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#me looking at ‘forever royal’: i love this. this is wonderful
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Hey dear, how are you?👋🫶🧡
I had an idea for a short fanfic, and as I like, it has to do with the theme of Saladin's friendship with Baldwin. Anyway, the idea is related to the drawings that @chicken-blitz13 and @somethingstrangeishere created, specifically the ones where Saladin and Baldwin are playing polo. How about a fanfic in which Baldwin and Saladin meet for diplomatic negotiations (on not too global, but relatively small territorial issue, let's say) and during these negotiations one of the rulers casually drops the phrase "If only disputes were solved by games instead of battles...". (Or something like that). And then they get the idea that it's actually not a bad thing. As a result - Saladin and Baldwin decide by lot who chooses which game to play. As a result, they play polo. And then it's up to you, it'll be interesting to see who wins!😉
Always love you, thank you in advance💕
Drawings:
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Credit @chicken-blitz13 and me
♡ Mallets And Hooves - King Baldwin & Saladin ♡
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♡ Fluff ♡
A/N: HELLO GIRL!!! I am soooo sorry that it has taken FOREVER to get to this i've been so busy 😭. I loved writing this so much, I always enjoy writing these two as besties (they deserve it for real). I did change it up a little i'm sorry but I hope you like it anyway! I really hope you enjoy my friend! As always, this is based off the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
P.S. THIS IS NOT A SHIP FIC RAHHH!!!! I also really love the art 🤭and thank you to @chicken-blitz13 for coming up with the fic name 😭
TW: Leprosy
It was a warm evening in Jerusalem when the diplomatic negotiations first took place.
Earlier in the day Saladin had arrived at the castle with his own royal officials to begin the trade route negotiations and after a few hours of rest, the men were ready for the discussions.
Baldwin had been nervous about the affairs prior to the sultan's arrival, mostly because this was their first meeting since his victory all those years ago and he was yet to decide on how the other man would react after seeing him again.
Fortunately, the two had become acquainted quickly and soon the tension was all but gone. If only the same could be said for the other royal officials who had quickly taken to bickering about the affairs while Baldwin and Saladin exchanged glances of empathy and apologies for their counterparts behavior.
They had been at it for hours, so much so that the sun had grown low in the sky and due to the insistence of the other men, a conclusion had yet to be reached.
The sultan rubbed his eyes and sighed as Baldwin yawned behind the iron mask that covered his bored expression. It was truly draining for the both of them and the end seemed nowhere in sight.
Baldwin had not been paying attention for the most part but his attention was grabbed as one of the smaller rulers mumbled, “if only disputes were solved by games instead of battles…”.
The idea of a game of polo lifted the young king's spirits immensely, “alright, enough for now. Meeting dismissed, we shall continue tomorrow” Baldwin said loud enough for them all to hear.
He turned to the sultan for approval and was met with a tired nod.
The officials grumbled in annoyance and stood to leave, collecting their papers as they went.
Baldwin stood and approached the chair next to Saladin who seemed hesitant to get up just yet. The young king sat down and sighed.
“If only he were right..” Baldwin mumbled.
“Sorry?” the sultan replied.
“If only disputes were solved by games instead of battles!” 
Saladin chuckled. “Yes, that would certainly make things much easier” he said, looking out into the distance.
“Would you like to play a game of polo before the food is prepared?” Baldwin offered, a small smile creeping onto his face.
A similar smile came to the sultan at the kings strange request, “that would be wonderful”.
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The two left for the stables, talking about what they would discuss tomorrow and complaining of the behavior of their own men.
“Children! I swear that's all they are” Saladin said, throwing his hands in the air as Baldwin mounted his own horse.
The young king laughed, “yes it definitely seems that way" “I will speak to all of them tonight about their behavior. We are here to make peace, not war” the sultan said honestly as he mounted his own horse. 
So the two set off with the sun casting an orange glow over the desert.
They began to play as the sun got lower and lower in the sky until it was near impossible to see the ball in front of them. The game came to a perfect tie, the two of them laughing about that as they rode back to the stables.
Baldwin's body ached but it was worth it. As of that evening, he considered Saladin a good friend and not somebody to bicker about stupid things with as their officials and advisors did.
When the two arrived back at the castle, dinner for most was prepared in the dining hall and Baldwins in his chambers.
When Saladin saw the young king walk past the table and to his rooms, he followed.
“My friend! Are you not going to dine with us?” he said, confused.
Baldwin simply tapped his mask with a gloved finger in reply.
“I can assure you, nobody would want to see what's under this” that statement made the sultan's heart ache for the young man. He must be so lonely, eating alone in his rooms every night.
“Well in that case, I shall take my food and go with you” he said returning to the dining room before Baldwin could protest. 
---------------------------
The two walked to Baldwin's chambers in silence with Saladin trying his best to concentrate on balancing two plates and a cup in his hands after the refusal of a servant's help, insisting that he did not wish to waste her time her.
Once inside, the two sat down at the small table on the royal balcony.
Baldwin hesitated at removing his mask in front of the other man and Saladin noticed this right away.
“I can assure you my friend, your appearance could never bother me. I admire you for your leadership and respect you as a friend. Nothing could change that” he said with a small, reassuring smile.
The young king sighed and pulled back the head covering to reveal his hair before slowly peeling off the mask, exposing his bandaged face to the cool night air.
Saladin grinned, “ah, you see! Nothing but the face of a brilliant leader, and a good friend”.
He raised his glass to Baldwin. The young king smiled and raised his glass in return.
“To peace between our people, as peace has come between us” the sultan said happily.
“To peace between our people” Baldwin repeated, equally as happy as his new friend.
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inamindfarfaraway · 8 months
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Inspired by the Disney Princess villain song series by Lydia the Bard, here’s my idea for Princess Sofia’s own dark version of a Sofia the First song and the backstory and animatic script accompanying it. There are mentioned dead bodies and a little blood. I’ve really tried to keep her in-character, despite the very different circumstances and tone. She’s more of an anti-villain here.
I’d love to hear feedback on this and talk to other fans, of Sofia or Lydia.
I’ve written one for Princess Elena too!
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gracexthoughts · 2 months
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Seven
jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!aunt!oc
content/warnings; canon typical incest, slight talk of death/violence, Alicent being rude, angst and fluff
summary; Jacaerys and Aelyria were childhood bestfriends, inseparable and mischievous, until the princess Rhaenyra moved her family to Dragonstone, leaving her youngest half sister without her closest companion. Nearly a decade later, King Viserys has decided the feud within his family too far gone and declared the betrothal of Prince Jacaerys to his youngest daughter to help heal the rift. 
a/n; inspired by seven by taylor swift and jace’s talk with baela about fathers. I know this pairing has been done a lot but I really love it and hope I did it justice. about 4k words. 
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Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?
“Aely!” The young prince Jacaerys called after the princess as she sprinted off into the woods. “Slow down!” Even though he was taller, she was quick and had run off before he could even get ready. Her laugh rings out over the grass as she darts into the woods, Jacaerys on her heels. 
The entirety of the royal family, accompanied by many lords and ladies, had traveled to the Kingswood for a royal hunt in celebration of the Prince Jacaerys' 10th name day. As he is the future heir to the Iron Throne, the crown had spared no expense for the celebration. Jacaerys himself, however, was not at present interested in whatever creature was being tracked down in his name, his sights set on adventure with the young Princess Aelyria, the King and Queen’s youngest child. Having been born mere months apart, they had grown to be quite close; they trained with their dragons together in the Dragonpit, had discovered and begun exploring the passageways in the Red Keep, and Aelyria had taken to sneaking into the princes’ training sessions in her own desire to learn to fight along with her favorite nephew. And when she would inevitably get dragged away by her mother or the septa, Jace would sneak into her chambers later that evening with two training blades in hand to teach her what he had learned that day. 
As Jacaerys breaks through the treeline, he runs straight into Aelyria, who had stopped suddenly in the woods, sending the pair tumbling forward in a heap of limbs. “Jace!” the princess cried, a laugh in her voice as they disentangled themselves and their cloaks. 
“You’re the one who stopped!” Jace laughs in his defense. “Why did you? I thought we were racing to the creek,” he wonders, standing and extending his hand down to help up the princess, a princely boy even at his young age. 
“I thought I saw something but we must have scared it off now,” she says, taking his hand and standing, not bothering to brush the dirt off her skirts. The princess’ lilac eyes flicker with mischief as she looks around the woods surrounding them, her eyes settling on a nearby tree with low branches fit for climbing. “C’mon!” 
Before Jacaerys can respond, the princess is pulling herself up to the lowest branch, swinging her legs over with ease, not a care in the world for the preservation of her skirts. She was always quite boyish, never heading her mother’s lessons of ladylike manners and behaviors. The young prince has never minded though, enjoying her wildness and sense of adventure. A day with her was never boring. 
Soon the young royals were high in the treeline, standing on either side of the large trunk balanced on branches as they took in the view around them. Their breaths were labored from the climb, their cheeks flushed and smiles wide. The ruckus of the hunt was left far behind and below them, not able to reach them in the trees. “I wish we could stay here forever,” the princess sighs, sitting down on her branch, her legs swinging. 
“Why?” the prince asks, watching her curiously. 
“It’s quiet,” she says softly, looking up at the still standing prince. “And beautiful and here my mother can’t yell at me to be more ladylike.” She rolls her eyes and mimics her mother’s intonation. Jacaerys laughs, climbing over and sitting next to the princess on her branch. 
“When we are older, I’ll be King and I’ll command your mother to leave you be.” 
“Will you let me be a knight?” the princess asks, excitement in her voice. 
“If you’d like!” Jacaerys laughs. “You could be my sworn protector.” 
“I’d be a brilliant knight.” the princess declares, straightening her back and puffing out her chest and the pair fall into giggles. 
“Well I promise then, once I’m King I’ll make sure your mother can never tell you to be ladylike again!” Jacaerys declares, holding out his pinky to the girl, who smiles and links hers with his, thankful for him. 
Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you
Jacaerys makes his way through the dark halls of Dragonstone, his footsteps echoing through the hall as he makes his way to the Great Hall. Nearing his destination, the voices of his mother and stepfather leak out through the ajar door. He pauses for a moment, not wishing to walk in on an intimate moment. 
“He says he wishes for it in the hope it will heal the rift between our families,” his mother says, her voice smooth and calm. 
“So he may fall prey to their vicious children? How do we know this isn’t a Hightower scheme?” Daemon challenges with clear disdain in his voice. 
“I cannot believe this idea came from Alicent nor Otto,” the princess responds. 
“Does not mean she won’t take advantage of it. She may be instructing Aelyn on how to best manipulate him at this moment.” 
“Her name is Aelyria, Daemon,” Rhaenyra corrects, peaking Jacareys’ interest further. His mother’s youngest half-sister was not a common topic of conversation in their home, even if she far preferred her half-sisters to her half- brothers. “They were friends when they were children; Jace doted on her even. It may prove to be a good match.” 
Daemon opens his mouth to respond but stops when he sees Jacaerys entering the room with a questioning look on his face. 
“Jace,” his mother says happily, smiling at him and motioning for him to come in. He obliges, his long stride carrying him through the room quickly to stand at the Painted Table with his mother and stepfather. “Apt timing. We just received word from your grandsire the King, he has suggested a match for you.” 
“A match? Who?” the young prince inquires, his gaze darting between Rhaenyra and Daemon, acting as if he had not been eavesdropping. 
“The Princess Aelyria. You are the same age, both unwed, and the King remembers how close you were as children,” his mother states, setting down the scroll of parchment in her hand on the table. “He thinks you would make a fine pair, and she a good Queen to have by your side.” Daemon scoffs slightly to her left, walking away to lean against the mantle above the hearth. Jacaerys stays silent for a moment. Marriage was something he knew would be coming but in truth, he hadn’t given it much thought. The princess he remembered was a small, spirited little girl with a quick wit and even quicker temper. She often snuck out of her own lessons to join the princes in their trainings, and trained in the Dragonpit alongside them for many years. He’d certainly held a boyhood crush on her then but Jacaeyrs struggles to imagine who she has grown into.
“What say you, Mother?” he asks finally, looking up from the Painted Table to meet her eyes. 
“I quite agree with my father,” she says after a moment. “It would do well to have our line of succession shored up, and the princess would make a fine match. While she has a reputation for being a little wild, I also hear that she has a good heart and a kind reputation among the smallfolk that would strengthen your reign when the time comes,” She says, moving closer to her son, “But it is your opinion that matters most in this.” 
“And of the Hightowers?” Daemon interjects from his place at the hearth, his eyes fixed on the flames. 
“Even they are not above the will of the King,” Rhaenyra responds, “We would have to go to King’s Landing for the wedding, but we needn’t stay.” Jacaerys holds his mother’s gaze for a long moment, mulling the idea of marriage, to someone he hardly knows any longer, over in his mind. “So?” 
“Yes, I accept,” he says with a nod, attempting to look more sure of himself than he feels. His mother smiles, raising his confidence slightly, and nods. 
“Then I shall write to my father,” she says, and kisses Jacaerys’ forehead before retrieving the scroll from the table and retreating from the room. Jacaerys lingers for a moment, watching Daemon whose eyes are trained on his wife’s retreating figure.
“The Hightowers are scheming and dangerous. You should watch this girl carefully,” he says to the young prince finally. 
“She’s not a Hightower, she’s a Targaryen,” Jacaerys responds quickly, already feeling protective over his betrothed. 
“Same thing for that lot,” Daemon responds darkly before grabbing his sword from the table and following after the princess. 
Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long
The Prince grunts slightly as his feet hit the solid ground after lowering himself from Vermax’s back, stiff from the long ride. He and his mother have come to King’s Landing for the first time in many years so he and the princess can be reacquainted before their wedding in a moon. The rest of their family will come for the wedding but Rhaenyra wanted to avoid any repeat of the last time they were all together. 
Jacaerys would never reveal this secret but he was quite nervous. He could barely remember the face of the princess, let alone what she could look like or what her personality was now. Was she still as wild and rebellious and boyish as she was or has she relented to her mother’s will and become a lady? Jacaerys watches quietly as his mother speaks with the guards, requesting a carriage be brought to take them back to the castle, and as the Dragonkeepers escort Vermax and Syrax into the Dragonpit. Jacaerys wonders if Vermax remembers his first home still, the place they first bonded. He is quickly torn from his thoughts as a shadow passes over them and looking up, he sees a beautiful white and golden dragon making its descent to the ground.
The dragon and her rider’s backs are facing the prince once they land but the woman in front of him was undoubtedly the princess, for he’d recognize her dragon, Starfyre, anywhere. He watches as the princess pats her dragon on the neck, before leaping from the saddle and landing easily on the ground. She faces away from him still, speaking to the Dragonkeeper in High Valyrian but the prince finds himself taking in every detail he can. Her silver gold hair is intricately braided to hang down to the small of her back, her legs are long and wrapped in trousers made for riding, and a black riding coat accentuates her curves and hangs to her knees, her voice is melodic and sure in her High Valyrian. She nods to the Dragonkeeper and turns, pulling her riding gloves off with her teeth before her lilac eyes find Jacaerys and Rhaenyra. 
“Jace?” she calls, stepping away from her dragon and closer to him. She has the wide doe eyes of her mother still but everything else of her is Targaryen through and through, sharp features and high cheekbones, and her smile more beautiful than Jacaerys remembers it. 
“Aely,” he responds with a smile, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword, unsure of where else to put them. 
“I didn’t think you were arriving until later this evening,” the princess says, her eyes scanning the prince. Like Jacaerys, she has spent much time wondering how the boy she knew has changed into the man she’s been betrothed to and she is stunned at what she finds. His face is angular and handsome framed by long dark curls. He is tall and lean while still appearing strong, his warm brown eyes the exact same as she recalls. 
“We got an earlier start than expected,” Rhaenyra steps forward, “How are you, sister?” 
“I am well, and you?” Aelyria nods. Rhaenyra has always been her favorite sibling, even if they weren’t close. She looked up to the women as a child, and her mother’s distaste towards the princess made Aelyria feel a certain kinship with her half sister. 
“We are well. Are you headed back to the Keep?” 
“I am, would you ride back with me?” she offers, motioning to the carriage pulling up to the gates of the Dragonpit. 
“That is kind, thank you,” Rhaenyra says with a smile, and a wink for her son, and moves toward the carriage but Aelyria hangs back, her eyes trailing over her betrothed again. 
“You are much changed since I last saw you,” the prince says, stepping forward. 
“I can say the same for you, nephew,” she says, failing to keep her mischievous smile from her face. Jace had always hated when she called him that as children, but he can’t find the annoyance in him at the moment, too entranced by the sound of her voice. Instead he laughs and shakes his head, holding his arm out to escort the princess to the carriage so they can make their way back to the Red Keep. 
And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with Me and we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry Or hide in the closet And just like a folk song Our love will be passed on
Jacareys wanders through the halls of the Red Keep, familiarity and strangeness battling in his mind. The castle has changed much in the near decade of his absence and yet, he could see it as it was in his youth: the halls the same he and his brother ran through, the Dragonpit the same as it was the first day he rode Vermax, the secret passages the same as when he and Aelyria discovered them as children. Jacareys found himself mindlessly making his way to the training yard, allured by the sound of steel against steel. 
Jacareys steps into the training yard to find Princess Aelyria and Prince Aemond sparing in the center. He remembers well how she would watch the princes in training, even picking up a sword and practicing herself before being run off by Ser Cristen or her mother or the septa. She’s grown much in the years since he last saw her, her skills far outpacing that of which he had imagined. Jacareys watches as she circles Aemond, striking, blocking and dodging with surprising speed and accuracy. Jacareys finds his gaze drawn to her legs, unhidden by skirts as she stands in trousers, the riding coat she favors tossed over a training dummy. 
Princess Aelyria’s laughter echoes off the walls of the yard as she stands up from her dodge of her brother’s blunted sword, having ducked and rolled under the blade to recover behind him. Aemond turns around in frustration, swinging again with his blade as Aelyria reaches up to block his attack before stepping under his reach and elbowing the prince in the side. With her small stature and lesser strength, the princess had learned that speed and agility were her friends in bouts and quickly excelled in her capabilities. Aemond grunts from the blow to his side, his steps staggering slightly as his sister circles him, waiting for her to recover. 
“Ready to yield, brother?” she taunts, her lips turned up in a smirk. 
“You’re the one running,” he bemoans, righting himself and raising his sword, readying to strike again but lowers his blade, his eyes fixed over Aelyria’s shoulder with a sly smile. “Come to train, nephew?” The princess turns, her eyes finding Jacaerys pushing off the wall, his brown eyes trained on the prince. 
“To speak with my betrothed,” he answers, his gaze shifting to Aelyria and softening for her. Aemond eyes narrow, upset at the match as much as his mother, leveling a menacing glare at his nephew before taking his leave without another word. “He doesn’t like me,” Jacaerys states, as the door to the yard slams, and turns back to Aelyria who chuckles. 
“Aemond likes no one,” she responds, leaning on the training blade, "He merely tolerates me as he has no one else to spar with save Cole."
“It may be,” the prince says, suddenly feeling uneasy under her gaze. “When did the Queen surrender to your training?” 
“Soon after your leave, if I remember correctly. They grew weary of disciplining me with no effect,” the princess smirks. 
“As you always hoped,” they chuckle, a hint of their old familiarity returning. The prince glances at the table of training weapons. “Care for another round?” 
“If you can keep up,” she smirks, tossing him the blade Aemond had left in his wake. Aelyria makes the first move, but Jacaerys quickly counters. He holds back at first, unsure of fighting with a woman, but he quickly learns that Aelyria is quite capable and a formidable opponent and he begins to let loose. They are well matched, meeting blow for blow until both of them are sweaty and panting. 
“You fight well,” the prince compliments, his chest rising and falling quickly and a curl sticking to his damp forehead. 
“Thank you, you do as well. Much better than when you would teach me in my chambers,” Aelyria laughs, wiping at her hairline where baby hairs stick to her skin. 
“You make it sound quite scandalous,” Jacaerys jests, setting aside the training blades. 
