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#last resort is still marrying my friend
thistransient · 1 year
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While I was away, my friend who's down south for a month left his fan for me to borrow. Previously I had either been using my aircon extremely sparingly (only when over 30C at night) or laying on the floor sweating like god intended. The fan's arrival, however, immediately initiated an unprecedented new era of slothfulness. Where at least before there was some motive to go in search of cooler climes (the library, the park at night), now it was entirely realistic to hang out at home, sprawled in front of the device forever. The evils of technology made manifest!
Or so I thought. After a week of this, my paranoia over the one (1) query from the immigration officer was festering, and I was growing cognisant of the fact that I didn't actually want to live out my days in a tiny dark apartment, prostrated at the altar of the artificial breeze. (Or it could also be that I simply don't want to spend the rest of my life in a subtropical heat wave...) I was getting real moody about my prospects, or lack thereof. Today I decided to finally have a go at actually finishing the preliminary test for an editing company whose listing I've come across a couple times (and usually quit halfway through because imagining reading this sort of stuff for 8 hours a day seemed guaranteed to drive me batty). But recently my bff who used to have me proofread his undergrad papers started using ChatGPT to write them, leaving me bereft of grammatical errors to savage (and also the dinners he would trade for my diligent efforts).
So I almost immediately received an email prompting me to move to the next stage, HOWEVER for visa sponsorship apparently the gov't requires either a graduate degree OR a bachelors + 2 years of relevant work experience. No teaching. If blogging and editing for friends counted as experience, I would be golden. Or rather, if I could establish a paper trail for said experience...
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yojeongin · 4 months
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it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l
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→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo
genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au
synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.
warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)
wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3
part 1 | part 2
© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!
disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.
an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol
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‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.
Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.
Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.
With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.
At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.
“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”
Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.
The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.
That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles. 
“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.
When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them. 
So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.
“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving. 
Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh. 
“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang. 
It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.
“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”
Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout. 
Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.
“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance. 
He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.  
You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.
The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.
You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.
Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself. 
So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.
Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him. 
“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work. 
Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.
He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone. 
“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed. 
Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”
How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.
“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”
Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?
Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”
He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.
Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.
Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.
But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.
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“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee. 
Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.
Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.
“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle. 
“Lunch with a special friend?” 
“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”
He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.
The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.
“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.
The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.
Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.
“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.
One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.
He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.
“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation. 
“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.
“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.
“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.
He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?” 
His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there. 
Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true. 
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The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd. 
Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes. 
‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’
A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right? 
Hmm…
Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.
“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.
Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.
Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?
Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.
Pick up cleaners,
fix the leak in the kitchen
pick up order from cafe 7 dream
find a new car inspection place
pick up Venetia’s leave cake
Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.
Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?
Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?
God, no… he was being irrational again!
The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on. 
Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake. 
Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.
‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’
‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’
Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.
‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’ 
The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his. 
He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife. 
The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’
It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.
His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.
Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section. 
His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.
Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.
Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.
In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.
The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.
He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.
At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.
His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.
Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.
“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”
It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.
“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”
Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.
He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.
The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.
You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.
Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters. 
That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up. 
He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.
That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.
That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.
You're not her...
Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.
“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. 
“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.” 
Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do. 
“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.
Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that. 
“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember. 
Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect. 
“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?” 
“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”
Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.
Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.
“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”
He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.
‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight. 
A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?
No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.
But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?
Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.
“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine. 
01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.
‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.
The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.
He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.
With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.
‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.
‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘
00:59 at the time you began writing that.
He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.
He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.
Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you. 
The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.
“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck. 
Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically. 
That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.
Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.
It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.
Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.
“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.
Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.
He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.
You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.
Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.
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On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.
With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.
“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.
“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.
“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.
The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you. 
His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.
Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.
Possession is the word he’s looking for.
His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them. 
Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.
The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.
Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.
“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.
You believe me like a God,
‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.
I’ll destroy you like I am.
Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.
His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.
“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.
His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.
Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.
Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.
“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again. 
Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.
His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.
“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.
In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.
“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.
“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.
“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.
To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.
He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.
The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.
To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.
Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.
Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.
“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.
“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.
With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.
But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.
After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.
Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.
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Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.
It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.
“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while. 
Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.
Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.
The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”  
‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.
How selfish.
“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.
Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.
“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.
‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.
How selfish.
A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.
“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.
You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.
Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.
The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab. 
Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity. 
You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.
“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?” 
“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.
“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.
‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained. 
Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.
He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.
Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.
Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.
Misery loves company.
His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.
You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.
“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?” 
“Please…”
You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you. 
After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.
Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with. 
By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.
He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.
Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.
All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.
Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…
‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’
Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.
Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.
Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.
He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.
For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either. 
Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.
Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.
‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’
Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.
Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.
He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.
03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.
The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.
“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”
I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.
Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.
This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?
 ‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’
The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.
Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!
But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.
No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat. 
He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace. 
He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.
Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.
It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.
He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.
A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.
“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”
Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…
It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.
You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.
You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.
“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way. 
“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.
You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.
“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes. 
You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.
“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich. 
Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.
“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”
Fuck.
“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so. 
He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability. 
“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.
“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.
‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.
Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.
Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?
Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.
“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator. 
Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.
Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.
Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.
“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.” 
Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.
“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”
A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.
Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.
He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.
It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.
Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.
He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.
Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.
Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.
No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.
The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.
“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat. 
Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.
“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.
I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.
Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.
His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.
Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.
So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.
The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.
Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.
Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain. 
Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.
Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?
He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.
Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”
It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).
Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.
“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.
“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…” 
Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”
Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.
You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.
In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.
History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.
You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.
Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.
Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.
He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face. 
And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.
The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.
He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.
The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.
Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.
“Why don’t you love me anymore?”
Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”
“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. 
You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.
His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?” 
Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.
He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo. 
There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.
If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.
“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.
He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?
I’ll betray you like a man.
Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.
“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”
Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.
The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood. 
“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.
“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.
Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.
“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.
Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.
“I think we should take a break.”
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses. 
“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”
You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be? 
“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”
Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.
“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.
You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.
“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.
“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault.  You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”
Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals. 
Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.
You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.
“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed. 
“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain. 
"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down. 
Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.
He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.
Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly. 
“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.
With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.
He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.
‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’
Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.
You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.
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if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !
join yojeongin’s taglist to be up to date with future work!
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taglist: @haknyeonsju @seungjiseyo @theskzvibe @wonyofanclub @lovingvoidgoatee
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lnlightning81 · 4 months
Text
Best Friends Part 2 [OP81]
Summary : After telling the grid that you're married there's now a rumour that you're hiding a child
Pairing/s: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader, Logan Sargeant x reader, F1 Grid x Reader
Warning/s : Pregnancy, kind of a weird one I just wanted to end this fic before my weekly exam panic
Word Count : 1.4k
Masterlist
Oscar Piastri Masterlist
Coming Soon
Taglist
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The next weekend in the paddock felt a little different. There was a rumour circulating on social media that one of the drivers had a hidden child. Obviously, you and Oscar had caught on to the rumour. 
The rumour was about yourself and Oscar, except it wasn’t true. Logan was yet to catch onto the rumour and was in a mood with yourself and Oscar, having not seen you yet to ask about it. 
It was just a media day today, and Oscar was going to the drivers press conference today so he could clear any rumours up on that side. As for Logan in between meetings, you went to find him. 
Finding him moping in his drivers room, you sat on the massage table looking at him 
“Came to tell me something?” He asked, causing you to laugh 
“Logan. You were at our house last week. Like not our hotel room, our actual house, where did you see the signs that we have kids?” You asked, causing him to frown in thought 
“I didn’t?” He questioned 
“Exactly. Someone obviously caught Oscar and I talking about you” You smiled moving to sit next to him 
“About me?” He asked, causing you to nod 
“We had been trying to get Lando to catch on that we were together for ages, so we resorted to calling you our son, jokingly at first until we realised that you basically are like our son. Even if you’re older than him you’re still our kid” You rubbed his back, and he nodded 
“Now I heard you’ve got interviews to do” You smiled, and he groaned
“Come on. I’ll come with you” Logan got up, walking out the room as you followed behind him. In the main garage, Emma explained the plan to Oscar as you spoke to Elias about Logan. 
Being new to training Logan, Elias was struggling to reach him and understand certain things about him that Benny used to understand because they’d been working together for the past seven years. Luckily for Elias, you were willing to help him understand Logan, and Mclaren didn’t really care knowing your strong bond with him. 
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That night, there was a grid dinner where all the drivers were meeting for dinner. Looking at the outfit you had on in the mirror deciding if that’s what you actually wanted to wear to the dinner. Oscar’s hands slid around your waist as you looked at him, though the mirror 
“What do you think? The dress just doesn’t feel like me, but I didn’t really pack anything else except Mclaren uniforms and work out clothes” You asked, resting your head against his shoulder 
“I think it looks beautiful, love. No matter what you wear, you look beautiful, especially when you’re not wearing anything” He smirked, pressing kisses to your neck. 
“I’ll just put my shoes on and finish up then. I won’t be long” You smiled, turning in his arms so you were now facing him. Snaking your arms around his neck to pull him down so you could kiss him. Pressing your lips against his as he smiled into the kiss. 
“What do you think about having kids?” Oscar asked as you fixed your jewellery 
“I mean I’ve always wanted kids, but you know that” You frowned, looking at him through the mirror 
“Yeah I know. I just wanted to ask your opinion. I’ve got a contract with Mclaren for at least another two years. We've been married for a little while now. Obviously not very long, but we’ve been friends since kids” He explained 
“You think it’s the perfect time to have a kid don’t you?” You asked, turning to face him. Oscar nodded, looking down at the ground 
“Look if you’re not ready just now or you don’t want to, then that’s okay. I was just thinking. The rumour really made me start thinking” He sighed, and you took a couple of steps to reach him. Taking his hands in your own hands with a smile. 
 “Osc. I think it’s a perfect time. Working nine months from now would be winter break. I think we should” You smiled, and he looked up at you
“Really? Do you want to do it just now?” He asked, and you nodded
“I very much do. I think we should start tonight” You hummed with a smirk as you kissed him 
“Don’t have to tell me twice” He hummed, picking you up as he walked out of the bathroom. Your giggles filled the room as he kissed your neck
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An hour later sat around the table with the rest of the grid and their plus ones or more depending if their kids were there in some circumstances. Oscar sat to your right with his hand resting on your thigh as Logan was sat on your left, sitting in a booth meant you were squashed in between them. 
Logan was playing with the fingers on your hand, obviously feeling very awkward with the conversation he was involved in. Looking at Oscar glancing at Logan's hand, Oscar caught on. Reaching behind your back and pressing a hand on to Logan’s shoulder 
Logan turned to you both with a smile before looking down at his hand 
“Oh shoot. Y/N I’m sorry” He dropped your hand, and you smiled softly 
“Logan, it's okay. We just wanted to make sure you’re okay” you whispered, and he nodded
“I’m okay. I guess I just needed my hands to do something” He shrugged, and you nodded, holding your hand out for him again. Oscar smiled, joining in a conversation with Lando and Charles. 
“So how come you didn’t announce the relationship?” Lando asked, and you turned your head to see him 
“Don’t need to announce it. We never hid it” Oscar shrugged 
“We announced it to Zak and Andrea, though. Oh, and had to fill out the HR forms” You shrugged 
“Next thing you’ll be announcing that you’re expecting” Charles joked, and you glanced at Oscar with a small laugh
“Don’t tell me you are!” Lando exclaimed, catching Logan’s attention 
“What? After our conversation this morning?” He asked, and you shook your head 
“Logs. You’d be the first to know if we were expecting after our conversation this morning. Actually, I have a feeling I wouldn’t even need to announce it to you” You joked 
“We’re not pregnant Logan” Oscar chuckled as you rested your head on Logan’s shoulder. Logan went back to his conversation with Lily and Alex while Oscar went back into his conversation with Lando and Charles as you spoke with Alexandra about her studies. 
When the food arrived, the long table settled into quiet conversations normally with the person next to them. However, there were a few conversations going down the table 
“I heard you got a puppy” You smiled, turning to Charles and Alexandra 
“Oh he’s just the cutest” Kika joined in with a smile 
“Yeah he is pretty cute” Charles nodded
“So, Y/N, Oscar, got anything or anyone you need to share with us?” Charles asked, and you shook your head along with Oscar. 
“The rumour of us having a child is very much a rumour kinda” You shrugged as Lando’s head whipped around 
“Kinda?” Lando questioned 
“We’ve got a grid kid” You shrugged 
“Two” Oscar corrected, and now Logan’s head whipped around 
“Two?” He questioned 
“You and Ollie” you shrugged 
“Ollie? Bearman?” Lando quizzed, causing you and Oscar to nod.
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When you got back to the hotel that night, everything was a little different. As normal, Logan had joined the two of you now sitting on the hotel room couch as he scrolled on his phone. 
Sat on the edge of the bed between Oscar’s legs, your head resting against his shoulder as you had a silent debate with him. 
“Hey Logs” You looked over at him as Oscar’s arms wrapped around your body. Logan looked over to you both with a smile 
“What’s up?” He asked, putting his phone down 
“So Oscar and I were talking before dinner, and we wanted you to know this beforehand obviously being our son” Oscar and Logan both laughed at the end of it. 
“This isn’t something you typically share with people, but we felt you should probably know” Oscar added, and Logan got up with a frown 
“What?” He questioned, sitting next to you both 
“We’re thinking about having a baby” You explained, and he nodded 
“That’s great. Can I be godfather and uncle?” He asked, and you laughed 
“I’m sure we can make that happen if we end up having a child” You smiled, giving him a hug 
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Tag List
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buckyispunk · 11 months
Text
Aloha
Aloha part one ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N), read part two here!
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masterlist
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: You arrive at a Hawaiian resort for your ex's wedding and a man named Bucky buys you a drink. You proceed to spend the next day with him, getting to know him and his friends.
A/N: New series! There will probably be five or so parts, with much more smut, angst, and fluff to come :) let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!
Warnings: unwanted touching (not by Bucky), dom!bucky, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, spitting, choking, orgasm delay/denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, Bucky's got a filthy mouth
Word Count: 11k
Fucking Brock. You sit on the couch staring at the little cardstock rectangle in disbelief.
Join us in celebrating Brock and Marisssa’s special day! surrounded by hibiscus flowers and a tropical design. The flowery invitation theme makes sense when you read that the wedding is in Hawaii. 
You hadn’t seen Brock in years. Three, to be exact. It had been in the soup aisle of the grocery store.
You had been reaching for a can of tomato paste to make spaghetti to eat alone in your little apartment. You looked a mess, having stopped at the store on your way home from a long day of work. You heard him call your name - his nonchalant, egotistical voice recognizable anywhere. 
“Oh my god, how’ve you been? It’s been too long!” He had said, as if he had made any attempts to reach out to you - or had any desire to - since you had broken up. 
“Oh,” you turned around to face him, “fine, you?”
“I’m doing great! Just here to buy some soup for my girlfriend, she’s been under the weather lately.”
Not even a minute into conversation and he’d mentiioned his new girlfriend. You had just broken up two months before. You tried your best to keep the look of shock and sadness from your face. How had he moved on so quick? Did your almost four year relationship meant so little to him? 
You managed to give a small noncommittal smile and nod. He wasn’t paying enough attention to you to notice anyway, grabbing a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup and turning back the way he came. 
“We should get together and catch up sometime!” he had shouted over his shoulder as he walked away.
That was the last time you had seen him. It wasn’t like the two of you were on bad terms or anything. The break up had been civil - civil as a breakup can be, anyway. You and Brock had begun dating in your freshman year of college. One day, in the middle of you and Brock’s senior year, he sat you down and said he needed to talk to you. He said that you were great and he’d always have a special place in his heart for you, but he just couldn’t picture himself with you for the rest of his life - so there’s no point in wasting anymore time, as he had put it. To be honest, you didn’t disagree.
You had been unhappy towards the end of the relationship. You could tell that Brock was distancing himself and the two of you got in little fights almost every day. You knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it had still left a huge hole in your heart. Brock was a big part of your life every day for four years, then all of a sudden he was just gone. A big piece of you was missing and you had to rebuild it yourself. Turns out Brock rebuilt that piece with another girl. If he ever had a piece that needed rebuilding in the first place, that is. 
You really had wanted to stay friends with him after the breakup, or at least remain civil with him. He had never reached out after that day in the grocery store and you had no desire to reach out to him - you had healed yourself and decided you were better off without him. 
You sit on the couch running your fingers over the rough material, rereading the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. You really don’t care that Brock is getting married, it’s not like you want him back or anything. But, at the same time, you weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to go watch him and his fiancee celebrate their special day. 
A vacation did sound nice, though. You’d always wanted to go to Hawaii. Plus, you figured some of you and Brock’s friends from college would be in attendance. The two of you had been in the same friend group when he asked you out. You lost touch with the friend group after the break up. You would see some of them in passing or in classes and share small talk, but you had stopped getting invitations to hang out with them. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, though, and it would be nice to see them again. 
You mull it over for a little while before deciding that it would be a good move on your part to go, show Brock that you were still on good terms with him and that him getting married doesn’t bother you. You could take a break from work and get some much-needed sun and relaxation. You RSVP and check no, you will not be bringing a plus one.  
The months leading up to the wedding follow the same, monotonous routine. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Occasionally your coworkers would drag you out to the bar after work and you would go - desperate to feel some sort of belonging. Despite your efforts over the years, you had never gotten close with any of the girls at work. You got along with them okay, but you wouldn’t exactly call them your friends. Acquaintances was a more fitting term.
You do, however, have one best friend. The only issue is that she lives almost a thousand miles away. You had moved to New York for school and she had stayed back home in Illinois. You stay in contact with her and your family. Most days, talking to them makes you more homesick than anything else. You’d considered moving back more than once, but had ultimately decided against it each time - you’re scared to look like a failure. You don’t want to come running back home at the first signs of struggle. You want to prove to everyone back home that you can make it in the big city by yourself. 
As the days go by, you find yourself looking forward to the special day. Not because of the wedding, but because you’re ready to escape the numb hell that your life has become. The wedding is on a Friday. You’re flying in on Monday and leaving Sunday morning. Six nights at the tropical resort Brock and Marissa have picked. 
It’s the Sunday night before you leave. Your bags are packed and waiting by the door. Sleep comes easy, knowing that by this time tomorrow you’ll be drinking cocktailas at a pool-side bar, free from work stress and city traffic. Away from the city where you feel lonely among millions of people.
Usually when the ear-piercing, dread instilling sound of your alarm rings, you hit the snooze button and pull the covers tighter in attempt to hang on to your last moments of comfort and peace - or as close as you can get to that, these days. Today, however, is different. When you hear the all-too familiar noise coming from your phone, it leaves you with a feeling of excitement rather than depression. 
You sit up, smile on your face, and get ready for the day. After showering and putting on your comfiest plane clothes, you grab your bags and head outside. You hail a taxi and can’t even bring yourself to be upset when he doesn’t offer to help you with your luggage. You smile the whole way to the airport.
I repeat, flight DL4567 is delayed by two hours. Boarding will begin at 12:10.
The universe has found a way to put you in a bad mood again. You’re certain whatever higher power there is had sent this sudden thunderstorm just for you. You look at your phone to check the time - 9:45. You had been sitting here for an hour already. The hard chair is starting to get uncomfortable, so you decide to get your second cup of coffee for the morning. You stand and grab your luggage, making your way to the end of the Starbucks line. You order your go-to drink and some breakfast.
Once you get your coffee and food you find a little table to sit at and pull out your book. You find yourself enthralled in your book and the time flies. A voice over the loudspeaker breaks you out of your trance. 
Flight DL4567 now boarding. 
You snap your book shut and clean up your table. You grab your bags and head back to your gate. After waiting in line for a little while, you finally take your seat on the plane. You put in your earbuds and watch the grey clouds outside - thankful you got a window seat. By the time the plane starts moving, you’re smiling again and counting down the time until your arrival. 
You spend the first five hours of your flight reading and watching TV - you’re pleasantly surprised to see that they have your favorite show. Sometime after they serve lunch, you fall asleep. When you wake up, there’s only two hours left until arrival. 
You watch the fluffy clouds outside your window and find that time passes quickly when you think about all the things you want to do in Hawaii. You also find that the time passes impossibly slow when you let your mind drift to New York and all your responsibilities. How is it that you haven’t even landed in Hawaii yet and you’re already dreading returning back home?
You see the beaches and the luscious green that fill the ground beneath you. You take in all the sights as best you can as you get closer and closer to the ground, preparing for landing. Your ears hurt slightly from the pressure change, but you’ve got other things on your mind.
After waiting some more to get your luggage, you finally manage to get on a shuttle and you’re on your way to the resort. You watch the mountains in the distance and the palm trees on the drive. You’re listening to your playlist through your earbuds and this is the happiest you’ve felt in a while. You could get used to this, you think. 
Your jaw drops when you pull up to the hotel. The huge building is right on the beach. Sure, that’s what it had said online, but the real thing it’s even more staggering in person than it had been in the pictures. The sun beats down on you as soon as you step out of the shuttle, but there’s a nice breeze that makes it enjoyable. A worker hands you your bags from the back of the bus and you thank him. You roll them inside the resort, eyes widening even more when you see the inside of the place. You can’t wait to get your bags in your room and explore. 
The receptionist is nice as can be and tells you to enjoy your stay as she hands you your key cards - like you’ll be needing more than one. You wheel your luggage into the elevator and press the number five. You’re astonished by the view when you step into your room. Your balcony faces the beach and you can see mountains in the distance. The evening sun is still shining bright and there’s not a cloud in the sky. 
It’s just after seven o’clock by the time you’re done changing. You head down to the main floor and set off to explore. There’s a spa, an indoor and outdoor bar, a pool, a hot tub, a gym, and a restaurant. You decide to hit the outdoor bar and enjoy the last of the daylight. 
You slide into a barstool. The warmth of the sun and the refreshing sea-side breeze, along with a couple cocktails, quickly put you into a relaxed headspace. You’d been looking forward to this for so long and it’s definitely all you’d imagined it would be. 
The resort is pretty full, but not to the point where it gets on your nerves. The bar is occupied by a group of girls who look a little younger than you and some married couples.
You’re just finishing your second drink when something catches your attention - a loud, boisterous laugh coming from the other end of the bar. You lean forward to see a group of guys you hadn’t noticed before. The laugh comes from a man with chocolatey, smooth skin. He’s sitting with a gigantic blond man who is currently looking down at the bartop and shaking his head, a half smile on his face. The last man, though, is what makes you do a double take. 
He’s got dark, fluffy hair. Though his stubble tries to hide it, you notice his sharp jawline. His shoulders are broad and his biceps stretch the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s smiling, pearly white teeth on display. You find that you’re still watching him as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a swig. 
You’re only snapped out of your trance when he looks in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes, but you aren’t quick enough. He catches your gaze for the briefest of seconds. You might be imagining things, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile before he looks back to his friends - still laughing and yelling about something.
The sun has finally set and you decide on having one more of the fun, tropical drinks before heading up to your room. 
You prepare to flag down the bartender, surprised when you find him already stopping in front of you, one of the cocktails you’d been drinking in hand. 
“Courtesy of the gentleman at the other end of the bar.”
You quickly thank the bartender and look back to the other end of the bar where the group of guys had been sitting. They’re the only men sitting at that end of the bar.
The brunette is already looking at you. He gives you a million dollar smile and shoots you a wink before he turns, following his friends back into the hotel.
You sit in shock for a solid minute, replaying the wink over and over in your mind. Sure you’ve got a solid buzz and you haven’t been laid in a long time, but even if that wasn’t the case, you’re sure it would’ve been just as sexy. You’re only slightly ashamed of the small amount of wetness you feel in your panties.
You down the free drink and head back into the hotel. On your way to the elevator, you notice the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the last 30 or so minutes standing at the reception desk. His hair is wet and his clothes are soaking through. 
You quickly make your way to the elevator and repeatedly press the up arrow. You’re not sure where the sudden embarrassment is coming from, but your cheeks are red and you don’t want him to see you right now. 
Unfortunately for you, you hear footsteps behind you and turn to find the same piercing blue eyes you had met across the bar staring back at you. 
“Friends stole all the towels out of my room,” he tells you, holding up a stack of fresh ones.
Well that explains why he was at the reception desk, also why he’s soaking wet. 
“Oh,” you manage a small chuckle as you look down at your feet. 
You can’t help but feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you so intently, like you’re the only thing on his mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen and he’s talking to you of all people. 
You force yourself to meet his eyes again, “Thank you, um, for the drink earlier,” you manage in a somewhat steady voice. 
 “Course, doll,” another smile. 
The elevator doors finally open and he extends his arm, “After you.”
He follows you into the elevator and presses the number five. 
“What floor are you on?” he turns, waiting for your response.
“Same as you, apparently,” you smile up at him. 
You weren’t close enough to tell before, but he’s tall. At least six feet. 
“I’m Bucky, by the way. Sorry ‘bout leaving before I could introduce myself earlier, but my friends were being a pain in the ass - pardon my language.”
You tell him your own name and he holds out his hand. You put your hand in his and expect him to shake it, but what he does next surprises you.
He gently raises your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he rolls your name off his tongue, still holding your hand.
You try your best not to make it obvious that you’re swooning over this man. Heat returns to your core at the feeling of his rough hand engulfing yours. 
The elevator bell dings, letting you know you’ve reached your floor. Bucky carefully drops your hand as the doors open. The two of you step out of the elevator and he stops.
“I’ll be seeing you around,” he says, holding eye contact with you.
“I hope so,” your buzz encourages you. 
You smile at each other and when he turns to head to his room, you do the same. 
“Goodnight, doll,” he shouts over his shoulder before disappearing into his room.
You can’t keep the smile off of your face the rest of the night. You’re in fucking Hawaii. A man straight out of your fantasies had bought you a drink, and he plans on seeing you around. You know it’s too soon to be thinking this, but maybe you’ll find a more unconventional way to relieve stress this week. 
After you wake up and get dressed for the day, you head down to get breakfast from the buffet. You load your plate and find a table. You’re in the middle of chewing a bite of waffle when you see Brock. Him and a woman, you assume it’s Marissa, are grabbing plates and getting into the breakfast line. 
Brock doesn’t notice you until after him and the woman have gotten their own food. You watch him as he scans the room for a table, his eyes eventually landing on you. 
He calls out your name and leans down to tell the woman something. 
“So glad you’re here! Are these seats taken?” he asks, not waiting for a response as he sits down, leaving the woman to follow. 
“Go ahead,” you say. You’re somewhat glad to have some company, even if it’s a little awkward.
“This is my fiancée, Marissa.”
“So nice to meet you,” she offers her hand and you shake it. 
Breakfast is filled with awkward conversation. You and Brock catch up a little bit, telling each other what you’re up to these days. After a few minutes, Brock pulls out his phone and doesn’t put it away for the rest of the meal. You talk to Marissa about the wedding planning and do your best to seem interested as she talks about flower arrangements for ten minutes. 
Eventually, conversation lulls and you take the opportunity to get up. 
“So nice catching up with you, Brock. And nice to meet you Marissa!” you say, heading to your room.
You decide on heading to the pool today and change into your bikini. It’s a black set that shows off your body without being too skimpy. You throw some clothes over it and grab your book before stepping out of your room. 
Before you reach the elevator, you hear your name being called. You turn and see Bucky standing by his door.
“Where are you headed to?” 
“I’m gonna go lay by the pool for a bit, wanna join me?” you answer, not sure where your courage is coming from.
Bucky grins as he responds, “Nothing else I’d rather do.”
You feel your face heat up.
“Lemme put some trunks on and I’ll meet you down there?”
“Sounds great, Bucky,” you nod at him before slipping into the elevator.
Once at the pool, you grab two towels. By some miracle, you manage to find two empty lounge chairs together. You set your things down and lay the towels over the chairs. You strip out of your clothes, leaving you clad in only the bikini, and apply sunscreen before laying down. You put your earbuds in and close your eyes and bask in the sun. 
Maybe it's the sunshine, maybe it’s the fresh ocean air, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but you’re feeling the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You notice that instead of your usual RBF, you've been smiling almost constantly since your arrival.
When you open your eyes, you see Bucky standing a few feet away from you, steel blue eyes raking up and down your body. 
“Oh, Bucky,” you pause your music, blush returning to your cheeks, “how long have you been standing there?”
“Shit,” he says your name, realizing he’d been caught staring, “I swear I just got here like ten seconds ago. I’m so sorry. Feel free to revoke my invitation because I was being a creep,” he grimaces, expecting you to be mad at him.
The way he looked at you was different than the way most men would look at you in a bikini, though. It wasn’t gross or pervy. It looked like he was genuinely just appreciating your body, rather than plotting how to get you into his bed. And he didn't make any disgusting comments or cat call you like other guys have in the past. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn’t get a boost of confidence from the way he looked at you.  
“Hmm,” you put your finger on your chin, pretending to mull it over, “I’ll let you sit down, but only if you buy me another drink first.”
That familiar grin spreads across his face again. 
“You got yourself a deal. You want another one of those gross cocktails you were drinking last night?”
“Um, excuse you, Mr. I’m too manly to drink cocktails, but I’ll have you know those were delicious.”
He chuckles and promises to be back shortly before walking toward the bar. 
You play your music and wait for him to return. After a couple minutes, he returns holding a colorful, fruit filled cocktail and a beer bottle.
Bucky takes his seat next to you, beer bottle in hand. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lays back in his chair. 
“So, not to be rude, but is Bucky your real name?”
“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, if you must know. All my friends and family call me Bucky.” 
You nod and take a sip of your drink. 
“Man, it’s hot,” Bucky takes a drink from his bottle before setting it down and reaching down to grab the bottom of his shirt. You find it’s your turn to stare as he pulls it over his head, exposing tan skin and rippling muscle. Bucky gives you a cocky smirk when he notices you staring with your drink frozen midair, on its way to your mouth. 
You quickly avert your eyes and feel the familiar dusting of pink return to your cheeks. 
“Like what you see, doll?”
You simply shake your head at his teasing and smile, flustered as can be.
“So what do you do for work, Bucky?”
“Well I was in the army until a couple years ago. Now I’m a mechanic, I got my own shop with my buddies.” 
You make a mental note to thank the army for mandating PT as you watch a drop of sweat roll down Bucky’s washboard abs.  
“Is that who you’re here with?”
“Yeah. Me and Steve have known each other since we were little, actually. We met Sam when we joined up and after we all got out we opened up shop together,” a reminiscent smile plays upon his lips. “Those two knuckleheads are basically family. We decided to take a trip to celebrate the shop’s one year anniversary.”
“Speaking of family, do you have any?”
“My, uh,” his brows furrow, “my dad died when I was little, but I have a mom and a sister who’s a little younger than me. About your age, probably.” 
His expression returns to normal in a split second, “Enough about me. Do you have family?”
“Yeah, but I moved away for college and never went back home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Ohio. I live in New York now.”
Bucky seems almost excited at this bit of information. 
“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow. “I live in Brooklyn.”
“Me too,” you share a smile.
Needing a break from the sweltering sun, you stand and grab your drink. 
“I'm getting in the pool, care to join?”
Bucky wordlessly stands and follows you to the pool, smiling. You walk down the steps, drink in hand. Bucky, however, stops at the edge of the pool and watches you. 
“You coming in or what?”
“In a minute, doll.”
Surprisingly, the pool isn’t that crowded. It’s huge, so the people that are in the pool are able to spread out and stay out of each other’s way. 
It’s only once you’re standing in the pool, water up to your bikini top, that Bucky decides to enter. 
Via cannonball. 
You register what he’s about to do as he jumps in the air and wraps his hands around his knees and you yell at him, Barnes don’t you dare! but it’s too late. Next thing you know, you’re drenched. Your hair and face are soaked and there’s pool water in your drink.
Bucky emerges from under the water, smirk dancing across his lips. His expression falters for a second when he notices your angry expression, but you can’t keep the smile from your face when he shakes his hair out like a wet dog. 
“You ruined my drink.”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands and setting it on the edge of the pool. 
He walks closer and closer to you until you’re just inches apart. He tentatively moves his hands under the water until they’re resting on your bare hips. His grip is soft, barely there. He’s giving you a chance to reject his touch, but all you do is gently move into his hands. 
His grip becomes more firm and his eyes light up with a glint of mischief. Before you know what hit you, you’re being lifted out of the water, Bucky’s muscles flexing as he raises you up. Before you have a chance to stop him - as if you’d stand any chance against his nearly super human physique - he launches you back into the water. 
When you emerge from the water, you see Bucky nearly doubled over laughing at the angry expression on your face. You really do try your best to be mad at him, but his shimmering smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes makes it hard. 
“What. The. Hell,” you make your way back to him and move to smack his chest. Bucky has quick reflexes, though, and you find that your hand is trapped between one of his own and his muscular pec. 
“That was revenge for the way you’ve been staring at me all morning when I’m unable to do anything about it.”
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his flirty words in an effort to keep up your mad facade.
“What if I drowned Bucky?” you deadpan.
“Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says matter-of-factly. 
“Well, you’re still a jerk.”
“A jerk who’s talking to the prettiest girl in this resort,” he counters with a shit-eating grin.
Bucky drops his hand and, instead of moving yours away, you wrap both your arms around the back of his neck. 
“Not for much longer if you pull another stunt like that, Barnes.”
“Sorry, doll,” the amused grin he’s still sporting makes you doubt his apology.
His hands return to your hips and he pulls you closer. He’s a fair bit taller than you and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. The sun is reflected in his ocean blue eyes and water drips down his face, getting caught in the scruff spanning his jaw. 
Bucky leans down and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin between two long fingers. He softly directs you toward his own face. You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down to his pink, pillowy lips. You close the rest of the distance on your own. 
Bucky is quick to kiss you back after your lips meet his. He caresses your lips with his own and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, pressing you against him harder. He swipes his tongue across your lips and you part them for him. You let out a small moan into his mouth and he gently takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
He pulls away, letting your lip free. You feel a throb in between your legs when he gives your neck a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his own person. 
“Fuck, doll. Don’t make me throw you into the water again.” He waits until he thinks you’re not looking before reaching down to adjust his swim trunks.
“You started it,” you reply as you make your way to the steps and climb out of the pool. “I need another drink,” you make sure to sway your hips as you walk back toward the bar, not needing to look back to know he’s watching. 
You lean against the bar and are waiting to be helped when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. You turn around and expect to see Bucky, only to be met with the sight of a man you’ve never seen before.
“Can I help you?” you remove the man’s hand from you.
“Nice bikini, baby. Lemme buy you a drink,” the slur in his words and his unsteady stance letting you know that he’s certainly not sober.
“No, thanks,” you turn back to the bar, making it clear you’re not interested. 
The man either doesn’t get the hint or decides to keep trying anyway, because you feel both his hands land on your hips this time. He steps closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back.
Just as you’re preparing to throw an elbow into the man’s ribs, you feel his hands being ripped off of you. You turn around to see the man falling to the ground, Bucky standing over him. 
“Get up,” Bucky demands, looking down.
The man, surprisingly, manages to get back on his feet and gives Bucky a death glare. Before he has a chance to give Bucky a piece of his mind, as you’re sure he was about to, Bucky grabs him by the collar of his shirt and leans into the man’s ear. He says something too quiet for you to hear and emphasizes it by using his grip on the man’s shirt to shake him. A few people around you are starting to stare.
The man’s face goes slack and he nods in response to whatever Bucky had said. Bucky shoves the man away and he nearly falls to the ground again. Bucky stares him down as he turns and walks away. Once he’s sure the man isn’t coming back, he returns his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone’s attention seems to be back to whatever they were doing before the commotion.
“You okay, doll? I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” you give him a half smile to let him know you’re okay, just sick of men thinking they have a right to touch you. “I’m okay.”
“You still want another drink? Told you I’d buy it,” he goes to flag down the bartender. 
You gently rest your hand on his bicep and he looks at you “Thank you, Buck,” you hope your genuine expression conveys that you’re not just thanking him for the drink.
He gives you a curt nod, “Don’t mention it. Just trying to be a gentleman.”
A few minutes later, armed with another round of drinks, you and Bucky are making your way back to the lounge chairs.
“So where are your friends today?” you inquire.
“Finally got those punks outta my hair for a little while. They went to hike up some mountain. Or maybe it was a volcano, I really don’t know.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?”
“I-uh,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “let’s just say heights aren’t really my thing,” an adorable redness spreads across his face.
You nod, deciding to spare him any further embarrassment from teasing. The two of you sit down on the sides of your chairs, facing each other. 
“So why are you here?”
You figured the question would arise eventually, but you had been dreading telling him the reason. It just sounds embarrassing to admit that you’re attending your ex’s wedding. 
“I’m actually here for a wedding.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s getting married? Not you, I hope,” Bucky chuckles at his own joke but stops when you don’t so much as crack a smile. His face drops and he stares at you for a second before you notice his expression.
“No. God- no. I’m not engaged, Bucky. Very much single. It’s my ex’s wedding.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, wow,” you can tell he’s unsure how to respond.
“I’ve hardly talked to him since the breakup a few years ago. We’re on good terms, though. Actually ate breakfast with him and his fiancee this morning.”
“Well that’s good, I guess. That you’re on good terms, I mean. Why did you choose to come? Sorry if I’m being nosy, you dont have to answer.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a little weird, I get it. For the most part, it was a good excuse to take a vacation and hopefully see some old friends. It’s not like I still have feelings for Brock or anything, so I really couldn’t care less that he’s getting married. His fiancee seems nice enough. And things went okay this morning, so I’m hopeful that things won’t be too awkward at the wedding. Plus there’ll be an open bar at the reception,” you crack a smile.
Bucky listens and nods along. “Well I hope everything goes okay. I’m certainly not complaining that you’re here,” he gives you a soft smile.
Sunbathing next to Bucky and sharing laughter-filled conversation leaves you with such a serene feeling that you physically feel lighter and your mind feels clearer. You decide in that moment that this vacation was definitely worth it, you can feel your mental health improving by the hour.
At one point, you doze off and are woken to Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, radiant smile on his face. 
“Probably shouldn’t stay out here too long or you’ll burn to a crisp.”
You sit up and nod, “Good point.”
You and Bucky get dressed and gather your things before depositing your towels in the proper bin and heading inside the hotel. Once you and Bucky reach your floor, you stand and shuffle your feet, unsure of what to do next. Bucky sets a hand on your arm and you look up at him. 
“My friends and I are going out to dinner tonight and, I’m sorry if this seems weird, but would you want to come with us? You don’t have to say yes, just thought I’d throw it out there,” he has a nervous look on his face and he chews on his lip while he waits for an answer.
You couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that he still wants to spend more time with you, even though you’d been together a large chunk of the day already. You want to say yes, both because you have no other plans and because you’d love to spend more time with the man in front of you, but you don’t want to seem overly eager. 
“Yeah, I’d like that. Only if you’re sure your friends won’t mind, that is.”
Bucky looks almost relieved and gives you a boyish grin. “Nah, Steve and Sam will be fine. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”
“Okay, Buck, looking forward to it.”
“Can’t wait, doll. I’ll meet you here at seven.”
Bucky seems to hesitate for a moment, but then leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, which you happily return. He pulls back and heads off to his room.
“See you tonight, sweetheart.”
You decide you have a bit of time before you need to start getting ready for dinner, so you grab your book and sit out on the balcony. You find that you have a hard time focusing on the words in front of you, though. The ocean waves and palm trees blowing in the breeze paired with the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from below makes for a pleasant distraction. Before you know it, it’s 6:45 and you scramble to get back inside and start getting dressed. 
It isn’t until you’re searching through your clothes that you realize you don’t know where you’re going for dinner or how to dress. You only packed three dresses, a sundress, the dress you’re wearing to the wedding, and the one you decide on for tonight.
The black dress comes down to your knees with a slit up the thigh. It’s tight and shows off your curves. The back is open, with straps crossing in the center of your shoulder blades. The cut in the front is low enough that it shows off your cleavage while maintaining a classy enough appearance. 
You decide to dress it up with heels - also black. They’re only a couple inches tall, so you can still walk in them somewhat comfortably. You’re thankful that you packed a decent selection of jewelry and throw on some silver earrings and a necklace.
You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help but smile - damn you look good. You grab your clutch and open your door. You nearly walk into Bucky as you step into the hallway. 
Bucky is wearing tight grey dress pants with a snug-fitting short sleeve black button up. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a peek of the toned chest hiding beneath. He’s paired the outfit with a black belt and matching shoes. He speaks before you have a chance to compliment him.
“Doll,” he looks you up and down, eyes wide, “wow. You look gorgeous.”
You feel yourself flush as you thank him. 
“You look really good too, Buck. Where’s Steve and Sam?”
“I told them to wait downstairs for us. Wanted to prepare you for them. They can be a bit,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “much, sometimes. I told them to be on their best behavior tonight. They just have a way of embarrassing people, Sam especially. I’m sure they’ll be teasing me nonstop, so just ignore anything they say.”
You chuckle lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
You and Bucky step into the elevator and take turns sneaking glaces at each other. Just before you reach the ground floor, Bucky leans over you, effectively trapping you between him and the elevator wall. Even in your heels, he has to lean down to be eye level with you. “I mean it, doll, you look stunning,” his eyes search yours, “Can I kiss you?”
You respond by closing the distance between the two of you. He reaches up and places a hand on the back of your head, holding you to him. The feel of his soft lips on yours makes you forget where you are. All too soon, the elevator door is opening and before you and Bucky have a chance to break away from each other, you hear a whistle.
“Damn, Barnes! Moving quick!” 
Bucky quickly steps away from you but stays in front of you, shielding you while you take a second to collect yourself. 
“Shut it, Sam,” Bucky says sternly. You don’t miss the red that creeps up the back of his neck. Nor do you miss how his tight pants do wonders for his ass.
After a second you step out from behind Bucky and extend a hand to the man, deciding to play it off.
“So you must be Sam,” you introduce yourself as he shakes your hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Steve responds when you shake his hand.
Steve and Sam lead the way out of the resort and you trail behind with Bucky. 
“We heard about this place some locals recommended that’s supposed to be really good. We’re gonna take a taxi there. That okay with you?”
“Sounds great,” you smile up at him.
The four of you wait in front of the resort for the taxi. 
“So,” Steve says your name, “you really spent all day with Bucky and he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet?”
“Whoa whoa whoa, I never said that. He’s lucky I’m even here right not after he threw me into the pool earlier. Although he did almost get into a fist fight defending me, so I guess it cancels out.”
Sam gives Bucky a grin, “Attaboy.”
“When me and Buck were younger, I used to get myself into all kinds of trouble and Bucky would have to end up kicking some dude’s ass for me almost daily,” Steve reminisces.
Bucky huffs and nods his head, “Punk dragged me into all kinds of trouble. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this big. Needed to help him out or he woulda ended up bleeding out in an alley somewhere in Brooklyn.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up, but you have trouble picturing the man in front of you as anything other than he is now - huge and intimidating. 
After a couple minutes of getting to know Steve and Sam a little bit, the taxi arrives. It’s a five seater car, Steve sits in the front with the driver and you, Bucky, and Sam climb into the back. Bucky sits in between you and Sam. The car is plenty roomy enough, but Bucky makes sure to sit close enough that his thigh is pressed up against yours. The drive is short and Steve pays the driver when you arrive. Everyone gets out of the car. Bucky offers you his elbow and you link your arm in his. He leads the four of you into the building.
“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”
The hostess leads you out back to the outdoor seating and your jaw drops. The palm tree surrounded patio is right on the beach and you have a perfect view of the sun setting on the water. Fairy lights and tiki torches give the place a soft glow. A live band plays soft Hawaiian music on a stage. 
Once you reach your table, the hostess sets down menus and silverware, before heading back inside. Bucky unlinks his arm from yours and he pulls out a chair for you. Before you sit, you turn to him.
“Bucky, this place is beautiful.”
“Glad you like it, darling.”
You sit and Bucky takes the seat next to you. By the time you snap out of your awestruck trance, Sam and Steve are both holding menus and arguing about something. You go to pick up a menu and notice Bucky’s eyes trained on you. He gives you a smile before looking down at his own menu. 
The waitress comes to take drink orders and the three men all order whiskey. You decide to get something other than a fruity cocktail.
“I’ll have the same,” you say when the server looks to you. 
You notice the way all three of their eyebrows jump at your choice. The waitress leaves and Bucky gently sets a hand just above your knee. He turns to look at you, as if asking for permission and you give him a reassuring smile. Conversation flows and when the waitress returns with the drinks, Sam and Steve immediately take a sip of theirs. Bucky’s eyes fall on you as you raise the glass to your lips. You keep eye contact with him as you take a drink, holding a straight face. You see of flash of something dark flash in his eyes and he moves his hand higher up your thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. 
You continue to read the menu and decide on seafood - you have to, you’re in Hawaii - and so does everyone else at the table. It is the restaurant’s specialty, after all. By the time the waitress comes to take your order, the four of you are all getting along great.
“So you guys all work on cars, huh?” 
“And bikes,” Sam nods at you.
“Do you guys all have motorcycles?” you glance around the table.
“Yeah, we do,” Bucky confirms.
You can easily picture him leather-clad, thick thighs straddling a Harley and his hand resting on the throttle. The thought makes you clench your thighs together and, based on the way Bucky’s thumb begins to rub circles into your thigh and he smirks at you, you assume he notices. 
“So what do you have planned for the rest of the week?” Steve questions you, oblivious to Bucky’s hand on you underneath the table.
“Well I’m going snorkeling tomorrow. I also want to hit the beach, maybe take a surf lesson. Horseback riding and hiking sounds fun too, though. What all have you guys done?”
“Well,” Sam starts, “we just got in yesterday, so we haven’t really done much yet.”
“Oh, so you guys got here the same day I did, then. When are you guys leaving?”
“Saturday, how about you?” Bucky answers you. 
“Sunday morning.”
“I’m sure you’ll be sick of Bucky by then,” Sam chortles.
Thinking about spending the rest of the week with Bucky puts a smile on your face and you hope he wants to spend more time with you, too. Eventually, the food comes and you all dig in. It’s so delicious that you’re not even mad about how expensive it was. Bucky lets out a groan of delight as he takes his first bite. 
“This is so good, doll. You want to try?” 
You nod and he raises his fork to your lips. He feeds you a bite of his food and you agree, it is delicious. You pull your attention away from Bucky just in time to see Sam whispering something into Steve’s ear, to which Steve chortles and nods.
“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky returns his attention to his friends.
“Nothing, man,” Steve dismisses him.
Bucky shoots them a warning look but drops it. 
The rest of the meal is filled with stories from their time in the army and Steve informs you that Bucky was a sergeant. You’re thankful that they don’t pressure you with too many questions about your boring life back in the city. The conversation flows easy and after a couple more rounds of drinks, the four of you are laughing so hard that you’re drawing attention from other tables. When everyone finishes eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and find your waitress. You give her your credit card, insisting that she charges the bill to your card.
You’d been having a great time with Bucky and his friends so far and you wanted to thank them for inviting you to have dinner with them. They had been so welcoming to you and have made your trip less lonely, even if only for one night. You return to the table.
When the waitress comes back to your table, she returns your credit card to you and the three men share a confused look.
Bucky cocks his head at you, “Did you pay for yourself already, doll? I was going to.”
“She actually covered the whole table,” the server informs them before leaving.
“Wait, what? You paid for us all?” Steve asks in disbelief.
Sam looks to you, waiting for an answer. Bucky just looks at you, brows furrowed. 
“Yeah. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so inviting. I enjoyed hanging out with you all tonight,” you look down at the table, feeling almost as if you’d done something wrong. 
Sam says your name, “That was really unnecessary, but thank you. We enjoyed your company. We get sick of each other, it was nice to have you join us. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” Steve concurs, “I’m glad you could come. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, sincerely.”
“It’s not a big deal, guys. It was no problem.”
You turn to look at Bucky. He’s still in the same position - eyes trained on you and brows furrowed. You worry you’ve done something wrong and gently reach between the two of you and take his hand in yours. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and finally speaks. 
“Thank you,” you can tell there’s more he wants to say, though. Your group stands and heads to the front to wait for another taxi. After you step out the front doors, Bucky softly grabs your arm, holding you back. Steve and Sam continue walking. 
“Thank you for paying, I really appreciate the gesture. But I invited you tonight because I enjoy spending time with you and I wanted you to meet my friends. You shouldn’t have had to pay for your own dinner tonight, let alone everyone else’s. I do appreciate it, though, and I know Steve and Sam did too,” he gives you a sincere look and you sheepishly look down at the ground. He lifts his hand to cup your face and tilts it up to him, forcing you to make eye contact. “But all that being said, don’t you dare try and pull that again,” he says in a more authoritative tone.
You feel a wetness forming in your panties at the soft yet demanding tone he uses. You’re too shocked at the sudden dominance that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod up at him. 
“Good girl,” he praises in a low voice.
“You guys coming or what?” you hear Sam’s voice call.
You hadn’t even realized that taxi had arrived. Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to your lips before leading you to the car with a hand on the small of your back. Bucky sits inbetween you and Sam again and rests a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to slipping underneath the hem of your dress that had ridden halfway up your thighs. All you can focus on the whole car ride back to the resort is the feel of Bucky’s calloused hands on your leg and the pulsing at the apex of your thighs.
After what feels like hours, the cars pulls to a stop in front of the resort and you step out of car, followed by Bucky, who places his hand back on you immediately after he gets out. Steve and Sam make conversation, Bucky occasionally making a noncommittal grunt in response. After the elevator brings all of you to the fifth floor, Steve and Sam say goodnight and thank you again for dinner. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hand tightens around your hip when they mention you paying for dinner. You say goodnight to them and they look at Bucky, probably expecting him to say goodnight and follow them back to their rooms. 
You’re not quite sure what you expect Bucky to do, but all you know is that the tension is thicker than Bucky’s biceps that are currently straining against his shirt sleeves.
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he tells his friends without taking his eyes off you.
“Okayyy,” Steve drags out the word as him and Sam turn and walk away, muttering and laughing to themselves.
Once you and Bucky are alone in the hall, he gently backs you up against the wall. He leaves one hand on your hips and tangles the other in your hair. He pulls you into a kiss that you fervently reciprocate. You’re sure that your panties are soaked at this point. You clench your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Bucky spreads your legs with his knee and slots his thigh against your center, forcing your dress to rise up. You moan into his mouth at the relief and buck your hips into him, your drenched underwear are dragging across his pants and you’re sure they’ll leave a dark spot from your arousal. 
Bucky pulls away from the kiss, but pushes his thigh harder against you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” his voice is filled with lust, “Rutting up against my thigh in the middle of the hallway, skirt up so anyone can see how soaked your panties are for me.”
You whimper into Bucky’s ear. It turns you on to hear such filthy things coming from his usually polite mouth.
“Please, Bucky,” you beg, desparate for release.
“Please what, babydoll? Tell me what you need,” he demands.
He presses his bulge into your stomach and you can’t string together a sentence.
“I know, honey. You just wanna come, huh?” he looks down at you with a pitying expression and you nod your head so hard you get dizzy, too fuzzy-headed to care how desperate you look. He chuckles at you, “Say it. Tell me you need me to take care of you.”
“Please, Bucky! Make me come, take care of me. Just do something, please!” you sound absolutely wrecked and the groan Bucky lets out while he rocks his hips into you lets you know he gets off on it. 
“Fuck. Unlock your door, princess,” he tells you, pulling away and waiting by your door.
You’re surprised at how quickly you manage to dig you key card out of your purse and open the door in your aroused state. As soon as the door is open, Bucky grabs you and spins you around to face him.
“Jump,” he orders.
You drop throw your purse onto the table and wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck before jumping. He catches you by the backs of your thighs and effortlessly carries you to the bed, peppering kisses along your face and neck the whole way.
He throws you onto the bed and pulls off your shoes, placing a kiss to each of your shins. He then flips you onto your stomach and unties your dress. The way he manhandles you so easily sends a fresh gush of arousal to your core. He helps you shimmy out of your dress as he kicks off his shoes. You’re left in only your panties and he takes in the sight of your practically naked body and groans. He uses one hand to undo his belt and uses the other to reach down and palm your breast. 
“Goddamn, babydoll. No bra?” 
You don’t have the mental capacity to explain that you wouldn’t have been able to wear one with the open back dress, settling instead for reaching up and pulling him down by his collar until he’s straddling your hips. He leans back and unbuttons his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined abs one button at a time, throwing it to the floor when he’s done. He has a dark trail of hair leading down into his dress pants where you can see the large outline of his hardened cock. He leans down atop of you, veiny forearms resting on either side of your head. 
He snakes a hand down between the two of you and dips his fingers in the waistband. “Can I take these off, babydoll?”
You nod and reach to his neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t budge. 
“Need words, honey.”
“Yes Bucky, please.”
“Good girl,” he rewards you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.
His hand makes its way beneath your panties and he runs a finger through your abundant wetness, dragging it up to your clit. He uses your slick to rub circles into the sensitive bud. He pulls away from the kiss and you try to chase his mouth. He stops you by holding your head to the mattress with a hand on your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens. He looks down at you and spits directly into your mouth.
“Swallow for me, baby.”
You follow his order without a second thought. Once you swallow, he brings his hand down to your neck. He rewards you by bringing a finger to your entrance and slowly pushing into your tight hole. 