“It was to us then,” the princess points out, remembering how careful they were to not get caught. 
“True enough,” he laughs, his eyes lost in hers, the soft lilac of her irises beautiful and intriguing to him as ever. “You know, I’ve missed you, in truth. I never had as much fun alone as with you here,” the prince says softly, stepping forward and brushing a stray hair from the princess’ brow. The air becomes thick between them, their eyes locked together. 
“I missed you too, my brothers are poor company compared to you-” 
“Aelyria!” The voice of the Queen rings out over the courtyard, startling the Jacaerys and Aelryia who back away from each other quickly. The queen stalks over to her daughter, grabbing her arm roughly. Aelyria’s face sours and she yanks her arm from her mother’s grip, leveling her with a hard stare. “You have a dress fitting you are currently missing and you look a mess. I thought you could put away this foolishness for one hour. You would think this is my wedding for as much as you seem to care about it!” 
“Mother, I-”  
“I apologize, your Grace. The princess had finished near an hour ago but I stepped in. I don’t have many sparring partners save my brothers on Dragonstone. The fault is mine,” Jacaerys steps in, unable to ignore the anger bubbling in his stomach at the queen’s treatment of her daughter. 
“Price Jacaerys, it is good to see you again. I am afraid I cannot stay, but I hope you are settling back in well,” Alicent says to the prince, her face barely masking her distaste of him, before she turns back to her daughter. “Come, Aelyria.” Jacaerys watches as the princess takes a deep breath and, flashing him an apologetic smile, turns to follow her mother back into the castle. 
Please picture me In the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted
“Come in,” Aelyria calls softly at the knock on her door. Jacaerys steps into her chambers at her permission and smiles as he closes the door. “Hi.” 
 “Hi,” the prince says softly, moving to sit next to Aelyria at the table in the center of her room. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I did not mean to keep you and I regret that I did.” 
“I do not. I could have been bathed and early and perfectly excited and she still would have found something wrong. The fault is not yours,” the princess assures, placing a hand over his and squeezing gently. Before she can pull her hand back, Jacaerys clasps his hand to hers, relishing the feeling.  
“I’m sure it is hard for girls and their mothers as it is with boys and fathers,” the prince says sympathetically. 
“Is it hard, with you and your stepfather?” The princess asks, her eyes on their hands. 
“Sometimes, it was strange at first but he’s been my father almost as long as my actual father was,” Jacaerys shrugs. 
“You know, I don’t think I ever got to tell you how sorry I was for you when your father passed,” Aelyria says softly.
“Oh,” the prince says, surprised by her and shakes his head. “Seems so long ago now but I was glad he passed on Driftmark, I know he missed it while away.” 
“That’s not who I meant,” the princess says, and Jacaerys, on instinct stiffens at the realization she means Ser Hardin Strong, and not Leanor Velaryon from whom Jace received his name. “I don’t hold it against you like my mother and brothers do. Seems a silly thing for them to care so much about,” Aelryia adds quickly, sensing his unease. 
“Really?” Jacaerys eyes find hers, shock shining in the dark brown of them. 
“You wouldn’t be you if you had another father and I’ve always quite liked you as you are,” the princess smiles, her thumb grazing against the back of Jacaerys’ hand as a slight blush colors his cheeks. “What was he like?” She asks after a moment. 
“He was gentle, and fierce… They called him Breakbones,” Jacaerys smiles, Aelyria along with him, but there’s a sadness in his eyes still. “He loved us, I think.” 
“Of course he did. Otherwise he would not have defended you so fiercely against Cole.” 
“You remember that?” 
“I do,” Aelyria nods, leaning back in her chair. “It was the first time I saw a true fight. I remember thinking that I had to learn how to fight like that. It felt so necessary, like it was all I wanted… Your father gave me that.” Jacaerys blinks at her for a moment, a strange smile on his lips. “What?” He shakes his head slightly. 
“No one ever calls him my father, not even my mother,” he says after a moment, looking down to where their hands are intertwined on the table. “It’s nice,” he adds after a breath. 
“He’d be proud of you, of who you’ve become,” Aelyria says suddenly, sitting forward and using her free hand to lift Jacaerys’ chin. 
“He’d be happy we’re betrothed,” Jacaerys smiles, leaning closer to the princess. 
“Really?” 
“Yes,” he nods, “I remember one time, he happened to be watching training and you had just gotten dragged away by the Queen but you had put up a good fight before you left and he said, ‘There’s a warrior if I’ve ever seen one.’ I remember looking up at him and he just winked at me, almost like he knew.”
“I wish I had known him better,” Aelyria says softly after a moment and  Jacaerys nods, squeezing her hand. 
“Me too…” Jacaerys nods. For a moment, the pair sit in a comfortable silence, gazing at each other, taking in the fact that they’re together again after all this time. “Do you remember that hunt we had on my tenth nameday? When we ran off into the woods, hiding in the trees?” Aelyria laughs, the memory washing over her at his question and nods. 
“Yes, I do. Oh, what fun we had that day. We only got found because we could not stop laughing as they rode underneath us. Mother was so angry I ruined that dress,” they laugh at the memory together. Even though it had ended in a scolding for each of them, neither ever regretted that day. 
“I remember what I promised that day, and I swear I’ll keep it. Now that we’re betrothed, you are mine, and I am yours and once we’re wed, I’ll make sure you never have to heed your mother unless you wish to,” Jacaerys leans forward, intensity in his gaze as he makes this promise to Aelyria. “I quite like you as you are, and I won’t have her try to change you.” 
Aelyria smiles gratefully, wondering how she got so lucky as to be marrying this man; the boy she grew up with and loved as a girl, and the man sitting in front of her, with all his fierceness and devotion. Aelyria, too moved to speak, leans forward instead, pressing their lips together softly in thanks. Jacaerys doesn’t miss a beat, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek as he kisses her back. Her hand winds in his hair and their hands hold to each other tighter on the table between them. As their lips part, they don’t move away, instead connecting their brows together. They smile at each other, giddy in their love, hearts beating rapidly as one, as they always have and always will.  I, I Sweet tea in the summer Cross my heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Pack your dolls and a sweater We'll move to India forever Passed down like folk songs Our love lasts so long
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theastrical · 5 months
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Honeymoon with genshin men
honeymoon with genshin men! (their choices of destination, where do you guys stay at, and their action to showcase their love for you)
kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, alhaitham x reader
Kaeya’s Nobel Honeymoon
His plan is to make you feel like a royalty, as if you guys are indeed a heir to the crown or maybe the one holding the highest rank in the country. Well you two can only imagine right?
He bought a whole suite for you guys to stay in Airelles (Château De Versailles), France. The suite is called Suite Necker, It’s a beautiful suite, a magnificent one. The view is also wonderful, especially in spring.
He bought the suite for 4 nights, while he also makes sure both of you can have some fun times by participating in the palace tour or the dance in the royal ball.
Helps you whenever you need to fix your clothes, he also manage to fix any clothes malfunction, just incase it would embarrass you, he would fix it without you knowing; act of service is his passion.
Will take you out to some local choices restaurants, he pick the best one, not the one that are meant for tourist. He wants you to have the best food without thinking about the money you both spend over some tourist trap. (While eating, he would always prepare you and your food first, his? Later would be alright. He doesn’t eat his food when you haven’t start eating it)
Would photographed you across the city, the suites, the palace and everywhere you go. His excuse? “I just need to commemorate some beautiful things in here..”
Will buy some souvenirs you’re looking at, especially when you decide not to buy it. He would buy 3 kinds of it and pretend to also like it. Shows it to you (as a surprise) after you both get home from the honeymoon.
Diluc’s cottage dream
He rent a luxurious chalet, the name is chalet melilot. It’s Specifically placed near the mountainside of switzerland so you both can have morning stroll everyday in your honeymoon. Wants to be intact with mother nature since he thought it’ll be more private and sensational.
Thought it’ll be great if you guys also do some surveys around the country for housing if you both enjoyed the country environment.
He would hire a local chef to make you both three course meal for lunch and dinner, it’s all Switzerland’s traditional specialties. Specifically made using organic products and original recipe. He wants you to taste the best healthy and tasty meal, while savouring every each bite.
Every day when you guys walk around the mountain and feel even the slightest bit of cold, he would let you use his jacket, the scent is like firewood, so much like diluc.
At night, he would take you out to the city and even take shots of you using his polaroid. Every pictures he take is meant to be inside his small album of you and him (which he would present it, at the end of the joirney), he would pick the best pictures for his wallet. He seem to have everything in remembrance of you.
At the end of the honeymoon, he surprised you with a dog…a samoyed. It’s a cute thought, also an attentive one. “i know i wouldn’t always be at home and i’m sorry, this honeymoon make me realise that giving you my best is my priority and i will do so by giving you an accompany…this samoyed of our will be our forever accompany in this marriage okay…?”
Childe’s new home
Ajax didn’t like those romantic and sensational types diluc is into, he’s certainly into kaeya’s idea, but he wouldn’t want that either, it’s too cliché. He wants something traditional and refreshing to you. Something that he wants you to experience only with him, not exactly traditional, not exactly romantic, but certainly fresh. It’s not exactly the typical “honeymoon”, since his purpose is to make this trip unforgettable for both of you, and to learn everything about you both.
And that’s to travel around the world to search for a new home, he thought it’ll be better to stay in his hometown but for the sake of you, he wants to make a fresh new start. At your first stop, you guys explore Europe, especially around Sweden and Greece. The second stop is to explore around Asia, which is Mongolia and Vietnam. it’s such a fascinating trip for you both. The third stop is New Zealand, your once go-to-list. To live under these countries culture and to feel as one. You guys kept on trying to adapt to the new environment and it makes you both know each other’s habit easily.
You guys have stayed in numerous hotels and apartments. It’s not exactly romantic nor is it special, it’s both of your purpose to make this trip a whole get-away for newlyweds pressure and such. but makes it endearing is how you both eventually just fall asleep within each other embrace, just resting peacefully in ajax’s chest, while his arm delicately circled your waist. He’s a warm blanket and you’re his beloved plushies.
He would tie your shoes, help you with your bags or laundry, and over all, he’s the one helping you in any chores and in any given chance. He wants you to enjoy this trip without having the burden to do this and that. He just wants you to lay back and have your whole attention to him. Ajax only purpose is to see your smile at the end of the road.
When you both are just too exhausted to explore, you guys would order local take outs and eat it like a hungry fish would. He would laugh and you would teased him. It’s just a moment of laughter and satisfaction. No such a thing as workloads. Just you both having the time of your life together.
Zhongli’s relaxing party
This man’s honeymoon idea is exactly like how you imagine it. Boring but addictive at some way. you both would explore pretty gardens, lovely mountainsides, tea parties, and museum, at taiwan. It’s such a boring idea, but whatever make zhongli smile and whatever make you feel like at an old grandpa house is exactly what you called “the zhongli zone”. It’s comforting, being with zhongli, already feels like you’re being snuggled by a huge polar bear.
He’s such a sweetheart for always making the trip as…relaxing as possible, not wanting to pressure you with the family’s perspective of how newlyweds should act.
It’s not like you’re the one who’s pampering zhongli, he is also trying his best to be suitable enough as the one who court you first. He dips himself inside the hot spring while snuggling with you, he shops some random goods with you, and he also do tea testing by sharing the same cup as you. So relaxing…it makes you forget that you will continue to work again soon sigh.
“do you like this tea? I made this out of boredom and i saw you getting exhausted just by running through stores at the local shops…the goods are okay but i suggest you to keep your health the same, okay?”, this translates to “i’m worried about you, please don’t tire yourself. I want you to be as careful as you are with me when you take care of yourself.” Nonetheless, serves you the tea and even gives you a heartwarming kith on your cheeks.
he would buy you some keychains, handmade ones since he believes it’s more practical for it’s creativity and thoughts in it…also because he appreciates people’s handcraft. He still keeps your handmade bracelets even at your wedding day. he also picks you small pretty flowers when you both were strolling around the floral garden. Fresh and beautiful, just like you (he initially want to say this but he tries not to make it cheesy).
Silently serves you like a dutiful servant would. Makes you tea, cooks you meal, and makes sure you’re well rested. He always wants to pay back the things you did for him, he knows it’s not 100% the same, but he wants you to know that…this honeymoon is made especially for you. After covering you with the blanket and puts on some scented candles. He whispers at night when you were already asleep, “sorry i can’t be the best, but i’ll always be here when you need me. I love you.“
Alhaitham’s wonder of the world
You present him a ticket to travel Papua especially Raja Ampat for your honeymoon and he was so excited, he holds your hand with glimmering eyes…with a calm devoted look. He’s always been this way, hard to show his emotion, even when he’s screaming internally.
When you both arrived, he prepared everything for both of you so you don’t have to stressed out. He loves being the one in charge of itinerary, he loves to work on the schedules. You would see him humming with a straight face in his work office while he’s typing down the things you would do together as husband and wife.
he sets you both up to a diving session. He’s so excited he talks about it all night along. You can hear his yap even at the first day you got there. He loves nature, the sea, and everything inside that deep ocean. You were kind of scared of the ocean, you confessed that at first, and he looks at you with confusion before he say such a reassurance that makes you rethink if this is THE Alhaitham you’re thinking of. “if you’re scared, hold my hand and close your eyes..i promise, i’ll be there, beside you.”
That words he make instantly scarred your heart with love. You don’t even know how it makes you fall harder for him. But you did, you trusted him with your whole life, you hold his hands and he dive you into the sea-worlds. He giggles when he sees you all scared…he hugged you while you both dive so you won’t be scared or sink when you’re not in his watch. “don’t be coy now…trust me, i won’t let you out of my sight.”
When you got back home…you don’t even know how he made you so in love. Sigh…alhaitham, the man you are..
Taglist; @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies
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jueyvns · 7 months
Text
Gojo had grown into a fine young man. He was no longer that timid and terrified boy you'd found in the outskirts of the town. His character has turned into something of a much more confident man.
Sitting in the garden you took care of so well and delicately, you didn't even realize that the white haired man was approaching you. "(Name)," he called. Despite being a figure that he should address highly, you and him have went past that stage a long time ago. You insisted he stopped calling you with that nonsense of a title.
Turning to him, your lips curled into a thin smile.
"Satoru. You're back early." If he hadn't, then maybe you'd realized how his blue orbs had softened at the sound of your voice. It always does wonders to his heart. The maids would always say he's in love with the said princess but he'd always brush it off by saying he just respects you.
"What can I say? I'm just the best out there."
That emits a giggle out of you. He comes closer and sits down next to you. "Any particular reason why your first instict is to come here instead of resting?"
He frowns, "You wound me. Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"I never said that," you paused, holding in a smile. "I'm just worried for your wellbeing. A royal guard should always have their rest especially if they'd just come out of a battle, don't they?"
He stops for a moment to take a good look at you. There's something about you being basked in sunlight and talking to him so softly. It has his heart racing. He wants you to talk to him forever.
"Well. Yes, they do. But," he led your hand to cup his cheek. You let him, you always do. Your thumb caressed the spot under his eye. He leaned into your touch. His eyebags showed how he hadn't got much sleep. "I missed you."
Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you chuckled, "I'm still here tomorrow, and the day after that. I'm not going anywhere."
"Well, yeah but I haven't seen you in weeks."
"I missed you too, Satoru. But you must rest," you could find the disappointment in his eyes as you said those words. You patted your lap and gave him a reassuring smile. "Lie your head here."
He paused in his actions, looking at you in disbelief. Slowly, he lied his head down on your lap. Looking up at you. He might die, he thinks. Your fingers card through his hair and his cheeks flushed pink. "You look pretty," he said quietly.
He didn't miss the tinge of pink dusting your cheeks and you giggled. "You're prettier." He smiled and closed his eyes, feeling your touch. Before he drifted off to sleep. He heard you whisper,
"You did a great job, Satoru. Sleep well."
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tearsofastraeax · 8 months
Note
hiii i just love ur stories and i was wondering, could u write a story where a lot of girls flirt with ghost (cause he's just so hot tbh) and we're crying and feeling bad bcs we're scared he'll find better since he dosen't reject or ignore them??
ty a lot and take care <3
thank u anon ♡ i had so much fun writing a lil angst
sorry it took me longer than expected to wrap up your request, the creative juices are not flowing these days, but i hope you enjoy ♡₊ ⊹
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It's no surprise to you that going out with an incredibly fine piece of man is going to come with some jealous feelings here and there.
Just a couple weeks after you started to hang out with Ghost, you noticed women staring at him. But you didn't blame them, how could they not stare? Ghost just naturally attracts women, with his broad shoulders, his veiny arms, those giant hands ... you could go on and on forever.
But you never expected to find yourself sitting in your bedroom, hiding underneath the blanket and silently sobbing into your pillow because of it.
Earlier that day when you were out with Ghost for a drink it really hit you. You had barely left for a minute to head to the bathroom, but when you came back you saw a beautiful woman standing next to him. Inching closer and closer to him, her hand on his shoulder and a flirty smirk on her face. And it didn't look like he was opposed to it in the slightest. His body was slightly angled towards her, his face covered in mystery behind his mask, but you could feel his smile, you just knew.
Your heart felt like it was about to drop, break apart, stop beating all together. Your stomach was in knots. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute, you had no right to be jealous, right? You were only seeing the man for a couple of weeks now, nothing serious... only, at one point, unbeknownst to you, your little heart had accepted him in and made it serious. You were fucked, royally fucked.
To feign calmness you took a slow breath, in and out. Before you made your way back to Simon and the woman still plastered to his side. You coughed uncomfortably to make them both aware of your presence.
It took him a moment to take his eyes off the woman, before he turned to you.
"Oh, this is my friend, y/n," he looked back towards her, gesturing to you.
You all but managed to swallow the big lump that had formed in your throat. His friend? Is that all you were? A friend? Nothing more? Did it only take one beautiful woman to suddenly make you nothing but a friend to him? You should have known this, it was just too good to be true. Of course he would find someone better than you. You felt your eyes begin to water, but you aggressively blinked the tears away. No, you were better than this.
"Yea, his friend", you pressed out, a tight and obviously fake smile on your lips. "Who is just about to leave actually. Have fun."
You grabbed the jacket haphazardly thrown over the seat next to the one you were just sitting on and turned around. Your legs carrying you out of the bar, you couldn't wait to get out of there, to just get away, as far as possible.
What you didn't see was Ghost's slightly confused expression as he watched you leave. But what you did know was he didn't follow you. Didn't he notice how upset you were? Did he just not care?
You huffed out an annoyed sigh, at yourself, at him, at the world, at everything.
You had barely made it home, slamming the door behind you, before the tears came. They welled up, making everything blurry, and then they came crashing over you like a wave, making it hard to breathe, harder to see and impossible to do anything but slide down against the door and sob into your hands.
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And there you were, laying in bed, an hour later, still fucking pissed and sad and helpless and jealous and ...
Your phone vibrated next to you, Simons name popping up on your screen. You tried to ignore the call but he immediately called again. Deciding to pick it up you heard a low growl in your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up, a slight shiver running down your back.
“Open the fucking door, y/n.”
The edge in his tone made you immediately jump off the bed. For a quick moment though you stopped in your tracks, hating how he could command you and make you feel, how he had so much power over you when clearly he didn't feel the same about you.
But you heard him pounding on your door, so you hurried to open it. The door swung open and his eyes immediately bore into yours. You swallowed down a thick lump in your throat as he crowded into you, effectively pushing the two of you into the apartment. He slammed the door behind him shut and stared down at you, never breaking eye contact.
"What the fuck was that?" He growled. You couldn’t fucking believe his attitude, weren’t you the one that was supposed to be angry?
You took in a deep breath before you answered, "well, I wasn't the one flirting with some chick..."
You meant for the words to come out more powerful, maybe even as aggressive as his. To make him understand that he had no fucking right to barge in here like this and act as if he had the right to demand answers.
"You...", his gaze softened then, shifting into ... surprise? "You're jealous?"
All you could do was shrug, feeling too raw from crying to vocalise your feelings. But to your surprise, he didn't say another word, his hand softly cradling your cheek. Your skin underneath his felt hot to the touch as you looked up to him. His eyes seemed so soft and gentle then, making your breath hitch in your throat. The feeling of him wrapped around you like a warm blanket was overwhelming. His gesture nearly stitching your heart back together all by itself.
"I'm sorry... I-", was all he could say before his lips pressed onto yours, so harsh and hurried, yet somehow gentle and sweet.
His hands slowly travelled down your body, once he reached your ass, he lifted you up so effortlessly, your legs immediately wrapping around his, as he carried you to the bedroom.
He gently whispered between kisses, "I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise."
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moodriingz · 5 months
Text
Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
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“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
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starryevermore · 5 months
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the house of snow (15) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 
chapter summary: you cannot seem to stay away. 
word count: 1,443
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter im so sorry, pet name (petal), not proofread
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The Snow family cottage was beautiful. It looked like it had been plucked straight out of a storybook. The cobblestone walls, the window boxes overflowing with flowers, the ivy growing up the side of the house—all of it was gorgeous. Though you loved your life in the Capitol, a part of you would be content to live here forever and you hadn’t even seen the inside yet. 
“It was a wedding gift from my father to my mother,” Coriolanus said as he walked you up the stone path. “She always preferred the quiet. She would often come here just to escape the noise of the Capitol.”
“Your father must have loved your mother very much,” you said. To build an entire cottage as a wedding gift? You wondered how long it took. Buildings could be erected quite quickly in the Capitol due to all of the resources being sent straight there. But even then, there could be delays when things were not so readily available. How long had it taken to bring everything out to the countryside? 
“They had a long courtship, so he could have the cottage ready by the time they wed,” Coriolanus continued. “In the end, it was worth it to him if only because it was where she chose to have her children.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “She…” you tried to ask, but the words didn’t sound right. It sounded too insensitive to even try. 
“It was the one place that reminded her of my father that had been left untainted by the war,” he said. “I hated this place for so long because it felt like it took her from me. As I grew older, I began to appreciate that at least, through the pain, she felt some amount of peace.” He glanced at you as if to see your reaction. “I hope to make some better memories here with you. If that is alright.”
You swallowed. Oh, why did he have to be so sweet? To share his pain with you, to be so vulnerable…Fuck. Did he do this just so he could confuse your thoughts even more? Or was he being genuine? “I can try,” you offered. 
The corner of Snow’s mouth quirked up. You wanted to kiss it. “Thank you, petal. That is all that I ask.”
But is it all that you will ever ask? you wanted to say. What if you disappointed him? What if you could not provide him with the love he wanted from you? What happens then? 
Instead, you offered a small smile. “Can we go inside? I’m quite hungry after our journey.”
Coriolanus smiled, too, and led you in. It almost felt like you were being taken straight into the lion’s den. You pushed the thought from your mind. You told him you would try. Maybe you couldn’t make better memories for him here, but maybe you could try to understand him. Maybe, away from the Capitol, you could look between Coriolanus from the Academy and the Coryo you’ve come to know and find the true man laying inside. 
You reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. 
After lunch, Coriolanus allowed you your space. He gave you leave to pick which room you would like to stay in over the course of the your honeymoon, showed you where he would stay, and other points of interest in the cottage. Then he disappeared into his study, leaving you to do as you pleased. 
A part of you ached as he left. It had been what you wanted—distance to figure things out on your own. To determine how much you cared about Coriolanus without his presence influencing your thoughts. But you had so much time with him in recent weeks, had gotten to experience him so intimately, that for him to leave you be…It felt wrong. It felt like he took a part of you with him. You swallowed your self-inflicted hurt, though, took a book from the library, and retreated into the gardens. 
Still, as you sat among the grand rose bushes that seemed to follow the Snows wherever they go, you couldn’t focus on the pages. The words blurred together until they were unrecognizable. You found yourself glancing to the window to Coriolanus’s study, silently urging him to walk to it, to look out at you. He never came. 
What was wrong with you? 
You closed the book, not bothering to mark the page you were on. You hadn’t processed a single thing on the pages you flipped through. Hell, you weren’t even sure what it was you were trying to read. This was just a cheap attempt to push away your feelings, to not have to bother sorting through them. 
You retreated back into the cottage, setting the book aside on a table, before marching up to Coriolanus’s study. The door was open. Coriolanus’s back was to you as he gazed out the window. You raised your hand, rapping your knuckles on the doorframe. He turned, his pale blue eyes wild with worry.
“Is everything alright?” he asked. 
“You drive me mad. You make me ill every time I see you. I cannot tell if it’s because of the butterflies girls talk about or because you scare me. You do. Scare me, I mean.”
Coriolanus took a step toward you. “I scare you?” he repeated.
“Your anger terrifies me. I don’t think…I don’t think you would ever hurt me. But the idea of what you might do to someone who does…Coryo, I have never been more terrified than when you thought I was going to run away with Sejanus. I was sure you would have killed him where he stood.”
A frown settled on his face. He took another step. “I should have. You are everything to me. I won’t let anyone try to poison you against me.”
“I cannot for the life of me understand why. You could have anyone, Coryo. You could have someone who knows that they love you, who can say those words.”
“I don’t want anyone but you, petal.” He stepped closer. One more step, and he would be in front of you. Part of you wanted to shy away, to put distance between the two of you. Your feet remained firmly planted. 
“Why?” you begged. 
“Because I burn for you. You have burrowed yourself into my soul, if I should have one. Since we were fourteen, all I have wanted was you. All I have ever wanted was to be good enough for you. I made a name for myself for you, I became king for you. I will be any man you want me to be. Just give me the word.”
Your brows pinched together. “We only met when we were fourteen.”
Coriolanus closed the distance. “I fell in love with a girl who could look me right in the face and say I was wrong for thinking the opera useless, a gratuitous performance than something contributory to society. I did not come to love the opera that day, but rather the girl whose face lit up at every note. Who nearly rose out of her seat as if she might be sing too. I have loved you for a long time, petal. I fear I always will.”
He reached up, his hands cupping your face. You leaned into his palm, your eyes fluttering shut. “I will go to as many performances as you wish, petal. I will pretend I love every one. I will build you a thousand libraries. I will adopt a million cats. If you…If you tell me to beg for your love, I will get on my knees without a second thought. I will do anything, I will be anything, for you.”
“What if you tire of me?”
“I could never. The months I spent with the Peacekeepers, the years I spent climbing the social ladder, all I could think of was you and all of it would be worth it if I could hold you just once.”
“And when you learn that I am a far cry from the woman you think me to be?”
“Then I would love her, too. You are it for me, petal.”
You opened your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lips—how plush they were, how his tongue darted out to wet them, how they parted, ready to say more. Words never fell past them, though, for you stopped them right in their tracks. You kissed your Coryo until you were breathless. 
When you finally parted for air, you whispered, “I…think this is better than a love match.”
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itsbackwoodsbby · 9 months
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His Favorite
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Trevante Rhodes x Black Fem Reader
Warning: Religion! Recreational Drinking! Smut! Protected Sex! Stripper!
Summary: Trevante's favorite stripper is out of work for a while and has no one as a replacement. You decide that you want to be his favorite. Not just for the night. His forever replacement.
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Sunday, he’s always in the church. In the front row, he is watching his dad preach about how wonderful God is. But even saints need to let loose and be wild. On the weekdays and Saturdays, you can catch him at Pink Paradise, the best strip club in the city. He comes in and gives a few dancers money, and once he gets hungry, he’ll go to the bar and order something. When his army friends come with him, he orders hot lemon pepper wings and Hennesy. He orders a small appetizer and a soft drink when he's by himself. Depending on whether his favorite chef is in the kitchen, which is a rare occasion, he’ll order shrimp and fries with lemon on the side.
Then he’ll come to find his favorite dancer to get a lap dance from. She’ll take him to the back and give him the dance of his life. When he pays extra, she opens her throat for him. It’s not the best, but what is a recently honorable discharged army man with no wife supposed to do?
It’s Sunday, you sit down in the church, running a tad bit late. You had a late shift last night, but you’ll be damned if you missed church. You see him in the front as usual as you listen to the pastor talk about how God will make a way out of no way. Then, it shifts to him congratulating and thanking his son for his time in the service. He then calls him up to stand next to him.
“Trevante, son. I love you. I’m so proud of your accomplishments in the service. God has blessed you and worked on you. Because you know you used to be a handful. Boy, you used to give me hell.” Pastor Rhodes says. Everyone laughs at that comment. “But you grew up an amazing strong-minded, young man. You know how to stir away from temptations because the army gave you a new mindset.”
The statement makes you giggle. Stir away? Please! It’s Praise Pussy Sunday tonight at Pink Paradise and you know you’ll see him tonight. And his favorite dancer is out with the flu, so you’re going to be his replacement tonight. Hopefully, you just be his new favorite forever. 
Around 9 pm, you get ready to go to work. You shower and put on something comfortable and easy to take off so you can put on your work outfit. You pack your work bag with two extra outfits, lotions, perfume, wipes, two mini bottles of Crown Royal, makeup, deodorant, and gum. You head to your pole room, grab your money bag, and empty out the cash from Saturday night. You quickly count it and you see you made $659 that night. 
You go to your car and you head to Pink Paradise. You look in the parking lot to see if you see Trevante’s car. You know he's here when you see that black 2023 Corvette with the top down. You walk inside the club. It’s packed as usual on Praise Pussy Sunday. You see the girls in outfits. Some of them dressed as nuns, priests, and other sexy holy things. You go to the locker room. As you maneuver through semi-naked women and bare-naked women, you can hear that Trevante is the talk of the room. You can hear the other girls murmur amongst themselves. “Yo, Kream is gone. And I saw Trevante in the crowd tonight. I love Kream, but I want Trevante to myself. You don’t say anything, you just get dressed. If you say anything about wanting Trevante, the girls will eat you up. You recently started stripping, so they call you a baby stripper. It’s best to stay silent, but you have to prove that you have more experience than an actual baby stripper. As you do your makeup, you take one of the bottles of Crown Royal to calm your nerves down. The club’s atmosphere usually is laidback, but you have to know what you’re doing. If you don’t, you’ll barely get anything and it’s very hard to come back after making a fool of yourself. One by one, the girls dance and you patiently wait until your turn. You have a special performance under your sleeve. 
You peek out the curtain to observe the room. It is sort of blurry from the haze of people smoking weed. You look around until you spot Trevante. He is talking to his friends in a booth, fucking up those hot lemon pepper wings. You keep that spot in your mind for your performance. As To My Bed by Chris Brown comes on, you feel the crowd's laughing and talking fade in the background as the lights dim. You walk out slowly and sway your hips to the melody. Everyone is focusing on your body, but your main focus is just to get his eyes on you and it is clear he is just as entranced by you. Your movements are slow and sensual, but you feel no shyness on stage. 
You are a natural at this. Your hips grind to the song, slowly making their way towards him, watching him react to each move. You reach the pole, tracing a circle around its base. The beat drops, and you take hold of the pole and begin to slide down it slowly. You swayed your hips in a slow circle, teasing the crowd but keeping the focus on Trevante. As you slide down the pole, you lean forward and let your body rest against it, teasing your body shape just enough to create the desired effect. The crowd yelled out their approval, but you couldn't keep your eyes off the one man in the booth. Everyone is throwing money and your other dancing peers are shocked that you have this talent in you.
After your dance, you go into the locker room and use your baby wipes to get the sweat. The girls are hyping you up as you’re changing into your second outfit for the night. After that, you walk around the club. Customers are giving you tips and complimenting you. You go to the bar to get a drink and you’re about to pay when Trevante stops you and says he will pay instead. He smiles at you and you see he is wearing his grillz. You almost faint as you look at the shine. You would honestly let him take you down right now in front of these people, but you have to have some decorum. You two sit at the bar.
“Can I get what the lady got?” He asks the bartender, who starts making the drink again. You take a baby sip of the drink. “Thank you for paying,” You smile at him. “You’re welcome. You were amazing.” He says to you biting his lips. “I ain’t never seen you before. You must have recently started working here.” He asks you. “Yeah. I started working here a few weeks ago.” You smile. “Thanks, I try when it comes to dancing.” You say, trying not to sound too cocky, but you are proud of yourself. “Say, do you know where Kream is?” He asks you with a curious look on his face. “Oh, she is going to be out for a few. But, I can always help with your Pink Paradise needs.” You smile at him. He smirks, “Oh, a newbie can help me? He laughs at your smile drops from your face when you hear the word, newbie. “I’m just playing. Show me what you got.” 
You take his hand and walk him to the back. As you’re walking back there, some of the bitter girls are mad. They try to stop you from giving him a dance. “Trevante, what about Kream? She wouldn't like that her replacement is a baby stripper.” They say to him, but he doesn’t care. 
When you get in the room, you lock the room. The lights in the room are a low-light purple and the floor has a white fur rug. He sits on the couch and looks at your body some more, loving your curves and that ass behind you. You walk to him and start giving him a lap dance. Sitting on his lap, grinding your hips, teasing him as if you are about to kiss him, and kissing his neck. You stand up and get behind him. You rub up and down his chest. You see he is getting stiff in his pants. You smile and look at him.
“I can’t be doing bad for a newbie.” You smirk at him, as you get back on top of him and rock your hips on him. “Not at all.” He grunts lowly and starts feeling your body. “Do you do more?” He asks you. You eye him as you continue dancing, “As in?” He smiles, “Do you give head? Sex?” You smile at him, “Yeah, but it’s extra.”
Trevante didn’t care. Honestly, he needed something new. Kream is okay, but he needs better. And you are probably letting him fuck you. It is a win-win for him to have a new favorite. 
He pulls his boxers and jeans down and his semi-hard dick is staring at you. You get on your knees and waste no time and take his whole dick in your mouth. You start bobbing your head down his dick and you feel his hand travel to your head. He guides your head down his shaft. You look up and see his mouth is hanging open, licking his grillz. You then begin to feel his grip on your hair tightly and start getting rough hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but you take it like a champ. You come down and start sucking on his balls as you stroke his shaft. 
“Shit, you damn sure can suck dick better Kream, that’s for sure.” He mumbles under his breath, biting his lips as you come back up and resume sucking his dick.”Yeah, suck this dick.” He throws his head back on the couch and places his hand back on your head. He pushes your head down further as he begins to twitch in your mouth. This tempts you to suck him faster. He closes his eyes and he nuts in your mouth. You swallow it and your mouth slowly comes off his dick. 
“Damn.” He tries to catch his breath. You giggle at him. “Did I do okay?” He looks at you, “You did better than okay. Damn.” He repeats making you laugh. “You know, you can always do more.” You smile at him. He looks at you, “You playing?” You shake your head at him, “No, I’m not playing.” You give him a slow strip tease and he looks at your bare naked body. He pulls you to him and smacks your ass. “Damn, your body is so perfect, baby girl.” You smile at the compliment, “Thank you.” He hovers over you, and you look at him, “So where do you want me?” You ask him. “On the floor.”
You lay on the floor and the next thing you know your legs are in the air and he’s eating you out with his grillz on. You feel yourself sinking into the floor, gripping his head. His tongue swirls around with your  clit. He pulls your legs on his shoulders and shakes his head in between. “Trevante, fuck.” You moan out and start caressing your breast.
 Your legs stay on his shoulders, but you feel something teasing your clit. It slides up and down and once it’s at your entrance, he pushes all of his dick inside you. You grip onto the floor as he stretches your pussy out. He is generous enough to let you adjust to his big size. Once you are comfortable, he starts deep stroking inside you. Even though you don't necessarily have to be quiet because of the loud music, you still try not to be loud. You bite your lip and look into his eyes. Mistake. This makes him fuck you even more while looking deep in your eyes. He folds your legs up to your ears and goes deeper inside you, making his curve tease your spot. 
“Deeper! Deeper!” You cry out. He smiles and begins hitting your spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe that the preacher’s son is fucking you like this. “Aye, mamas, look at it.” He groans out. You bite your lips as you watch his dick go in and out of you. Then he starts pounding and gripping your neck. Your eyes close as your body gets tingling from being close to your climax. 
“Mm, is my new favorite going to cum for me?” He teases you but confirms you’re his new favorite at Pink Paradise. You nod your head yes. He pops your thigh, causing you to gasp and exhale your moan out slowly, “Yes, yes. I’m going to cum for you. Shit.” You cuss under your breath. 
He holds your stomach down and goes deeper. You squeal as you cum on his dick. He keeps going until eventually he slows down and cums. You whine as he pulls out. He falls back on the floor as well. You two lay and stare at the ceiling as his phone goes off multiple times and one of the other girls is banging to get in the room. You sigh and giggle. 
“That was so amazing.” You admit to him. He smiles. “Yeah, it was.” You two catch your breath and he looks at his phone and laughs. You look at him, “What’s funny?” You ask, being curious. He shows you his phone. His homeboys are blowing him up. 
“Yooo, T? Where you at nigga?” 
“Trevante, if your ass is not out here in 3 seconds, you paying this bill.”
“Man, nigga is you getting some pussy? Ain’t no way you still in the back room now.”
You laugh, “Well, we should probably hurry up and get you back to your friends.” He nods as he takes the condom off and the two of you get dressed. He looks at you and bites his lip. “Say, can I get your number? This normally ain’t like me. But … it’s something about you.” You smile and look down, “Yeah, you can.”You put your number in his phone and in return, he pays you for your services. He gives you close to $1,000. You smile and thank him for the money. 
You are pretty exhausted from fucking, so you decide to go home. You go to the locker room and receive a few dirty looks, because you got Trevante all to yourself. The rest of the girls are hyping you up. You smile and thank them. You get dressed, head back to your house, and instantly run in the shower to wash the sex off your body. Afterward, you lotion up, put your pajamas on, and begin counting up your money tonight. You made $1256. You finally made four-digit money. You smile and go to your bed and lie on your silk sheets. Your phone dings. It’s an unknown number. You look at the message. 
“Hope you sleep well tonight. Definitely my new favorite lol.”
With another solid confirmation like that, you smile and sleep like a baby.
369 notes · View notes
kingminie · 9 months
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until forever falls apart | 01.
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pairing: kim taehyung, reader 
genre: angst, exes au. 
warnings: emotional cheating, infidelity, swearing, detailed smut, chain smoking as a coping mechanism.
word count: 11.8k
description: you’ve never been much of a believer in the phrase ‘first love never dies’ but it seems as if the universe badly wants to prove it to you — and you’re absolutely and royally damned the moment you find out that the phrase holds truth. 
or alternatively, you come as a stand-in photographer for your cousin’s prenup shoot and you find out that it’s your secret ex who’s about to get married, and kim taehyung really doesn’t make it any less easy for you. 
01 | ongoing.
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Love has always been easy for you — both falling into or getting out of it, but more of the latter, really. 
However, there are things about this so-called ‘love’ that you don’t quite get — will probably never get — and it leaves you in a sticky position when friends come to ask advice that roots from such a concept.
It always ends in a snotty mess and a sigh of I don’t know why I came to you for this at the end anyway. It makes you feel like shit; a clueless, ignorant, wondering piece of shit because how is it that everyone seems to have been looking at love and defining it from a single different lens with a unified perspective, and you’re stuck at seeing it from the other endpoint.
It isn’t your fault you don’t assimilate hurt with loving, is it? It isn’t your fault that you don’t expect to clean up a colossal mess every time love comes to its end. And it most certainly isn’t your fault that when love ends, you let it go. It ended, and that’s that. For you, anyway. So, why exactly, do people fault you for having such a reaction at the conclusion of a relationship?
Why does it seem to be a taboo and something that’s unheard of when a month after a relationship ends, you find yourself not grieving over a love that’s lost? When and why does it seem to have become the standard to mope and pine and cry as if acceptance and moving on is an outlawed concept right after a relationship ends?
That’s because you’re a heartless, unfeeling bastard, that’s why, as your best friend, Jungkook, so likes to put it every single time. And maybe, it is the defeat and the eventual acceptance that people will never see things in your perspective that you just roll your eyes and move on with your day. 