“Fuck, doll. I wanna be in this perfect little pussy. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up with my big cock? Wanna feel me deep inside you?”
“Yes, Bucky! Fu- I want it so-fuck so bad.”
He quickly adds a second finger and begins pumping them inside you at a brutal pace. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly and he watches your face to gauge your reaction. When your eyes roll back into your head and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, he grins and tightens his grip a little more.
The lack of blood flow to your head makes you feel fuzzy in the best way. You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Bucky keeps his pace as he fucks you on his fingers and keeps a careful eye on you, watching for the telltale signals of your climax. When he sees you squeeze your eyes shut and feels your pussy clench, he pulls his hand out altogether. 
You look up at Bucky and loosens his grip on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there. You buck your hips up, your orgasm fading away rapidly. Bucky uses one hand to pin your hips to the bed.
“Bucky, no,” you whine, “I was so close.”
“I know, doll,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. “You were a bad girl earlier when you paid for dinner. You’re supposed to let me treat you. Let me take care of you. You wouldn’t let me take care of you then, so I’m not sure I should take care of you now.”
“Bucky please,” you beg, “Won’t do it again, promise. Just-nngh just take care of me please. Need you to make me come,” you hope your pleading is enough to convince him.
Bucky lets out a deep groan and smashes his lips against yours. He makes his way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. He ever so softly bites down on your nipple and you thread your fingers through his hair. He continues to trail kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your panties, he places wet kisses against the soaked fabric. You try to buck up into his mouth, but his hand is still pinning you down.
Finally, he reaches into the waistband of your panties and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and throw them on the floor with your dress. You get another glimpse of the rock-hard bulge in his dress pants and you know that can’t be comfortable for him, but his attention is all on you right now. He makes himself comfortable between your legs and uses his hands to spread your pussy apart, getting a good look at it.
“Fucking perfect. Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen, baby.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his lips are on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue. You grab onto his hair with one hand and grab the sheets with the other. The screams you let out are almost pornographic. He alternates between licking your arousal up from where it’s seeping out of your hole and giving your sensitive clit attention. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you feel yourself returning to the edge of the orgasm you’d just been denied. 
He laps at your core and uses both hands to hold your hips down onto the bed. When your heavy breathing and the movement of your hips give away your oncoming orgasm, he pulls away again. 
“NOO,” you practically scream, on the verge of tears. “Bucky,” you sob. 
“That one was for giving me a hard on at dinner when you downed that whiskey.”
Before you have a chance to complain anymore, he places one last kiss on your clit and stands from the bed. You watch as he undoes his pants and they pool at his ankles. You can see a wet spot on his boxers where he’d been leaking precum. He drops those too and you’re met with the sight of him. His cock bobs up against his stomach.
He’s thick and long, with a patch of dark curly hair at his base. The tip is pink and shiny with his arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight and you want nothing more than to lick it off, but he crawls back onto the bed before you can make any move to do so. He hovers over you and you can feel the weight of his cock resting on your lower stomach. 
“You want this, honey? Want to come all over my cock? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning?” he ruts against your stomach, waiting for a response.
“Please, Bucky. ‘S all I want. Ah- fuck. Need it so bad. I need to come.”
“I got you, sweet girl,” he gives you a reassuring look as he grabs his base and guides himself to your drenched core.
He pushes his fat tip into you, watching your face for any signs of pain. You’re so wet and aroused that he almost slides right in. You try to push your hips down, desparate to feel him deeper. He’s quick to pin you down again. 
“Greedy girl.”
He eases himself into you at his own pace until his hips are flush against yours. You feel his pubic hair rubbing at your clit and begin to claw at his back, needing him to move.
“Fuck me, Bucky. Ah- god damn it,” you look up at him with pleading eyes, “Need you to move, baby.”
For the first time tonight, he listens to one of your demands. He slowly pulls all the way out, letting you feel every inch of his cock before he slams back in so hard it pushes you up the mattress. He braces himself with one arm on the bed and holds your hip with his other hand and sets a brutal pace. He thrusts deep and hard, tip pounding against your cervix with every punishing thrust. He moves the hand on your hip to rub at your clit.
“I’m not gonna last long baby. Fuck- be ah- be a good girl and come for me.”
You’re not far off and when he hits that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a scream. 
“Fuck, right there!” you pant.
He rubs at your clit and thrusts into your g-spot. You feel yourself hurdling toward your orgasm for the third time tonight. Except this time, when you clamp down around Bucky’s cock, he redoubles his efforts instead of stopping. You see stars when you reach your peak and you drag your nails down Bucky’s back. 
“Such a good girl for me, fuck. Where-ah where do you want me baby?”
“Inside, Bucky, please,” you want to know what it feels like to be full of his cum. “I’m on the pill.”
“Fuck, doll. So fucking good for me. My girl’s so good.”
You don’t miss the way he calls you his girl. And you certainly don’t mind it.
Bucky’s thrusts become shallow and his pace falters. He slams into you one last time and buries himself as deep as he can before shooting hot ropes of his seed into you. Once he empties his balls into you, he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. He slots his lips against yours and the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.
Once the two of you have caught your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and walks to the bathroom. You eye the dimples in his buttcheeks as he walks away. He returns shortly with a wet cloth and kneels between your thighs. He gingerly cleans his mess, aware of how sensitive you are. 
When he finishes, he throws the cloth onto the floor and climbs up the bed to join you. You climb under the sheets and fold them over on the other side, offering Bucky the space. He happily lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest.
“You’re beautiful, doll. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
“It was so good, Buck,” you manage to respond in your exhausted state. 
“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to punish you, too,” you can’t see his face, but you know he has a cocky smirk on his face.
“You’ll have to show me, then.”
“Oh, believe me, sweet girl, I plan to.”
You fall asleep against Bucky’s strong chest, his hand scratching soothingly at your back.
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dreamofjoys · 1 year
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𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓 !
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♡ A/N: Hello to everyone! I am excited to announce that I will be participating in kinktober 2023! This is my second time participating, so Im quite excited for it. There's a lot for me to write so I seek your understanding that I might not post them on the day itself (school is starting mid october eek but I will try and get it done). Last year's kinktober was focused solely on twisted wonderland but this year there will be other fandoms as well, and it will also be more plot focused? Hopefully that makes it more interesting. Only posting on some days
♡ Brief C/W: Dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, pregnancy, double penetration, stalking and many more (will update as it goes by but will state in more details at the start of each fic). Everything is strictly character x fem/afab readers only
♡ General rules: Minors DO NOT INTERACT, No mean or rude comments (why read when I already stated the warnings and synopsis?Just block if don't like or uncomfy) and lastly, DO NOT ASK FOR PART 2.
♡ Participating fandoms: Genshin Impact (Neuvilette, Wriothlesley, Zhongli, Ayato, Alhaitham), Honkai Star Rail (Luo Cha, Jing Yuan, Blade, Nanook, Dan Heng, Dan Feng), Twisted Wonderland (Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Leona Kingscholar)
♡ P/S: Everything is subjected to changes! Some fics are still in progress of brainstorming.. you can try to req and I'll see if I want to take up the idea. Just putting out the masterlist early to test and see how things go. Might make some changes here and there but it honestly just depends on my situation and mood. Also teasing you guys and adding some sneak peaks lol (I genuinely hope it's good) You can literally guess who will be in the fic base on the title. Will only open taglist if there's a demand.
DREAMOFJOYS KINKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION
DAY 1-7 ; 7 minute in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!
— Characters involved: Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR) — Synopsis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it? — Story parts: 1 / 2 /3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7
Day 9-11 ; The Demons of Xianzhou
— Characters involved: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Feng (HSR) — Synopsis: There has been a legend of demons existing and residing in Xianzhou for a long period of time. Surely, they can't be one of your closest friends, right?
Day 13-15 ; In the name of Justice
— Characters involved: Neuvilette, Wriothelesly (Genshin) — Synopsis: Two of the most well known men in fontaine has fallen head over heels for you. They claim that everything that they do is for the sake of justice
Day 18-19 ; Egg Incubator
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: A young maiden was chosen by her village and was sacrificed as an offering to appease the 5 dragon gods who were terrorizing their land. She plots to escape from them, but can she really succeed?
Day 20 ; The General's Slave
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?
Day 23-24 ; The Princes's Sin
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?
Day 25 ; The Acting Grand Sage's Filthy Secret
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?
Day 26 ; The Destruction of Nanook
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?
Day 29-31 ; Briar Valley's Eternal Ruler
— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?
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stayconnecteed · 11 days
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🪐˓⠀˚⠀the arrival⠀@⠀seven.
synopsys: nobody knew you were going to the wedding, and it really was a last minute decision, but you simply couldn't miss such an event in your little sister's life. your arrival, though, changed the dinner plans of your mother, and with a free night, some of the groom's men decided to celebrate late the new year ahead of them.
SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀10 . 6 k words⠀⠀skz mlist.⠀⠀monday .ᐟ
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⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀pairing ★ han jisung x afab!reader x lee felix.
⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀genres ★ non!idol au, wedding au ; friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, roommates to lovers, one bed trope, oblivious to love (idiots to lovers), it kind of starts as a love triangle but, polyamory.
⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀sunday's warnings ★ first chapter! this is more like an introduction, but still : mentions of insecurities, social anxiety, theraphy - selfharm is mentioned too but no one actually does it - and bad relationship w parents (reader's mother is the villain, yes). also, alcohol consumption, slightly drunk decisions - they still can consent tho. as for the smut part today is male on male action, kissing, hickeys, the usual + oral, protected sex.
⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀author's note ★ hehe. you'll see. this is for the jilix girlies out there (neutral intended tho). i'M SO EXCITED! also, this is my first time writing m x m sex so i'm absolutely sorry if it makes no sense :((
⠀⠀⸺⠀⠀credits ★ mdni banner by @cafekitsune + warnings : if any under 18 / ageless acc interacts with this series i'll block them.
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There was no cereal left when Jisung emerged from his assigned room, his mind occupied with the craving for a snack, wrapped in one of his most recurrent hoodies and with his pyjama bottoms hanging off his hips. For a moment he stood in the middle of the kitchen, frowning at the opened cupboard where he was sure he had left the box ーno cereals on the insideー as if the cause of all the world's misfortunes lurked behind the wooden door. He had just woken up, he couldn't process such an important loss when he barely had two functioning brain cells.
He had stayed up so late that he had been able to go out and watch the sunrise on the beautiful terrace in the living room. The jet lag was draining all the energy he'd been able to store up from the few hours he'd slept on the plane, and although he didn't know what time it was, the fact that there was no sign of Felix ーthe door to his room open, the bed unmade, but no sleeping blondeー meant it was past noon. And all he wanted was a bowl of cereal and milk, but apparently the flat where the Bhangs had placed them was haunted and would deny him the option of a quiet breakfast.
It was unfair. Especially since he had made the trip for him, his best friend, Chan, who was finally getting married. And of course he had enough money to pay for all the expenses for a week of celebrations but not for a single box of cereal for one of his best men. It was unfair. Maybe he did have some in his flat, that selfish Aussie. Jisung knew he was staying with his fiancée on the first floor, so he would just have to take the elevator and sneak into his apartment, carefully checking the kitchen until he found the cereal. It seemed like a perfect plan, so he walked back to his room, slipped on a pair of sneakers without even tying the laces, put on his headphones with the latest playlist he'd been listening to, and left the flat, leaving the door open.
Another reason why the situation was unfair: Chan's parents were filthy rich. They owned a luxury resort and several flat blocks in Sydney, where the event was to be held, and had decided to close the buildings for the week and accommodate the guests there. He knew that the property they were in was the closest to his friend's parents' home, something about Chan being able to visit Berry anytime he felt like doing so, and was also where the bride and groom and their closest guests ーbridesmaids and best men, plus other friendsー were staying. That included Jisung, who was sharing an apartment with Felix, the other Aussie in their group, and the terrible absence of chocolate cereal.
That meant that there was no need to lock the doors. Besides the fact that he was perfectly capable of forgetting the key inside, the only people who could get in were people he knew, people he trusted, so they treated the whole building like a big house. Which was a crucial part of his plan to steal Chan's cereal. He walked slowly to the lift, trying to wake up, rubbing his eyes to make the sleep fade away, and pressed the button for the first floor. The ride was fairly short, and once he arrived in front of the apartment door he completely ignored the “do not disturb” sign and went straight to the kitchen.
He had already achieved almost half of the plan. With Post Malone's ‘Sunflower’ blaring through his headphones, every step he took felt like Miles Morales at the beginning of his movie: nothing could go wrong. He had to open the cupboards one by one, because the distribution of food was different depending on who was living on which floor, but he couldn't hide the victorious smile that escaped his lips when he finally found them. Yeah, the brand was not the same he usually had, but brands were different in Australia, after all. And Chan had a very similar box of his cereals hidden in the kitchen between empty cabinets. He scoffed, what were those two eating? Each other?
Oh, God. Maybe they were. He had ignored the sign at the door because he had thought they were sleeping... But his little incursion could actually end up really messed up if his friends turned out to be tangled in the sheets. He was grateful to have the music blasting in his ears, just in case Chan and his fiancée were really, reaally busy, as he searched for a bowl in utter silence. After burying his head in the fridge in search of milk, and getting hold of a spoon, he sat at the newly refurbished kitchen island, watching TikToks with an absent minded air, enjoying the taste of chocolate on his tongue, humming contentedly.
It was the first time he was going to spend New Year's separated from his family. When Jisung had received the beautiful white letter with gold details in which Chan and your sister invited him to their expected wedding, he had accepted without hesitation. They were perfect together, and he wouldn’t miss such an important moment in their lives. Then, talking it over with Felix, he had realised that the ceremony would be in Australia, and that the festivities would last almost a week, starting on the third of January. It seemed like he would have a great time, but he had spent New Year's Eve on the plane, sleeping, instead of celebrating with his brother and parents, and he had certainly missed them a bit.
It was not the first time he had travelled to the hometown of his Aussie friends, but he never ceased to be amazed by the radical change of season it was to board the plane in Incheon, with the city covered in a thin layer of white snow, only to arrive in Sydney, and watch the seaside city stretch its lazy fingers towards the sun in a warm climate. Weather worked backwards there, blizzards decorating the summer and welcoming Santa Claus with a tropical setting straight out of the Caribbean. Jisung had missed the Australian Christmas that Felix talked so much about, but he didn't feel like going for a walk on the beach either. Not yet, anyway. 
He had actually been hiding in his room for almost two days, and he didn't think anyone could blame him. It was a change, and like all changes, he needed time to get used to it. Listening to his roommate share how much fun he'd had in the waves, hanging out with his family on the day they'd been in town, was enough for him. The big smile on Felix's face made him feel much better. And the chocolate cereal was a big help, as was spending the night watching old K-dramas. Startles, for example, were not.
And so when he noticed movement in his field of vision and looked up to see Chan, shorts dangling from his hips, hand on his bare chest and staring at him as if he'd just broken into his house ーwhich was so not trueー, he was so frightened that he nearly spat the cereal onto the counter. He started coughing like crazy after swallowing hard, and Chan ran over to pat him on the back, helping the air flow normally through his lungs again. He took off his headphones, and while the music was still audible coming out of the speakers, because he always listened to his songs louder than recommended, they heard your sister's sore voice from the bedroom asking Chan if everything was all right.
“I am, baby!” he answered, looking at Jisung with a raised eyebrow. “Jisung seems to have choked on our cereal, though”.
“Jisung?”
“Hi!” he managed to mutter, still trying to regulate his breathing completely.
“He is raiding our kitchen!”
“I am not!”
“Let him get some cereal, Channie!” protested his fiancée, and Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at his friend, knowing he had your sister's protection. “I'm sure he didn't have the opportunity to buy anything to eat yesterday.”.
“If he eats something now he won't be hungry at dinner, and you know how your mother gets if there's food left over!”
That was Jisung's life since Chan had started dating her. Before he was the child, cared for by the elders of the group, certainly suffering some friendly bullying that he didn't complain about, and trying to raise a laugh whenever he could. Now he was the son of the old married couple in love. They were not yet married per se, but they had been acting that way for some time. And he had been the lucky one who had not only gotten the privilege of Minho hyung having a soft spot in him, but your sister had one too, and that made him untouchable if they were around.
“But there is still plenty of time for dinner,” Jisung said, pitifully.
“No, there’s not,” replied the Aussie, frowning. “Dinner’s in an hour and a half.”
“Really?” he exclaimed, rushing to his phone to check that Chan wasn't trying to trick him. “I was looking forward to breakfast!”
“You can finish your cereal if you want, but it's already eight something.”
“Well, dude, you were still in bed, so what are you talking about? ‘Eight something' is too late for a nap, I don't know what...” Jisung opened his eyes wide when he saw the way his hyung was blushing and couldn't help but cover them as he got confirmation of what he had assumed they were doing. “Oh, no, I didn't want to know, God, you didn't have to tell me! What is wrong with you!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Your ears are red!”
Chan seemed ready to defend himself, opening his mouth to explain that he couldn't control his reactions, but then your sister let out a scream. He saw his friend's body tense up, brow furrowing again ーthis time tilted with worryー and he burst out running back to his room, so Jisung had no choice but to follow. It was his adoptive mom who had just screamed, and also his adoptive mom who was wrapped in sheets, beaming a glowing smile that had nothing to do with the shriek she had just let out, her phone lit up in her hands.
“Baby, we have to cancel today’s dinner.”
“Do not do that again, please” Chan pleaded, holding his hand to his chest again, feeling his racing heart under his fingertips. “Enough scares for today.”
“Sorry” she mumbled, sheepishly. “But! Look, my sister just texted me!”
“Your sister?”
“Yes!” she confirmed, setting the phone down on the mattress and bending slightly to pick up a shirt from the floor.
Jisung felt really uncomfortable as he realised that he had caught them unknowingly, and that he had been eating cereal while they were there… naked, doing stuff.
“She never replied if she was going to be able to come to the wedding,” Chan said, approaching his fiancée to gossip about the message she had received.
“Because she wanted it to be a surprise” she explained, shaking her fists in the same adorable way Chan did when he tasted a really good dish. “But she couldn't let Mom know she was coming, because you know how she'd get, so she just got to the airport and doesn't know where she has to go.”
“And we just call off dinner?” asked the groom, his eyes widening in horror. “Your mother is going to have a heart attack. Besides, what do we do about the announcement?”
It did feel like he was witnessing a random conversation between his own parents. For a moment, they hadn't even realised they were talking in front of him, too busy reading each other with their gazes, and Jisung just hoped that this announcement they were talking about wasn't a pregnancy. They would make great parents, but he wasn't ready to have a little brother.
“After a flight of so many hours, she's going to want to rest. Dinner and the announcement can wait, as can my mother. It's our wedding, and you know what my sister means to me,” she stated, clearly determined. “Don't mention what the plans were, anyway, please. I know she'd feel terrible if she thought she screwed anything up, especially if my mother had organised it.”
“Don't worry. We can make the announcement tomorrow at lunch, when she's rested. Now let's go pick her up.” he replied, caressing her shoulder gently. Then he glanced quickly towards Jisung, catching his attention. “Hey, Ji, this is your chance. You come with us and we stop at a supermarket on the way back? Cereal's on me.”
Who was Jisung to reject free food?
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Jisung had only met you once, but he remembered every single detail with precision.
It had been at a birthday party a little over two years ago. Chan was turning 29, and everyone was nervous because they didn't know how he would take the surprise party his girlfriend had thrown for him - he had never liked being the centre of attention. However, all Chan could think about was how nervous he was because his girl had told him she wanted to introduce him to her sister. Jisung had thought that the sister thing was a trick to make Chan go to the place where all his friends were gathered, but it turned out that you had shown up too.
From what Chan had told him, meeting your partner's parents was an important but stressful time. After all, most people place a high value on their parents' opinion when it comes to introducing them to the person they have fallen in love with, and all you want, as the person introduced, is to be liked. The dinner that the Aussie had attended could not have had a better outcome, with her mother smiling excitedly at him and his father hugging them goodbye. Although the mother was rather peculiar and Chan had heard too many stories about her, he had finally managed to win them over.
It hadn't been difficult because Chan's real problem had always been you, the older sister. The heiress of the family business who had taken the position of CEO upon your father's retirement. The devoted daughter who had sacrificed her adolescence to raise the youngest in the family, trying to follow your mother's strict guidelines without complaint. Your sister adored you, and appreciated everything you had done for her, and Chan knew that if there was anyone he should win over, it was you. So even though his girlfriend had assured him that you were a very shy and sweet girl, the aura of perfection that you radiated when your sister spoke your name had made him feel insecure.
And Jisung hadn't been able to help but feel the same. His heart had been racing with the erratic rhythm he felt before an exam he hadn't studied hard enough for, anxiety bubbling in his chest. It wasn't helping Chan calm down, and he didn't know why it was affecting him so much, but he couldn't stop the choking feeling. He'd known all his friends since they were little, and slowly their lives were settling in, becoming adults, while he felt like he was still the same loser teenager he'd always been. Besides, he didn't see a future where Chan wouldn't end up with his current girlfriend, and while he hadn't found it hard to feel comfortable in her presence, meeting her sister was different.
It was more serious. It involved opening up the group to outsiders, and Jisung hated change. But he had stood frozen as your sister flashed her trademark big smile, raising her arm to wave at you, beckoning you to come closer. He had watched you move through the crowd in your light dress pants, framing your waist with a thin belt, your loose hair floating with every step. Elegant, regal, classic. Straight out of a fashion magazine, perhaps from the section on looks to wear as a businesswoman. Jisung didn't even know what exactly had crossed his mind at the moment.
He had felt Chan deflate beside him, as blowfish out of danger, but he was still tense, his body a bowstring. He had tried to do the same, to relax, of course, while your gaze was fixed on his friend, but the only result had been to run out of air. Then he had focused on your sister, who gave off an infectious cheerful energy, and repeated to himself that if she was capable of looking at you that way, like you hung the stars on the sky, you couldn't be all that dangerous. He knew Chan's girlfriend, and while it was true that she trusted very easily, you were sisters. It was impossible for you not to have some of her kindness.
At least until Chan had uttered his name, introducing him as his best friend and co-worker, and then you looked at him. And the rest of the party had ceased to exist around you. His feet seemed unable to move, nailed to the spot where he had stopped to drink before he knew you were coming into his life. Your gaze was sharp over him, analysing him. He bowed slightly as he felt Chan's hand on his back, to acknowledge your presence and show some respect, but he could only take a relieved breath of air when your eyes stopped wandering over him, your attention back on whatever it was your sister was telling you about.
You hadn't spoken to each other. You had murmured a faint ‘hello’, but Jisung had never gotten around to responding ーat least not using his voiceー, so he had no conversation to evoke except the liquid embarrassment that still created shivers in its wake as he remembered the fool he had made of himself. He had merely looked at you like a child did with a toy, but through a glass, him on the street and you looking unreachable in your display window. At least, he hoped so. That you hadn't noticed, of course, but in case you had, that your image of him was that of a bashful boy who was nervous around you. 
He wanted to think that if he had looked creepy, Chan would have told him, even your sister would have told him. God, and he didn't think of you as an object either, the toy thing was a silly metaphor. Besides, more than nervousness, it really looked like raw anxiety. He didn’t really know if the way his heart had been racing was out of fear or shyness, but Minho had told him that it was obvious you had had a clear effect on him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He just knew he still kept making a fool of himself in his own mind every time he thought of you.
That was why he couldn't possibly allow himself to be with you in the same car, with no chance to run away as soon as he started to feel awkward. The most sensible thing to do, anyway, would be not to get into the car at all ーhe was already feeling awkward just thinking about itー, but he would have to give explanations that he wasn't prepared to utter out loud. And Jisung would rather swallow his anxiety and pretend to be civilised in Chan's car than admit that he had been thinking about you too often for two years.
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The surprise reflected in your beautiful narrowed eyes indicated that you did not expect that the first person you would see when you looked up would be none other than Han Jisung. He knew it, and he wasn't taking it to heart because after all, the one you had sent the message to was your sister. You were the spitting image of bewilderment, your expression of confusion turning into a frown until you spotted your sister behind his back and he saw you flash a smile he had never seen curving your lips before. The sting of feeling ignored cried in his chest, but he understood. You spent your life travelling, he didn't even know when was the last time you had seen each other.
Chan and he faded into the background as you hugged your little sister, murmuring greetings and 'I love you's in the arms of what you considered home, and Jisung stared at the disarranged way your dress had wrinkled at its bottom. You had been waiting sitting on the floor, legs crossed, your suitcase standing next to you, an image that contrasted with the neat way you had styled your hair, the expensive-looking dress you wore bringing luminosity to your face. You were slightly taller than Jisung thanks to the esparto sandals you had slipped on before taking a cab to the airport, but all he could think about was your smile.
The same one you addressed to him with an embarrassed curve once you separated from your sister, out of her embrace but still with your arms entwined, when the excitement of being with her again dissipated.
“Sorry for not saying hi” you said, your tone clear but warm. You nodded in his direction, pronouncing his name slowly, as if savouring it, and then went over to give Chan a quick hug ーno doubt having more familiarity with him than with Jisung.
“Do you remember Ji?” your sister asked, just as surprised as he was, as she led you to where her fiancé had parked.
“Of course! Chan's shy friend” you answered, smacking Chan playfully in the arm when he tried to take your suitcase. “No offence.”
“None taken.”
So you actually remembered him, and he wasn't creepy in your memories. Jisung had to suppress the smile that crawled into his lips just thinking about it.
“Do you remember me?” you said, raising an eyebrow with a teasing hint in your voice.
He wanted to scream that he did, his enthusiasm threatening with revealing the gradual way he was realising you weren’t as dangerous as he had thought, but he breathed before talking, “Yeah, definitely. Chan’s famous sister in law.”
“Famous?”
“Well, your sister doesn’t shut up about you, so it seems a reasonable adjective,” intervened Chan, saving Jisung some time to compose himself.
After two years he was talking with you, you two were having a proper conversation. It was amazing.
“Aww, my little sister can’t stop mentioning me?” you joked, an airy giggle escaping your lips. But the subtext was clear to Jisung, that comment had meant a lot more to you that you wanted to let on.
“Well, it’s not my fault you appear to be related to half the topics I talk about.��
Both sisters bursted out laughing, leaning into each other like two old trees in the park, and Chan opened his car, helping you lift your suitcase and bags into the trunk while your sister called dibs as passenger princess. Jisung had assumed the position he had before, in the seat behind the driver, and waited until you had sat next to him and Chan had started the engine to remind his friend of his promise.
“No worries, mate, I’ll get you your cereals,” he reassured him, chuckling under his breath.
“You didn’t have a proper breakfast for your guests this morning, sir?” you joked, earning an embarrassed laugh from your soon to be brother-in-law. Then Jisung saw you scoot over in your seat with your arms resting on your sister’s backseat, and ask, “Does Mom know I’m here?”