Love, for you, is something that ends when it ends. A wound that closes, heals. It leaves a scar, sure. You remember the hurt, yes. But the initial peak of pain wouldn’t be there again if it healed, would it.
With all that, you’ve become unsure — of what to do, of what to say, of how to act — when people lament over a lost love. Which, at this very moment, is what exactly your sister is doing. 
All tears, snot, and hiccups under your blankets. 
Sobs wrack her body in an uncontrollable shake, a vibrating mess under the sheets as you’re left to wonder what the fuck to do with your hands. But you never get the answer because she wails, head lifting from the blankets, “How could he do that to me? Six years, six years! Six years he threw away for what, a year of meaningless sex with his assistant?” 
You don’t really think it’s meaningless when dear, dear respectable Hyunwoo decides to break off the engagement, but you keep your mouth shut and continue to awkwardly pat your sister’s back. 
Your hand stills just an inch away from her back when she looks at you, wet eyes and mouth set in a downward curve, and whispers, “What should I do now?” She sniffles and you flinch. Because her goddamn snot is staining your bed but fuck, okay, you can’t think about that now, “I love him.”
You hesitate, weighing the words you’re about to speak in your head and thinking about the consequences before settling for a question, “You–you’re not thinking about giving him another shot if he asks for it, are you?” 
At this, your sister remains silent and you sigh because yes, yes she will give him a chance in one heartbeat if the bastard do so much as give her a fucking petal and a printed ‘I’m sorry’ hallmark note.
“You don’t get it.” 
Ah, there it is. 
Of course, it’s always going to come down to you not getting it. 
Maybe your sister sees it, the anger bubbling in your gaze as you glare at her, because she scrambles to sit down with her legs underneath her, knees parallel each other as she kneels on the bed facing you.
And it would have been funny, seeing your older sister like this, but the searing exasperation breaks through and you let it, mouth opening, “No, you don’t get it. See, this is not just a matter of moving the fuck on. He fucked you over, Hana, so much that there’s no amount of apology or groveling he can do to fix that. He fucked his assistant when he’s due to walk down the aisle in a year with you and if that doesn’t spell out how much respect he has for you, for our family, and you still choose to remain blind despite that, then you came to the wrong person because I won’t coddle you.” 
“I care about you,” your voice softens and you see her shoulders slump, “This is not just about my once-it-ends-then-it-ends view on relationships. Hyunwoo did an unthinkable, unforgivable thing and there’s no going back from that. I’m not letting you walk back to the person who lacks respect for a relationship, much less for you. Do you get where I’m coming from?” 
Hana nods meekly, head hanging low before you hear her sniffle once more. It hurts to see her like this and you want nothing more but to pummel the son of a bitch who did this to her, “I’m sorry.” 
You shake your head and you let out a breath, all air knocked out from your lungs when she slumps forward, arms snaking around your shoulders as she pulls you in for a tight hug, the phrase of ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ a litany on her tongue.  You squeak as her legs slither their way around you in a tight grip and she lets out a weak laugh that sounded much more like a wheeze before you push her off, feeling a wet blot on your shoulder. 
“I want to be you for a day. Not like you,” she mutters as she gets comfortable on the pillows, your pillows, “But be you entirely. I want this pain to vanish in a week and just forget about him.” 
She pauses, “Maybe after I key his car.” 
The pain doesn’t vanish, you think and tell her. “I just learned how to deal with it, Hana. And it isn’t overnight that I do it. And you will get over it too. Heal from it. Someday, one day.” 
The silence that follows is comforting, and you think she must’ve fallen asleep, just as most do after a good cry. But she hasn’t, you realize, when she rolls over once more and speaks in a quiet voice, “The way you are right now,” she pauses, only continuing when you give her a nod, “is it because of him?”
There are only a handful of people that could fit about who she means, you know that, but you refuse to speak of any of them and opt to ask her a question instead, “Which way that I am exactly are you referring to?” 
“The closed-off you,” Hana replies, a soft tilt to her words, “I had a theory, you know, that you moved on so fast from the relationships you had after because you were never really invested in the people after him. That he broke you, enough for you to place that, whatever you have around your heart that doesn’t allow people to hurt you. You love other people, but you never really allow them to love you as much because of it which makes detachment and parting easier when it ends.” 
You don’t really mean to, but the words Hana speaks are like a vacuum, drawing you into a place you’ve managed to tuck away in the very back of your mind. Memories rush in and you drown in it — of honey blond hair, rectangle smiles, and skin that smelled of oakmoss and jasmine. 
“Am I right?” 
You let out a laugh as you nudge a pillow towards your sister, “You and your unending theories. No, Hana. It’s not because of anyone in particular. This is just how I am, how I think. It’s just unfortunate that it's only the minority that shares the same sentiments as I do.” 
Hana looks as if she’d try to refute before deciding against it, groaning when her phone rings and you raise an eyebrow because who in hell would be calling her at midnight. She shakes her head, twisting the phone around so you can see who’s calling and you see the word Studio and you shrug before she takes the call, only hearing snippets of the conversation and it seems as if it's about work. 
Hana owns a photography studio — a hobby turned business venture with her friends. Your parents were against it initially, deeming it a ‘not suitable’ business for Hana, but your older sister is a head-strong bull and proceeded with her plans without a single support from your parents and of course, because she’s Hana Park, she can make anything succeed if she puts her mind to it. 
“—yeah, you goof, I’ll be right there, don’t worry. Why are you so stressed about this anyway, is this your secret wedding or something?” You lie closer to your sister and she mouths ‘Jimin’ before returning to picking her nails, “I get it, okay. Stop freaking out, I promise to be there tomorrow. M’kay, bye.” 
She heaves a dragged-out, exaggerated sigh just as she tosses her phone on the bed where it bounced, “You know, I’d assume it’s our dear brother’s prenuptial photoshoot tomorrow with the way he’s freaking out over the details. I’d actually think that if I didn’t know of him and his single ass and his emotional attachment to his bachelor title.” 
“It’s Sunday tomorrow, and you’re booked because of that phone call,” You list, “So I can only assume Jimin knows one of them and used his connections to book your exclusive ass into working on a Sunday.” 
Hana laughs, “You’re not wrong. Soyeon made the reservation for November, which is like, a month from now. Jimin moved it for tomorrow in such a rush last week for reasons I don’t know why.” 
“Soyeon?” You gasp, eyes going wide, “You’re not talking about Yang Soyeon, are you? Oh my god, how did I not know about this?”
Your sister snorts, ungraceful and loud, “Who would have expected for the youngest cousin in the family to be the first one to be wed, huh? Date’s set for April next year and I don’t even know who she’s marrying,” But she pauses and a frown mars her features, “I would’ve been the first one to walk the aisle and yet, here I am.” 
Wait. 
“Hana,” you start, “aren’t you meeting Hyunwoo’s parents tomorrow for brunch? To formally call off the wedding? Isn’t that what you came here for tonight, because you were having second thoughts of actually calling it off tomorrow?”
You see the realization dawn upon her, her eyes widening in recognition of the planned confrontation, her mouth dropping to a comical shape of the letter ‘o’ before she sits up so fast you actually ask if her back’s okay and you hear the frantic hits of her nails against the glass of her phone, the worry leaking thickly in her voice as she speaks to multiple people, all of which ending in a frustrated sigh and groan from your older sister. 
“Fuck!” she screams as she disconnects from a call once more, “I can’t find anyone to replace me, everyone’s either booked already or have plans for tomorrow. Fuck, shit, I’m screwed. Jimin’s going to kill me. No photographer’s available tomorrow, what am I going to do now, I—you.”
You still, nailed in place by her stare, “Fuck are you looking at me for?” 
It’s in this moment you feel the doom coming down on you from all the corners of the universe when Hana smiles, actually feeling it that you shiver. She picks up the phone, calls Jimin, asks if 10 o’clock is okay for everyone to gather tomorrow, kisses your cheek good night. 
Kiss of fucking death, you feel like. 
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You’re never a morning person — nor do you have plans to become one — and you aren’t used to being awakened by a goddamn wet, slimy tongue licking your face all over. 
Hana’s laugh echoes around your room, followed by hushed good job from her and a shrill bark from her dog (you really did not know how Orion arrived here when the dog wasn’t even here last night), and you are never one to have thoughts of murder so early in the morning but your family has really been testing your limits. But then you remember that you willingly handed over to Hana the passcode to your apartment, something for emergencies and shit like that, but of course, she took it as an invitation to come and go as she pleases. 
Fortunately, she cleans up after Orion’s mess, thank god. 
Rolling over, you prepare to squint as protection against the glare of the sun since Hana had already pulled back the curtains, but you sit up at the lack of the sun’s intrusion into your eyes and see that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. The city that you can see through the glass window is quiet, still in deep sleep. As you should be just before Hana woke you up. 
“Dad’s going to have a fit when I tell him what you’re blackmailing me to do,” you groan, falling back on your pillow, “I’m running his business and here you are making me take photos of people Dad hates, well, by extension.”
Hana does nothing but flash you a grin, “You’re the only one I can trust to be on par with my skills, honey. Besides, I already have Dad booked in the freaking out area ‘cause you know, I’m a bachelorette now.”
You roll your eyes and you move off your bed, making it neat and tidy to which Hana scoffs before grabbing the mug of cold coffee right from her hands and chugging it all down. Looks like you’ll need more than a cup with what you’re going to be faced with today. 
“Is Jimin coming? My car’s in the mechanic, I’m getting it tomorrow.”
Hana nods before telling you just how far Jimin is from your apartment, “About Jimin, actually.” Your sister trails off and you feel an oncoming headache because of course, there’s more. 
“I didn't exactly tell him I can’t make it today so I’m trusting you to, um, calm him down when he freaks? He’s only weak to your charms and absolutely immune to mine.” 
Turns out a little while after that, Jimin’s absolutely immune to the both of you. Especially you.
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“No, what the fuck. What—no.” 
Jimin stands frozen, fingers gripping the edges of the kitchen island. His eyes are wide, mouth open in disbelief as he listens to Hana’s explanations of why she can’t go today, her eyes flashing as if to call you for help but you only shrug because there’s really nothing you can do to help her out of this. She made her own bed, might as well let her lie in it. 
It irks you quite a bit though when Jimin starts to become unreasonable despite Hana’s crystal clear explanation as to why she’s unavailable today, and on a typical day, you know Jimin would understand, and would easily let it go because obviously, Hana’s life matters take precedence over a photoshoot that can be scheduled on a different day. Jimin today, however, is extra adamant on not having you take over the shoot and it might have very, just very slightly struck the wrong nerve in you.
“You know, Jimin, if this is a matter of your trust in my abilities, I’d gladly back out of this. I’m doing this as a favor to Hana, I’m not here to help you,” you quip, tight and low as you regard the both of them, “So, if you refuse to accept my help, then call your friend to find another photographer, better yet schedule another one with Hana.”
Hana starts to protest but Jimin shakes his head, turns to you with soft eyes and a pouting set of lips, “I’m sorry, that came off wrong. Really wrong. I swear I wasn’t trying to undermine your abilities, nor am I saying that there is anything to undermine because you’re good as shit at this, maybe even better than Hana, it’s just that—”
He cuts off his ramble mid-sentence as if to catch himself — to keep from spilling whatever his reservation about you being the stand-in for Hana, which you don’t really know what. 
Three things about Jimin are these: he rambles when he’s extremely nervous, fidgets with his thumbs when he’s scared, and refuses to make any eye contact if he believes he’s done something wrong. It’s always one of the three when it comes to him and never altogether. And yet, he stands in front of you, doing all three simultaneously and your heart plummets to the marble flooring beneath you because what is he so scared of, really, to be like this in front of you. 
“Look, if you don’t want me to do this, that’s okay,” You start to speak and Jimin turns to you and opens his mouth to speak when you shake your head. You aren’t finished speaking, “That is, if you have an alternative, if Soyeon agrees to reschedule, I’m sure Hana can fit them right in some other time—” You give a pointed look at your sister who rolls her eyes but nods, “—but if they don’t, you have no choice, Jimin. Unless you want to take the photos yourself.”
Jimin lets out a breath, agrees, and proceeds to call whoever he needs to and converses in a low tone that isn’t discernible to you, but Hana can hear and your eyebrows furrow in concern when her head turns so fast towards Jimin’s direction, panic clear-cut in her eyes as she picks up on whatever it is that Jimin is saying. She curses under her breath, turns ghostly pale before she pulls Jimin into one of the guest rooms, leaving you to your thoughts and your second cup of coffee. 
“You kept this?”
It’s a good three minutes after that Jimin’s voice pulls you out of your trance — your attention previously held by the large black ant that is now on top of an apple. You turn and your breath hitches at the rough sketch of the overly-familiar Pomeranian in his right hand. You shrug, “Jungkook must have left it there when he came over.” 
At this, Jimin raises his eyebrows. Stares at the picture a little bit too long before putting it back in place, under Jungkook’s purple-pink painting of a sunset, to the right of Jimin’s present two years before. He then looks at you, really looks at you, that you become unnerved enough to look away and pretend to busy yourself with some imaginary dust on the counter. 
You know. You know how the framed sketch is too clean, too in place, and too taken care of to be something that your best friend accidentally left behind. And you know Jimin knows this too with the way his eyes turn to you and you fear. Fear that pity would be reflected in them and so you stand abruptly, deaf to the frantic calls of Hana and you head straight to the building basement and settle comfortably on the passenger seat of Jimin’s car. 
You ran because you’re a coward — afraid to face questions you know you have no answers to.
Jimin enters not a minute later, silent and mum, but the silent looks your sibling keeps giving you is not something you miss no matter how discreet he tries to be about it. You brush it off though, citing the tense atmosphere to be the reason he’s doing so. 
But little do you know that this is the first of the many mistakes you will be making — the tiniest among all others.
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The theme is simple. Glamour, editorial-esque Vogue-spread motif. Fit for the rich. Something that exudes elegance and opulence. Classy, simple, and elegant. You nod as you skim through the print-out Hana rushes to get to you through one of her employees, one hand busy writing ideas and suggestions. 
It warms your heart that despite all the things Hana has to face today, she hasn’t failed to make everything easier for you, as she always does. And everything’s in accordance, just as they should be. That is, except for one, someone. Jimin really cannot stop himself from shaking and you actually fear the poor boy is turning into a leaf, dancing in the wind, with how he physically cannot stop himself from moving. 
You’ve had enough of it — his nervous fidgeting, the frantic scan of his eyes among the crowd, the unending bounce of his knees — so you move to approach him, just in time to pluck out the cigarette he’s about to light in his hand and he jumps, “Minie, you’re making me nervous here. I’ve seen you nervous but it’s never been this bad.” 
Jimin looks at you and your chest constricts at the face he’s making. A beat, two beats before he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry.”
You think of the exchange back at your apartment, the one where it came off as if he had no faith in you as Hana’s substitute and you let out a small laugh. You know Jimin would never think that. Flicking his chin, you shake your head, “It was me who took your words the wrong way, Min. You don’t need to apologize.”
He looks as if he wants to say more but a car pulls up, red and ostentatious with the way the roof is folded down, and you grin as you see your cousin, a matching upward curve to her lips. 
It isn’t new, really, when you catch sight of her hair — beautiful shades of cotton candy pink and pastel blue glinting under the sun. 
Beautiful, daring Soyeon, the darling of the Yangs. 
You nearly meet your end, though, that day if it isn’t for Jimin cursing and pulling you back when Soyeon isn’t able to stop her car at the designated yellow parking line and she too squeaks a wheeze when she steps on the brakes. The car comes to a stop, and you see her breath does too, before she throws her head back and laughs. 
“You’re fucking crazy.”
She sticks out her tongue before she jumps over the door, her flimsy taupe pants billowing after her. You only manage to let out a yelp of protest before she has you and Jimin in a bone-crushing hug and you feel your chest rasp to get some air in when she squeezes once more before finally letting go. 
“This is a two-people marriage we’re having today, right? You’re not marrying yourself here?” You ask and laugh as she rolls her eyes. It’s definitely her thing and it wouldn’t be a surprise if she did. “I didn’t even know you were in a relationship and now you’re getting married?”
She shrugs, a wide smile still on her lips, “It just happened,” Her eyebrows furrow when she looks over at Jimin who’s uncharacteristically silent and nudges him, “I still won’t forgive you. I know my groom’s your best friend but it doesn’t really give you a free-pass to have him here at six in the morning to get you coffee. Who does that?”
You don’t really hear what Jimin has to say to her because you’re bidding your goodbye to them both when one of Hana’s assistants — the one she had assigned to brief you over all the details of today’s shoot — pulls you from the conversation, apology written all over her face at the thought of interrupting you but as soon as she open her mouth to speak, you dismiss it with an its okay and you signal for her to go ahead. 
“This is the final list of the concepts Hana had brainstormed which one of the client is yet to choose from,” she hands you a thin stack of paper, a portfolio sandwiched between two clear binding covers, “The bride has already chosen the concepts she wants that are to be included for today’s shoot, so, all that's left is to hand the checklist to the groom for the shoot next week.”
Nodding, you skim through the portfolio and shit, it’s definitely good. 
You’re whisked away towards the building, directed towards the seventh floor of the rented building in which you’re told Soyeon’s groom is, handpicking his outfits for the day. 
You give the door a knock, hearing a bustle of people talking on the other side of the door, and when no one answers, you push the door open. You’re immediately greeted by a flurry of people walking back and forth, all of them either with stacks of paper in their arms or Brioni and Gucci suits in tow. 
It’s a mess, a downright mess you want to run from because you haven’t ingested enough coffee to face this. 
Which is exactly why you nearly cry when someone steps in front of you, a neat smile in place and a large cup of iced coffee in one hand, a hand extending towards you, “You look like you need this.” 
He tilts his head once, gesturing inside the room, “I’m Yoongi, Min Yoongi. Jimin texted me earlier that his other sister is standing in for Hana and I assume that’s you.” 
Something feels vaguely familiar about Min Yoongi and you list it off as a passing name Jimin had mentioned in the stories he had told you. 
“There’s a meeting room on the very far left, grumpy groom’s there,” Yoongi smiles, “Nice meeting you, um—”
“(Y/N). My name’s (Y/N), nice to meet you too, Yoongi.”
You think as you walk that there’s no point in going over next week’s concept today since Hana can already make it by the next photoshoot and she would’ve understand better the dynamics of it all if they talk then, but okay, since you’re already here, might as well help all the way. 
Through the frosted glass of the meeting room, you see a silhouette, tall and broad. You have never been a people-person and meeting new ones really isn’t your strong point so you take three deep breaths, hand tightening on the cup of coffee Yoongi handed you, before pushing the glass door open. 
“Hi, I’m sorry I ran a bit late. It’s—” 
And you stop. 
You stop because you suddenly can’t feel the cold cup slipping from your grip. You stop because you feel the liquid pool at the very bottom of your shoes, sticky and wet and messy. You stop because you can’t breathe. You stop because your heart fucking stops too at the sight of Kim Taehyung. 
Beautiful, dazzling Kim Taehyung. 
First boyfriend, first love, now ex-lover, Kim Taehyung. 
Soyeon’s groom and soon-to-be husband, Kim Taehyung.
“Everything okay here?” Yoongi. You hear his footsteps behind you before you see him and you can’t be thankful enough at the interference that’s very much needed. 
But you allow yourself to be pathetic, just as you always are around Kim Taehyung. And because you can’t help it, frankly, when your eyes meet his and all sense that is good and common jumps out the window behind him. Because he looks fucking beautiful — him and his honey hair that’s now framing his face, a little bit longer, lighter. Because the room reeks of him, jasmine, vanilla, and oakmoss and it consumes you. The part of you that, despite it all, still longs for the Kim Taehyung from four years past.
On a good day and you meet him once more, you think you would have laughed. A fake smile and a head held high would’ve done it in front of him. But all it takes is one look now. One look, at the time when all your defenses are down, for the self-imposed chain that blocks it all to break and give, a domino effect in your mind as it all comes back; the whirlwind of feelings and emotions that the calamity of him brings forth. 