“I didn’t tell her anything, why?”
You cleared your throat, your brows furrowing with worry, “Last time I saw her, we argued. Like, a lot.”
Jisung tried to make himself busy looking through the window, averting his eyes from you two as he heard your sister whisper a fearful ‘Again?’, feeling like he was intruding on a conversation too private for his ears. Luckily, Chan surely had been thinking the same thing, because he pulled into the first free space he could find, quickly parking in the echoing silence that had fallen over the four of them, and with a strained smile signalled Jisung to get out of the car. He didn't even utter a word, just grabbed the keys, placed a sweet kiss on his fiancée's cheek, and joined his friend outside.
“They need time to talk about it” he said, like it would explain everything. Jisung nodded. “I think there’s a Wollies five minutes away, let’s go.”
If Jisung had to be honest, he hadn't actually noticed your mother. He knew who she was, but the first time he had seen her was at the engagement party she had organised for her daughter and Chan a few months ago. She had struck him as a serious but kind woman, who had not once dropped her smile during the entire event. Jisung supposed, in retrospect, that that detail was slightly incriminating, but only if she could be accused of being somewhat forced.
But in the short time that had passed since he had left the comfort of his bed until that very moment, every comment he had heard about her had helped him confirm an opinion that backed up the occasional ‘She’s crazy, mate’ that Chan had repeated in front of him so many times in his fast-paced English conversations with Felix, the thick Australian accent spilling out of every word.
Then he heard Chan sigh.
“This week is going to be hell for them.”
Jisung had never paid attention so fast before, “What do you mean?”
“We knew the wedding was going to be difficult with their mother around, but she didn’t want to leave her out of it” he muttered, as if guilt was eating him alive for sharing intimate matters of his fiancée's family life.
“You've got yourself a very sweet girl, hyung,” his comment brought a soft curve to Chan’s lips, just thinking of your sister's gentle soul, and all the times he'd had the opportunity to witness it. And then he sighed again.
“When her sister didn’t RSVP’d, I totally understood it, and even if it had hurt her, she did too because it was the best for everyone” he continued, guiding Jisung through the streets of his hometown effortlessly. “And even though his mother is probably the reason she is still going to therapy, she showed up so she could attend our wedding. I will be eternally grateful to her just for the look of happiness on my fiancée's face now that they are together.”
Therapy. You could go to therapy for many reasons. Jisung went once a month to help his anxiety, to vent about topics he didn't feel able to share with anyone. And although the day before, the morning of the session and even five minutes before he felt that he was drowning in the uneasiness of someone who has the feeling of facing a periodic exam, although the hour and a half with his psychologist turned him into a sensitive mess of tears and lonely puzzle pieces, that night he always slept better. Therapy helped. Jisung was glad you had that escape route.
“She has had no physical incidents,” Chan said. She has not attempted suicide, Jisung translated. “But I shouldn't have said anything anyway. It's one thing to trust you to talk freely about whatever, and another to share such sensitive personal information about someone without asking their permission.”
Jisung had always admired Chan, but now he felt proud of him, of his ability to keep his moral compass intact. He had to admit, with shameful embarrassment, that he wouldn't have been able to ask him to shut up if he had continued talking. Every piece of information about you seemed addictive to him, like adding emotional depth to a character who had been mentioned for several seasons but had never learned anything about. Chan had just shown him cracks in the smooth porcelain you decided to show as perfection, and now he wasn't going to be able to look at you without seeing you.
Chan put an arm around Jisung’s shoulders, a gesture of affection that he never tired of showing, and he realised that they had already arrived at the supermarket.
“Anyways, let’s go get you some cereal, hm?”
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Felix had two empty shot glasses in front of him when Jisung arrived at the Perfect Blues resort bar. He hadn't even looked at his phone since he had walked with Chan into the Woolworths closest to where you and your sister were waiting for them, but when he returned to the apartment with his box of cereal and some more snacks, he saw the notification he had missed it.
‘Hyung just cancelled dinner, wanna hang out?’
Jisung had smiled, thinking he would find the blond Aussie waiting for him in his room, but his absence was obvious, and the catastrophic state of the bathroom told him that he had taken a quick shower after spending the day at the beach and had decided to start without him.
It didn't bother him. Jisung always declined invitations to meet after dinnertime, generally because he felt he was much better off at home, with his belly full and falling asleep in front of his favorite TV show. Often his friend Minho would join him, but generally Jisung liked the quiet of the night. If there was anyone he was capable of breaking his comfortable routine, however, it was Felix. He had been called a simp too many times to avoid acknowledging that he would do anything for his best friend. Even stay best friends, even if his heart asked for more.
Walking to the resort pub where the dinner would have been held had been tricky because he couldn't quite figure out how to use the Maps app on his phone, but once he spotted Felix in the crowd, sitting at the bar but bouncing to the beat of the music the DJ was playing behind him, his shoulders relaxed. Jisung approached his friend with a big smile which the blond lazily returned, and he repressed the urge to wrap him in a hug by way of greeting. Normally they were very affectionate with each other, but the alcohol would bubble up way too easily for them, and that meant Felix would be clingier than usual. Jisung could accept a certain amount of physical contact with his crush before the certainty that it wasn't reciprocated overwhelmed him.
One thing at a time.
“What can I get you?” the bartender intervened between them before they could exchange a word, his accent thick and his gaze soft, and Jisung wondered if he was Chan's cousin.
“Whatever he was having,” he replied hurriedly, trying not to blush. Jisung didn't understand why talking to strangers made him so embarrassed. The man seemed nice. “Oh, and a glass of water, please,” he added. Given the hours it was, Felix would have time to sober up before leaving the place.
“How was your day?” he asked the blond, sitting down on the free stool next to him and leaning slightly towards Felix to hear him better.
But Felix seemed in a world of his own, watching him carefully and squinting.
“You have a mole on your cheek,” he whispered, and Jisung had to steady his grip on the bar to keep from falling over, his palm stretched out on the surface condensed by drinks that had already been removed, when his heart skipped a beat in his chest at his words, “That's why I like to give you kisses there.”
I wish I had a mole on my lips, Jisung thought, but he widened his smile. That wasn't Felix talking. He was just drunk. All there was to do was be patient and nice, because it was obvious to him that Felix didn't have a clue about half the words that came out of his mouth. Jisung had been in his shoes, he knew the lack of control that came with alcohol.
“That's cute,” he told him, resting a hand on his thigh to draw Felix into his voice so he'd understand what he was saying. “How was your day? I didn't see you today.”
“It's just that Hyune wanted to learn how to surf,” he explained, his knee moving under Jisung's hand to the rhythm of the beat. “We woke up early and ate out.”
Jisung was startled when the bartender set down a clean shot glass in front of him and picked up the bottle of whatever Felix had been drinking ーvodka, though he didn't like itー, refilling it at an overwhelming speed.
“Sorry it took so long, but I had to go get it inside,” he exclaimed, to make himself heard over the music, picking up a regular glass and setting it down in front of Felix. “His is on the owners, because of the wedding," he added, emptying in the glass a small bottle of water, which he opened in front of them, "yours is on me."
Jisung blushed again as the bartender gave him a playful wink, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ in response, and he couldn't help but check what he'd put on to get his attention like that. He'd barely had time to change out of his pajamas when he'd arrived at the apartment, so he'd grabbed the first thing he'd seen in the suitcase lying open on the floor of his room. It was nothing special. Oversize dark jeans and a yellow and black plaid shirt three times his size. Maybe it had too many buttons undone. Changbin always complained because he had another friend who did the same thing. But Wooyoung did it on purpose, Jisung just forgot.
Felix whined, breaking his train of thought, and tugged on Jisung's long shirt sleeve with an adorable pout pursing his lips, “You're not listening to mee.”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he told him, focusing on his friend, “I was thinking about...” he couldn't tell him what the bartender had just done, because he'd try to match them, and Jisung didn't want to spend the night explaining to the poor guy why he wasn't going to do anything with him, “what I'm wearing. Maybe it's not appropriate.”
“You look gorgeous, Ji, don't worry about it.” he tried to reassure him, the R's tangling in his mouth like a tongue twister. “I was asking you about Chan. No one's seen him all day.”
Jisung felt the temperature in the room rise too many degrees, his skin hot and feverish, but he didn't know if it was because of Felix's breathy compliment or because of his question, to which the only possible answer was hopelessly connected to sex. How was it his fault that his hyung was so horny?
“Chan hyung was busy,” he said, keeping his answer as concise as possible.
He felt like a twelve-year-old boy. He was old enough to talk about such things without being shy about it. Even if he wasn't too experienced, the Internet existed, and with it porn. Everyone knew what he was talking about even if he didn't say the word itself, because there were so many ways to call it. And yet it wasn't because of the subject matter that he was acting that way, but because it was Felix he was talking to. And talking about sex with Felix meant thinking about both at the same time. And that was dangerous.
Luckily, Felix was a hyperactive drunk, so if Jisung talked to him about something else he would forget what he had just asked.
“Did you only drink those two shots?” he gestured towards the bar, shamelessly changing the subject, and Felix followed his hand with his gaze.
“Seungmin had beer,” he whispered, as if it were a secret, “he gave me some.”
Seungmin would have loved to see Felix make a fool of Jisung without really being aware, the two of them alone in their shared apartment, totally uninhibited by his damn beer. He told himself he had to warn the poor Aussie that he had been poisoned by a dog. But at that moment what had gotten him high were the two shots he'd downed upon arriving at Perfect Blues, so he had to match Felix to keep the anxiety from eating him up inside at every sentence either of them blurted out, enough to remember his actions but still be able to blame any nonsense he did on the alcohol. So he sighed, turned, shoulder to shoulder with Felix, and emptied the vodka in one swallow.
The alcohol went down Jisung's throat leaving its harsh flavour in its wake, and he closed his eyes to keep them from tearing. He wasn't going to risk taking a second one, but in at least half an hour dancing it would kick in. It always did. Especially if the last thing he'd had was two spoonfuls of cereal. He just had to convince Felix to drink the glass of water. It shouldn't be that difficult.
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Jisung had taken a second glass of vodka. After almost an hour among the sweaty bodies of the people dancing around him, the room spun slightly when he moved his head. His mouth felt dry, but he couldn't stop. He had shouted every song, even if he didn't know it, surrounded by his best friends. Felix was glued to him, his hand on his shoulder, their legs intertwined, clumsy steps of an improvised dance. He was having a good time. He thought he was having a good time. He had to be having a good time, because he saw Felix's luminous eyes, the bright smiles of Minho and Changbin, who had dropped by shortly after, and he needed to match them.
He was tired. His muscles were throbbing, he felt sticky, transpiring through his shirt, and the heat was beginning to overwhelm him. It had stopped being fun at least twenty minutes ago, when the DJ had repeated the song that was playing when he had arrived at the bar, and the coincidence screeched through his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on Felix's body next to his own, and repressed the urge to melt against him. He rested his forehead on his shoulder, and the soft texture of his denim jacket pressed against his skin as Felix laughed.
“Look, Ji can't do it anymore!”
For a moment he wanted to laugh, as did the rest, at a joke that at any other time he would have found hilarious. But Felix was right. He couldn't do it any more. For two days he had been fighting the feeling of vertigo that shook his heart whenever he was left alone, and he allowed himself to think about his future. He had been left alone on purpose, knowing that an honest look from the groom or Felix would make him break down, because they always managed to make him burst open like a torrent. And it couldn't happen. Because he'd been holding back too long, and to snap at his best friend's wedding would be to ruin it.
So he sighed, disentangling himself from his friend, and slipped through the crowd back to the bar. He tried to crack a smile for the nice bartender, collapsing on the stool, and was able to make it genuine when he placed a glass of cold water in front of him without having to ask for it. He crossed his arms over the bar after taking a sip, ignoring all the background noise, and rested his head on them, hiding from the outside. As always, he told himself. Hiding from everything.
For a few moments he took deep breaths, trying to convince himself that he was being dramatic, that he had to pull himself together so he could get back. But then he felt a hand caress his back, and the comforting weight felt so gentle and familiar that he didn't have to lift his head to know it was Felix. He turned his face slightly, putting on a mask of happiness, the one he deserved, and forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat in an attempt to tell him it was okay.
“Come on,” he whispered, loud enough to be heard.
Jisung raised his head slightly, not really understanding what he meant.
“Come with me,” he insisted, holding out his hand.
He said it as if it was necessary, as if he had to have Jisung by his side, him and him alone, and Jisugn didn't hesitate to take his hand. He took a breath, preparing to go back to Minho and Changbin and the tide of people he knew would swallow him whole, but his breath caught in his throat as Felix laced his fingers with his, holding his hand as gently as he always did, and led him towards the exit. He helped him meander between pairs of friends chatting at the entrance to the venue, and couples flirting and whispering promises to each other in the darkest rooms, and Jisung felt like he could breathe again as he felt the soft Sydney night breeze on his face.
Felix didn't utter another word. Probably with anyone else, that would have made Jisung squirm uncomfortably, even feel trapped, but it was Felix. Sweet, smiling Felix, who had always been there for him. Of course his presence was going to be like a warm blanket on the harshest day of winter. Of course he was going to be head over heels for him.
And as they walked hand in hand, back to the floor, their shoulders brushing against each other with every step, Jisung knew he had to do something different. The alcohol coursing through his system gave him a dose of courage that his body lacked in his day-to-day life, and the reassurance he felt at his side, along with the constant touch of his smooth skin in his, made him form dangerous ideas. Like kissing him, for example. Normally, no matter how much he wanted to, he always held back, fearing the consequences. But he was tired of holding back. If Felix rejected him, he would learn to live with it. But enduring the constant uncertainty weighed heavy on his heart.
He squeezed Felix's hand, smiling, three times, and knew without looking that he was mirroring him. Then he repeated the squeezes.
Jisung waited, holding his breath, as Felix pulled out of his pocket the keys of the doorway. He had to let go of his hand so he could open the door, and he passed quickly as Felix held it for him. He walked to the lift, pressing the button three times, as he always did, and heard the sound of the door closing. He turned in time to see Felix twist the keyring's kangaroo-shaped bead his finger, and swallowed as he positioned himself next to him. It was the right moment. He just had to turn and do it.
But then the ‘ping!’ of the lift echoed down the hall, and Jisung grimaced. This time Felix moved the first, and waited until Jisung was inside to press the button for his floor, with a flashing four that lit up under his finger. Jisung knew Felix wouldn't say a word until he spoke, respecting that the energy had left his body, and waiting for him to recover before interacting with him. But Jisung hated it when that happened. When he ran out of energy, the thing he most wanted to do was listen to him talk.
But it was true that they were both engaged in waiting. Constantly. For everything. And it was exhausting.
“Hey, look, it’s about to strike midnight,” Felix was looking at the screen over the lift’s buttons, where a white ‘23:58’ stood out over a pitch black background. Jisung made an affirmative noise, his gaze wandering over the weather information that appeared under the numbers. “Do you want to pretend it's going to be New Year's? It'll be as if we hadn't missed it.”
Jisung nodded, smiling, and Felix took out his phone, turning it on. The screen lit up, this time a minute closer to midnight, and Jisung saw that the photo Felix had was one that Hyunjin had taken of them when they weren't looking at one of their get-togethers in the garden of Minho's house. He smiled at the memory while Felix enabled the option for the seconds to appear as well, so that they could count down together. They both waited, again, in silence, as the seconds passed. Their gazes remained locked on the numbers, shoulder to shoulder. And when the moment came, Jisung heard the Aussie whisper a faint ‘ten’.
One second, one beat of his heart, and they both uttered a quiet “nine”.
Felix turned towards him at the sound of his voice, his lips tightening into a luminous smile, when he realised that Jisung was following suit. He playfully nudged his shoulder, but returned his eyes to the phone almost instantly to watch the numbers change, “eight”.
Then Jisung remembered the tradition he had with his brother. For as long as he could remember, his family made wishes on New Year's Day, usually requests for good health and happiness between them. When he was little, under the rule of never asking for anything for oneself, he and his brother made sure the other wished for the gift they were looking forward to receiving most for their birthday. It pained him to realise that he had not been able to share it with his family again that year. And he hadn't wished for anything at the time January 1st began, either, because he had been sleeping on the plane to Australia.
“Seven.”
His most logical thought, he figured, would be to wish Chan and his fiancée an amazing married life. Lots of joy and shared memories. After all she had been through, and how hard he had worked for the stability they finally enjoyed, they deserved it. But it was also true that since they had met they had developed a complicity that allowed them to find the positive side of any situation, always. Maybe they didn't need it so much.
“Six.”
For a moment, he thought of you too. About the impeccable version of yourself you offered so that no one could ever make you feel the way your mother had again, and how lost your gaze looked when you didn't have your sister's attention on you. You did seem to need it. It was a difficult decision, because his heart certainly felt like it was willing to lean towards you.
“Five.”
But if anyone was present in his heart, it was Felix. And as he had decided earlier, he was tired of waiting for some magical moment when they would both decide to confess the secret love they had been professing to each other for years. That only happened in the dramas he watched with Hyunjin, and in romance books. But life was all about risks, and he had to be willing to take some if he wanted to move forward, just like his friends did. Just like Chan had done the day he met his fiancée.
“Four.”
Jisung held his breath. He didn't know if the vodka was still running through his system, but he felt more awake than ever. His heart was pounding too hard in four different spots in his body, thumping heavily against his chest, and even trying to escape through his temples. It was the nerves, he told himself. He was facing an irrevocably significant moment.
“Three.”
He reminded himself that this was no fleeting whim. His feelings for his best friend had grown with every interaction, every smile and every selfless cuddle. Felix always made him feel safe, helping him stop doubting himself even when everyone seemed to turn their backs on him, repeating over and over again all the antonyms of the negative adjectives Jisung used to conjure up when everything went wrong. Felix was his person.
“Two.”
Sometimes he drowned in those feelings, as intense as the usual flood of emotions that bubbled up inside him. But then he would look at him, Felix's gaze glued to his own phone, waiting impatiently for twelve o'clock to strike, and he told himself it would be worth it. It would take a weight off his shoulders, whether the kiss was reciprocated or not. He would take whatever Felix wanted to give him, and that would be enough. With him it always was.
“One.”
Besides, in Western culture, one of the many traditions was the classical midnight kiss, wasn't it?
Felix turned to him, phone still in his hand, lips parted, “Happy New…!”
And then he kissed him.
It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time it had happened that way: fast, unexpected, hungry. From that first kiss they'd shared at fifteen, practising for the latest years of high school, to the desperate way Jisung had attacked Felix in the middle of the elevator it had been more than ten years, but it felt just as familiar as it had in the past. Jisung closed his eyes, like he had once done, unable to think of anything but Felix's lips against his own. His brows furrowed, trying not to read too much into the kiss, to avoid getting excited by the way his best friend had reciprocated it.
A kiss could communicate a lot of feelings, but words were needed to make them clear.
“You’re drunk, Ji,” he said, his chest rising with each quickened breath, pulling his hands away from Jisung's shoulders, as if he had just realised he had put them there, of what had just happened between them.
“No, I’m not,” he whined, falling into the autumn brownish of his eyes, “I promise.”
It would not be the first time he had lied to himself. He just wanted to kiss him again, to feel his hands roaming his body without shame, and if he had to pretend that his tipsyness was not the reason he'd managed to act, he would. Again and again. To him, it was completely worth it.
“Please.”
Jisung saw the moment Felix’s selfcontrol crumbled under his touch, all the alarms that ringed in his head long forgotten. One single word, and he was all his. One single second, and Felix's hands were back on his shoulders, as if they'd belonged on the thin fabric of his shirt forever, moving up to his neck and ruffling his hair as he pushed him towards the metal wall of the lift. Jisung exhaled a sigh against his mouth, no longer resisting the consequences, surrendering to Felix, closing his eyes and memorising every caress. 
The crushing weight that had settled in his chest throughout the night had melted into a steady drip of desire sliding down into the pit of his stomach, a fire that crackled louder each time Felix intertwined his tongue with Jisung's. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. He couldn't believe that the way Felix's body was pressed against his, Jisung's hands on the soft arch of his back, was no longer purely platonic, and that every time Jisung grinded against him he let out that low groan, and that it was for him.
So when the ‘ping!’ echoed again in the tight space of the elevator and they parted for a shared breath of air, Jisung let out a giggle. Felix looked up at him with fully dilated pupils, flushed to his ears, and returned the shy smile, resting his hand on the one Jisung had on his waist to pull him towards the corridor. In a short, clumsy walk they both made it to the front door, and Felix opened it on the second try.
Jisung didn't even bother to check that the door was locked before leaning Felix against the wall and burying his face in the blond's smooth neck, kissing and nibbling every inch of skin he laid his mouth on. It was addictive how responsive he became under his hands, sliding pretty whimpers from the abc of his throat, shivering under his touch, his Adam's apple twitching under his tongue, his hips twitching uncontrollably against him every time Jisung's thigh moved against his crotch.
“Lix-ah,” he whispers, raspy voice, swallowing another embarrassing noise, his lips hovering over Felix’s.
“Hey,” he answers, his loop-sided smile cracking against Jisung’s mouth, unfocused, narrowed eyes observing him. “Can I suck you off? Please, Sung, can I?”
Jisung nods, his heart beating so fast he feels it will stop at any moment, and he manages to swallow with difficulty. He sees Felix licking his lips hungrily, and then how he hooks his index fingers into the buckles of Jisung's oversized jeans. He doesn't need to hold back the whimper that catches in his throat when the waistband of his trousers digs into the back of his hips. Felix has turned him around effortlessly, and now he's once again the one trapped between his lips and the wall.
He didn't mind. It was a position where he could lean on if his knees gave out. Especially when, still maintaining eye contact with Felix, he watched as he dropped to his knees in front of him. They had stopped looking at the time the moment Jisung kissed him, but just the same time seemed to have slowed down since then, his erratic breathing ticking off the seconds. He could only focus on Felix.
On Felix and the darkness of his pupils, watching him from below as if he were praying. On Felix and the softness of his fingertips as he carefully undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing his bare chest. On Felix and the warmth of his breath, which he feels exhaling slowly and heavily against his abdomen. On Felix and his hands, small and quick, resting on Jisung's hips, trembling in the air, grabbing him by the waistband of his trousers, undoing the button, pulling down the zip. Sliding the trousers down to the floor. Sliding his shorts to the floor. Kissing the tip of his cock with care and reverence. On Felix, Felix, Felix, Felix...
Jisung closed his eyes the instant Felix put it in his mouth. He felt a breeze of heat rise up his chest, settling on his cheeks, as he realised how much he had leaked into his underwear, and how little he wanted Felix to notice it. For the short amount of time that had passed, the precum stain had been embarrassingly obvious, but Felix seemed to have ignored it, too hungry to even pay attention. A shiver ran down his spine and Jisung wondered if it was cold or disappointment that Felix hadn't teased him for how excited he was. He seemed oblivious to his urges in the presence of the blond.
His mouth fell open with a moan, eyelids fluttering, as Felix began to bob his head against him, a tear of drool spilling over his pretty rosy lips, and he clenched his fists at the sides of his hips. It was amazing ㅡJisung hadn't had much experience in anyone's bed, but Felix clearly had, just by the skilled way he used his tongue, running it along the underside of his cock, smiling as Jisung choked on nothingness at the feel of Felix's throat so tight and warm around him. 
It made him want to be jealous of whoever enjoyed it before him, but he chose to focus on the fact that he was the one who had him on his knees at that moment.
“Lix, hahㅡ Lix, please,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with all he hadn't been aware of letting out until then, “I'm going… Lix, I'm cumㅡfuckㅡ I'm cumming…”
But he didn't listen. He didn't seem to want to. He was determined to savour the whole thing, and by the sharp look in his big dark eyes, Jisung knew he had it all to lose. Whenever he competed against Felix, he was always the loser. In this situation it will hurt less, he knows. So he lets go, whimpering his best friend's name between his teeth, his hand tangled in Felix's velvety, blond hair.
And when he managed to open his eyes, his labored breathing making him feel slightly dizzy, Felix was grinning like a sinner, waiting to make eye contact with Jisung so he could open his mouth and show him his tongue. He had swallowed it all. Dirty little thing. He had no idea Felix was that kind of lover.
But far from succumbing to his devilish face, Jisung grabbed him by the front of his white shirt, sticky and clammy under his fingers, and pulled him up, bringing their lips together in a spittle-filled, toothy kiss. He was desperate. To keep devouring him, to take him to his room, to prove to him why he should stay with him.
He sliped off his shoes with his feet, first one and then the other, letting Felix mimic him, and the clothes around his ankles are left lying on the floor as Jisung slidded his hand down to grab the back of his neck, his tongue clumsily in his mouth, and directs him, backwards, to the room he was assigned to when he arrived in the city. It was dark, but he didn't mind in the slightest. His eyes had grown accustomed, and the sight of Felix's shining pupils in front of his, the clear silhouette of his body as he pulled his jacket off, is enough for him.
He just wanted to feel it all, and hold every second of it in his memory.
Felix chased his mouth as Jisung broke away to remove his shirt, and it didn't take long for him to lift his hands, a shiver running through his body as the fabric caressed his nipples in his way up, kissing Jisung again as soon as he pulled it to the floor, amidst the mess of his room. He was able to fumble with the button of his dress trousers, ignoring the zip, when his legs hit the edge of the bed. He tugged them down with a jolt, and kneeled on the mattress, face to face with Jisung, his hands again wrapped around Jisung's shoulders.
They separated for a moment, the time it took Felix to childishly pull Jisung's open shirt to the floor, and he kissed him again, pulling him until he managed to have him on top of himself. Jisung rested his hands on the sides of the blond's head, pinning him to the mattress, sliding his tongue down Felix's neck, and felt his cock twitching, hardening against his best friend's bare thighs, when he heard Felix moan.
“Sung,” he said, eyes closed, wrapping his legs around his hips, pulling him close until there wasn't room for a breath between their bodies. “Please, I need… I need you, please.”
Jisung hid his face in the hollow between Felix's shoulder and neck, and poured a whimper over his sweaty skin, letting the friction of his hips push him a little over the edge. But Felix took one of his hands, his agile fingers curling around his wrist, and drew them to his ass, guiding Jisung's fingertips between his cheeks.
“I'm all ready for you, see?” he insisted, babbling lips moving against his ear. “You see, Sungie? ‘Touched myself… Just a bit, earlier in the shower.”
Jisung's head spinned as Felix whispered the slurred words into the room, quiet but too loud at the same time, and he released his grip so he could slide his hand across the mattress to his nightstand. The bottle of lube was nearby, always handy, and he picked it up with trembling hands, getting on his knees. Felix let his legs fall onto the bed, expectant, exposed, as Jisung poured it generously into his hand, bending down to leave a kiss on his lips while he slipped his fingers inside him.
The reaction was astonishing. Felix's cock throbbed over his tummy, his abs clenching and unclenching, mouth wide open. Jisung smiled, lowering his kisses to Felix's abused neck, working him open.
“My good, naughty boy,” he murmured, and Felix exhaled an breathy laugh, his hands tightly gripping Jisung's dishevelled sheets.
“Like… likewise,” managed to reply, but the words choked in his throat in a low whine when Jisung withdrew his fingers, leaving him empty.
He moved back to the drawer as fast as he could, grabbing a condom with sticky fingers, tearing the plastic with his teeth and pulling it down his length. Felix doesn't have time to process it, his hands clutching at Jisung's shoulders for dear life as Jisung slidded himself inside of Felix. They both held their breath, Felix throwing his head back, furrowing his brow, his throat buzzing with pleasure. Jisung waited, concentrating on not releasing right away, while Felix adjusted to him.
“So, oh, fuckㅡ so big,” he moaned, digging his short nails into Jisung's skin, “so good, so big, oh God…”
“Yeah?” 
He wasn't even able to respond, his gaze lost in the ceiling as Jisung slammed his hips against Felix's, the fucked out expression making Jisung groan. He loved that face. He was going to treasure forever those freckles that painted his friend's pretty face. His arms trembled as he kept pushing into Felix, gasps coming from his rosy lips, and Jisung tried to find him in the dark.  Felix welcomed the open-mouthed kiss with feverish urgency, mind too focused on his pleasure to notice that Jisung had caressed his way down to Felix's cock, jerking him off with renewed energy.
He wasn't going to last long, so he had to focus on Felix. Focus on squeezing his cock the right way, earning every sweet noise with pride, savouring the harsh flavour of vodka on his tongue.
“Sungie… Hah, Sungie I'm… I'm going to,” but Jisung didn't let him finish the sentence, drowning his gasps in another dirty kiss.
Felix tangled his fingers in Jisung's hair, making his hips stutter, the musky scent of their sweat tingling in his nose with each thrust. Jisung's muscles twitch as he notices the way Felix tenses beneath him, his cum spilling between his fingers as he cums, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. That was when he let himself go, jaw going slack as he emptied himself into Felix's warm hole, releasing all the built up stamina into one final thrust.
He collapsed, smiling lazily against Felix's skin, and hoped it was not a dream. Then he felt his friend humming, his chest too comfortable, caressing his scratched back. He had to get up, throw away the condom and clean themselves before he could even begin to think about sleeping. Once he woke up, he would deal with the consequences. Their whole friendship had been amazing, but that night belonged to him. Especially if Felix regretted it the next day.
Because Jisung knew only one thing. His last wish before midnight had been for Felix to kiss him back. It had been selfish and impulsive, but worst of all, it had been a wish for himself. That broke his mother's main rule, and probably meant that even if it had come true, it would have terrible repercussions.
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lila-lou · 8 months
Text
✨FaceTime✨
Summary: Jensen needs to get himself off, so he calls you.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Language, smut (kinda), fluff
Word Count: 1967
A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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“Hey babe… Kept me waiting quite a while”, Jensen’s voice came from the other end of the line.
You didn't even have to see his face to know he wasn't just calling. He was fucking horny, you could hear it in his voice.
You, on the other hand, didn't even have the strength to sit up anymore. It was a Friday night and instead of going out with friends, partying and socializing, you had such a tiring and shitty day at work that you left the last tiny bit of your motivation at the gym. After a hot bath, two missed calls and 7 messages as well as a picture of him lying in bed annoyed, you finally called your, well, kinda boyfriend back.
Unfortunately, since you both lived in different states, it wasn't easy to keep things in sync, although that wasn't even the biggest problem. In fact, Jensen was still married, had a family and a job that didn't exactly offer planning security.
Jensen and his wife have been having some pretty bad marital problems for several years, but to date he hasn't been able to bring himself to file for divorce. The day he found out that his wife had cheated on him, he got so drunk, that he could no longer decide between good and bad. That's when he met you. One thing led to another and the two of you ended up in your hotel room in the middle of Austin, where you had just completed a week of training for your job.
When you both woke up the next morning and started to sober up, you were sure that it was just a simple one-night stand. But fate probably had something else in mind. Within 48 hours, you met four times. In the supermarket, in the park and at the gas station.
A few weeks of texts, calls, and FaceTimes later, Jensen visited you in Montana. He stayed for a few days and told you about his family situation, his career and everything related to it. Despite your initial remorse about having something with a married man, you just couldn't stay away from him. You attracted each other like two magnets.
So 12 months later you were lying in your bed more than tired, which your eyes clearly showed.
“Sorry… crap day at work… I fell asleep in the bathtub”, you yawned, rubbing your eyes vigorously with your free hand before looking back at your phone, at Jensen. "How you doin?", you snuggled into your pillow.
“Ugh, it’s time for you to finally move your nice little ass to Austin. You would never have to work again. That’s all I can offer”, he grumbled slightly, causing you to roll your eyes.
“That's more than generous of you, but as your affair, living in an apartment on the outskirts of a city I barely know and have no friends in? That's somehow not so great. And… you know, that I want to make my own money”.
The two of you discussed things for a while, but after a about 20 minutes, the topic of moving, jobs and affairs faded more and more into the background.
“Where is Danneel?”, you murmured, realizing that he was at home.
"Out with a friend", he murmured before stretching and getting more comfortable. “But-” he started, but was quickly interrupted by you.
“But why you called…”, you finished his sentence and grinned knowingly.
“Why don’t you take off your hoodie?”. His big ass smirk beamed across your phone screen.
“Mhmmm… I don’t know", you started to tease him as you could hear him undoing his belt and zipper before pulling down his jeans.
It wasn't the first time that you helped him jerk off. It was almost a ritual now. When you both realized your feelings for each other, Jensen wanted you to stop seeing other men and at the same time promised you not to have sex with his wife anymore. But since Jensen found it really difficult to have so little sex, you had to resort to this alternative.
“Come on, sweetheart. I need this… badly”, he grunted briefly as he wrapped his hand around his cock and began moving it up and down. “Show me your nice tits”.
“Wanna see them?".
You could see the impatience in his eyes and you surrendered. Even though absolutely nothing could top what Jensen did to you every time you saw each other, you had to admit that watching him, getting himself off, was absolutely hot. Especially since his eyes were on you. Just the sight of you made him come.
You routinely leaned your phone against the bedside lamp so that you were completely in view before kneeling in front of it, low enough so that your ass touched the mattress again, before slowly pulling your hoodie over your head. You heard Jensen growl again when he saw your perfect breasts.
"Fuck… I wish I could touch those”, he muttered, unconsciously licking his lips.
"You do ? How about a little proof of your need?”, you whispered seductively, playing with the waistband of your panties. Jensen wrapped one hand tightly around his already rock hard cock and gave it a hard squeeze before starting to pump up and down again. He knew that you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you, which is why he winked at you and switched the camera mode so that you had the perfect view of his hard length. Even though it was a shame not being able to see his pretty face anymore, the sight of him, squeezing his cock, made your pussy clench aroung nothing.
“Look what you’re doin to me”, Jensen moaned deeply, tightening his grip a little. “I’m so hard just looking at your fucking tits".
“Well, that´s nothing new”, you grinned as your hands slid to your breasts, kneading them gently.
"Imagine what I would do to you if you were here right now”, he grumbled, watching your actions through the screen. You grinned knowingly, lying down on your back so that your phone's camera films you from the side, before you painfully slowly rid yourself of your last piece of clothing by lifting your hips slightly and elegantly pushing the material off your legs.
“Don’t you wanna touch yourself for me?”, he whispered, his voice heated. “Show me your nice, tight pussy Sweetheart". His voice was dripping with excitement and you knew he wouldn’t last long. Especially since it felt like it had been ages since the last time. "Tell me what you would do to me if I was in your bed right now”, you grin sideways into the camera before bending one knee and sliding a hand up your thigh.
“Fuck, (y/n)", he groaned with the effort. "I would spread your thighs", he started. "Before getting down on that sweet pussy of yours… As always, you wouldn't even last two minutes before you had a first class orgasm and squirted all over my tongue". You turned, so that your pussy was perfect in the picture, but your legs remained closed for now. Nevertheless, Jensen could see part of your wet, shiny folds, which made his cock twitch immediately.
“The way you're lying right now, I'd rub my cock between those juicy, beautiful lips until you're even wetter than you already are… Just before you´d came a second time, I would sink my cock so deep inside you that you would forget to breathe”, he grunted, speeding up his hand movement as you began to rub two fingers over your glistening pussy.
“Fuck, push your finger inside”, he groaned, almost annoyed by your teasing. “Imagine it’s my cock. I want to hear your sweet moans”.
With that, you let your thighs fall apart, giving Jensen a perfect view of your clean-shaven pussy, drenched in your juices, before sliding two fingers inside you. The throaty moan, which was a little too loud, almost made Jensen choke on his own spit. He missed you even more than he ever expected. With his Airpods in his ears, he could hear every little whimper, every breath, and most importantly, every movement of your fingers on your swollen and wet clit.
“Jay… fuck, I miss you”, you let your head fall back with another moan as you continued to play with your clit, two fingers still inside you.
For a brief moment his feelings almost overshadowed his excitement, but when you kept moaning, he had to concentrate on his violently swollen and twitching cock again. “I would fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to do anything but trying to catch your breath.. You couldn't sit for days because I would tear your tight little pussy apart. I would remind you what it's like, to get fucked by a real man".
By now it was hard to tell which of you was panting harder, who was closer and who just wanted to simply feel the other for real again.
“After I fucked you this good and you would be trembling beneath me, I would shove my cock down your dry and tired throat until you could finally taste me. And like a good girl you´d swallow all", he grunted, running his thumb slowly over the wet and swollen head of his cock.
“Jensen… shit”, you came, soaking your fingers and your entire palm. Your pleasured, exhausted moans echoed in Jensen's ears as he closed his eyes for a moment, imagining exactly what he had just said.
“Fuck (y/n)”, he gasped, spilling onto his stomach while struggling to breathe.
You both just laid there for a while. The tension and stress of the last few weeks washed away as you stared at the ceiling.
After a few minutes, Jensen broke the comfortable silence. “Gimme… like… five, Sweetheart”, he mumbled into his phone before getting up and heading to the bathroom to clean himself up. You also used the time to freshen up before snuggling back into your bed. You lay on your side, holding your phone tightly in your hand, waiting to see your boyfriend's pretty face again.
“Hey”, Jensen mumbled as he sat on the porch a short time later with his phone in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. “Hey, yourself”, you smiled softly.
For a while the two of you just looked at each other. Lost in each other's sparkling eyes.
“I miss you, Jay… a lot”, the corners of your mouth twitched down briefly. Jensen sighed and took a long drag from his cigarette.
"I know sweetheart. I miss you too”. His hand, with the cigarette between his fingers, rubbed his forehead firmly. "I promise you, I'll sort things out". His look showed that he was serious. Jensen knew it was time to clean up, no matter how dirty it would get.
“I love you”, he murmured, flicking his cigarette away and watching you snuggle further into your pillows. “I love you more”, you yawned exhaustedly. “Sleep tight, (y/n)”, he smiled slightly.
Jensen stayed on the phone until you fell asleep before hanging up and returning to the here and now.
Each of your calls and each of your meetings was a little escape into another world. To a better world. You made each hotel room a place where Jensen felt safe. Felt like home. The thing he hasn't been able to do for ages. You were his home. And he didn't just want to visit anymore. He wanted to be home forever.
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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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cosmic-crybaby · 8 months
Text
Break My Heart Again- Tommy Shelby x Reader
Part 3
Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.
Warnings: Angst, mutual pining, betrayal, emotional manipulation, emotional whiplash.
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It was 1919. Over a year since she left Thomas and the betting shop behind. [Name] was stuck in solitude for days, and each day her mother comforted her, easing her daughters cries until she slept. The first person to reach out to her since she had left, was Ada.
"Please talk to me [Name]," She had asked her friend, sitting across from her at the small dining table.
"There is nothing to say, Ada...I can't go back, not now," She picked at her nails anxiously, the deep burgundy lacquer slowly chipping away.
"Believe it or not, it hasn't gone completely to shit, but Aunt Pol is having a hard time finding reliable people to do your job-"
"That's not my job anymore," [Name] reminded her. "Listen I'm sorry...I really am,"
"Where will you go now?" Ada asked. The girl opposite to her thought for a moment, she could be a barmaid but the chances of running into the Peaky boys were high. Jobs for women were scarce now that the men are back. So she just opted to respond with a shrug.
"No idea, Ada..."
Over a year later and she managed to get a job at the local library. It was quiet, of course, but at the very least she was able to put some of her knowledge to good use. It paid well enough for her to live comfortably and it kept her hidden away from running into the Shelby Family. She was just glad she didn't have to resort to becoming a prostitute. Her mother would have a heart attack is that was the case. With the exception of Ada and Polly, who would often drop in to have tea with her and her mother or bring treats and gifts. Sometimes [Name] felt they only offered these gifts as peace offerings, of behalf of what Thomas had done. It was as if they still couldn't forgive him, and they would understand if she couldn't either.
Because in the last year, she had changed.
Physically and mentally. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, the stress of illegal betting and horseracing, the stress of Thomas Shelby had left her life, which in turn rewarded her to grow even more. In only a year, she begun to finally get noticed by the other young bachelors of Birmingham. Little did she know, she had them turning their heads all this time, she was busy with her eyes on someone else.
It was one afternoon when she met her current suitor. His name was Daniel and he was the sweetest man she had ever met. Considering she had only surrounded herself with the three Shelby men and the Peaky boys, that was a big change. While she was working at the front desk of the Library, he requested some aid in retrieving a couple of maps of the world. She didn't pay any mind to Daniel at first until the third and fourth week he had come in, still asking for her help.
"I remember you, I would assume you knew where the maps were by now," She quietly cut him off. This caught him off guard, making him flustered as he tried to search for his words. [Name] only smiled as she watched the dark auburn haired man blush more and more.
"I-I am sorry miss...I just," He cleared his throat. She arched her brow at him for a moment. He was at a loss for words as he admired her beauty. That day he had asked if she'd like to accompany him to some dinner in London, to get to know each other more.
It had been a very peaceful and cherishing month with Daniel, she found that he was a traveling business man and was looking to expand his company in America. But, like all good things it came to an end when Thomas Shelby came into the picture once again. While in London with Daniel, he took her to the shops to buy a new dress to meet his family one night. She had broken away from him as he spoke to the salesman about the dress he was about to purchase. Stepping outside to look at the lightly clouded sky, examining the different shops on the street.
"[Name]?" The voice sent shivers down her spine. She quickly turns at the mention of her name towards the deep voice.
"Thomas?" She asked, surprised to see him.
Seeing the man that broke her heart and betrayed her trust right in front of her eyes was like a whirlwind of emotions. She didn't know if she should stay, run, or beat him until he was blue and on his knees begging for her forgiveness.
But, she was better than that. She was with a man who actually loved her.
"It's nice to see you again," Thomas told her, stepping closer. She subtly takes a step back, clearing her throat as her eyes dart to the shop entrance, praying to God that Daniel will emerge soon so the two can leave the awkward interaction and never turn back.
"Yeah, sure, Thomas..." She nods slightly. Thomas Shelby didn't forget what happened between them over a year ago, but he was perplexed that she would still treat him like a stranger, even after all these years of being as close as they once were. Within that year of missing her by his side, he refrained from showing up at her home to see her, refraining from asking Ada and Polly to tell him what they had discussed when they visited her. Part of him hoped that her and her mother still took those evening walks in Uncle Charlies' yard after dinner. Thomas often found himself at Charlies' yard nearly every night, hoping he would run into her.
But that's exactly what she had avoided. [Name] did everything in her power to avoid every little place and thing Tommy knew about her. IT seemed to work, until this very moment.
"What brings you here?" She asked curiously. Hoping she didn't have to put her favorite dress shop in London on a list of places to avoid Thomas Shelby.
"Just...doing some business in London as it seems...until I saw you leaving the dress shop...thought I would come and say hello," He shrugged. [Name] looked down at her gloved hands, pondering her next words.
"I see...well, goodbye Thomas," She nods once, still avoided his eyes, afraid that once she sees his eyes again, it will start all over again. The warmth he gave her, the butterflies in her stomach, the cure to all of her hardships. She makes hasty steps past him, but his hand reaches out to grab her arm...it was gentle but firm as to not hurt her. He always knew how to be gentle with her.
"[Name], please..." He said quietly. She felt the tears brim her eyes as she slowly turned to him again. Slowly lifting her gaze to his eyes. Once he saw her tears, it was like everything around them had stopped. It was just them two together and no one else.
"What Thomas? What could you possibly want from me now?...After all this time, when I am finally happy you come into my life again, why?" She asked, sniffling as the small tears rolled down her high cheekbones and onto her chin. Her skin blushed, and her eyes were red with salty tears. He was at a loss for words at first.
He gently spoke her name again, reaching down to pick up her hand in his, testing the waters to see just how much she will accept from him. Her hand twitched and nearly jerked away as he slipped her glove off. Feeling the warmth of his skin made her comply. His hands were rough now, from the years of digging tunnels and fighting. She had no doubt that his hands and mind were both distressed.
"I...I'm sorry for how things ended between us...frankly I can't stop thinking about you," He told her regretfully. Her eyes were shining in the dim light of the London sun, the tears glistening as they roll. Each one looking like diamonds.
"You're sorry...After a year you're finally sorry," She almost laughed. Thomas only sighed.
"Yes of course! and...and I regret everything I said, I can't live my life without you, [name],"
"You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you!" Her voice raised just a bit, before realizing that she was still in public, as to not bring attention to herself. For once, Tommy didn't know what to say next. His eyes darted across her face. Her cheeks were red, her brows were furrowed in frustration, and her lips... Oh those lips he had always wanted to kiss deeper each night upon his return, they were downcast in a frown. He released a sigh when he realized her eyes had not left his this entire time. He knew she still loved him deep down. She just couldn't bear it. His thumb ran over the top of her hand gently.
"I hurt you, I know that now and...There is nothing else I can say other than I am immensely sorry, give me another chance [name], I can prove it to you that I am a new man, as friends or more I need you in my life,"
His words made her lips tremble as she closed her eyes to think and steady her breath. She opened her eyes first before she opened her mouth to speak.
"[Name]?" A voice called, and suddenly the bubble bursts. It was like the busy street surrounding them suddenly became clear again. It wasn't just the two of them in the world anymore. She turned her head from Thomas to Daniel. The man she adored more than anything, as he searched for her. Thomas also managed to sneak a glance at the stranger, and his cold heart sunk a little deeper into the pit, leaving a sour taste in his mouth and a clenched jaw. She looked back at Thomas.
"Think about it," He whispered before walking off.
[Name] stood in her place in stillness as she tried to process what just happened to her. Daniel approached her, smiling widely as he informed her that he purchased the dress and reassuring her that it will look lovely on her for the dinner party with his family. She gave him a small smile before it quickly faded when he looked away from her.
The days leading up to the dinner party, she had thought of Thomas. It was like he himself had infected her mind as she had no more room to think clearly of anything else besides him and the words he spoke to her. But could she really trust him again?
Should she trust him again?
Every day and every night she had spent with Daniel, she tried her best to reciprocate the love he had for her, but somehow something was wrong. She didn't love him the way she loved Thomas. The night of the dinner party, she waited for Daniel to pick her up. Wearing the dress he had bought her, the jewelry she borrowed from her mother, and the hair and makeup she spent hours perfecting just to impress his family.
"What's wring, dear? Your hands are shaking," Her mother pointed out as she helped her daughter prepare.
"I...I don't think I can do this," She swallowed thickly. But before her mother could even ask, there was a ring at the door. [Name's] stomach was in knots and her blood ran cold. Her mothers words of encouragement were drowned out by her own raging heartbeat. When she opened the door, her mouth was agape. Expecting to see Daniel, instead Thomas stood at the front door.
Out of breath and panting. No words were exchanged as they stared at each other. She nearly leaps into his arms as she engulfs him in a tight embrace. It felt right, being in his arms again. Like they were kids again.
The following days, she kept her distance from Daniel, much to her mothers dismay. She had written him a letter.
To my Darling Daniel, I am sorry things had to happen this way. You had shown me the love no man has ever shown me before. But I am afraid I do not deserve it. Our time together was more than I could ask for, but I simply cannot keep loving you the way you want me to. I will forever cherish our memories together in my heart, as you were the only man to treat me a way a woman should be treated. I hope you find love again, and the next woman you find love in will be a very lucky to have you. I will always have you in my heart. [Name].
With the letter, she returned the dress he had bought her, she thought it would be ill-mannered to keep it. She hadn't heard from him after that. Not even a letter back, but she knew why. She would never hold that against him.
The following week, [Name] had began showing her face around the betting shop again. Here and there popping in to talk to Ada and Polly, slipping away into Tommy's office to speak with him when he wasn't busy. It was a but of a shock to the Shelby women when they saw her. They thought she was crazy for showing up again, but she had reassured them that everything was fine.
For months on end, [Name] and Thomas would spend their time together. Hand in hand as they drunkenly walked along the streets after visiting a pub on the weekends. Dancing to records in her home, holding each other close as they slow danced in the fire-place lit room. One night they went to the old hill, the same hill they used to go to when they were kids. Laying beside each other, drinking a bottle of cheap wine as they star-gazed. It was the only place where the sky wasn't absolutely covered by the smoke and smog of the city.
"I forgot how beautiful the sky was at night," She spoke softly as she sat up, eyes scanning the sky.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He asked, leaning his shoulder against hers. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly with a nod, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Thomas?" She asked. He hums.
"I missed you,"
"I missed you too, [Name]," He spoke truthfully. That night, they shared a kiss.
A week later, she approached him in his office.
"Pol said you were going to the derby..."
"We are...It's an important matter of business, [Name],"
The girl sighs. "I know that...I also told you I would go with you if you needed me to,"
"No..."
"Uh- no?" She asked, perplexed.
"Absolutely not, Kimber is a dangerous man, you're not coming with us," He argued. She aggressively rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air before putting them on her hips.
"I was hoping to come talk to you without being interrupted-" She mumbled.
"And I was hoping you would know better than to ask to join on this mission-"
"Then who are you taking?" She interrupted him, crossing her arms. Thomas sighs, shaking his head in disbelief at her childish attitude.
"The barmaid,"
"The barmaid? Why the fuck would you take the barmaid?" She asked. He widened his eyes at her for a moment. She bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for his response.
"It's all a part of the plan, please trust me," He stood as he slowly walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her mind. She pursed her lips, a solemn look on her face.
"I don't care who goes with you to the derby, I just can't sit here and hope you'll come out alive one of these days...I-" She pauses. "I adore you too much, Thomas,"
He pulls her into a tight hug, his hand caressing her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Everything will be okay," He reminded her. Lifting her chin to slowly look at him. Her eyes, as alluring as they were. His lips attack hers in a rough kiss. Pushing [Name] against the wall as her fingers pull at the fabric of his white shirt, his body pressing against hers. She could practically feel his heart beating against her chest. His hands slipping down her body, her waist to her hips to the roundness of her ass. His strong hands gripping every curve of her as he started pulling at her dress with his hands. Pulling away to catch their breath, but before she would dive in for another kiss Finn had burst through the door, inquiring that their Aunt Polly needed to speak to Thomas at once.
Begrudgingly letting him handle his business, she was left alone in his office, blushing and fanning herself with her hands as the heat began to rise, biting her lip in bafflement.
She wanted to see him again and ask about the kisses they had started. What they meant, what would have happened if they weren't interrupted. But Thomas too involved with conspiring against Billy Kimber. Fucking Billy Kimber. Hearing his name made her clench her jaw. He had been the talk of every family meeting since he found his way into Birmingham just weeks ago. But Thomas was just too busy. Too busy to talk to her. Eventually, too busy to even see her as frequently.
She recognized the pattern. It was what happened to her before he left for France. If only she could just read his mind, find out exactly what was going on in that head of his. From seeing him and his eyes, his smile every day, to seeing him at least once a week. This time he would still act the same with her. Kind, gentle, caring, but somehow she knew it was different. He wouldn't touch her, or kiss her like he used to. [Name] thought that maybe, just maybe, if she told him how she felt everything will go back to normal. Perfect even.
She just had to wait for the right moment.
When Thomas had come to her home for an evening tea with her and her mother, she decided that she would tell him then. The tea was nice, the conversations went well. [Name] was eager to finish, to get it all over with, waiting for their moment alone. Later that night, after her mother excused herself to bed, the two sat on the couch, sharing a whiskey as they talked. She sat her glass down when he called her name to get her attention.
"I need to tell you something,"
Her ears and cheeks grew warm as she looked at him, eyes brighter than ever.
"I actually need to tell you something too...but please go first," She smiled. Thomas turned his body slightly towards her, seemingly less enthusiastic as her. Thomas clears his throat before he spoke.
"I want to start off by apologizing for not seeing you as much these past few months, but I promise everything is going to work out for the better in the end, not just for my family, but for yours as well..." He paused, holding one of her hands in his.
"Thomas," She glances at their interlocked hands before looking up at him again. His blue eyes didn't look as bright in the dim lighting of the room.
"You have been with my family since the beginning, and you helped us out when we needed you the most, when everything takes off, I want you by my side through it all, promise me that you will do that for me [Name]," He requested. The young woman stares into his eyes once more and nods silently.
"I can't imagine leaving your side...ever," She stated quietly. Thomas looked down again, smiling slightly. As far as she knew he rarely smiled now...the only time she saw him smile was when he was with her.
"There was another thing I wanted to talk about," He started. She nods, urging him to continue. "There's a woman,"
His voice dropped low, the way he said 'woman' rumbled as her cheeks flushed. At the drop of a pin, her lively face slowly dropped at his words.
"A woman?"
She sank into the sofa as he spoke, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Her mind went numb, buzzing as she blankly stared off into the shadows of the room. He loved her, convinced her to leave Daniel, kissed her, treated her like she was the only woman for him...almost married her. All those years together, meant nothing to him. Once again. She should have known better than to get attached to a man like him.
A man only out for his own good.
"[Name]...You're crying," He pointed out, stopping mid-explanation to wipe the tear. She wanted to tell him. Tell him she loved him, that she wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of their lives. She looks at him and smiles.
[Name] shook her head and sniffled, chuckling and looking away to wipe the tear.
"I'm just...really happy for you Thomas...She seems like a nice woman," She didn't hear a word he said about her. The mystery woman that had stolen his heart.