You nod, feeling the light touch of Yoongi’s fingers around your arm, and you anchor yourself with it. Pull yourself from drowning in him once more. “Yeah, sorry,” You breathe, “It slipped. I’m really sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll have someone take care of it, don’t worry,” Yoongi waves you off when you bend down to start cleaning up your mess, nods toward Taehyung, “Go on, he gets grumpy if he’s left to wait.” 
Oh, you know. 
So, you do. 
You drag your legs to where Taehyung stands, feeling like you’re hauling wet logs for limbs. It’s silent, save for the sound of Yoongi’s shoes against the floor as he kicks at the fallen blocks of ice, and maybe, he takes the silence for Taehyung’s bout of pettiness because he hisses a quiet behave before he walks out. The silence becomes even more suffocating when now it’s just you and Taehyung. 
“So—”
“I—”
You shut your mouth when he speaks at the same time as you. 
You decide, though, to continue because you’re here for one thing and that one thing entails that you have something to say to him. But he doesn’t, he shouldn’t. 
“So, let’s talk about concepts. I’ve been told that Soyeon has already chosen the ones for today — for both your individual and couple shots, and you get to choose the ones for the shoot with Hana next week. Here,” you slide the portfolio across the table, taking a seat across his own without waiting for him, “Hana already made an outline for everything so, this, is basically a checklist you just have to choose from and—”
“How are you?” 
“—I’m just going to wait until you’re done filling them out so I can bring them back and start with—”
“(Y/N).” You finally look at him then and you look away the second you do because you’re trying so hard to keep yourself whole and you feel like one second more in his gaze and you’ll fall apart, “I’m sorry.” 
And you try. God, you try so hard to repress the tiny, evil voice that pushes you to throw reason out the window. But it comes out anyway, and there’s no stopping what flows out of your mouth after, “Why,” you laugh, “Sorry because you wouldn't have chosen Hana's studio if you knew I was the one to take your photos? Or sorry because you had my brother acting like a train wreck just to keep this from me? Don’t worry I won’t be here next week.” 
His face pinches, tongue rolling out to wet his lips, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then don’t apologize to me—” you grit, fists clenched and heart thundering, “—as if you assumed that seeing you has put me in a position that hurt me. Because it really doesn’t. Not anymore, Taehyung. So if you have anything to apologize for—” 
You cut yourself off because no, no he has nothing to apologize for. He doesn’t have to say sorry. One person deciding to walk out of a relationship doesn’t warrant an apology from them. An explanation, sure, but you don’t really need it from him. He made it clear enough all those years ago just before he slammed the door of your apartment shut that he just didn’t love you enough — not anymore then. 
It’s been four years. It’s been four long years and you should be over him — and you are, you’re certain that you are. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt because it does, fuck, it still hurts so much and you don’t know why. 
“—apologize to Jimin because I just know he feels like shit for lying to me because of you.” 
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You commit your second mistake that same day in the middle of shooting Taehyung’s individual photos. Soyeon had gone for a nature theme this time and so you find yourself in the middle of the forest with a near-naked Taehyung in tow and thank heavens it rains because one more glimpse through the viewfinder at his well-oiled torso and you might have combust and run away from the photoshoot, Hana’s reputation be damned. 
Jimin seems to be attached to you now, becoming a human magnet not long after he had apologized so much he knelt, snuggling to your side every chance he gets that it’s suffocating you because he’s overcompensating but you don’t really have the heart to call him out. Not when he looks like a puppy whose tail got accidentally stepped on when you get around to even do so much as try. 
So, you let him become your shadow for the time being, finally letting out a huge breath of relief when lunch time comes around and everybody takes a break and you slip past him to the very back of the dilapidated cabin you stumbled upon just before the last shoot ended, not too deep into the forest that faces the river. 
Finally, you think, as you savor the peace, even though momentary. You’re glad to be away from the commotion and it makes you realize once more why you choose to be cooped up in an office. It’s because you really can’t handle this many people and it physically and emotionally drains you that you can’t think.
You pause when you reach into your pockets, the gritty warning from Hana and Jimin an alarm ricocheting in your mind how it’s an unhealthy habit and it’s going to fucking ruin you someday. But the short-lived guilt is replaced by justifications of how it’ll be a free-pass and your siblings can fuck off because they’re the reason you’re here in the first place. 
Besides, burning through one stick won’t hurt them if they don't know. 
So you let your fingers feel for the familiar leather case, pull the only stick inside and you’re so, so close to reaching your sweet release from this damned mental pressure when you realize you left your lighter at home. Letting out a curse, you clamp your mouth around the unlit cigarette, letting it hang and opting to indulge in its semi-sweet smell that goes so well with the rain. 
“Want a light?”
You still, the cigarette falling from your lips at the sudden fright. Down, down, and down until it’s washed away by the rain. What a waste, you lament. Sighing, you turn and see Taehyung who’s sporting a sheepish smile, the same familiar white in between his own mouth, lit unlike yours, “I’d accept, but there’s really nothing that needs lighting anymore.”
He has a shirt on now, you notice, flimsy and buttoned up halfway. His hair is tousled messily, now free from the rigid form it previously had, and you give him your back when you feel the urge to fix the fraction of hair that has fallen forward. You hear him take a drag and you smell before you see the tendrils of gray smoke when he releases and god, the small whiff, even in the tiniest fume, has your shoulder relaxing. 
“I’d offer one but I don’t have any spare with me,” you hear him say before you feel him move, “I’ll get the fallen one for you, if you want.”
You roll your eyes and wave him off before you see him lean against the other column, the change in position means that he’s now closer, closer than he’s ever been since the day you last saw him, years ago. And he’s close enough that the thin material of his shirt brushes against your hoodie when the wind moves. And you want to move too, only if it isn’t for the fact that one move and you’ll either fall into the river or be skewered by the worn down wood and you don’t really feel like dying today. 
Ironic, how you went for a smoke break to relieve the stress of the day, only to have it doubled. 
Now, this is where you make the second mistake. 
Because you really don’t mean to stare at Taehyung. You don’t mean to let your stare at his mouth linger a second too long that he sees.  It’s just unfortunate that the cigarette is in his mouth, and you stay fixated on the damn cigarette that you fail to see him catch your gaze and hold it. 
It’s unfortunate that you don’t take a step back when he takes one step forward. 
It’s unfortunate that you become pliant when his cold fingers softly grip your chin, coaxing your mouth to open and welcome the smoke that he blows from his own mouth, hot and intoxicating and tinged with the memories of all the nights past that he’s done this. 
It’s unfortunate that you take a long drag when he places the soft end of the cigarette from his mouth to yours, unhesitating and eager. 
“Feeling better?” He asks, gentle as he pulls the stick, planting it back to the hold of his mouth. You see a slight upward curve at the corners of it. 
This is bad. Wrong and unacceptable and absolutely inappropriate, you know. But you can’t help but accept when he offers one more drag, an offer of release. This time you pluck it out from his fingers, feel the warmth of him around the smoke, and inhale. 
It’s only when the embers die out that you feel it, the heavy feeling coming back tenfold as you realize the gravity of what you just did. Not for anyone else, but for you. The toll this will have on you when you go home and have all the time in the world to think about your stupidity. So before you get sucked into the void of self-destruction, you excuse yourself, not caring about the delicate drops of rain that fall but not before you turn back and shout your thanks. 
“Okay, you shared a smoke, so what,” you mutter to yourself as you dry yourself off. You’re two people who share a history, a history that’s now dead and gone. A flame that was once bright but has now burned out, never to be rekindled again. 
You enter the building with thoughts of rationalization that tries to justify what you’ve done as something harmless, clouding your mind enough that you don’t see Jimin barrel towards you with a smile on his face, only to be replaced with disgust when he breathes and chokes at the ghost of smoke that clings to your clothes. 
He rummages through a nearby luggage and returns with a bottle of perfume, “If you want your head still attached to your shoulders by tonight, you’d know better and douse yourself in that shit because Hana’s here to take over and you only have two minutes to shove Listerine down your throat before she finds you.” 
In the haste of trying to avert your sister’s wrath, you damn near shower the entire contents of the bottle, only to realize that night when you come home that despite the endless showers you take, you still smell like him. Because of all people, Jimin just had to take from Taehyung’s things and now you’re doused with him all over again. 
It’s later that night that you’ll fall asleep to the smell of jasmine and vanilla despite years of trying so hard to rid your apartment of any scents. 
Of any trace of Kim Taehyung.
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The third and fourth mistake, you make five days later. A Friday that you’re miraculously off work early. Well, technically, you can get off whenever you want but as the faithful, loving, and overworking youngest child that you are, you’ve assimilated longer hours at your father’s company to productivity and so you’ve never really found reason to clock off early when you can do so much more if you stay a bit later than most.
Besides, the company won’t run by itself, so there’s that. 
Now, though, you wonder why you thought like that because as you walk down the street, everything looks divine. The setting sun settles on the horizon, sandwiched between two skyscrapers, bleeding purple and orange and pink and it’s breathtaking. Painfully so. For the first time, you indulge yourself in the sounds of the busy city and for a change, it’s peaceful despite the loudness. You can’t remember the last time you took a stroll like this, having been so immersed in work. The last time you walked down the street the like had been years ago, with—
The breath you take is sharp and sudden that it has you bent over on the sidewalk, coughing and wheezing your lungs out that people start to look. You flash a smile, sending a quick thanks to your sister’s ex-lover for choosing to establish the studio within a five-minute walk from the company building, and nearly combusting on the spot when you pull their glass door that clearly says push right after you nearly heave your lungs out from climbing 10 sets of stairs because the elevator isn’t working, coincidentally.  
“Hey,” you greet the people on the lounge before specifically turning to Younha — the one who had walked you through everything on the previous shoot, “Is Hana here? I have the initial photos ready if she wants to see. Played around and edited most of them.”
Younha looks sheepish as she raises her hand to her nape where she nervously scratches, “About that,” she grimaces, “Hana phoned earlier that she’s running a bit late tonight so she told me to look over the photos and pick the final ones with the client, but I don’t trust myself enough to do that just yet, so would it be okay if we go through it together?” 
You assure her it’s okay. And really, it is, because you’ve finished work anyway and it’s a Saturday tomorrow. You can afford to be late an hour or so. You watch her plug the USB on one of the computers lined up against the wall, see her gasp when she pulls up the photos. 
“Oh my god, these are beautiful. You’re telling me you shot each of these by yourself, edited them all on your own, all in less than a week,” Younha turns to you, eyes wide, “Can’t you come and work with us?”
You laugh, genuine and loud, “The raw files were already beautiful untouched. Just touched up some lighting here and there.”
“Yeah, and who took those raw shots, hm? Who coordinated every single thing that resulted in those shots looking like that? You, that’s who,” Younha seems to realize who she’s talking to and she blushes before muttering something else you can’t hear, “Also, about Hana—” 
Uh-oh. This can’t be good.
“—so she told me earlier if I can pick out the final photos with the client, right? And since you’re here,” Younha trails off and you still there is no way, no way that you’re going to sit hours dissecting each photo with Soyeon, worse if it’s Taehyung. You have your pride and you’ll cling to that even if it’s the last thing you do in this world.
No way in hell. “Hana’s on her way here, right? I think she can make it.”
Younha nods, a low hum before she answers, “She can. In two hours. Maybe. Not sure. Our client, however—” She tilts her head to the right. Towards the direction of Hana’s office. “—is here.”
It’s a sigh of defeat you let out. Walking away from here means you admit you’re a coward, walking in Hana’s office will mean you’re weak. See, it’s always a lose-lose thing for you everytime a certain Kim is involved. The very, and only, Kim who seems to be haunting every part of your daily life the past five days. Or in this current case, a future Kim but a Kim nonetheless. 
Younha smiles, the sly fox, when you place your bag back down on the table, “If I’m going to stay here for the night, might as well ask for coffee. Lots and lots of it.”
You only barely get the full sentence out but Younha is already on her heels with a mock salute.
You push the door to Hana’s office, making sure (twice) not to pull this time, and your eyes land on Kim Taehyung whose eyebrows rise in surprise upon seeing you. If he thinks you’re meaning to keep on meeting him like this, well, he’s wrong. The universe likes to spring surprises down your path of life and it just so happens that for now, Kim Taehyung might be its play thing — to torment you with, most probably. 
He sits on the couch that rests against the white wall, beside the windows that occupy the whole one side of the room that overlooks the city. Hana’s office is more like her office and a miniature studio, exclusive for her and whoever she decides to let in here, separate from the lounge and the main studio. It’s an industrial loft, made modern and more suited to her taste and it’s just so goddamn bright in here, you realize.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you mutter as the door clicks shut behind you. 
You head straight to Hana’s computer, turning it on and plugging the USB before you plop down on the office chair. “I had the photos with me and I dropped by to leave it for Hana but she apparently has things to attend to for the next two hours and you’re here already so, yeah.”
Taehyung only nods, silent and awkward when he stands. 
You sigh, “Grab a chair and come here, I guess. We have, like, a thousand photos to sift through. See if you’d like any changes done to them. The earlier we finish, the better.”
Three hours pass after that and you’re left with no Hana in sight, 325 file numbers listed down, a faint headache and tired eyes, a hungry stomach, and three accidental brushes of Taehyung’s hair on your cheek because what before is a ruler-long distance between the two of you has been reduced to mere centimeters, and Jesus Christ, you don’t know who moved between the two of you that it has come to such. You’re firm to say it isn’t you because your ass remains frozen, stiff as a board everytime Taehyung does so much as inhale. 
“Can you—” Taehyung clears his throat, pointing to the keyboard, “—move to the next one, please.”
You mutter an apology, pressing the right arrow and you see the photo move. Frankly, you aren’t paying attention. Not to anything, least of all the photos. It’ll be like knocking consciously on Hell’s door if you do pay attention. 
Because you can take being around Taehyung, you can easily detach yourself from reality when you are — and not feel anything, to look at him alone and think of him as an ex-friend, an ex-lover without the rest of the titles attached. But to look at the photos, the pictures you took, there’s no detaching from that reality. The reality that the man you had feelings for — might still have feelings for, but you push that thought back — is getting married, of all things. 
And you list this off as feeling weird, an ex marrying a cousin. You aren’t jealous, god, no. It’s just that — weird. Well, you think. 
“Okay, I can’t take this anymore,” Taehyung breathes and you still, unmoving as the statue on the corner of the room, “I’m going to order Chinese. I’m not going to last the rest of these photos if I don’t eat. Anything you want?” 
He might as well have slammed the mouse he’s holding with the way he casually lets it fall off from his hand to the table, leaning back on his chair and oh god, his head is leaning on the back of your chair. One move of your shoulder and the back of it will touch the side of his head. He has his phone over his head, elbows hanging in the air as he opens his phone with a click. He hums as he scrolls and this is so, so painfully domestic that you struggle to breathe. 
It’s been push and pull the whole night. He asks, you answer, and never the other way. 
Fifteen minutes that you’re plunged in deafening silence and you punch the air in your mind when Younha knocks, take-away bags at hand and a smile on her face. 
Taehyung hands you your food, places the utensils in neat order, pokes the straw through your bubble tea and gently places it in front of you and you stare. You stare because never in your life did you ever think you and Taehyung would ever be in this situation. Toeing around each other, walking on eggshells. 
There had been a time that silence wasn’t an option — it’s either you filled the quiet or he did; mouths off about Pokemon and stickers and dogs he met on a certain day, or silence filled with wordless communication through flesh and skin and heavy breaths. 
Never this — a fragile silence that no words could ever fill. But of course, Taehyung knows how to break that. Break you when he speaks, “I think we’ll have this one framed for the reception.”
You blink at the photo on the monitor, big and taunting. In it, Taehyung smiles, a wide rectangle stretch of his mouth as his chin rests on top of Soyeon’s head, the latter leaning her weight on Taehyung. It’s evident, palpable even, the happiness that’s shared between them. A running joke between the two of them captured on a permanent photograph only they can understand. 
“Yeah,” you nod, a smile, or an attempt at it, stretching your lips, “it’s beautiful. Definitely worthy for the reception. You can hang it in your home after.”
It’s an instinct – you’d like to believe so – when you feel Taehyung move beside you and you mindlessly mirror him, freezing the moment you take in the miniscule space that’s left as you both huddle to look at the monitor. A good couple inches you can count on one hand. And you refuse to move away because no, this is not at all affecting you. And it’s Taehyung, you justify, who’s currently invading your space. 
The third mistake is when you try to steal a glance at the corner of your eye because you think he’s engrossed with the picture. 
But then you see that he isn’t. Not when his stare locks with yours the moment your eyes move.  Had been on you all this time. 
The fourth is when he moves and you don’t. 
Not when his thumb brushes the corner of your mouth to wipe whatever it is he sees there. 
Not when he flashes you a smile – something so fond and warm and tender that renders you mute. 
Not when he succumbs to sleep an hour later, head lolling on your shoulder.
But the entire world moves when he stirs and the overhead lights hit something golden. It crumbles and caves beneath your feet when a locket falls out of the top of his loosely buttoned shirt. An identical locket to the one that now sits heavy on your chest – once heavy with the broken promises, but now empty of the love that first came with it.
You see his forehead wrinkle as he slowly wakes and you feel the start of the burn that first settles on your chest before it moves and starts from the corners of your eyes. You train your eyes on the monitor, fingers clicking away on the mouse and the keyboard faster than ever.
“I’m sorry,” you hear him say. His head stays on your shoulder as he speaks. “What time is it?” 
“Quarter before ten—”
“I missed you,” he breathes and you hear him let out a soft laugh before he whispers, “I always miss you.”
It feels as if all the air in your lungs has been knocked out and you turn to speak when you see that he’s fallen back asleep. And god, you wanted to shout at him, let out the years of pent up frustration and grudge you’ve had all these past years and ask all the unanswered whys and hows. But looking at him now, after so, so long, you realize you do too. 
A tear drops and a multitude of realizations follow. 
You missed him. You missed him. You miss him. 
And fuck, you’re still in love with him, you realize. So much and enough to make you not think of the consequences of the realization that you do.
Not when his fiancée finally comes and places a chaste kiss on his lips.
Not when a wedding invitation lands itself on the desk towards you.
And especially not when the ghost of him lingers when they’re gone and you find yourself praying for it to stay just a little bit longer.
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You did not plan for your Friday night to be like this at all. 
The initial – and final – plan was this: show up to the club your sister wanted you to show up to, make it look like you’re genuinely happy to be there, flee the moment midnight hits when your sister and her friends are too drunk to realize you aren’t there anymore, and sleep away in the solace your tranquil and quiet apartment offers. 
The night and plan had been going well, much to your delight. 
Just until the fleeing part, that is. Because the moment you press the unlock button to your car half past one in the morning, you see a very drunk Kim Taehyung eagle spread on the hood of your car, with only a rumpled halfway-buttoned shirt that’s tucked into his pants, one of his shoes already on the roof of the Mercedes. 
And so instead of proceeding to the sleeping part of your plan, here you are now, struggling under the weight of Taehyung as you try to push in all his limbs in the passenger seat because he refuses to go away. Why, of all people, must you be the one to find him like this? Other people would’ve paid no mind leaving him on the pavement but of course, the universe had to make sure it just had to be you because old, cruel fate had it out for you and your demise.
Two weeks spent in isolation from the rest of the world in an attempt to justify and get over the realization you had of still being in love with an ex and the world just dumps him in the hood of your car of all cars. 
“Kim Taehyung, I am not above violence, I will fucking knock you out if I have to if you step your foot out and kick me once more, for the love of god,” you heave, “Are you with Jimin?”
At this, he grins and nods, eyes half-closed, “Jimin went home. I think. Or wait, maybe he’s passed out in Yoongi’s tub. I think. I don’t know, do you think he’s still here? Wait, do you know Jimin? How do you know Jimin?” 
You sigh, “Give me your phone. I’ll get Soyeon to pick your ass up.”
Taehyung lets out a loud gasp, proceeds to choke on air before he looks up at you, “How do you know my girlfriend?” 
You pause for a second before rolling your eyes, “Phone.”
“It’s in my left pocket, can you get it for me? I’m so tired,” he whines, wincing as his head lands on the head rest. You reach over to pull his phone out, only to retrieve a pack of cigarettes but no phone. You freeze when his hand grips your wrist that’s still in his pocket, feeling your heartbeat in your ears when he leans forward, so close that you feel his breath on your cheek, “Butt pocket, sorry.” 
You take a deep breath as he continues to look at you with a grin. You move closer, angling your head away because you would be fucking cheek-to-cheek if you don’t and you pause just before you touch his back pocket, “No, you know what, you can get it yourself. Either that or I leave you out here on the streets.” 
Taehyung pouts but he moves his arm behind him nonetheless, proceeds to feel his other pocket when he finds the first one empty.
“My phone’s gone,” he huffs, “Oh! It’s in Minnie’s car!”
You let out a loud groan, rounding the car to open the driver’s side to look for your bag so you could use your phone and you let out another sound of frustration, louder this time, when you remember the picture of a beige bag being left underneath your couch’s pillow. You look over at Taehyung, a war in your head as to what to do with him, before you finally settle on the choice that you never, ever think you would’ve made. 
“Fine,” you grit as you turn the engine on, “I’m going to drop you off your house but I’m not gonna be held accountable for the reasons you’re going to have to explain to your girlfriend if she greets your drunk ass as to why the fuck her cousin’s dropping her fiance off, alright? Now, are you still staying in the same apartment ‘cause I’m going to drop you–”
Taehyung snores, body folding in on himself as he slightly shivers. You sigh, dropping your forehead on the steering wheel, enough to hurt and make the horn whine, “This is fucking unbelievable. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Hey, Taehyung,” you shake him, poking his shoulders the way you know he hates, “Wake up and tell me your address, asshole. I’m not driving to the other side of the city only to find out you changed address. Hey.” 
He makes the tiniest wave of his arm before he goes back to sleep. 
You glance at the clock that says it’s now nearing three in the morning and you run your hands over your face because fuck this. 
Now, you head to your apartment with the plan of just dumping Taehyung in the foyer and letting him sleep there until he has his mind back in the morning – you figure he’d probably run off the minute he wakes up. 
“Hey, wake up.” You nudge him when you arrive and you sigh once more as he merely stirs, opening his side of the door before attempting to move out of the car only to heave when the seatbelt he still has on pulls him back.
With a grimace, you round to his side and lug one of his arms around your shoulders and basically carry all of his weight towards the elevator. You give a tight smile to the staff at the reception as you pass by, dismissing the offer of help. You nearly drop to your knees as soon as the elevator doors close, exhaustion flooding you all of a sudden. 
As soon as the door opens to the penthouse, you remove your hold on Taehyung and he slumps against the wall. You let out a breath before pushing him to one of the guest rooms where he immediately plops down on the bed after knocking his shoes off.  A small smile plants itself on your face and you reach over to pull the covers over him. 
Kneeling down on the floor beside the bed, you brush off the loose hairs that cover his face and you whisper, “You’re making it so hard for me.”
Deciding that you’ve helped him enough, you head to your room to change and shower – a long bout of internal battle against yourself as you try to wash off all that happened. 
It is an hour later when you’re already in your bed, tossing and turning that you find yourself a long way from sleep, and so you push the covers off of you to head towards the kitchen to find something to drink. The sun is starting to rise, you see, as you stare at the large windows, uneasy at the thought that Taehyung is there. Here. 
And you know you shouldn’t care anymore. You’ve done enough and beyond to help him, you remind yourself. But that doesn’t matter, really, because here you are, pushing the guest room open to check on him, a bottle of water in hand. He remains as he was the second he got here and you sigh as you pull one of Jungkook’s shirt and sweatpants from the cabinet, a spare he leaves in the case he unintentionally sleeps over, and you walk towards Taehyung before slowly shaking him awake. 
“Hey,” you speak softly as his eyes crack open, mind still swimming in alcohol, “you should change into this. Your clothes must be uncomfortable to sleep in. Here’s some water too.” 
His eyes open a little bit wider, voice hoarse when he speaks, “(Y/N)?” 
You swallow, “Yeah, it’s me.” 
“I can’t remember most of tonight, how did I—”
You smile, “And you probably won’t remember all of this when you sleep once more. Just change and drink this, Taehyung.”
A part of why you’re doing all the things you’re doing is the fact that you know he will forget this. 
He sits up, swaying as he does so, twisting the water open. You greet him good night, and just as you turn to head back to sleep, his hand dart out to grip your wrist – as tight as the grip that has your heart beating so loud in your chest as he does, “I’m sorry.” 
Without turning around, you answer, “You don’t have to be. I would’ve done the same for anyone else.” 
“No, you wouldn’t have.” 
Pressing your tongue against your cheek, you rip your arm away from his hold, now turning around to face him. He slowly stands, eyes trained on you. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, “I’m not saying sorry just because of tonight,” he speaks quietly, “This is an apology that’s long overdue. An apology I never had the courage to give you. An apology that I owe you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the coward that walked away without an explanation. For not being the person I promised you I would be.”
“I told you,” you say through gritted teeth, “You don’t owe me an apology, Taehyung. It’s over and done with. Apologizing to me would mean that there’s still loose ends between us, and I’m telling you that there’s none. You may have burnt those ends the moment you walked away and I have burned mine in the years that followed. You don’t owe me anything.”
He’s closer now, so close that you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol and his perfume. “Then why are you still wearing this?” 
You feel all the walls come down, then, when his fingers trace the golden chain of the locket. The once emblem of young and promised love, of an oath, of Kim Taehyung. The necklace that never was once removed from you since then. 
You chuckle, bitter and harsh, “You’re still wearing it too, Kim.”
You flinch as you feel the pad of his thumb wipe away at the trail of tears that has somehow escaped, “Leaving you was the only choice I had then. It killed me to walk right out of that fucking door but it was the only choice. For you, for me, for us. Even if it meant me becoming the asshole, it was the only choice.” 
“Don’t feed me that bullshit, you left me. And in my vocabulary and everyone else’s, leaving the person you claim to love without a single explanation is a shit move,” you nearly damn snarled, “I could’ve accepted you telling me you didn’t love me anymore but you fucking walked out without a single word. Well, I guess it worked out great for you, huh? You’re getting married now.” 
“I did l—”
“Don’t fucking dare say it,” you sob, feeling all the energy draining out of you in a second, “You’re four years too late, Taehyung.”
The chains that hold all the hurt and grievance of the past four years had been unlocked and with the thought of Taehyung not being able to remember this tomorrow, you let it all out. 
“I lied,” you whisper, lips and chest shaking as you breathe, “It hurts me seeing you now. So fucking much. Because you never wanted to get married. I remember when we were together you said that we could live without the titles, the labels, and the technicalities of it all, because you’d love me the same. So yes, it hurts. I can’t deny that it does when the things you didn’t want with me, things I wanted to have with you, you learned to want with someone else. Shit like this hurts because even if I was okay without all the titles, I thought then that spending a lifetime with you wouldn’t be so bad. But you made it seem like you never wanted marriage, not with anyone ever and so I accepted it, content even with just being with you.”
“But then you show up like this,” you say so quietly you don’t know if he can hear it, “You can’t expect it not to hurt, Tae, because it does. So, so much.”
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung lightly rests his forehead on yours, “I’m so sorry.”
“Answer me this one question,” you look up at him, “Please.” 
You feel him nod, “Anything.”
You feel it again, the suffocating claws that grips around your chest, the pain of unanswered questions and doubts, “Was my love not enough for you?”
You feel it before you hear it, when he nods against your head, hands coming up to hold your cheeks, “No, no, god, no. It was more than enough. It was so much more than enough that you became someone who didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t reciprocate the amount of love you were giving me. I’m sorry.”
“I miss you, Tae.” You whisper, and you can barely see him through the tears, “And it’s so, so wrong and I shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, I do. Four years and I still miss you and now you’re here, back in my life, and yet you’re still the farthest you’ve ever been from me.”
Maybe it’s the realization that he is – so far away from you and will never be close enough anymore – that you think maybe this is the long-awaited end. The closure you’ve once longed for but never had. Maybe there really was no reason for him leaving you beyond the fact that he didn’t love you anymore – and maybe that was enough reason. You just didn’t want to accept that fact. Maybe it’s time that you do. 
After Taehyung, you’ve become someone who believed that love is something that’s easy to let go, when in fact, all this time, it is the love you had for Taehyung you’ve never let go of. And maybe, it was never love for the people that came after him and so it became easy for you once it’s over, once it ended. Because what has started that really counted has never reached its end, for you anyway. Because it will never be the same. 
Because they weren’t Kim Taehyung. 
“Don’t cry for me. I don’t deserve it,” he smiles a small smile as he wipes a tear away. 
“Then stop making me cry, asshole,” you softly retort, hands coming up to wrap around his own to pull them away from your face. You can’t think straight when he has his hands on you, “I’m not asking for you to love me again, not anymore. Maybe we could be friends?”
It’s a weak attempt at humor, you know. And you really don’t think you can be just friends with Taehyung. But you’re weak for Kim Taehyung and you’re still so fucking in love him that you’d settle for whatever there can be between the two of you. He doesn’t need to know the specifics.
“Can we, really?” He laughs softly, a sad smile appearing, “I’m about to do something very stupid, for the very last time, so please, stop me if you don’t want to because I don’t think I can stop myself.”
He leans forward as the inches between you decrease down to a zero, his lips pressing against your cheek, your forehead, your eyelid, and to the corner of your mouth before he pulls away. “No, you had something to drink too, I’m drunk, you’re drunk. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, ” Taehyung breathes against your cheek, eyes shut tight. 
“I’m not.” 
Whether that’s an answer that refutes your state of intoxication or a statement that debunks Taehyung’s apology, you don’t know. Because the next moment finds you pulling him forward, arms snaking around his shoulders as you kiss him. Soft and unhurried and sad – a declaration of what had remained unsaid for the past years. 
The last time, you swear, and from tomorrow then on, you’re going to be friends. This night will be void – forgotten and discarded. Taehyung is going to continue with his life and you with yours. 
It’s so easy to become so lost in Taehyung that you forget the rest of the world. 
That you don’t hear the sound of the door opening. 
Or the second set of drunk footsteps that follows the first one.
“What in the fuck is going on here?”
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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 4 months
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I'm so hopelessly in love with Kingdom of Heaven's Baldwin. Could you please write something fluffy for him, please? With a very affectionate wife reader who is thrilled to see him after he spends most of the day tending to his duties. I don't know if you have seen the TikTok about a guy looking sad until he spots his girlfriend, but if you have, that's basically how reader reacts upon spotting Baldwin after a long day. Cuddling would be appreciated. Thank you! 🩷
♡ Until His Last Breath - King Baldwin x Reader ♡
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♡ Fluff ♡
A/N: Hello Anon! This request is so cute, I love it so much! I hope this is what you had in mind ☺️. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
TW: Leprosy
Exhaustion was a common feeling for the young king.
Throughout the day, his many royal duties took a heavy toll on his fragile body. He hated being so weak. It hurt him greatly to accept that his body would not last much longer on this Earth and soon he would have to leave behind his beautiful wife and kingdom forever.
Yet for now, the small pleasures in life were the thing to keep him going. But the thing he loved most out of everything in the world was his wife. His wonderful, perfect wife.
Returning to his chambers after a long day and crawling into her arms was the best feeling he had ever experienced. He adored how happy she was to see him every day.
For her, seeing him was just like the first time she had ever laid eyes on him. Her face would light up and she would run to wrap him up in a gentle yet firm hug. Feeling him melt into her embrace was the best thing in the world. 
--------------
Today was no different.
Baldwin returned to his chambers in the evening, exhausted after a particularly tiring day. He was more than willing to curl up into the arms of his beloved y/n and sleep for eternity.
He entered the room to find his queen sitting up in bed, reading a book. Her beautiful hair was braided, she had on white sleep robes, and her face wore a content expression.
He sighed with relief at the sight of her. Y/n looked up from her book and grinned when she saw him. Without a word, she pulled the bed covers back and patted the space beside her, gesturing for him to come lay with her.
Baldwin did not hesitate. His body ached as he laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head in her lap. Her thin, delicate fingers removed his veil, exposing his softly curled blonde hair.
She ran a hand over his scalp (one of the only areas that still had sensation to it), earning a soft groan of pleasure as her fingers worked away hours of headache.
Y/n reached her other hand over and slid her fingers under his mask, pulling it away from his face. She smiled when she saw his eyes were closed, a small smile on his scarred face. She paid no mind to his disfigurement, as always. She never saw it. All she saw was her beautiful husband.
“Your hands are wonderful my love” he said gently, his voice low and sleepy. Y/n chuckled. “How are you feeling my darling?” she asked, her voice was soft like silk. “Very tired. That's about all. Just very tired” he paused to yawn into his bandaged hand. “But I have felt worse before, so no need to worry”. The queen smiled and rolled her eyes. “Very well. Would you like me to read to you until you fall asleep?” she offered. Baldwin hummed quietly and nodded.
Y/n picked up the book that sat by her side and began to read, one hand holding the book and the other massaging her husband's aching temples.
The young king would have loved to remain awake longer and continue listening to her soothing voice, but soon he was fast asleep
Y/n’s smile returned to her face when the familiar sound of his soft snores reached her ears. The peaceful sound was comforting to her, it made her happy with the knowledge that he was right there beside her, sleeping comfortably. Unaffected by the discomforts of the waking day.
She placed the book on the nightstand and turned her attention to him, moving her body down a little to wrap him up in her arms properly. Her fingers worked their way through his silky hair, stopping every now and again to press a kiss to his forehead.
She was entirely unafraid of his illness now.
She would gladly give up her life to ensure that he felt loved and safe in her presence, she would hold him in her arms until his last breath. It would be an absolute honor to live and die for someone so beautiful.
Their love for eachother was so incredibly strong, and nothing could ever change that.
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something for the knight!price x princess!reader that I had to write before I went to bed
How could he do this to you? Were you not important enough to be informed by him personally or did you have to be told by every servant you had come across that the knights were leaving today?
You stomped through the courtyard of the castle, unable to keep yourself as composed as you should've. You weren't sure why you were angry, this wasn't uncommon, in fact the knights were more than often gone from the kingdom than they were at the castle and yet you couldn't help but feel hurt.
It was because you would be stuck at the castle, having no one to escort you anywhere when the knights were gone, leaving you in a horrible state of boredom.
You had the right to know you were going to be left alone and that had to be the only reason why you were so angry.
"You were going to leave without saying anything to me." You snapped when you found him, Sir Price, captain of the knights of the royal family, getting his horse ready in the stables.
"I didn't think it mattered, your highness." Price glanced at you with his usual scowl, the one he always had on his face when he looked at you. "I thought you would've loved to see me leave."
"Of course I am happy but I have a right to be told when my bodyguard is leaving."
Price rolled his eyes and you scoffed. He continued to pack his things away on his horse without looking at you, which made you want to stomp your foot on the ground.
"What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" You wondered and he shrugged.
"What you do everyday, your highness," He looked back at you with a smug smile. "Nothing."
"Oh, funny."
You crossed your arms and watched as he finished packing everything away onto his horse.
A pit fell into your stomach as you watched him ready his horse. He was leaving and you should be happy about it. You should be happy that he was no longer breathing down your neck and watching your every move. You'd have little freedom, unable to go where you pleased but at least you wouldn't have to deal with his snarky comments or jokes.
Yet you wondered if maybe this would be the last time you'd ever get to see him. Maybe this would be the last time you'd ever hear his gruff voice or see his beautiful blue eyes.
You detested him and yet the thought of never seeing him again made your stomach turn.
"You will come back." You demanded and when he didn't say anything you balled your hands into fists. "Tell me you will come back."
Price looked at you with slight confusion. His eyes bounced around your face and you watched the way they softened, the crease in his brow disappearing while he gripped the reins tightly.
He stared at you in silence for a long moment and his breathing became heavier.
Your mouth felt dry under his intense gaze and you felt the need to look away from him as heat washed over you. It was too much and you clasped your hand in front of you as you swallowed hard.
"If you don't, I think I'll be stuck inside the castle forever." You told him weakly.
When you glanced back at him, he sucked in his lips and averted his gaze from you. You watched he rubbed his chin before he nodded.
"I'll come back to you."
Your breath hitched in your throat.
To you...
Oh.
You didn't have faith in your voice so you only nodded. You watched as he wrapped the reins around his hand and his face fell back into that scowl you had grown accustomed to.
"Now, if your highness allows it, I must be going." Price gave you a look and you rolled your eyes.
"Go." You dismissed him with a wave.
Price bowed his head and turned, waking away with his horse in tow. He didn't look back at you, even when you followed him from behind at a distance.
You watched him mount his horse and join the other knights who were waiting for him, unable to take your eyes off him as the pit in your stomach grew larger. You weren't sure how long he'd be gone for, but you hope it wouldn't be a year or longer.
You're not sure if you'd survive.
As the knights rode towards the front gates, Price turned back and saw you. He didn't wave or indicate that he saw you, though he knew you saw him look back when you raised a hand to wave.
Oh, how you hate one another.
A/N: short makes no sense but here
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reallyromealone · 10 months
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MEETINGS
Dire Crowley x male reader
Bottom Crowley, top reader, smut, nsfw, biting, dirty talk, rough sex, sweet words
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"hello again crowley" (name) grunted as he had the head mage of the night raven academies legs over his shoulders, thrusting into the others ass with a shit eating grin, the black haired man laying on his own mahogany desk crying in pleasure as the royal swords academy headmaster fucked him stupid "I missed you, did you miss me?" He teased as he kissed the others chest, dress shirt and best ripped open in the heat of the moment, leaving bite marks across his pale flesh as Crowley clawed at his back.
Crowley loved the feeling of (name)s cock stretch him out, shaping his insides to fit him as the other looked dishevelled as he focused his thrusts perfectly, Crowley never wanted it to stop as he felt his insides get rearranged.
He got very excited for (name)s "meetings".
"So generous of you to invite me to beild relationships with me~" Crowley couldn't get a word out as (name) moved him so he could hit his prostate better "ahn!" No snark or cheeky comments as (name)s balls slapped against his ass "god you're so pretty like this... Wish I could have you like this every day..." (Name) said kissing the other, mask long removed as their lips chased one another "you're so perfect... So wonderful..." (Name) loved praising the other, feeding his ego.
And Crowley felt on cloud nine as his beloved worshiped him, kissing him sloppily and whined as (name)s tongue slipped in and gently coaxed him to kiss back, the poor dark made struggling to keep up with the heat of the passion.
"Mmh!" (Name) swollowed moans and whines as he rubbed the others waist and the bruises he left from gripping particularly hard, shifting his thrusts to be a bit more slow as he pushed in nice and deep and swore he could see the outline of his cock.
(Name) let Crowley's legs drop to wrap around (name)s waist, the man pressing his hand against Crowley's abdomen and he could feel his cock go in and out.
"Do you feel that? My cock going in and out of your sloppy little cunt?" (Name) teased while licking at his nipple, Crowley arching his back as felt (name)s hot tongue swirl around his areola before biting at his nipple, (name) pulling Crowley close with one arm wrapped around his waist "don't worry my song bird... I'll take care of you" he promised as he fucked him well and good, stroking his cock in rhythm.
"Please... Fuck oh!" Crowley was such a sweetheart when fucked stupid...
He was so beautiful, sweaty and glowing as he let (name) use him like a sex toy... Maybe one day the fates would allow him to be with Crowley forever, bound by magic for eternity...
"Close...! Fuck (name)!" Crowley cried out as he bit into (name)s shoulder, causing the other to hiss as he picked up speed and left hickeys across Crowley's neck and shoulder as the other sang sweetly for him "so big..." Crowley whined as his body shook out an orgasm.
"I'll fill you up so well... Don't you worry my beloved..." (Name) would give Crowley his life if it meant his happiness would be fulfilled... But for now his cum would have to suffice.
(Name) kept his pace as Crowley's cum covered both their chests, (name)s eyes closed as he felt himself get close "so good, so fucking tight for me... God you're perfect... A perfect little hole for me... I love you" (name) confessed as Crowley looked for once out of words and pulled him into a greedy kiss as (name) came deep within him.