'If only you knew what I felt'
After Thomas had left that night, she went to her room, sobbing in her bed. The heaviness in her chest weighted her down as she was held into place by rocks. The agony she felt, not only for herself but for hurting the only man that loved her. All for nothing. It was too late to go back now.
---
[Tag List]
@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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you ask for dbf!hotch thoughts? i will absolutely deliver ‼️
okay so imagine it’s like midnight and you’ve been locked out of your place (it’s not the end of the world, your family has the spare, but they’re likely already asleep)
the only thing you can think of - your last resort so to speak - is your dad’s best friend because god only knows agent hotchner keeps godawful hours, and he’s been enough of a constant in your life to know that at the very least he’d probably let you crash at his for the night.
so after a quick call and being greeted by a surprisingly raspy voice (that suggested you had in fact woken him up), he’s said to “stay put, honey. i’m on my way.”
this is just an excuse because i’d love to see domestic fluff 😩💕
having to borrow a pair of clothes, showering at his place and you’re driving him crazy because you’ve used his body wash and now you fucking smell like him?????!!!! sharing a bed and latching on to him in the middle of the night (you have absolutely no idea) because all you want is to be held by him I MEAN TALK ABOUT UWUS
just an idea 🥰
anyway i’d love to see you write this because you’re a fucking phenomenal writer <3 kisses mwuah
THIS- AAARGH 👹👹
this post is 18+ (and so are its characters), minors dni.
it's not that you're afraid they'll be mad at you for waking them up, it's that you literally rang the doorbell 934572475 times and they just didn't answer.. like they are DEAD asleep, you can't get in and you don't want to set off the alarm system so you're stuck on the front porch for the night :( your friend is out of town and you don't want to walk back to work to call a hotel to set up a reservation for one night, so you're kind of at a loss!! but then your eyes stray to a little muddy footprint on the sidewalk and you're like aw yeah that's when jack stepped in mud and then tracked it over the lawn and then you're like !! jack !! and his father !!
you know for a fact that jack is sleeping over at the neighbors house bc you'd seen him earlier, and you're fairly certain that it's because aaron needed to stay late at work. you're hoping he's still there, or at the very least, still awake, but when you call and he answers on the second ring with a very raspy 'hotchner', you realize you'd probably woken him up.
you're nervous now, because he's only been kind to you in the past, but now you've interrupted what little sleep the man gets, and what if he's angry? so you explain yourself very apologetically, assuring him that it's totally okay if you don't want to. but he barely hesitates before saying “stay put, honey. i’m on my way.” like you've said... WHAT IF I MARRIED HIM ??
UGH maybe you've been out with your friends so you're in a kind of skimpy outfit so he comes to pick you up like O.O and you laugh like if there's any spare t-shirts you don't mind me using, can i sleep in one? and he's like mhm. yeah honey i can do that. and he lets you use his bathroom 'cause jack's tub is full of bath toys and kid shampoo, and he's given you a shirt and some old loose shorts to sleep in, but you come out of the bathroom in your towel asking for a spare towel for your hair.
as he hands it over he realizes you smell like him now, because, oh fuck, of course you used his shampoo/body wash, and you brush out your hair using a little tiny brush that you ask him to retrieve from your purse. he definitely sees a tube of lipstick in your purse and he definitely imagines how it'll look on your lips and how it would look smeared on his cock
now while you were showering he'd gotten back in bed under the covers and was reading the newspaper with his little reading glasses on and !!!!!! you've never seen such a domestic sight !!!!!!! you're sure you could have crashed on the couch but it's a loveseat, not a full sofa, and :( it just wouldn't be comfortable :( and jack's bed is def too small, so when you're changed and ready for bed, you just hop right up into bed beside him and he looks at you like 🤨
you're like thanks for letting me stay here, aaron and he doesn't dare suggest you sleeping anywhere else, just nodding with a sweet little smile and asking if you were ready to turn off the lights. when you nod and snuggle into your spot in the bed he flicks the lamp off, and settles down into his spot. there's minimal talking, because neither of you are sure what to say, but once your breathing evens out and you drift off to sleep you roll over, in search of the warmth that he exudes. he doesn't even pretend to dislike it, he doesn't bother readjusting you or anything, he just curls his arm over your waist and helps you get your head on his chest <333
and when he wakes up to you clinging to him like a koala, he just kisses your forehead and brushes your hair away from your face to ask if you want breakfast 🥹🥹🥹 he mumbles it against your skin and everything all sleepy and soft GAH I NEED HIM <3
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rafesgoldrings · 1 year
Note
what about Rafe has a girlfriend but he's only with her because he wants her bestfriend *drumroll* the reader
Going to tweak this just a tad bit while still keeping the original concept, I hope you enjoy it! I’m also in such a sappy mood that it’s gross😭
She knows he wants you. She can see it in the way he glances at you when he thinks she’s not looking, the way he lights up when you’re around, the hugs that last a few seconds longer than they should. And she knows you like him, maybe she was too into him to notice at first, maybe you’d always had a crush on him but never told anyone, but she sees it now. Sees how your expression mirrors his when you see each other and act like nobody else is around, how you seem to know every little detail about him and all his favorite things, how you’re the one that always knows what’s going on in his life. And really it’s no surprise, the two of you had known each other longer than she knew you, everyone always talked about how it was going to be Y/N and Rafe. You would get married, start a family, and be the next big thing on the island. But the two of you seemed to be oblivious to the others feelings, insisting you were just friends if anyone questioned you, and she knew she had to do something. You were her best friend and while she did like Rafe, she knew the two of you were in love. That’s why she invited the both of you to the country club for lunch, without the other one knowing of course. When you arrived and saw Rafe walking towards the table, your best friend nowhere to be found, you were very confused.
Rafe on the other hand didn’t even notice that his girlfriend was missing because he was too busy staring at you, you had on a flowy mid length white dress with small flowers on it, hair pinned up in a half up half down style, the small diamond chain he bought you for your birthday one year when you were kids shining around your neck, and your usual summer sandals. You looked absolutely beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, which caused him to bump into several waiters and mumble a quick apology, until you had both reached the table. A note was folded up and placed on the center of the table, her signature on the front.
Dear Y/N and Rafe,
I know you both have feelings for each other. I know that you liked me Rafe (at least I like to think so), but you are in love with my best friend. It was hard to accept at first, but I understand now that it isn’t something I did or anything to do with me, but everything to do with the fact that we’re just not meant to be. I want you two to be happy together, enjoy this lunch and talk. I’ll find someone who looks at me the way he looks at you Y/N/N, someone who talks about me the same way you two talk about each other, someone who makes me the light of their world. And I only hope that one day i’ll be as lucky to find love like yours. Please know that i’m not mad, I love you both in different ways and want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy, the next time we see each other you best be official or i’m going to have to resort to other…methods…and they won’t be this nice!!
-Y/B/F
You stared down in shock before passing the note to Rafe, his eyes widening with each word before he put the paper back down on the table. You each took a seat and sat in silence for a few moments before Rafe spoke up. “She’s right you know? I got with her to try and take my mind off of you, but I always knew it was you. I’ve known since we were kids that you were the one I wanted to spend my life with” a soft smile on his face as he looked up at you, your eyes meeting his as you mirrored his expression.
“I did too, I told her to go for it. Convinced myself it was just a silly crush from knowing you so long, that it would go away. But then it never did, it just grew more and more intense when you got with her. It was torture watching you two all happy when all I wanted was for it to be me” you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head and taking a deep breath in. His hand grabbed yours, thumb gently stroking the back of your hand “Then be my girl, let’s stop wasting more time. Be my girlfriend and make me the happiest man for the first time, the second time will be because I will be marrying you sweetheart”
You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes and gently cascaded down your cheek as you nodded. Leaning over across the table to give him a kiss before pulling away, hands still laced together, and ordering a celebratory bottle of champagne. You would both talk to your best friend later, make sure this was really okay, but for now, you were going to enjoy your time together as boyfriend and girlfriend after all these years.
Tag List: @sweetestdesire @xyzstar @congratsloserr @madelynie @outerbankspov
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22ayla19 · 9 months
Text
From the author: This was a request from one user, but I lost his nickname... I'm sorry...
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Headcanons with Kayden Break
● Kayden has a very specific personality. Becoming his girlfriend seems like luck is on your side, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Knowing his ardent character, for Kayden the main thing in a partner is the opposite that could balance him, otherwise calling him violent is putting it mildly;
● The relationship with him could have started a very long time ago. You simply could have been childhood friends or simply opponents, after the battle, on the contrary, you became friends and began to further improve your abilities. It’s just that Kayden came to your house so often, slept with you, had dinner, trained with you that it became commonplace and you got used to this situation;
● Teasing, or making fun of Kayden is also allowed. No matter how much he needs the opposite of his character, he still wants excitement in a relationship. Most of the time he is the one who jokes and teases, but when you, too, are in the mood, he just burns inside from the thrill that you are insolent to him. And this usually ends with him simply dragging you to the bedroom for more adult matters;
● It will be important for Kayden to know that you can stand up for yourself, defend yourself when he is not around. Over all his years, he has made enough enemies for himself, and although the awakened world does not know about you as Kaidan’s girlfriend, there will be those who will find out the slightest information about him to use against him. It is important for Kaidan to know that you can defend yourself if something happens, he will always come to the rescue if his intervention requires it, but since you are his girlfriend, it means you must be on the same level as him;
● Being Kayden’s girlfriend means becoming an unexpected cat person and also becoming a mentor and practically the older sister of Ji Woo. Kayden in the body of a cat is an addition to your relationship, especially if you love cats and are not allergic to them. Plus a bonus in the form of your boyfriend’s kind and sweet student, who admires you so much that perhaps your and Kayden’s self-esteem has skyrocketed;
● Jealousy? Perhaps only to other cats and Ji Woo. A strange combination, of course, but it’s true. Kaidan gets jealous when you pay attention to other cats instead of him, or when you spend time with Ji Woo often, even if it's not training. At such moments, Kaiden thinks that his girlfriend was stolen by cats and his student, which in some cases is true, no matter how strange it may sound. In return, you compensate for this jealousy by spending quality time with my boyfriend;
● It’s not that Kayden doesn’t intend to marry you, it’s just that you already live as a married couple (though secretly, from the world of the awakened), so there’s simply no need to marry, and he’s unlikely to want to have a wedding, although he’ll think about buying a ring for your ring finger so other men know you're busy. There seems to be no need to talk about children. Yes, he gets along with Ji Woo, but if you give birth to a baby with abilities like Kaidan’s and his own character, it’s unlikely that the world of the awakened can stand it. They can barely tolerate Kayden alone, and then there is a daughter or son, who is his second copy, I’m afraid to imagine how the top 10 will react to such news. And Kayden himself said that he wouldn’t be very good at raising a child, so you don’t raise the topic of children. As a last resort, say that you will adopt Ji Woo.
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caramelcleopatraa · 4 months
Text
Golden Hour
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word count: 1k
x: finished this short thing in an hour at work...... nothing else to say... enjoy :)
content: You sing “Golden Hour” for Roman Reigns at his wedding. Roman x Semeni, Roman x Reader, angst
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You had been invited to sing at a wedding. You were excited. You think. You haven't gotten to sing at a wedding in a long time. Of course, this was different this time. Who’s wedding? Roman and Semeni, your longtime friends that have stuck with you since high school, despite you all pursuing different paths. A pro wrestler, a singer, and a model. Who knew you three would go on to be so successful. But that’s not the thought lingering in your mind, no, your heart as you clutch the microphone with obnoxiously sweaty hands.
It was just two lovers 
Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde
Fallin' for each other
Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish
No Donald Glover
Missed call from my mother
Like, "Where you at tonight?" Got no alibi
I was all alone with the love of my life
You stood at the front of the shiny marble dance floor, accompanied by a shiny, immense grand piano, and a string quartet. You stood farther out in front of the instruments to be seen, but not too far to the point where you were distracting. Singing Golden Hour for the newly wed as they twirled across the dancefloor, love written across their faces. You could almost smile. Almost
She's got glitter for skin
My radiant beam in the night
I don't need no light to see you
Shine
It's your golden hour (oh)
You slow down time
In your golden hour (oh)
God, that annoying, unbearable pain in your chest as you sang the song to your best ability, not showing the state you were trying to desperately betray. Why weren't you happy? Your best friend is getting married. It's not new news. Neither is the widespread burning in your chest. But you thought you had finally gotten over yourself. Countless journey entries, therapy sessions, hour phone calls to your friend Gianna, who tried her best to console you and be with you every time you called. But seeing them together, hand in hand, dancing along to your voice with their love for each other pushing and floating them across the floor. It was unendurable.
We were just two lovers
Feet up on the dash, drivin' nowhere fast
Burnin' through the summer
Radio on blast, make the moment last
She got solar power
Minutes feel like hours
She knew she was the baddest, can you even imagine
Fallin' like I did?
The string quartet sang along with you, cheering them on into their new path in life. Something you should be doing, but you're not. Closing your eyes. That's what you had resorted to doing. Closing your eyes, singing the best you could. You imagined a wonderful white and blue room, adorned with ambient lighting and clouds everywhere. Fog covered the ground, but formed around your feet as you walked through. So captivating, but free at the same time. You wore a wonderful white gown, with silver accessories that shined bright in any room. And you looked up at Roman, wearing a designer black suit, with a silver clip with etched in diamonds attached to his suit, and a blue handkerchief. 
For the love of my life
She's got glow on her face
A glorious look in her eyes
My angel of light
I was all alone with the love of my life
She's got glitter for skin
My radiant beam in the night
He took your hand as you two moved across the thick fog. No audience, no guests or family members, just you two. Sharing a special intimate moment with each other. Letting your love cloud your mind. Interfere with your judgment. Living in this beautiful moment. Your whole body tingled, feeling a gust of cold wind, dispersing your picture perfect daydream. They had glided past you like two flies in the hot summer heat. Her gigantic snow white dress brushing your toes as they smile stayed still. Well it was working until now. It's almost as if her snapping you out of your daydream made it worse. If only it was real
I don't need no light to see you
Shine
It's your golden hour (oh)
You slow down time
In your golden hour (oh)
A singular tear rode down your painted face. Staining the layers of makeup you had put on hours before the occasion. The camera man took a picture of you, probably mistaking your hot tear for a tear of joy. He couldn’t be more wrong. God, why were you here? Why did you even offer to do this for them? You should’ve known that you were going to break. It hurts. Seeing them together. In love. In a celebration and cheers to future happy memories, here you are. Questioning your placement here. Among these happy souls, as you stare holes into the side of their head. With anger? Disgust? Sadness? You didn't know. Maybe all three. Maybe none. The piano quiets and the string quartet fades. They take one longing look at eachother, and kiss. A loud explosion of head pounding applause followed. And you fakely followed suit. You wonder if you would have been more forward with him, that you would be standing in her place. All of these people would be clapping with you instead of her. If you would have told her to leave him alone, maybe they would have never gotten married. And you wouldn't be standing there, cursing yourself for being so scared. You looked at him with longing, and her with confused jealousy. As she stood there, and danced with your first love. They looked at you with unnerving happiness, their eyes and smiles thanking you for giving them such a special moment to remember. And you smiled too, wiping your tears to make things seem more dramatic. But Roman's face changed. Seeing right through your paper thin smile. And you knew he would ask you about it later.
Can they even imagine falling like you did?
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🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000
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abbysdruidess · 1 year
Text
˜”°•.˜”°• headcanons about you and abby's wedding - modern au •°”˜.•°”˜
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wc: 1.1k
warnings: wedding w modern au(obvs), crying, tooth rotting fluff, allusions to sex, no use of y/n
a/n: lmk what you guys think of this one and whether you'd like more of reader and Abby in this universe! don't hesitate to send any requests<33
this is sort of on theme with a previous fic where abby proposes to you, this one can be read as a standalone though:))
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❦ after the proposal, you guys hurrying too much to get the wedding off the road and on the rails- you're still extremely proud and giddy to call each other your fianceé, and you've sent about 100 pictures of your wedding ring to everyone.
❦ it isn't until one night where you're having dinner over at jerry's that he brings up the wedding preparations and you're like oh shit, you two kinda need to haul ass and start sending invites.
❦ you decided on a small affair, only your immediate families and close friends over. I imagine that in the insistence of your future brother in law Lev you sent out RSVP invitations that were ocean themed with cute little sharkies on the front that say in a vast ocean of people we found each other(💀). A lot of people found them pretty funny though, and Lev was pretty excited about them.
❦ on par with the beach theme of your engagement, you decided to have the wedding on a beautiful beach resort in the beginning of June-not too hot, not too cold;)-with the ceremony and the reception on the shore.
❦ of course, you couldn't leave out the bachelorette party! You and Abby travel to Vegas with your respective friend groups for a weekend of clubbing and partying in general. And lets be fr, someone from either of two groups ends up getting lost and you have to recover him Hangover style. Thank God you didn't arrange for it the day before the wedding.
❦ the days before the upcoming event are mostly a blur, both of you making last minute arrangements about the food, the flowers, the music. Your gown with the final adjustments is delivered and you have to hide it in a fridge box in the basement so Abby won't take a peek.
❦ "But baaabe, I just wanna see what it looks like! You know this stuff about bad luck isn't actually legit." "I know, but it will be more exciting to see the final look at the wedding. I promise you."
❦ finally the big day is here! And let me just say, as a very emotionally constipated person, you'd probably be a little teary eyed all day long. When you put on your gown and look at yourself in the mirror and realise that holy shit, I'm about to marry the love of my life, my Abigail, she wants to spend the rest of her life with me. And this just hits you all at once and a few tears run down your chin.
❦ if you have any wedding traditions from your culture that you'd like to honour, Abby would be 100% down for it. It makes her feel closer to you, and part of the new family she's going to be in. She also really likes listening to its origins and what it's supposed to represent. In my country, we do this thing where the wedding squad writes all their names down in the couples' shoes and by the end of the night whoever's name is the most smudged is the one who's going to get married first. Let's be real, if they did this, it'd probably Manny whose name had almost disappeared and he'd freak the fuck out.
❦ once you're ready to walk down the aisle, and you glance at Abby you let out a small ᵍᵃˢᵖ at the sight, with Abby dressed to the nines and a glowing expression on her beautiful face. Her mouth also formed a little O at the sight of you, ready to become her wife, looking so so happy and a slightly teary eyed.
❦ during the actual ceremony, you two keep stealing glances at each other, smiling kinda goofily like :]. You two are goobers fr.
❦ for the vows, I think the game establishes that Abby is a big bookworm, so she chooses something perhaps from Emily Bronte or Jane Austen. Of course this isn't the entirety of what she wrote, she just finds it more accurate to express her love for you through someone's else perfectly adept words.
❦ once the reception kicks in, you're carefully wiping tears from your eyes so you don't smudge your makeup, and take some photos with the wedding party on the beach. You're accepting everyone's congratulations for your newlywed status, and settling down to prepare for your first dance.
❦ you had decided on dancing to Por Una Gabeza, and had actually rehearsed the slow tango a couple times so your movements are synchronised. By the end of the dance, you're in each other's arms, cheek to cheek simply enjoying the moment.
❦ by the time you've finished you meal, the party is in full swing, and you join in for a few dances until you decide on a cake break and allow Yara to be Abby's dancing partner. By the way, your wedding cake? Exquisite, chocolate ice cream with strawberry.
❦ I also imagine you guys doing the whole tossing the bouquet thing and -surprise surprise!-it ends up on Manny's lap on accident. He almost leaves.
❦ by the night, you're both clinging to each other, ready to resume your lives as Mrs and Mrs, and also ready to break into the bridal bed. Seriously, you can feel Abby's fingers feeling up your thigh and she's been whispering the things she wants to do to you all night. By 2 in the morning you're home, very much exhausted by the preparations and the emotional high, but also very ready to let Abby peak what's under your bridal gown.
❦ for wedding gifts to each other? She hands you two tickets for some exotic island you guys always talked about going, and make it your honeymoon. You get her an antique vinyl record player, because she had always been going about getting something to listen music to while cooking. Needless to say you both love each other's gifts:D
❦ a week or so after the ceremony you receive the photographs, and Abby makes it her duty to hand them on every corner of the house. Seriously, at some point, you could see a photo of you two in your field of vision pretty much about everywhere.
❦ her favourite one remains in her desk, one where you two are about to leave, sweaty and drunk, the camera capturing your musky faces as you sit on her lap clinging for dear life. It's so sweet and endearing, and it reminds her why she married you in the first place.
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pininghermit · 11 months
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Just Talk to Me Already!
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Genre: a sulking Adrian and struggling reader
Summary: All it took was a friends night out, 2 shots of vodka, and fake courage of your friends with your inflated drunk ego.
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You woke up with empty arms and a spectacular view of Adrian's back – spectacular but tense. As if he hadn't just pushed himself away from your embrace the moment he felt your dream fading. But you are shameless. Unfazed by his earlier retreat, your arms circled his waist again as you drew closer. However, your attempt to settle comfortably as the big spoon was thwarted as your hands were gently pushed away, and your beloved extricated himself from the bed.
Sighing, you returned to your overheated pillow, its once-cool sides now exhausted. "Well, if this isn't the consequence of your stupid loud mouth," you groaned into your pillow.
It all began with a fateful night out with friends, two shots of vodka, and your inflated, drunken ego. Spilling the steamy details of your past steamy escapades with your ex to Adrian wasn't planned, but it happened, thanks to drunk you. A week had passed since that unfortunate incident, and Adrian was still sulking.
Normally, Adrian was impervious to your drunken antics, but this was different. It had hit a nerve, making him insecure about his own abilities and your genuine affection for him.
As the memories from that intoxicated night resurfaced amid the fog of a confusing hangover, you realized the extent of the damage. Of course, you'd apologized; you might be a wild drunk, but you were a civil person. You even tried to be cute, using the coy voice Adrian adored, but it didn't work.
Undeterred, you bought flowers, sweets, and, just for the heck of it, a dagger because your beloved had a penchant for such things. However, your care package failed to elicit even a faint smile. Instead, you found the dagger stabbed into the garden floor, a display of strength you chose to ignore for your own sanity.
Turning to a more romantic approach, you wrote a poetic letter. Adrian, known for his dramatic flair, should have appreciated it, right? Wrong. Your beautifully scripted words were obscured by grocery lists, budget planning, and reminders of yearly events...he could have used the plain blank side and no you did not pout looking at it.
Not to mention, he wouldn't even share dinner with you or rescue you from the culinary monstrosity you'd created. The desire for a simple meal prepared by Adrian had never been stronger.
In desperation you resorted to your trusted technique of annoyance. "Adrian look at me," you settled next to him, scooting whenever he tried to scoot. "Adrian look at my crooked tooth, does my finger look bent to you," you followed after him the entire day like a puppy.
Until Adrian became a damn bat and flew. Even the puppy eyes failed you.
It was only last night that he tried to slip out of your room, but you caught his wrist, stopping him. "Don't go," you said seriously. "Just sleep here. Give me a chance to make it right. So come here and lie next to me, Adrian. We can't act like a divorced couple; we aren't married, to begin with."
You pulled him back onto the bed, and he, despite his strength, let you. Wrapping your arms around him, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, ignoring the fact that his hair almost made you sneeze during this supposedly romantic moment.
"I won't say I was wrong," your words made him tense under your touch. "I've had my fill of fooling around, of being an untethered kite. It's great, but Adrian," you pulled him closer, preventing him from seeing your blush. "I don't need that with you. I don't need wild fantasies or extreme pleasures, though I can't get enough of you. Just being in the same room as you is more than satisfying."
Your hands traced patterns on his back as you thought through your words, articulating your feelings for the first time in your life. "Don't blame yourself for anything, Adrian. Don't carry that burden. I could never forgive myself if I became the reason for your sorrow. I will gladly be the crux of your resentment. Just stay by my side and let me make it up…" You spoke throughout the night until your words began to slur, and you woke up to the sight of Adrian's back.
At least he was still in the bed, which you counted as a small victory. You planned your next grand gesture to win him over, but little did you know that your antics were making a certain dhampir, you resisted to face you, smile uncontrollably.
As he heard you groan into your pillow, he promised himself to savor these moments just a bit longer, practicing his poker face in anticipation of the day filled with your endearing gestures.
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empressgeekt · 4 months
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HTTYD/Trolls - Crossover - Branch is Adopted by Gobber au
Okay, so people liked my Branch Winchester Au, so here's another one I've been stewing on for a while.
The au starts with a five year old branch running away from another horrible foster home in the newly settled pop village. he just wants to get away, be somewhere ....or more accurately the sea of HTTYD. Little Branch (now human) is left bobbing in the stormy sea, for who knows how long, eventually washing up on the shore of Berk.
At the next Dawn, young Gobber and Stoick would be walking the stony shore, just having a moment of peace between the noises of chiefing and working in the forge, and the never ending dragon raids. Stoick would be griping to Gobber about his and Valka's fertility issues, he's not mad at Valka, he's just worried that he won't get an heir before he's at the gate of Valhalla. Then they find a tiny body washed up on the rocks. The child is clearly not from berk, his hair like coal, and skin the color of tree bark. And somehow alive.
Strange appearance or not both Stoick and Gobber rush to Gothi with the child in hand. They get some odd stares from the village, but other then that they know to wait for an announcement on the discovery. Gothi sees the child right away, and after a few hours allows Stoick and Gobber (and Valka having joined them while waiting) into her healing hut to see the child. His wounds wrapped and bundled up near her fireplace. She scribbles into the dirt that she read the child, and that he was sent by a higher power to be raised as a berkian, after his own tribe and house wronged him greatly. Valka is immediately pissed off (stoick's in love), after all the child couldn't be more then five, what tribe and family could've possible done away with a child so young. Not to mention the fact that she and stoick had been struggling to conceive, only made the whole situation worse. Seeing his wife's distress Stoick immediately begins planning to take the boy in, but Gothi stops him, saying that while the boy was sent to be raised by them, he wasn't to be Stoick's child. When asked who the child belongs too, Gothi points to Gobber.
Gobber freaks out and says he can't handle a kid. He never got married for two reasons, and he only tells people one of them, and that was because of how much drama and worry a family can have. But still he's no match for the combine wrath of Gothi and Valka, and reluctantly, takes the child back to his hut to recover. Stoick stops by that night, with some mild mead, and let's Gobber vent. He does not understand why the gods would send him a kid, Gobber hadn't had a family since he's parents died when he was a teenager, and they never had any children other then him, so Gobber was the last of his house and he was fine with that. He had his job, he had his friends, he was fine. Stoick tries to be comforting, saying the gods must have a reason, and maybe he'd like the kid. That maybe the kid was always meant to be his, but since Gobber never married they had to get creative to get his son to him. Gobber is not comforted.