Slow thrusts as he rode out his climax before slowly pulling out his cock and cum dripping out of his ass "beautiful..." (Name) loved Crowley at all times, especially like this.
"I... I love you as well." Crowley mumbled while (name) waved his hand to summon a wash cloth to clean the dark mage "maybe next time I could take you to dinner for our "meetings", must keep peace yes?" (Name) asked as he crouched infront of Crowley to wash the sweat off his body.
"Since I'm so generous, I'll agree to your silly dinner"
"Wonderful"
They couldn't be together the way they wished but this was close enough, the two looking at each other longingly as Crowley put his mask back on.
"Now, be a good little mage and help me to the restroom, the least you could do for blowing my back like that"
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targaryenluvs · 9 months
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SEE YOU AGAIN
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pairings: robb stark x fem!targaryen!reader, platonic!stark family x reader
warnings: none!
a/n: i had only two drafts and this was one of them!! might just get back into got/hotd writing! god this was written a while ago
Within an hour you wound up being introduced to the entire Stark family. You especially liked Ayra, she reminded you of Rhaenyra in certain aspects such as her rebellious behaviour. Although you did have to cover your head with a scarf for the most part, your violet eyes were quite hard to miss. You chalked it up to a birth defect and were introduced as a maiden of the Red Keep, returning home for marriage but also a friend of the Eldest three children.
You yourself had never visited the North before, as your parents had deemed it unworthy of being visited by a Princess. But you found yourself growing fond of the place despite its cold nature.
You had also found Nyraxes huddled in front of a bonfire in a near by cave. Surprisingly she hadn’t torched the entire area and it’s inhabitants. You had wondered how the Starks had managed to tame a dragon.
But at the moment you were more concerned about getting home. As nice as it was to be in the area, you found yourself surprisingly longing for the Red Keep. Currently you found yourself dining with the family, the food seemed foreign, scarcely containing any notable fruit or vegetables but Jon had explained the lack of crop in such harsh times, which you understood. You felt uncomfortable, out of place.
Everyone chatted so freely, everyone knew each other where as you were an outsider in every way. Your gorgeous purple eyes in contrast to the ever so common brown and black, bright, striking silver hair which was no longer covered, compared to red and brown.
“Y/n, who are you marrying my dear?” Catelyn questioned you as the entire table diverted their gaze to you. Your face became hot, especially under Robb’s sharp gaze. “Yes Y/n, who are you betrothed to?” You felt like ripping him a new one, perhaps feeding him to Nyra.
“I’ve returned home for my parents, we’re heading up to Casterly Rock for the wedding, he’s a lord but I doubt you would know of him your grace.” Laughs bellowed out around you, Robb loudest of all.
“Your grace?” Robb cried out. “Hush you all. She has decorum and respect unlike most, why mock her for it? My dear, please, call me Catelyn.”
You nodded.
Ed and Catelyn still didn’t know of your real name, nor your lineage/descent. That much they may have been able to get their heads around but you weren’t so sure they would have opened up their castle to you quite so swiftly if they knew of the, as most royals and small folk would claim, “Beast” in the caves.
You sat at your windowsill looking out onto the courtyard as a someone knocked on your door. “You alright if I come in love?” You allowed him in. “Not the view your used to?” You nodded, “I wish to go home Robb. But if what you say is true how can I? All the Targaryens are gone. My Aemond, ended up dead in battle Above the Gods Eye along with my Uncle Daemon. Aegon, Helaena, Her children, Otto, Rhaenyra, Nyra, Jace, Luke everyone. In the history books and life I am forever known as the Princess who Hid. A coward.” You cried as he sat down and hugged you.
As he soothed you Robb slowly raised you face to him, as he wiped away your tears. “Not everyone.” Your head shot up, “What?” You croaked, “I didn’t finish the book my love. Aenys the mad King has two surviving children. Daenerys and Viserys. Although Viserys passed away a long time ago.”
“A-and Daenerys?” “Alive, and well as it seems. She’s been wed to Khal Drogo seemingly pregnant too as it seems.” Robb swiped a stray hair behind your ear as he leaned in, so did you.
-
You woke up the next morning after Robb as his side of the bed was seemingly empty. You prayed to the old gods and new that no one had heard the two of you yesterday. And if they did that they wouldn’t mention anything it. Everyone had broke their fast earlier on in the day as you had slept longer than usual. You weren’t use to having such lengthy nights of rest but were more than grateful.
After dressing you walked the halls with Arya for a bit before making your way to the courtyard where everyone seemed to have gathered for something, it wasn’t long before Sansa pulled you in front of all the people where the reason for the spectacle (rather reasons) came into view.
Robb was laughing loudly before Jon attacked, blade in hand. Robb swiftly moved to the side away from Jon and used his blade to propel Jon forwards again. As Jon fell Robb raised his sword to his neck.
“And you’re dead.”
Jon laughed, “Perhaps you should become a knight brother.”
They’re laughter stopped as you stepped out, fully dressed in your old clothes and determined. “I take it you’re planning on leaving now?” You smiled and nodded, “I appreciate your hospitality Robb, Jon. But if I do have surviving family than I must go to them. Thank you, truly.” You spoke as you walked past them, as much as you wished to stay longer you knew you’re descendants needed your help.
So as you mounted your Nyraxes, you couldn’t help but look back at him.
Maybe, you’d see him again.
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Of Truths & Dreams; Malleus Draconia
Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.
Supporting Characters; Lilia Vanrouge & Malenoa Draconia
Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, canon divergence, hurt/comfort
Content Warnings; Chapter 7 spoilers, overblot stuff, swearing
Word Count; 5 K
Don't put my work into AI, I will hunt you for sport.
Prologue & Lilia's Story | Sebek's Story
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Malleus was born into this world alone. His mother, dead, and his father, missing. It was a miracle that he even hatched, as Draconia eggs required love to hatch. And his grandmother was ridden with grief, over losing her only child. It was no wonder why he was delayed by several centuries. And despite everything, he hatched. But despite his hatching, the love and adoration that people gave him, he was alone. Malleus didn’t feel loved, not in the way that mattered.
His subjects, his guards, his teachers, even his own grandmother loved the idea of him. And he was raised away from the outside world, within the dark halls of Briar Castle. Malleus was an idea, and the hope for the future rather than his own person. It was a lot for a child to handle. So, of course, he would sneak out when he thought no one was looking. The guards would realize rather quickly that the sole heir to Briar Valley, their most treasured royal, was missing. But Malleus didn’t care.
“Good evening,” he greeted the raven gargoyle that was at the westernmost turret of the outside wall. Malleus looked in the direction that the raven did, looking out into the moors. A dense fog had rolled in, covering everything in a white haze. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?”
He knew that the stone wouldn’t answer him, but he asked anyways. “Grandmother tells me stories you know,” he sighed, taking a seat in one of the carved-out alcoves in the ancient stone. “That Briar Valley will one day be mine to keep. But I cannot rule without a soul match.”
Soul matches were quintessential for the Draconias, after all, it was their own ancestor the Thorn Fairy, who had gifted the fae the blessing. But Malleus had yet to find any trace of them in his dreams. Typically, members of his family were born with their soul match already in their dreams, but Malleus had yet to meet them, his dreams still being black and white, and no blurry stranger to speak of in sight. It was distressing, and he heard the whispered concerns of his grandmother when she thought he was in bed.
And those whispers played in his head. “Is there something the matter with me?” All the young prince got for an answer though was the distant cawing of ravens, and the approaching sounds of footsteps. “Did I do something wrong?”
It felt like he did something wrong. Why else would the Thorn Fairy withhold his birthright to a soul match? Why would she punish him? Had he already not been punished enough?
“So that’s where you were hiding,” the familiar voice of Lilia pulled Malleus from his thoughts. “Come now, young prince, you can’t hide away forever.” Lilia offered his hand for the young boy to take. 
Malleus looked at his outstretched hand to his face, and placed his hand in Lilia’s. “Did I upset everyone again?” His voice was quiet as the two of them walked hand and hand down the uneven steps of the turret’s staircase.
Lilia hummed, “Upset? No. Worry? A little bit.” He was used to barking out orders in the battlefield, not looking after children, let alone one so precious to the Valley. But Lilia felt that he needed to, for both his Queen, and the late princess. He had a duty to keep, an oath that he lived by; to protect the royal line.
Malleus frowned, giving the moors a final look before he and his keeper descended into the heart of the castle. “I just wanted to find them.”
“And you will,” Lilia gave the prince a practised smile, as it was still something he was getting used to. “It may just take some time is all.”
“But mother and grandmother both were born with their soul matches already in their dreams. Why is mine not with me now?” Malleus was starting to spit a bit of fire, clearly becoming upset with his own frustration. “Why must they keep me waiting?”
Lilia took a knee, and gently placed his hands on Malleus’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Good things come to those who wait. It must mean that the Thorn Fairy is taking her time in finding the best match for you.” Lilia’s eyes searched Malleus’s and he propped himself back up. “So since it is taking a while, they must be very special.”
Malleus was still upset, but that put him at ease. Good things come to those who wait. So the longer he had to wait, the better his soul match should be, and that put his turbulent mind at ease… for now.
Malleus was standing in the thick fog of the moors. And it was deathly silent, not even the crickets or the throaty calls of frogs filled in the silent din. “Another dream,” he sighed to himself. 
Of course it was a dream, which was obvious due to everything being in various shades of grey, white, and black, but also because he wasn’t allowed past the castle’s outer walls without someone else accompanying him.
“Why have you brought me here,” Malleus quietly asked the fog.
It is said that the Thorn Fairy lived in the moors, that she protected the moors. She put up an impenetrable wall of thorns, to protect her people from those who wished to destroy them. But the moors remained silent, and barren of colour or life. Malleus hummed to himself the lullaby that his grandmother sang to him while he was still a baby, and still in his egg. He has heard this song over the centuries as he lay dormant. Permanently etched into the deepest recesses of his mind. The lullaby was crafted solely for the fae to learn of soul matches.
Malleus stopped humming. He hadn’t met them yet, so it didn’t feel right to hum the original lyrics. “I’ll know you. I will walk with you once upon a dream,” he sang slowly, walking to nowhere in particular, the fog moving gently with his movements. “I’ll know you, that look in your eyes will be so a familiar a gleam.” 
He started dancing by himself, making the fog swirl around him. “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I’ll know you, I know what you’ll do.” Malleus made one large twirl, and all the emotions he had were summoned as fire, setting the dry grass of the moors ablaze, yet he was untouched as his dream was slowly being reduced to ashes.
“You’ll love me at once,” he whispered quietly, “the way you did once upon a dream.” Smoke filled the air, and where there was once light, white fog, there was now heavy, black smoke.
It was simply a dream though, nothing more. But dreams reveal truths, even if we don’t want to confront them.
Malleus had missed the entrance ceremony… again, at least Lilia was all over it, but it still rubbed Malleus in all of the wrong ways. But was it really his fault? He had never received an invitation… due to his electronics acting up again due to his own magic, so maybe it was his fault. Maybe next year! … Oh right, he would be a fourth year and not studying within the confines of Night Raven College, so in actuality, there was no next year.
At least there was a familiar face that was new to the dorm, and Sebek was overjoyed and followed Malleus dutifully. But that didn’t really change his own inner turmoil; he is next in line to be king, and yet he wasn’t able to attend something as simple as an annual recurring event? It troubled him, even as he was preparing himself for bed, adjusting his custom pillow just so.
I just wish I were invited? A proper letter. He mused in his own head, before finding himself back in the moors. It was always the moors. By this point he had traversed the entirety of it, and seen everything it had to offer, all of its little secrets. Not hard when he’s had nearly a century of time to do so.
He started humming his version of the lullaby, as he mindlessly floated along a path that he had made with his own footsteps, well trodden. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what he’s told himself, night after night. That’s what he told himself every morning when he woke up. He was getting tired of waiting. He was supposed to have been born with his soul match already in his dreams, but no one had ever appeared in Malleus’s dreams. He was always alone in the moors, with not even animals to keep him company. He was not only isolated in his waking world, the real world, but he was also isolated in his dreams.
Malleus was all alone, he had been alone for a while. Yes, he may have guards, and loyal servants, but above all else, they saw him as their next king, not Malleus; they didn’t see him for him. So maybe it was fitting that he didn’t have a soul match either. Maybe the Thorn Fairy wanted him alone.
Right as those feelings surfaced though, his dream changed. Malleus was very much still in the moors, but the silence was gone. The soft chirping of crickets filled the void. There was life, and it was all at once. The fog was still there, but Malleus could also see the faint lights of fireflies, glowing softly. This, this was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The once still moor was now gently rustling, breathing.
In front of him, the fog became dense, and a figure slowly emerged from it, looking around in a confused state. But they then turned their full attention to Malleus, and everything became saturated in violet.
Good things come to those who wait. They were here, they were finally here. Malleus was finally not alone.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. He did not know who they were, did not know of their upbringing or social status, but none of that mattered. They were his soul match, which usurped everything else. 
He watched curiously as his words floated in front of him, a harsh, neon green. His soul match did the same, watching as the words faded away.
“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Their words, your words, floated in front of Malleus, the same shade of green as his. “Who are you? Where am I?”
Malleus hummed, intrigued by their reaction. Perhaps they were not taught of soul match bonds, which would be understandable, as not all families knew of the bonds the Thorn Fairy had gifted them. “I will explain all in time, for now though, let us walk together, and enjoy this moment. Shall we?”
He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it, but right as your hands were about to meet, your form turned back into mist, leaving Malleus alone yet again in his dream. “Hmm, they must have woken up suddenly… perhaps tomorrow night then…” He murmured to himself, and continued down his footpath, watching the fireflies blink in the distance.
That was a weird ass dream, and you were kinda thankful that Grim had rudely woken you up. Kinda being the key word. And you couldn’t really get back to sleep, instead just staring up at the decaying ceiling above you, just wishing that you could go back to sleep. But what was up with the formal-speaking stranger? Why were you in some sort of swamp? Why was everything purple? And why were your words floating in front of you and a bright ass neon green? It was only your first night too… maybe this was just your brain coming up with weird scenarios to distract you from the weirdness you experience while awake? Maybe some inter-dimensional travel side effects? Like some form of jet lag that messed with your dreams? Sure, let’s pin it on that.
“Ughhhh, I hate it here,” you groaned. It would be a few hours before classes even began, so you had plenty of time for utter boredom, how fun. At least you had borrowed some books from the library, a mix of general information — since that ‘headmage’ hadn’t given you a proper welcome or a lowdown on how this world functioned — and just some interesting looking cover. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Sure, but when the book was a deep violet leather-bound book, with green metallic filigree? How could you not be curious about it? It was stunning.
“Of Truths and Dreams,” you whispered to yourself, that was the title of the book, the font in the style of calligraphy from medieval texts. How old was it? Were you actually allowed to touch it, let alone read it? It looked like it belonged in a museum.
You carefully undid the metal clasp, in the shape of a dragon’s claw. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And you began reading.
Dreams can reveal much about a person; their wants, their fears, their memories. Dreams also hold power, and such power has been bestowed to the Draconia family. And this power comes from our ancestor, the Thorn Fairy.
You snapped the book shut. This wasn’t just a book, it was a diary. You shouldn’t be reading this… but this was a chance to learn more about this world. Learn about it from… You open up the diary again, and find the owner’s name written in the same calligraphy as the title. Maleficia Draconia. 
-
As with all fae, our family too is blessed with soul matches who enter our dreams as we sleep. Our family is different though, as we are born with them already in our minds; our dreams tinted in a colour that represents both of us. They are of utmost importance to us. Without them, we cannot rule. They may become an advisor, a confidant, and in some cases, a lover. That is for both parties to decide though, we cannot use our power or status to influence their decision, no matter how we feel about them, Malenoa. Do not let our draconic greed dictate the relationship. It surfaces as a song. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem. But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream. Ignore that song, my love, for that is the greed speaking, and not the truth. Ignore it at all costs, for it will stain the heart…
The rest of the diary was left blank, the edges of the paper charred. Turning it back over, you noticed that the entire back of the book was blackened, blackened by fire. And even though you didn’t know who Maleficia was, she had helped you a great lot. Whatever that dream was, that was no ordinary stranger. They were your… soul match? Yeah, whatever that meant.
Malleus found himself walking outside of his old haunting grounds, Ramshackle dorm. He was surprised to find it now occupied, but his sadness had morphed into something far more pleasant. He had gained a friend. He had gained you.
“Good evening, Child of Man,” he greeted you, taking notice of the large yawn that escaped your mouth. “More tired than usual I see. You do not need to walk with me tonight if rest is what you need.”
Malleus meant well, in his own odd and formal way. “Eh, it’s nothing, Tsunotarou. I’ll get some shut eye in a bit,” you waved off his concern, and shot him a small smile.
He gave you back a tiny smile, remembering the last time that he gave someone a full smile, they were left scared, not happy. He didn’t want to scare you off. That’s why he let you decide on a nickname for him, that but also names hold power… but he trusted you, he just didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want your friendship to change just because you found out he was the Malleus Draconia, but he also knew that you wouldn’t really care. You didn’t seem like the type to treat him any differently just because of his title. He didn’t want to risk it though.
So the two of you walked around the outskirts of Ramshackle, fireflies lighting the way. Something about them felt familiar though, and it wasn’t from just your nightly walks with your horned friend. You could have sworn you saw them in a dream… now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to enjoy what time you could get with your friend.
“Hey, Tsunotarou,” you asked him, turning a bit so you faced him. “Do you have a soul match?”
Malleus’s pupils dilated outwards, becoming more rounded rather than harsh slits. “Yes I do, Child of Man. I am rather surprised that you know of the subject,” he breathed out. You really were full of surprises, weren’t you?
Surprised? “How so?”
Malleus hummed to himself, a melody that sounded familiar, but it evaded you. “The bonds of soul matches of fae are only known by fae, which is why I was caught by surprise of you knowing of the term. That is all.” Do you have one, Child of Man? But why does the thought make my tongue go bitter?
“Found it in a book in the library,” you mused. You mentally kicked yourself, you could have given it to him, he may know the family of the previous owner. Maybe you could go hunting for it the next time you found yourself in the cramped halls of the library. A rather large yawn escaped from you, and that was your, and Malleus’s, queue that it was time for you to head off to the land of dreams. “Any who, night, Tsunotarou! Sweet dreams!” You waved him goodbye as he vanished into a puff of fireflies, off into the night.
And they were both asleep again, but something felt off. Like there was something dark tainting the dream. It was a familiar sensation, one that made the hairs on your neck stand on end; blot. There was blot in the dream.
“Are you alright,” you asked your soul match, carefully watching their reaction.
They hummed, and turned to look at you curiously, green eyes practically glowing in the dark violet lighting, pupils relaxing from their tight slits into more relaxed ovals. “I am alright, just thinking is all,” their words floated in front of them, still the neon green they were in the beginning.
But the alarm bells were screaming in your head. Screaming at you that everything was definitely not alright. This, this was being calculated, being considered. “You just seem preoccupied… like your mind is elsewhere is all.”
They tilted their head, “I am right here with you.” Their words were blunt, as they typically were. “However,” the lighting darkened, being tainted with more hints of blot, “are you planning on going anywhere?” Are you planning on leaving me, like everyone else?
The words hang heavily in the air. It was no use lying to them, as it would only worsen the situation to lie. “Eventually I have to… I have to go back,” you said carefully, gauging their reaction.
Malleus’s pupils turned into slits again, but he remained calm on the outside. “Go back to what? Do you not like it here?” Do you not like me?
You looked around the bog, “That’s not the case. I have responsibilities back home. I need to go back. I’m …” Sorry. But the word didn’t come out of your mouth. What did you have to apologise for? It was not your fault that you came here, but why did it feel like it?
“I too have responsibilities,” Malleus said quietly, words barely visible. “You cannot go back.” All of the pleasantries were gone, this was a command. “You are staying here with me.”
The blot thickened. Could someone overblot in their dreams? And they started singing, and it was the tune that they’ve been humming since their first shared dream.