Branch wakes up three days later and he is terrified. The man he's staying with has a hook for a hand, peg for a leg, and the longest mustache that he'd ever seen. He spends the day hidden underneath his covers, wanting nothing more then to wake up in the warm forests of his home.
Gobber is at a loss of what to do with the obvious terrified child in his hut. What was Gothi thinking, he couldn't handle this. Eventually he resorts to luring Branch out with food, and manages to get the kid to talk over a bowl of stew, cause while Gobber is a great smith he is also a fantastic cook. The child's name is Branch which, given the color of his skin and the green tunic he was where Gobber finds very ironic.
It's awkward those first few weeks, Gobber is basically trying to figure out how to take care of a kid. Feeding, and making sure he's getting to Gothi on time for healing checks are things he can handing. Branch overall is a much calmer wee one then most of the children in berk, definitely a thinker (not that Gobber minds they need more thinkers on berk), but it still feels like there's a wall between them.
Branch is very confused, about everything. Gobber is nice, he doesn't make Branch feel like something is wrong with him. Gothi is weird, and she's weird about wanting to see his tongue, but she's gentle. His new Aunt Valka is very nice, but her husband is big and scary (much to stoick's dismay). It takes a little while but eventually, he gets comfortable enough to ask questions, and heals enough to leave the hut. The first day that Gobber takes him to the forge, Branch is immediately fascinated by metal work, much to Gobber's joy. The wall between them began to crack, as Branch paid close attention to everything Gobber said regarding to smithing. Eventually, Branch asks why they makes so many weapons. All Gobber said is to protect themselves. From what? Well Branch got his answer after an early winter hit berk.
One Night Branch would awaken to screams and the smell of smoke. Gobber is ready to run out to the forge to do his job during the raid, only this time he has a child to think about. He has no choice but to drag the child with him through the chaos and snuff him in the forge while the smith got to work. Branch is constantly asking what's happening, and all he gets in answer is two words "Dragon raid". At some point in the night, Gobber asks Branch to grab something for him, and needed to do something other then quietly stew in panic, Branch quickly becomes Gobber's fetch boy, and was put in charge of keeping the coals warm. The raid last until sunrise, and by the end of it, he just clings to Gobber's too exhausted to be scared. Gobber carries the child home to sleep, any wall between them now broken.
For the next year, Branch would continue to help Gobber around the forge, while at the same time learning to read, and once the boy had written Norse down, Branch ate up any book put in front of him. Gobber carrying him home every night after the boy would fall asleep while studying in the forge. Sometime in Feberary, his Uncle Stoick and Aunt Valka have a baby, and once deemed safe, Gobber and Branch are the first to seeing little Hiccup, and upon seeing the little loaf of fur and baby, Branch was sold, nothing would happen to this kid. Not on his watch. Gobber even lets Branch help forge the baby sized axe that Stoick requested for his son.
Then came one of the worst nights in Branch's life. The raid had been normal at first, Branch helping out in the forge like he had been taught. Until someone screamed about the Chief's hut being destoryed. Not thinking anything but that little Hiccup was in danger, Branch runs out of the forge towards the now burning out...only to see his Aunt Valka being carried off by a stormcutter. For a moment, it's not Aunt Valka, and it's not a dragon, it's Grandma and the bergen. Branch runs back to his hut with Gobber and begins to sob into his bed. Gobber would find him there curled up underneath the blankets, just sad and scared. Some how Gobber gets his boy to open up about his grandmother and Gobber does interperate it like Grandma was carried off by a dragon and not a bergen, but the message was the same even if the details were a little fuzzy. Gobber comforts Branch saying that he'll protect the child, always. This is the night that Branch starts calling Gobber Dad.
Stoick falls off the deep end right after Valka was taken, he goes on crazy month long blind searches for her, and Gobber goes with him to stop Stoick from doing anything more stupid. At some point Gobber has enough and starts to try and talk some sense into stoick, afterall they both have lads at home, and Stoick is missing his son's infant years. It hurts, but Stoick knows that Gobber is right, all that's left of Valka is Hiccup, Stoick needs to protect him now, and he couldn't keep Gobber away from his own son too.
While his father and uncle were away, Branch was put into the care of Gothi, Hiccup was sent to say with his aunt (Valka's sister and soon to be Snotlout's mom), but Gobber and Branch were the last of their house so Gothi was the next best thing. During those months, Branch tries not to be a bother, Gothi is pleased to have a set of hands nearby so willing to help, and like with smithing Branch would pick up on healing rather quickly. He even helps her with patients once's he capable enough.
Eventually though, the searches stop and Gobber comes home for good.
Years seemed to fly by after that, Hiccup grows scrawny, and is quickly made a target by his peers for bullying. Though, the Forge becomes a safe place, Branch has six years on the other kids, and they knew they can't mess with him. The smith's son does not tolerate bullying or teasing when he's working, especially when it comes to Hiccup. He can't hate the other kids though, after all their still kids being kids. One of them he even feels bad for, little Fishlegs clearly didn't want to pick on Hiccup but also didn't want to be bullied either. Branch will throw hands if it gets physical, however.
Though there's one kid that Branch has a special hatred for. Dagur. The berserker heir, is not someone that Branch initially gets along with, especially after a swimming trip that almost ended in Dagur drowning Hiccup. A bitterness between the two only grow from there, and it bring out this cruel protective streak that Branch didn't know he had. Something is wrong with Dagur, and Branch isn't sure what, but it makes the heir dangerous. And unlike the other kids, Branch doesn't intimidate Dagur because their closer in age, and Dagur did always have more muscle.
By the time the movie rolls around, Branch is a smith in his own right at the age of 20. He and Gobber work in the together, with Hiccup joining them after picking up and interest in inventing. A hobby that Branch also enjoys, together they come up with all sorts of gadgets though Stoick almost never lets them test them. Gobber's proud of his boy, though now Branch is his own man. His son is strong, smart and rather good looking, the few suitors Branch has on Berk look at him with a decent level of desire. Sure, Branch wasn't the usual beefcake of a viking, but his figure was lean and strong, the darker hue of his skin also gave him an air of mystery. However, Branch made it very clear he wasn't interested in any of them.
In the meeting hall,
"Trolls exist! They steal your sock but only your left one what's with that?"
"Dad, trolls don't steal socks, and you only have left socks. They keep vanishing when I do the laundry."
"Because trolls keep stealing 'em!"
*sigh*
Branch is the first one to meet Toothless after Hiccup shot him down. When Hiccup is sneaking through the forge after he and toothless got tied together. Branch spots them and follows them back to the cove. There Hiccup explains and begs Branch not to tell his dad, and Branch says he won't as long as Toothless won't eat Hiccup. He helps the younger boy and dragon get unstuck, before marveling at the rigging that Hiccup made for Toothless. Branch wants in, mostly because it could mean finding a better way to keep the people in the village safe. Together the boys, learn more about dragons by studying Toothless, theories and findings Hiccup tests in the training ring.
After the disaster of a final test, Branch tries to follow Hiccup and Stoick and ends up witnessing their fight, and Stoick disowning Hiccup. This cuts deep and Branch looses all respect for the chief. He says goodbye to Hiccup before they leave, saying they'll always be brothers. Branch goes with the others to raid the nest, only to keep his father safe however, the rest of the village Chief included can go burn for all he cared.
Sadly this does mean that Branch is out of the dragon riding part of the battle, but I do plan on giving him a dragon at some point. Not sure which kind though, I'm thinking maybe a sand wraith, or dramillion, or maybe just say screw it and partner him up with Light Fury. I think they could make a fun duo, loner grouch with a very snooty over grown cat, who very protective.
---
It's late I'm going to split this up.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year
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timeless - j. kiszka
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a/n: this one is super long and holy shit i'm pretty proud of it :) my other song choice for this was wii sports resort theme song. warnings: cursing, past infidelity, some angst, stupid choices, allusions to sex, lots of wedding talk, readers family all being chill, reader being feminine (no real descriptions though) but they wear a wedding dress and are 'mrs', uh, petnames, josh being flirty. my qualifications for writing this is that my dad got married on a cruise but it will be inaccurate, whoops. word count: 10.2k words summary: you decide to be kind after being cheated on. it spirals out of control, thanks to josh kiszka. pairing: josh kiszka x reader now playing: timeless (taylor's version) (from the vault) - taylor swift "and sometimes there's no proof, you just know/you're always gonna be mine/we're gonna be/i'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray"
You book the cruise about six months before you break up with him.
Your whole family is going, you tell him, and it’ll be about five years since you got together when you go, it’ll be romantic!
When he proposes to you two months later, you decide to get married on the cruise. You’ll have the ceremony with your closest family, and then friends will be able to celebrate with you two when you get back, you’ll throw parties!
You catch him cheating on you about six months before you leave for the cruise.
At that point, you had already reached out to plan the wedding with the cruise line, you have your wedding outfit, you won’t be getting your deposit back. He will not be going, he says, because what sadist would go with your ex-fiancé’s family to the Bahamas for two weeks after they find out about your infidelity?
Your sister convinces you to go, telling you that your parents can renew their vows and you don’t even have to go.
You can get over the last of your feelings towards your ex while sipping a pina colada on a beach somewhere.
And this, dear reader, is the story of how you meet your husband on that cruise.
• • •
Day One:
Okay, so you don’t mean for him to be your husband, really. It goes something like this:
Your sister picks you up and you climb into this car with your parents, your sister, your nephew and your brother and his wife.
As your brother and his wife canoodle, still in their honeymoon phase, you make sure your nephew doesn’t spill his juice, and you ask yourself, is this it? Are you meant to have random sex and live a life of freedom yet loneliness and eventually leave everything to your nephew when you croak?
Maybe it isn’t that dramatic, but you still feel shitty!
 You’re waiting at the port, sitting by the help service desk as you wait to board the ship. You’re entirely too occupied trying to fend off thoughts of your ex, yet you hear something that just catches your ears just right.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kiszka, I can offer you a voucher for your next trip with us, but unless a stranger here offers you their ticket, I’m afraid you’re not going on this cruise. We’re all booked up.”
The man the employee is talking to looks like he just came from a trip to the Bahamas, with this wild curly hair and sandals on. He has these, almost goofy, sunglasses on. He stands with a few other people, one who looks just like him with straight hair.
His body language seems angry, but he’s handsome. And you feel it.
You feel an attraction that you haven’t felt since your ex.
And then you remember your ex, and the ticket in your bag that was abandoned by him, and you realize that someone can give this man their ticket.
You realize you can help this angry, handsome man.
You glance at your sister.
“I’m going to do something sort of crazy, and I need you to support me no matter what. Can you do that?” She smiles.
“Always and forever.”
You get up and grab the ticket from your bag, heading over to the counter where the man stands with the employee.
“And I’m telling you,” The man says, and you almost swoon at the stranger’s voice, “These are my credit card bills! My payment for this trip is right here, there has to be something you can do—”
“Excuse me?” Heads turn towards you, and the employee sighs.
“I’ll be with you in just a few minutes—”
“Oh, no, I—” You sigh, and hand the employee your ex-fiancé’s ticket. “This guest won’t be joining us on the trip, and since I paid for his trip, I’d like to give his ticket to the gentleman here.”
Translation: This guest was a lying piece of shit who broke my heart and was supposed to marry me on this trip, and since I footed the damn bill for aforementioned piece of shit, I’d like for the handsome stranger here to stay in my room.
The stranger looks at you like you just saved his life. Your heart swells.
You all look back to the employee, who looks exhausted.
“We can do that,” They scan the ticket, and start reading your ex-finance’s information. “Okay, so, Joshua Kiszka is going to be the name on the room and the ticket,” she starts, “He’ll have to stay in your room, is that okay?” They glance at you. You turn to Joshua.
“Are you an axe murderer or a creep?”
“Not that I know of.” He answers. You smile.
“That’s totally okay.”
“Alright,” The employee glances at their computer again, typing some stuff. “So, there’s two other things. Number one, there’s the romantic dinner for two this Saturday. Is he going to that?”
“Yes,” You answer, not thinking about it. You smile at the stranger, and he smiles back.
“And the wedding.” The stranger’s smile drops. Yeah, that was understandable.
Your hand lands on his arm, and you become vulnerable.
“Just, go with it for a while, okay? We’re not getting married on this trip, I promise.” You smile, and this seems to reassure Joshua, who turns back to the employee.
“We’re a couple of soon to be newlyweds, baby.” He smirked.
The Employee seems less sure. But they scan the ticket and type a few more things into their computer before handing the ticket to Josh.
“All set. I’d recommend boarding together to get your keycards and everything sorted out. Please step to the side so I can help the next guests.”
You oblige, and suddenly it hits you. You’re a stranger standing in front of a family after you just saved their vacation. You just invited a stranger to stay with you. Joshua looks at you.
“Well, that was a crazy way to ask me on a date.” He tells you, and you laugh.
“Did it work?”
“Absolutely, this vacation would’ve been ruined without you!” He grinned. “I’m Josh.”
You give him your name, and you can just see the relief on his face. He introduces you to his family, and you meet his brothers, Jake, Sam, and Danny, as well as his sister and parents. They’re all lovely.  They begin to call boarding numbers, and Josh takes his backpack from his twin.
“I’m gonna go with them to figure this whole thing out, we’ll meet for lunch later?” They all agree, and Jake mentions how nice it was to meet you, and you head back to your family to board.
Your family looks extremely confused.
“Everyone, this is Josh—There was a problem with his ticket, and I figured since we had an extra, we can hangout with Josh for the trip.” Your sister laughs, and your nephew copies her giggles.
“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything wild together, I’m just so grateful that I’m actually going on this trip.” He said honestly. Then he turns to you. “So, what’s this about a wedding?” You laugh, and link your arm with his, a bit of a bold move on your part, but you’re feeling bold. For the first time in months, you want someone, and it’s making you feel bold.
Mostly, for the boarding process, you stand in pairs. You and Josh, your parents, your brother and sister-in-law, and your sister and nephew. You’re waiting in line when you start to explain.
“So, the wedding was originally supposed to be mine, yes. But, the groom turned out to be, uh..” You try to put it nicely, “Not the one.” Is the best thing you settle on, “So we’re going to use it as a way to have my parents renew their vows, or something.” You explain. Josh nods,
“But you realize that we’ll be regarded as the happy couple the entire time we’re on board, right?” You laugh at this idea of this dude you barely know being in love with you and marrying you.
“Josh, you don’t strike me as the type to shy away from the spotlight.” It’s just something about him that gives you the impression that when he walks into the room, he is the center of everyone’s attention. But he just laughs, almost a tad shy.
“Fine, then I’m making up a wild story about our meeting.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, you remember it, right? When you invited me to be a guest at a wedding for a man you were in love with but fell in love with me through out the night?”
“Why does it always have to be about weddings with you, Josh?”
“You know me, I’m a romantic.” You roll your eyes at this, and you hand your boarding passes to the person at the podium, who scans them, and then glances to you.
“Enjoy your stay on the Princess of the Ocean!” The ship name almost makes you laugh, “And congratulations to you both! We hope your wedding and honeymoon is all you want and more!” You realize they must have your name on file, or something comes up when they scan your passes.
You don’t get a chance to respond, because Josh’s arm is around your waist, and he says,
“Everyone’s been lovely so far, thank you. We’re having a great time already, right, Doll?” Your face flushes.
“It’s a dream, honey.” You respond and kiss his cheek. The employee wishes you a great trip, and you head off to the ship.
“I guess we’re going to have to get used to that, huh?” You don’t move from his arm around you.
“I guess so, honey.” You tell him.
You make your way onto the ship, wondering if this could be different. When you get to your cabin, it’s decorated with wedding stuff, and it makes you and Josh both laugh with red faces. On the bed, are towels in the shape of swans, who make a heart with their necks.
Josh tells you they look just like the two of you, and you can’t help but get this feeling that it’ll be impossible to stay away from him while on this ship, no matter how big it is.
• • •
Day Three:
But then you don’t see much of Josh for the second day of your cruise, finding your day full of drinking and running around with your nephew, who you can’t help but indulge in all the kid stuff. You take him on the slides, in the pools, to bumper cars. You get him a Shirley Temple when he gives you puppy dog eyes.
But during your second day at sea, you sort of want to see Josh. He’s out of the room before you even wake up, even though he got back to the cabin after you went to sleep last night. You miss your fake husband.
So, when you see him by a bar around noon, you approach him.
“You look familiar,” you start, “Do I know you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face. He laughs.
“Could be, we’re getting married next week.” You giggle and ask the bartender for a tropical, fruity, alcoholic drink. Josh asks him to make it two. “I want to say thank you again, for letting me take your douchebags ticket.” You smile at his hatred towards an ex he’s never met.
“Don’t worry about it. Why’d you decide to come on this cruise in the first place?” You ask curiously.
“Well, we got back from tour about a month ago, and we knew we’d be wanting to take a vacation that doesn’t involve preforming anywhere.” This leaves you with more questions then answers, and he sees it on your face, “We play in a band, my brothers and I. We scheduled a tour for this year and wanted to reward ourselves with some relaxation.” Huh. “How about you?”
“Well, my parents wanted me to go with them to celebrate their retirement. Then, it was to get married because that worked out so well.” You know you sound bitter about it. It’s because you are.
“Well, I like your new husband more anyways.” He tells you. It makes you laugh.
“We’re are you from?”
“Michigan, originally. I live in Nashville, now.”
“For music purposes, right?”
“Right.” He takes a sip of his drink, “And you?”
“Atlanta, Georgia.” You told him. “But I don’t know, that cities way too small when you have someone living there that you thought you’d marry.” You confess. “What type of music do you play?”
“Oh, we’ll play anything, but we’re known for our rock and roll.” He smiles.
“Well, what do you like to play?”
“I really love all of it, but my true passion is film. I sing. I’m partial to singing jazz.” He explains.
“Huh..”
“And what about you? What do you do for work?”
“Nothing as cool as singing for a rock and roll band.” You admit. “I’m a teacher. I’ve taught a lot of groups, but my favorite is high schoolers, honestly. I teach English.”
“Oh, an Academic?” You laugh.
“Shut up, film boy.” He fakes a hurt gasp, placing his hand on his chest.
“I’m hurt, Doll. I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore.”
“That’s a shame. We already put the deposit down, I’m not getting my money back.” He laughs with you this time.
You talk a while more, and before you know it, your stomach is rumbling for lunch. He walks you to the popular lunch spot on board and decides to join you for lunch.
You both wind up taking bites from each other’s plates.
“Do you like grapefruit, Doll?”
“God no, I was sick once, so my mom gave me one, supposed to be very good for you,” You pause, “I threw up while eating it and haven’t eaten a grapefruit since.”
“Aw, that’s a shame, it wasn’t the grapefruit’s fault!”
“Yeah, but now I associate the grapefruit with throwing up.” You told him.
“I’m sure the grapefruit longs for your forgiveness, Doll.”
“Shut up, Honey.”
• • •
Day Five:
You wind up spending all of day three with Josh, but you don’t see him much on day four—It’s your first day at the beach you’re docked at, so you both want to spend it with your family.
You learned a lot about him on day three—His favorite foods, his favorite movies, music, stories of him and his brothers on tour, growing up. He learns that you went to school in Florida before moving to Georgia, and that you have a scar on your stomach from getting your appendix removed when you were nine.
Learning about each other makes you yearn for him.
The fifth day, though, he’s still in the room when you get up. He grins at you when you wake up, coming out of the bathroom amid brushing his teeth. His hair is wet from a shower, and you sit up, deciding you desperately need a shower.
“Morning, Pumpkin.” He grins as you grab clothes for the day from your bag.
“Morning, sunshine.” You grumble.
“Do you want to go to the beach with me today?” He asks.
You grin and nod, “Sure. Sounds cool. Just let me shower.”
When you finally head off the ship to the beach, Josh has decided he needs to hold your hand. It’s a requirement, he decides.
“We’re betrothed, after all!” He defends.
It makes you laugh, but you’re happy to hold his hand. The sun beats down on you, but there’s this warmth that feels good. You’re unsure if it’s from the sun or from Josh, but you don’t ask. You just walk with him.  
There’s something that’s just easier with Josh around, something that requires no thinking. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you love being around him.
You pass this private beach that you must pay to get into. Josh, in his infinite wisdom, decides the two of you can have fun with this.
“Do you trust me?” He asks, as he takes your hand and drags you off to a shop with a sign that says, ‘locally made jewelry’ in it’s window.
You’re suspicious, but you would follow him to the end of the earth.
“Absolutely not.” You respond, but make no effort to stop him from walking you to the store. He looks around for a second before pulling you over to the ring section.
“Pick out something nice, we might as well milk the whole marriage thing.” You wind up choosing a delicate looking ring that has gold flower decals and a small black diamond in the middle, which you’re pretty sure isn’t real.
You ask the employee to try it on, and it fits like a glove.
Josh can’t take his eyes off you with this ring he’s about to buy for you.
“We’ll take it.” He says to the employee, handing him his card before you can object, and you look to him.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“We’re getting married, of course I did.” He jokes, but then he becomes more serious for a moment. “Plus, I told you, I owe you a million times because I wouldn’t be here without you.” He says softly.
You lean forward and kiss his cheek.
“It was my pleasure.” You say softly. The employee is done ringing you up, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
“I just want to say how happy I am for you two. You’re a beautiful couple.” He hands you the ring and you slip it onto your ring finger.
“Thank you.” You tell him, smiling, and admiring your new engagement ring. Josh wishes him a good day and takes your hand to head back to the beach, where the person letting people in stops you and Josh, telling you the cost to get into the beach. Josh goes for his wallet before smoothly throwing in,
“Thanks for this, it’s such a nice place to spend our time before the wedding. One last quiet moment before the chaos leading up to it.”
“Oh, when are you getting married?” She asks.
“Next Thursday.” You smile. “We’re getting married on the cruise ship over there.” You point, and she shakes her head.
“Don’t worry about the admission fee, I remember how chaotic it was to get married in a familiar place, let alone on a boat.” She chuckles softly and lets you pass.
“Thank you so much!” You say gratefully, never letting go of Josh’s hand. He smiles to you.
“You’re a natural.” He says, as soon as you’re far away from the employee.
“Are you kidding? I’m literally shaking, I keep thinking someone’s gonna call our bluff on the whole wedding thing! I don’t know how you’re managing it.” You tell him honestly.
“I think you’re doing great.” He tells you. “Besides, we’re technically not lying! You were supposed to get married next Thursday on the ship, it just wasn’t supposed to be with me and it’s now for your parents.” He reminds. This is true, you suppose. Plus, with Josh, it’s so easy for you to lie and say he’s in love with you or that he’s the love of your life.
The beach is beautiful—It’s clean and quiet, and you both lay in beach chairs that have been laid out for two.
You’re just laying there for a while, but eventually you turn your head to admire him for a while. He wears a short-sleeved button up, that’s this light blue color. It’s opened, exposing his torso. He has on swim trunks too, and his sandals are discarded on the sand. He also wears this pretty necklace that matches his sunglasses.
“I can feel you looking at me.” He says softly, not turning his hand. Your face flushes and you turn your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin.
“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous.” You confess. He smiles.
“Doll, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on me.”
“You’re the one that bought me a ring, Honey.”
“Touche.” Your conversation is cut short when someone approaches you with two pina coladas from the bar. On the house for the happy couple, he says.
After a quick conversation with him, you find out he runs this tropical paradise, and that he’s celebrating twenty years with the woman who waived your admission fee. They got married on this very beach; he tells you. You thank him profusely and when he leaves, you and Josh raise your glasses to each other in celebration for your faux marriage.
“Bajabule.” He hums, taking a sip of his drink.
You think you can get used to being engaged to Josh Kiszka.
• • •
Day Seven:
For those of us in the crowd who have never been on a cruise, there’s always a day on board where you have to dress fancy and nice, and the captain makes this speech, it’s called the captain’s dinner.
When you got engaged to your fiancé, you decided that on this captain’s dinner night, you would book a private, romantic dinner to have a moment of peace before the wedding.
And, like everything else regarding your ex and the wedding, it was nonrefundable, and you were planning on either doing it on your own or giving it to someone else who could enjoy it.
Then, you met Josh. And you had a reason to go.
So, you ask Josh that morning to come with you to this dinner before you leave for breakfast.
“Like a date?” He asks. You smile. Except for swimming and showering, you haven’t taken off your ring.
“Exactly like a date. Be my date tonight, Honey.”
He puts his hand on your cheek.
“Anything for you, Doll.”
So, you spend the whole day excited for your date. You have breakfast with your parents, and then spend the afternoon with your sister and brother, while your sister-in-law takes your nephew and parents to the beach.
You tell them about Josh, and they share this look, you’re not sure what it means, you’re too busy admiring your ring and gushing about how funny and handsome he is.
Your sister sits on your bed, all dressed with her son on her lap as you get ready. You’re nervous and you’re not sure why. Josh gets ready with his brothers.
“You look great,” Your sister assures.
“I just don’t know why I’m so nervous!”
“Maybe because this is your first first date in six years?” That could be it.
“But it’s not with just any random guy, it’s Josh. He’s so casual and cool about everything.”
“Is that supposed to make you feel better?” You see her point.
You sigh and take one last look in the mirror, before slipping on your ring. You turn to your sister.
“How do I look?” Your hair and makeup is nice, and your outfit looks really good on you.
“You look amazing. If he doesn’t like the way you look tonight, he’s not worth it.” You want him to be worth it. You want it desperately; in a way you never knew you could want.
“Thanks.” You smile, nervously. You hear a knock on the door and open it to see him standing there. He wears a white button up with the top two buttons undone, as well as black pants. He’s so good looking it almost kills you.
“Hi.” He grins. “You look amazing.”
“You look amazing.” You respond. You lean forward and kiss his cheek, and he peeks into the room to see your sister and nephew. He greets them and smiles, before taking your hand in his.
“Ready to go?” You nod and tell your sister to give everyone at dinner your love before you head out for your date. Dinner is at this candlelit restaurant, where you and Josh sit at a private table behind this beaded curtain.
“This place is so nice..” You tell him. “I don’t know If I’ve ever been on a first date this fancy.” You confess. He smiles.
“Me neither. It’s beautiful here.” He takes your hand that rests on the table. Your waitress comes in with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, introducing herself as Anna, and telling you about the menu for tonight.
“The chef has chosen five courses for our patrons tonight. It isn’t the same as last night’s dishes nor will it be the same as tomorrow’s. It’s preselected, so if there’s any allergies, just let me know. Now, I understand that we’re celebrating a special occasion tonight.” She hums as she pours the two of you champagne.
You look to Josh and wait for him to make up some story about wanting peace and quiet before you get married. Instead, he looks to Anna and says,
“First date. I think this one might just stick, too.”
“First date on a cruise ship? My, what a fairytale.” She smiles. “Well, we hope to give you a night to remember and a start to something wonderful.” She tells you both. “I’ll be back with your first course, soon. Enjoy the champagne, my friends.” She leaves, and you look to Josh.
“Why didn’t you tell her we’re supposed to be engaged?”
“I don’t think she’s the type to tell on us. Besides, this is real. I meant what I said, I want you to stick around...”
“I want you to stick around too.” You confess. You make conversation, getting to know each other through dinner. It’s all delicious, really. Over dessert, you decide that you can’t take it anymore. “I’m having a great time.”
“Me too.”
“I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to go on this date with me.” You confess.
“I would hope not.” He smiled.
“No, Josh, I’m being serious. It has shocked me to my core, but I’m finding myself wanting you more and more.” You tell him, your eyes meet his. “I think one of the best decisions I ever made was giving you that ticket.”
He says your name softly, and when he’s not saying anything like this back to you, you feel tears in your eyes. Is it possible that this man you’ve found yourself falling for has been playing pretend the whole time, the way you were meant to be as well?
“I’m sorry...” You say shakily. “I thought that... That maybe you’d feel the same way about me, but I was- “He squeezes your hand softly.
“Stop. I do want you… I want you so badly it’s destroying me to not have you.” He tells you. Your face flushes. “I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you, and I’ve been thanking whatever force that exists in the universe for meeting you.” He confesses.
Before you can respond, Anna comes back, asking if you want anything else, more champagne, perhaps?
“Can you have someone send it to our room in about two hours?” Josh asks. Anna, who must get that request often, thinks nothing of it.
“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your night, young lovers.” She leaves, and Josh leaves her a generous cash tip, before standing up and grabbing your hand again.
“Come on.” He tells you, and you follow him, curious as to what he has planned. There’s something in his eyes, a spark he gets when he has an idea. You follow him out of the restaurant, your hand locked into his, as you lean your head on his shoulder. He walks with you, all the way up to the top deck of the ship, where it’s quiet and the stars are plentiful. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him. But Josh leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you haven’t felt in years.
Your hands land on his jaw, as you deepen the kiss slightly, the night air and the passion you feel sends a shiver down your spine, only amplified by Josh’s hands on your hips.
He pulls away for a moment, looking to you.
“Let me take you back to our room.” He says softly.
“To do what?” You ask in a teasing voice. He groans and kisses you again before pulling away to add,
“So, I can make you feel good, Doll. So, I can watch you in pleasure underneath me.” He tells you. His voice is low, and there’s a lust you haven’t heard before.
“Okay.” You tell him.
“Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, Josh, please take me back to the room and fuck me.”
“As you wish, Doll.”
And he does exactly that.
• • •
Day Eight:
Your entire body aches when you wake up, tangled in sheets and in Josh’s arms. You feel amazing. Your eyes flutter open to see him admiring you, and you bury your face in the pillow as you groan. He laughs, his hand gently tracing patterns into your shoulder blade.
“Good morning, Pumpkin.” He says gently, kissing your ear.
“Good morning, Sunshine.” You tell him, before finally picking your head up to look at him. “Josh, I think you’re something equivalent to a sex god.” You say honestly. He laughs.
“Thank you, Baby.” He hums. “Wanna order room service?” He asks.
“Nah... I want you to do that thing you did last night, the one that made me scream.” You reply, and he has this smirk on his lips that makes you want him desperately.
“As you wish.”
You don’t get out of bed until lunch time, and even then, he joins you in the shower.
• • •
Day Nine:
Jake has to beg his brother to come up for air and ask you to join them for drinks that night. He’s worried, maybe that you’ll be scared off by the three of them, or maybe you’ll realize you don’t like him as much.
But you’re thrilled to get to know them, and you head down to the bar around six for drinks and dancing.
“Hey guys!” Sam calls over to you when he sees you. Josh still seems nervous, and you don’t really understand it. You both like each other more than you can put into words, so why is he so nervous for you to meet the three men he calls brothers?
Well, because his brothers are assholes.
You slid into the booth next to Jake, and you go to engage him in conversation. Instead, Sammy loudly calls over to the bartender. “Hey! My brothers getting married next week, how about some shots?”
Josh looks like he might die.
“I am so sorry about him—” You laugh, leaning against him as you try to contain your laughs.
“No, No, it’s funny, I’m glad you told them about it.” You turn back to the boys. “How are you guys enjoying the cruise so far?”
“It’s been great!” Danny yells over the music. “The beaches are so nice!”
“Did Josh tell you about the private beach we found?’
“Yeah! He also told me about the two of you conning your way into free drinks and shit!”
“It’s technically not a lie! I was supposed to be married on Thursday, just not to Josh.” You explain, and Sam laughs.
“You know, Josh has been doing nothing but talk about you, but you’re much funnier than he mentioned.” He hums. You glance over to Josh, who just blushes and rolls his eyes.
“You talked about me? What sort of things does he talk about?”
“Let’s not embarrass him, guys.” Jake says a smirk on his face.
“Thank you, Jake—”
“His new beau doesn’t need to know that he’s constantly gushing about ‘em!” The boys all break out in laughter, and you can’t help but giggle a bit. Josh is overly embarrassed.
“Douchebags! All of you are assholes!” He laughed, not really mad at them. He’s just enamored with you, and despite sleeping with you and telling you as much, it’s still a little bit embarrassing. Not that he’s embarrassed of you, but he finds himself falling for you more and more as the days go by. It’s hard to verbalize.
“Aw, Joshy, they’re just having fun, honey.” You hum. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, a habit you’re finding yourself getting more and more used to.
Shots land in front of the five of you, and Sam holds his up.
“To the happy couple!” You all drink your shots, and you think something crazy.
You think maybe you could get used to doing this. Being a part of their group. Being close to him, to them.
Maybe you could do this for the rest of your life.
You blame it on the alcohol, this feeling that this could last forever.
But when you look at Josh, you’re just enamored by him, in a way that’s deeper than just being a fan or just a crush.
And it crosses your mind for a second.
This crazy idea.
You kiss Josh quick, forgetting about the idea, blaming it on the alcohol again.
• • •
Day Ten:
You wake up with this wicked hangover, and to your disdain, Josh is nowhere to be found. You decide to get dressed and grab breakfast, figuring he’ll either text you or find you when he wants to see you.
But every few moments you’re turning as if you want to say something to him.
It’s frustrating because you know how crazy it is that you like him so much.
And it’s scary because you haven’t felt this way in a long time, maybe even a year or two, because with Josh, you realize how much you weren’t in love with your ex-fiancé, and it’s wild because you thought you’d marry him.
But it’s different with Josh, Better, most definitely. That thought from last night comes back, and you can’t blame it on the liquor anymore, and you can’t blame it on Josh looking amazing in bar lighting, and you can’t blame it on how connected you feel to his brothers because they aren’t around.
Your hand drifts to your ring finger, and you play with your ring, thinking about Josh. You wonder what will happen when you get off this ship. You wonder how it would be taking weekly trips to Nashville, especially when the school year starts and you’re busy with grading and lesson plans.
It all seems totally ridiculous. Why bother then?
But you keep coming back to it. This crazy idea, like an itch you just can’t scratch. You want to verbalize it, you want to ask it of Josh, but you realize how damn wild it is.
Maybe he’ll like that.
You’re lost in your thoughts when you feel a hand on the small of your back. You grin.
“You know, Honey, I—” When you turn around, you don’t find Josh. You find some random asshole who is already drunk, because, when in Rome. “Get the fuck off me, Dude.” You move away from him.
“What’s the matter? You seemed into it before—”
“I thought you were someone else.”
“Oh, you got a little boyfriend?”
“Fiancé, actually.”  Like magic, Josh appears behind the stranger. He looks angry. He looks jealous. He looks hot. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, tilting his head. He moves to you and wraps his arm around your waist.
“No problem, man.” The creepy dude backs off, walking off. Josh looks to you and cups his hand to your cheek.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” You say softly, “I’m okay...” You bite your tongue, before adding, “That was sort of hot—”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, not that asshole, you! Being protective of me like that… I’m not used to it.”
“Oh… Well—”
“And you were jealous. So hot.”
“I was not jealous!”
“Honey, you most totally were! It was so so attractive.”
“Why?” He seems genuine.
“Because... C’mon, I have to tell you a story, but we gotta go sit down so I can tell it.” You sigh. You wind up leaving the restaurant and sitting on a beach chair on the top deck. He keeps his hand on your thigh as you relax. Your heart is beating rapidly, and you’re not sure why you’re so anxious, but Josh seems to sense this.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I just hate this story…” You take a deep breath before you begin. “I was with my ex for about five years. He asked me to marry him after we booked this cruise, and I don’t know why I said yes… Maybe I loved him, but I wasn’t… In love with him like everyone describes I should be... But he never did anything romantic for me, no flowers, no sexy things, certainly no jealousy… So, I’m not sure why the cheating on me destroyed me so much, but it did. I haven’t felt anything for anyone since then. Until you.” You told him, and he just has this focused look on his face.
“He sounds horrible.” You laugh, tears falling from your face that you didn’t even realize you had. He wipes them tenderly.
“Yeah...” You say softly, leaning into his touch.
“Wanna hear my sob story now?”
“Sure, Honey.”
“I’m falling in love with someone who I met last week and might never see again after Saturday.”
“Josh...”
“We don’t have to ruin anything with commitment, we don’t…” His breath is shaky, and you catch tears running down his face, too. “I just need you to know that I’m falling in love with you, and I have no intentions of staying away from you or stopping that process.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to. Never.” You tell him earnestly. “I’m falling in love with you too.” You wipe his tears. Even crying, your boy is beautiful.
“Well, then we’ll just hope that the ship sinks before it docks so we can go down in history as the lovers who should’ve made it.” He smiles. It makes you cry harder, offering all this comfort but no happiness. Josh frowns and wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”
“It’s okay…” You whisper. “You have this way with words... It makes it hard not to be moved or not to fall deeper in love with you.”
“I thought we agreed no preventing the inevitable like falling in love with each other?” You pull away from the hug and wipe his tears. He kisses yours away.
“Right, well I’m instilling a new rule. Not preventing us from falling in love with each other. No more tears, either Kiszka?” You hold out your pinky. He links your pinkies together and then you both kiss the ends of your hands on instinct, giggling when you realize you both did it without words. It’s like an invisible string that had connected you all this time.
“You got it, Doll.” He says softly, before leaning forward and kissing you gently. You decide not to worry too much about it, realizing that if the universe was smart enough to bring you and Josh together for these two weeks, you’d find your way back to each other again. How could you not?
You were falling in love with each other, after all.
• • •
Day Eleven:
You wake up the next day to your favorite sight. Josh tangled in the sheets with you, but for once he’s still asleep. You love it. You wound up spending the day with him and then going to dinner with your family, the night full of laughs, because Josh is just so God damn charming.
He’s so pretty.
You grab your phone from your dresser and then take a photo of him, all sleepy and shining under the sunlight.
His eyes flutter open after a few minutes of you admiring him.
“Well, good morning, Pumpkin.” He says in this low morning voice. Your fingers play with his hair,
“Good morning, sunshine.” You grin, leaning down and kissing his head. He turns to you and smiles.
“What do you have planned for today?” At this question, you groan. Fuck, you forgot everything you have to do today.
“I have a meeting with a notary, who doubles as the cruise line’s wedding coordinator, that I was supposed to go to with my ex…” You sigh. “But now I gotta go and tell them that no, I am not getting married, and that the ceremony is going to be a renewal of vows for my parents.” You sigh and rub your eyes. Josh looks at you, and he has that idea spark in his eyes. You see it, and he knows you see it. “What? What is it?” You ask.
For a moment, you wonder if he has the same idea that you’ve had for the past few days. But that’s crazy, why would he possibly think that you two should go through with it, that you two should get married?
“What if we went through with it? Getting married, I mean?”
Well, I’ll be damned. He did have that thought.
“Josh—” You grin, and he shakes his head, burying his face in his pillow.
“Never mind, that’s dumb, I’m sorry…” He sighs. “We just met, it’s a completely crazy idea, I just can’t get it out of my head, and—”
“Let’s do it.”
“What?”
“Let’s get married.”  What the fuck are you talking about? Why would you agree to this? “It’s bonkers.”
“I completely agree.” He speaks. “You need a dress.”
“We need rings.”
“We need to tell our families…” You grab your phone and start to make a list. Get notarized, get a dress, get rings, tell families. That’s the list.
Busy busy day. Josh takes your hand and kisses the back of it, squeezing your hand. Then, you get up and head off to shower.
As the two of you get ready to meet the notary, you begin to realize how crazy this is. You met Josh what? Ten, eleven days ago? How did you manage to fall in love with him so quickly? You try not to think too much about it. Worst case scenario, you get an annulment, right?
You’re getting married to a rockstar and you’re not even a groupie.
Josh meets you at the door and takes your hand, and you begin to grow nervous. Not to get married but to tell your parents. This was a wild idea that you most definitely did not see them approving of. But you’re an adult, you can make your own choices.
Josh squeezes your hand when you get into the elevator. As the doors close, you begin to kiss him, full of this need.
Eventually, you do make it to your notary, Linda.
“Hi! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Austin—”
“No, actually. Mr. and Mrs. Josh Kiszka, and I have no intention of being Mrs. Josh. Mrs. Kiszka is fine.” You smile.
“Oh, my mistake. I didn’t realize—”
“Spur of the moment decision. Which, I know is crazy and you probably don’t get that a lot, but—”
“Elopements of all types are extremely common especially in the vacation business.” She assures. “And honestly, I met my wife and knew I wanted to marry her after a week. Some people wait years to get married and only last for a few months. Others get married after two weeks and stay together for the rest of their lives. When you know, you know.” She advises. You like that, and grin.
“When you know, you know.” You repeat. “What do we have to do to get married?” She hands you two forms for a marriage license and goes through them with you.
“And are you going to take his last name?”
Kiszka. Mrs. Kiszka. You imagine your students calling you that, imagine the name on your ID, on a sign in your home.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” You smile. She guides you through the steps to do that on the marriage license.  It takes a while, but you eventually get the licenses filled out, and Linda takes them back.
“Amazing. I’m going to make sure everything looks good here and give you confirmation tomorrow. At the very least, you get married by the captain tomorrow and then when you get back to the states, you’ll fill out the license again, and celebrate your anniversary as tomorrow not when the license goes through.” That seems simple enough.
“Thank you.” You tell her. Josh parrots you, and Linda just smiles.
“Of course. I wish you two a very long and happy marriage.” She says, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yeah, you remember how we said this was last minute?” She nods. “Where can we get rings and a wedding dress?”
She directs you to a small boutique on the island you’re docked at, somewhere that has lots of gowns for stupid decisions like yours. Then, she tells you there’s a jeweler on board. Is there anything this ship doesn’t have?
So you head off to the jewelers first, and you, honestly, spend more time doing this than anything else. You look at black bands, and they’re not your style. You look at silver, but it really doesn’t go with the gold ring you got the other day.
Then you land on these gold wedding bands. They’re engraved with leaf patterns, and the jeweler advertises custom ring carvings in less than 24 hours.
“Hey,” He says to the attendant at the counter. “Can we see the gold bands?” He takes them out and hands them to you, and you both place it on your right ring finger. It’s bad luck to try them on your left hand, right?
They fit like gloves.
Josh glances up to the attendant. “How long would it take to engrave our initials into each other’s rings with tomorrow’s date?”
“Couple of hours. You can pick them up tomorrow morning.” He tells you two, and Josh nods.
“Great.” He tells him your initials and his, so that he gets them right, and hands him his card.
Your next step is the boutique. And you stop Josh before you go into the boutique.
“Wait here.”
“What?”
“It’s bad luck to see my wedding dress before the day of.” He scoffs, playfully.
“We’re getting married tomorrow, doll. Besides, we’re not really traditional.” He has a point, but you shake your head.
“C’mon, for me? I won’t be long.” You play with his collar. He kisses you gently, and nods.
“Okay, okay. Good luck with your shopping.” He tells you, and you kiss him quickly before heading over to find yourself a wedding dress.
You don’t find a bunch of white options, but here are your options:
The first is a pretty silk thing but it makes your proportions look bizarre. So, you move on.
The second makes you look like a Mormon, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. It goes down to your ankles and is made of a heavy fabric. No, thank you.
The third is a new age dress that is white with complex black designs. You appreciate the look, but you decide it isn’t for you.
The fourth one is one you weren’t excited about, but then when you try it on, it’s all you want. It’s a 50’s style cut, and it comes down just past your knees, with a corset top. But the skirt and corset has floral designs, with the skirt being a thin lace layer with the flower print. It’s gorgeous, and it almost makes you cry to see yourself in the mirror.
It exudes spring energy. You think about Josh’s face when he sees you walk down the aisle.
You go to pay for it at the counter, and you pick up a pair of simple white heels, and a pearl necklace.
There’s a bouquet of flowers that sits by the counter. You get an idea when you see them and throw them into the pile of wedding things you have.
“Special occasion?” The cashier asks, an amused smile on their face as they ring you up.
“My wedding day tomorrow.”
“It’s a beautiful dress.” They hum. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” You hum, a blush filling your cheeks.  They put the dress in a garment bag, so it isn’t visible, and you hold the bag in the other hand.
“How’d you make out?” Josh asks.
“Lovley. I even got myself accessories.” You grin. Josh leans forward and kisses you quickly.
“My bride to be…”
“My husband to be.” You say softly. “We need to text our families. Maybe we could have them meet us for dinner and tell them then?”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He says. You whip out your phones and spend a few minutes texting your families on the cruise asking them to dinner. Then, you turn back to your husband to be, for real, not just to get free things.
“Wanna go back to our cabin...?” You smirk. “We should engage in premarital… activities.”
“Oh, Doll… You’ll be the death of me...” He growls, taking your hand and leading you back to the ship.
You spend your time until dinner doing your favorite things with Josh, and then you spend about two hours fashioning your bouquet of flowers into a flower crown, leaving a few to tuck into Josh’s hair and suit pocket.
He was off grabbing coffees for the two of you, when there’s a knock on your door. You answer it, and it’s your sister. Oh.
“Hey!” You grin, going back to your work on the flower crown.
“Hey, why’d you ask your roommate and his family to join us for dinner?” She hums. You’re about to answer when she looks around the room. She sees the garment bag hanging from your bathroom door, the white shoes and pearls, flowers scattered around the room. Her eyes land on the gold wedding bands on your dresser. She says your name, before adding, “You aren’t…”
“Listen, I know how crazy it is—”
“It’s more than crazy!” She says, sitting on the bed with you. “You’ve known him for a week!”
“…Ten days.” You say, a little ashamed, your older sister disapproving of your choices.
“C’mon.” She says.
“Mom and Dad have been married for twenty years.” You say. “They got married after six months. Arthur and Veroncia got married after a year! You had a baby with a guy who you aren’t even dating anymore. So what if I’ve only known him for a week? Who gives a shit? People have gotten married after a week and stayed together their entire life, others get engaged after five years and don’t even make it to marriage!” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe it’s a mistake. But it’ll be the best god damn mistake of my life, so just stand by the alter and look pretty for me.” You ask.
She looks at you for a few minutes.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. You’re right, it could be a mistake, but it could be amazing.” She hums. “You have a nicer man than I do.” She grins. You laugh and hug her. “Now let me see your dress, Mrs. Kiszka!”
That night at dinner, you hold Josh’s hand nervously, as if he’ll float away if you let go. Your two families get along great. Your parents love his, your siblings quickly get accustomed to his, and your nephew sits on Josh’s lap, and they entertain each other.
Between Dinner and Dessert, when your nephew returns to his seat, you stand up and gently clink your glass for everyone’s attention.
“Hi everybody. Thanks so much for coming tonight,” Is this a rehearsal dinner? “So, a few of you might have noticed my ring, and uh—It started as a joke. To get free stuff.” You say, earning a few laughs at the table. “But it developed into something more.” You look to Josh. “And what I’m about to say, is crazy, I know that. And I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and nothing has ever felt so right. So support us or not, I don’t care. This is what’s happening and—”
“Spit it out already!” Your dad laughs. You pause, your hands shaking. Josh takes it in his.
“So, Josh and I are getting married tomorrow.”
Silence. No response. You feel tears in your eyes.
“Mozel Tov!” Your mom gasps, standing up and going over to the two of you. She hugs you tightly, and her congratulations break the tension of the table as the rest of them come over to congratulate you.
Anyone who has reservations against your decisions keep them to themselves. Jake comes over to congratulate you two, and suddenly Josh is nervous again.
“Congrats, man!”
“You’re not mad?” Josh asks.
“Mad? You’re marrying a girl you met last week. That is so rock and roll!” He pulls josh into a hug, and then he hugs you. “Oh, good luck, hot stuff.” He hums and kisses your cheek. You feel loved.
“Good,” Josh grins, “Because you’re going to be my best man.” You turn to your parents.
“You’re not mad?” You ask.
“No, of course not. It’s crazy, but you’re an adult. If you love him, you need to do what’s best for you.” You grin.
“Thank you. We should schedule a different renewal of your vows, too, and—” Your dad hugs you.
After dessert, you hold your nephew in your arms, and he’s sleepy.
“Is Josh gonna be my uncle?” He asks softly, and you smile, kissing his head.
“Yeah. I think so...”
“Good. He’s cool…” You look at Josh and admire him laughing with your sister and his brothers.
“Yeah. I think so too.”
• • •
Day Twelve:
Your wedding day goes by way too quickly, and before you know it? You’re slipping on your heels and clipping the pearl necklace around your neck. Your phone rings.
It’s Josh.
“Hey, Honey. What’s going on?” You ask.
“Doll, there’s a photographer by the venue, was this planned?”
Shit. You forgot about that.
“Yeah, uh, let her take photos of you and our families, and she’ll photograph the ceremony. Then, she’ll take photos of the happy couple.”
“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”
“I love you, Joshua.”
“I love you.” He says your name. You hang up, and your parents are knocking at your door. You open it, and they’re speechless at your ensemble.
“Does Arthur have the wedding rings?” You ask, hoping he’ll give them to your nephew.
“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.” Your mom coos, and it hits you.
You’re getting married.
You grin, and head down to the small venue that has been put together on the ship. The photographer takes a few photos of you, and you’re suddenly happy you paid for the whole package.
And then it’s time. Your parents walk you down the aisle, and when you see Josh standing there, his brothers as his best men, your sister stands with your nephew on the other side of the alter. You kiss your parents quickly, before you stand in front of Josh, taking his hands. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Hey.” You say softly.
“Hi…”
“This is crazy, right?” You whisper.
“Absolutely. You look amazing.” He hums. It’s funny because he looks ethereal. The flowers in his hair look amazing.
“You look amazing.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
The captain, your officiant, begins the usual--- Telling everyone why they’re here, about life and death.
“Do you two want to say a few words?” He asks.
“I’ll go.” Josh says gently. “For a long time, I never thought I’d find anyone who could keep up with me. Who could love me for all the parts of me… And then you came along and immediately, you showed me this infinite kindness. I knew I would never get over you in that moment. I love you. And I hope this marriage is an infinite source of happiness and wild adventures. And if not, fuck it—” He cringes, realizing he used fuck in his wedding vows, “Fuck it. Let’s make it a crazy and fun marriage even if it only lasts a week.” You almost kiss him right there and then.
“Josh, I don’t… I never really thought I’d fall in love again. I never thought I would fall in love with anyone again. I… I thought that maybe… Maybe I was unlovable or...” You play with his fingers. “Whatever. But when I met you, I realized that I didn’t know what love was before you came into my life. And since I’ve met you, life has just been crazy, full of love and this… this general glow for life. I love you. I love you deeper than anyone I’ve ever known, and I like to think we have a golden type of love. I’ll love you forever, no matter what. Marriage or not.”
You realize you’re crying and Josh wipes your tears.
“I thought we promised no more crying, doll.”
“Sorry, Honey.” You whisper.
The Captain smiles and looks to you.
“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”
“I do.” A ring is slipped onto your finger.
He turns to Josh.
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”
“I do.” You slip a ring onto his.
“You may now kiss the bride.” And he does. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you in, kissing you deeply.
The rest of forever starts now, and with Josh by your side, that doesn’t seem so daunting.
• • •
Day Thirteen:
Only technically is it day thirteen.
After the ceremony, the photographer dragged you and Josh off to take photos, and then you went to dinner. You had cake, and then the party really started. Josh’s parents and your own call it an early night and promise to watch over your nephew.
The rest of you go out and drink until you and Josh stumble off into the night. It’s around two a.m., maybe three.
You lay on the beach chairs that you had your talk on back on day ten. Josh holds your hand as you listen to the waves crash, and even drunk, you admire the stars from the top deck.
“Honey?”
“Yeah, Doll?”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“What happens when we get off the boat..?”
“We…” he sighs softly. “We try long distance. We can make It work until we decide to move in together.”
“It’ll probably be a while, unless I can get a job before the school year starts in Nashville...”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“And when you go on tour?”
“You’ll knit on our porch and wait for me to come back.”
“You’ll write songs about me?”
“Baby, every song is about you.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s all about you...” He hums.
You listen to the waves crashing as Josh starts to sing you something. Light My Love, you think.
It makes you realize you’ll never regret marrying him.
• • •
Day Fourteen:
You have to get off the ship early. Like, eight a.m. and you have to say goodbye to Josh.
You say goodbye to his parents, his sister, and then his brothers. Jake holds you close for a while, and then tells you,
“See you around, Sister. Be strong, yeah?” You smile and kiss his cheek. He climbs into the car, and you’re left with Josh.
Your husband.
You wrap your arms around his neck, and he places his hands on your waist.
“I love you.” You whisper. “Don’t be a stranger...”
“A stranger? How could I ever be a stranger to my wife? I love you. We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, doll. I don’t give a fuck about distance. You’re the only thing that’s ever been easy.”
“I’m a real hassle.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”
“I want a divorce.” You giggle. He laughs and kisses you, pulling you close. He hugs you for a while. Neither of you say anything. You want to cry. But you don’t. You maintain your composure. You begin planning, you’ll drive up to Nashville next weekend, you’ll make it work.
You have no other options.
None.
You have to be with him. It’s like breathing, it’s the most natural thing in the entire world.
“I love you.” He says, pulling away to look at you. “Doll, I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you, honey.” You kiss him one more time, and then he leaves. He climbs into his car, and you start to cry on the walk back to your car. Your family says nothing, and you just cry as you start to drive. Your nephew frowns, and looks down at his dinosaur blanket, that always makes him feel better. He takes your hand in his and doesn’t say anything.
You begin to look for teaching jobs in Nashville, searching for apartments too. As you’re searching for something, you get a text.
“Good morning, by the way, Pumpkin. See you soon?” You smile and wipe your tears, before texting back.
“good morning, sunshine. see you soon.”
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