“I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam,” they cupped your face, looking softly into your eyes. “And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…” The violet lighting of the dream had turned almost black, the only lighting being the neon green words dancing around you. “You’ll love me at once, they way you did once-”
You shot up awake, heart beating so fast that you could feel and hear it. You didn’t need your soul match to finish the lyric, for you knew it already… for you had read it in that fire-charred diary. “… upon a dream,” you breathed out.
Your soul match is Malleus Draconia, Tsunotarou, and this was bad. The greed had taken over… alongside the blot. 
Malleus looked over the forms of his sleeping classmates, singing the lullaby again. He could see everybody’s dreams, except for yours, and it was equally as annoying as it was endearing. Of course his Child of Man would be filled with surprises. Malleus only wished that his soul match was here, for he wished to see their deepest desires, to see how they would be the hero of their own tale. But when he closed his eyes, and tried to teleport to their dreams, he saw nothing. It distressed him too, he knew they were asleep, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Where are you,” he chuckled darkly, a mix of anger but also fear. He should be able to see them, but he saw nothing, nothing except for the moors now engulfed in ink. Devoid of colour and life. 
Soul match bonds cannot break, at least not easily. Either they were no longer of this world — which they were not, Malleus could sense that much — or they were underneath a sleeping spell, a Draconia’s sleeping spell.
It meant that they were on the island. They have been so close this entire time. “Now, wherever could you be hiding,” Malleus sighed, looking into every single person’s dreams, looking for his soul match. Their dream should be tinted violet, singling them out to him. And as Malleus hopped from dream to dream, not once did he find the familiar colour. But they were here… he just couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see their dreams.
That left one option. There was only one person who he couldn’t see the dreams of. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you,” he floated over to your sleeping form, coming to sit next to you with a fond look in his eyes, “my dear Child of Man.” And he started humming that song of his, trying to pry into your mind, trying to get back into your dreams, where he could keep a diligent eye on you. “Looks like we have indeed met once upon a dream… that must be why your eyes are so familiar a gleam.”
“Yeah, this, this is beyond bad,” you muttered to yourself. You were back in the swamp, up to your chest in thick ink. The once pleasant dream was now, effectively, a trap; a giant glue trap if you will. 
A boom of thunder overhead underscored your statement and brilliant flashes of bright purple and green lightning provided the only light for you, everything else was shrouded in darkness caused by the blot. Caused by Malleus. But why, why did he overblot?
“They found a way for me to go back home.” Oh. You're leaving, and add onto that, Lilia coming out from nowhere and saying that he was also leaving because his magic had dried out… That’s why.
“TSUNOTAROU!” You yelled out into the swamp, but all you got as an answer was your own voice causing ripples in the ink. “TSUNOTAROU?!” You tried again. Nothing.
Names hold power, Child of Man, do remember that. You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself for when he manifested himself here. “MALLEUS DRACONIA?!”
A bolt of lightning hit a few metres in front of you, morphing into bright green fire, and then Malleus was standing in front of you, or rather, a part of him. “You called?”  He glided easily over the ink, and looked down at you, assessing you.
“What have you done, Malleus,” you refused to tilt your head upwards, instead looking up with your eyes, head remaining level.
Malleus knelt down in front of you, despite him being vastly stronger and of higher status, he still viewed you as his equal. “I did what needed to be done.” He said it so matter of factly, like it made perfect sense. “Now everyone will be happy.”
“You can’t force people to be happy,” you said back, looking into his eyes, searching for the Malleus you knew, searching for your friend. “That’s not for you to decide, Malleus.” 
Malleus just hummed at your comment, and he tried to change your dream to something more pleasant, but you remained stuck in the ink. Why can I not change it? I should be able to change it. “They deserve to be happy… You deserve to be happy. Do you not?”
I mean, yeah it would be nice, but I would rather it be because of something other than an overblot, but ya know how it is. “Yes, but not like this… Let me help you, Malleus.”
“I do not need help,” he hissed, tilting your chin up. “Let me make you happy.” 
The ink rose, and it was now up to your neck, and you were floating in it. You spared a quick glance down and saw a gentle lilac light shining down from the bottom. This may just be a crazy idea, but it was one worth taking.
You looked back into Malleus’s eyes. “Do you promise?”
Malleus smiled at you, “Of course I do.”
You grabbed him by the arm and pulled the both of you under the surface of the ink, making your eye towards the lilac light.
You crawled out of the ink and found yourself, and Malleus, on the outside walls of a grand castle, roses vining their way up the facade in full bloom. Everything was in a gentle lilac light, and fireflies glowed green despite it being daytime. It was idyllic, it was peaceful, the only thing out of place being the blot that dripped off Malleus. Yet it was contained to him, disappearing into a gentle puff of green sparkles when it hit the ground.
“How,” Malleus whispered, his words now a light green, no longer a harsh neon. “How are we here?”
You didn’t know, all you did was follow the light from the bottom of the inky depths. “Do you know this place?” You had no idea where you were, but you weren’t complaining, since you were no longer up to your neck in blot.
Malleus looked up, and there was the familiar raven gargoyle from his childhood. “This is my home,” he turned to look at you curiously. “How did you bring us here, Child of Man?”
“They didn’t,” a velvety voice said. And coming down the stairs was a woman, who looked like Malleus except older, looking like she was probably in her thirties. “I did, my love.”
She gracefully walked over, and cupped his face, looking over his features. And you could have sworn that you saw her absorb some of the blot. “You have grown into a fine young man. But you have let greed overshadow you.”
Malleus looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was frozen in place. “Mother?” His voice was quiet, barely even coming out. “But how?”
The woman, Malleus’s mother, hummed gently, combing her fingers through her son’s hair, slowly absorbing the blot from him. “You can thank them,” she turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile, “all thanks to your soul match.”
She turned back to her son, her face shifting into a more solemn expression. “My love, let me bestow a gift on you… but you won’t see me again. This is the last thing I can do for you. Let me do this though; for you and everyone you love.”
You can’t force people to be happy. 
Keep everyone you love close to you, guard them, hoard them.
You’re my friend, I’ll always be with you, even if we’re far apart!
You’ll love me at once-
This was wrong, and Malleus choked on his own blot. The greed, the dark parts of the dragon had won. “Please,” he coughed. 
His mother embraced him into a hug, “Spinning wheel of fate, undo this thread of darkness. As Queen of Briar, I shall bestow upon you this gift.” She placed a kiss on his forehead, and all of the blot was gone. “I love you,” she whispered, before her form vanished gently into green and lilac sparkles.
“I’m sorry,” the words floated over to you. Malleus looked tired, exhausted. How much magic had the blot taken from him? He opened his mouth again, but closed it, at a loss for words. “And I understand if… if you want nothing to do with me.”
From your times dealing with overblot, you knew this wasn’t his fault. Overblots are due to trauma, from bottling it all up until someone broke. “Why would I not want anything to do with you? I’m still friends with the others.”
Malleus looked into your eyes, but all he found was honesty… and love, love for a friend. A genuine love. 
You extended your hand, “So come on, Tsunotarou. Let’s move forward together.”
And he took your hand. The path forward was sure to be bumpy, but he knew that you would stick by his side, even after this.
Fin!
Author's Note; And this concludes the Soul Match AU! I know in my poll people voted for a fluffy ending, but uhhh, I was possessed by a vision. I might continue this AU for other characters in the future, but for now this is where I've leave it. Thank you for reading!
Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @krenenbaker
If you like my work, please check out my masterlist [there are 9 other Soul Match works btw]
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Unpredictable, Part 6-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic
A/N: Sorry it's a little late but it took me forever to get the pace right and I didn't re-watch the episode so it's all from memory. Thanks for all the love!
Warnings: Hints to sensuality, swearing, body image issues, self-esteem issues, allusions to homophobia.
Words: 7.8k
Taglist: @badbishsblog , @kasslucilfer, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog
Series Masterlist
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The only sounds that filled the room were the rustling of clothes as we all got dressed in our respective areas. While I was slipping on my gold hoops, I could not shake the feeling that something was off, kind of like in a horror movie where the main family is weird, but they haven’t done anything to justify suspicion. Every time I tried to remember something, it made my temples throb.
My stomach churned at the fact that I couldn’t remember anything, and my thoughts were all jumbled up. Did Marie or Jordan remember anything? The thought of asking them made me gulp and I fingered the dark-wash jeans in my lap.
They’ll think I can’t handle my liquor or that I always black out, I mused bitterly.
“I think this is yours.” Jordan’s voice nearly made me jump but I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized she was talking to Marie.
Marie glanced over at her and muttered her thanks once Jordan tossed her a bra. I faced the front again, unfolded my jeans, and gasped.
“What is it?” Marie asked.
I gulped. “Um, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Jordan commented.
How did she sound so casual?
No, I couldn’t say it, it was way too embarrassing. These jeans were no ordinary dark wash mid-rise pair; they fit my hips like a glove, made my legs ten percent longer, and my butt twenty percent perkier. When I found them on a shopping trip with Coco, we dubbed them the Look At Me jeans and they never failed to garner attention. So, I could only wear them when I really wanted to feel good about myself and I wondered what possessed me to wear them last night.  
“Seriously, it’s fine,” I tried to assure them as I started pulling the fitted denim over my legs.
The process was going well until I reached my upper thighs and they refused to go higher. I huffed, flopping back onto the bed, sucking my stomach as far as possible, and tugging on the belt loops.
After some strategic shimmying, they finally slid up just below my belly button and I zipped them up triumphantly. Every time I wore them, I forgot how hard it was to get in and out of them.
How had I gotten out of them last night?
The thought made my face burn, and I snatched my royal purple halter top from the floor. As I slipped it over my head, I could not stop my thoughts from wandering as to how we even ended up here. For one thing, Marie and Jordan couldn’t stand each other and I was always trying to play the mediator between them. Again, how did that turn into…this? When did they stop hating each other?
This whole situation felt the same as when I was trying to think of a word, and it was on the tip of my tongue. But no matter how much I thought, the word never came to me. I had a feeling they somehow made up and the thought of them making up made me hopeful and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Even if they did makeup, why was I involved?
I tugged the top down and the buttery soft material stopped at the middle of my ribs. Then, I swept my braids to one shoulder and grabbed the thick straps to tie it. Despite the numerous times I wore this top, my fingers kept fumbling with the material. I huffed as I willed my fingers to cooperate and hoped that no one noticed my struggling.
After a few seconds of trying, a soft, warm pair of fingers brushed up against mine.
“Here, let me help you,” Marie offered.
All I could do was nod and my hands fell into my lap. Every time Marie’s hands grazed the back of my neck, tingles ran up and down my spine.
Stop it, Y/N, my mind hissed at me.
Hopefully, she thought I was shivering.
“Done,” she softly announced.
“Thanks,” I replied, fastening my strappy black Gianvito Rossi pumps.
Once she got back to her side of the bed, she commented, “I didn’t know you had a tattoo there.”
I slapped one of my hands on the back of my neck and stood. “Huh?”
Jordan whistled. “Freshie has ink? Let me see.”
She crossed over to the front of the bed and started pulling at my hand as I tried to back away.
“Jordan, stop, it’s not even that impressive,” I whined.
“Just one little peek, I won’t untie it,” they promised. “Besides, it’s unfair if only Marie got to see.”
Jordan made a good point and I reluctantly turned around and twisted my braids up on top of my head. I shivered when Jordan gently lifted the straps and almost collapsed when their warm breath brushed my skin.
“It looks…nice,” Jordan admitted. “When did you get it?”
“Over the summer, when my dad went to Thailand for a business trip, I went with him and found this cool tattoo parlor near where he was shooting. One night, I stopped by and told the artist I wanted something pretty but hard to find,” I explained.
When Jordan let go of the top, I faced her for the first time. She kind of looked like a puppy, very innocent and hopeful. I never saw that expression on their face before and wondered what it meant.
“Um, this might sound kind of bad but, I don’t remember anything from last night,” Marie admitted.
I whirled around to her. “Me either!” “I didn’t want to say anything but, yeah,” Jordan agreed.
“So, we all blacked out?” Marie asked.
“Maybe; I wonder if anyone else remembers anything,” I mentioned. “By the way, where’s my phone?”
“Oh.” Marie grabbed something from the floor and handed it to me. “Here.”
I tried to turn it on, but the screen was black. “It’s dead, my phone’s never dead.”
“Really?” Marie asked.
I nodded and shoved my phone into my back pocket. “I like to be able to leave when I want or reach anyone I lose while I’m out.”
“Or post about it anywhere,” Jordan added.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying how important it is to maintain a following,” I defended, but my tone was not as light as I meant.
“I’m just saying that this whole thing is weird. I never blackout no matter what,” Jordan insisted.
“Did we all get drugged or something?” Marie pondered.
“Why would someone drug all three of us just for us to…” I glanced at the bed.
“So, we did…” Marie trailed off and I glanced up at her, noting her soft smile at Jordan.
I didn’t need to look at Jordan to know she had a similar expression on her face, but it didn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach. No, I needed that feeling because whatever happened last night was a mistake. They obviously had something going on and I didn’t need to be in the middle. But why did the way they looked at each other make me feel light and miserable?
 The tension in the air was thick and I needed to breathe.
Then, a dull ache panged behind my eyes, and I winced as I cupped my forehead with my hand. “I need coffee, water, a shower, and eggs; not necessarily in that order.”
A few moments later, I was sandwiched between Marie and Jordan, in their masculine form, on a couch in Dusty’s backyard. The Vought Water that ran down my throat was so refreshing that I almost cried. It was cool outside even though the sun was high in the sky. I should have felt cold, but Jordan and Marie were both radiators.
Cate and Andre sat on a couch across from us, both looking a mix of concerned and awkward.
“So, do you guys remember anything from last night?” Jordan asked.
Andre shook his head. “I don’t even know how we got to Dusty’s.”
“It looked like a great party, though,” Cate commented, glancing around at all the discarded beer and liquor bottles scattered through the yard and all the vandalism around Dusty’s house.
“Has anyone checked socials?” I asked.
“You haven’t?” Andre asked, eyebrows raised.
I shook my head. “My phone’s dead.”
Cate handed me hers and I immediately went onto TikTok. Her For You page was flooded with videos from last night. Apparently, Emma had been in her giant form, chugging beers at the pool for a while. Then, there was one of Coco and me doing our “Sweetest Pie” dance in the middle of a dance circle. The next one was Cate cheering Andre on as he did a keg stand.
Then, there was one of Cate, Andre, Jordan, Marie, Coco, and me playing an intense game of flip cup, featuring Coco roasting Andre. Finally, there was one of me and Jordan making out in the middle of the dancefloor. My face burned as I watched myself grab at them desperately and their hands roamed all over me. My finger slipped to the next video where I was now between Jordan and Marie, grinding on the former while the latter stuck her tongue down my throat. Towards the end of the video, Jordan pushed some of my braids to the side and started nibbling on my neck.
My hand subconsciously wandered to the bite marks on my neck.  
“Whoa,” Marie whispered.
Jordan drank some more water, and I returned the phone to Cate.
“You three make a great throuple,” Andre encouraged.
“Shut up,” Jordan admonished.
I flinched at his tone and turned away.
“Okay, so, a lot happened last night and none of us remember,” Marie began, “what’s the last thing anyone remembers?”
Everyone paused for a moment.
“I remember walking out on the Tek Knight interview because I was upset with my dad but…I don’t know why,” Andre said.
“I remember the Tek Knight interview too and…it feels like something else happened but, I can’t remember,” Jordan agreed.
Cate nodded and I admitted that I could hardly think and couldn’t remember anything.
“It’s like someone put us through a time loop or something,” Marie commented.
Jordan perked up at that. “Do any of you know what day it is?”
“Friday,” Cate said with a shrug.
“Thursday?” Andre guessed.
“It’s Saturday; we’ve lost two days!” Jordan exclaimed.
I sipped some more water and nodded. “It’s like the Lotus Casino from Percy Jackson.”
At that, all their eyes were on me, and I shrank back a little.
“What? They’re good books.”
“It’s a little random, Y/N,” Andre pointed out.
“Well, it’s an accurate observation. In the book, people are trapped in the casino because it’s so great, but they don’t realize how much time has passed. Some people were there for years.”
“Anyway, do you think you can see what might have happened?” Marie asked.
I shook my head. “No matter how I think about it, I can’t look into the past.”
Cate suddenly looked somber as she glanced at her phone. “Well, I think I might have an idea who might’ve done this. Look who was at the party last night.”
She held her phone out for all of us to see. On it was a video of some Phi Epsilon guys playing beer pong. One of those Phi Epsilon brothers was Rufus. My stomach sunk at his smug image.
“Shit,” Andre muttered.
“But why would he do anything to us after Marie---” Jordan cut himself off and glanced at her.
“After Marie what?” Cate asked.
Once Marie explained what happened, Cate and Andre seemed stunned, but Andre immediately smiled.
“Now, that’s badass,” he complimented.
Marie smiled. “Thanks.”
“And it could be a reason for him to get revenge,” Cate observed.
“But why would he go after all of us if that’s the case?” I wondered.
Cate pursed her lips. “Well, drugging someone wouldn’t be something out of character for him.”
That’s when Cate shared everything that happened between her and Rufus last year. By the end, Andre and Jordan looked prepared to beat Rufus’ face in while Marie and I comforted Cate.
“I’m so sorry that happened,” I expressed.
“Did you ever report it?” Marie asked.
Cate shook her head. “Like anyone would’ve believed me. Besides, I felt so ashamed that I wanted to pretend it never happened.”
“We can’t let him get away with this,” Jordan argued.
“And what should we do besides beat what’s left of his ass?” Andre questioned.
“We can get him to admit what he did to Cate and us,” Marie offered.
“How?” I asked.
Jordan smirked. “I can come up with a few ways.”
Despite the new resolve in the group, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Besides all the warring feelings inside and the swarm of thoughts in my head, I had this gnawing feeling that we were missing something.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Marie asked, slowly setting a hand on my knee.
Immediately, I jumped. “Um, nothing, it’s just…I feel like we were doing something important.”
“We’re about to nail a psycho, that’s pretty important,” Andre said.
I shook my head. “No, something else…something before all this.”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”
Something was off in their tone that time but I couldn’t take too long to think about it. Seconds later, Coco marched up to us in a pair of white pumps. Her curls were piled on top of her head and her silver House of CB corset top and jeans highlighted her deep skin.
“There you are! I’ve been texting you for the last five minutes!” she huffed.
“Sorry, Coco, my phone’s dead,” I apologized.
Her eyes widened and then she blinked. “What? Never mind, we have to go, the initiate brunch is today.”
“Oh, right, I totally forgot.”
I slipped from under Marie’s hand and sauntered over to Coco. Even though she looked a little panicked and prepared to chew my ear off, she couldn’t have come at a better time.
Jordan stood. “Y/N, what about Rufus?”
He frowned at me, and I had to force myself not to react to his use of my real name.
“I’m sorry, I have to go to the initiate brunch but text me if you need anything,” I rushed.
“And shouldn’t we talk?” Marie added.
Coco’s slim but firm hand wrapped around my wrist, and she started tugging me away.
“We’ll talk later!” I called over my shoulder.
After a few minutes of walking, Coco turned to me and let go of my wrist.
“So, the Look At Me jeans worked,” she commented.
My eyes widened and I faced her. “You talked me into them?”
She frowned. “I don’t know if I would say that but, I helped you make the decision. Did you do too much last night?”
“No…maybe, I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Well, from what I remember, you did let loose, which you deserved, but I wasn’t with you the whole time…obviously.” Coco smiled as we continued walking. “Like I said, based on all those bite marks, they worked like a charm.”
I covered my neck and huffed. “Yeah, they did.”
“Okay, what’s up? You should be annoyingly happy but you look just like you did right before you gave a thirty-minute presentation in Brink’s class.”
The words were right on my tongue, but I couldn’t let them roll off. Coco and I were friends but, we weren’t as close as I was with Emma or Cate. I couldn’t tell her why I reacted every time Jordan or Marie grazed me or why I could barely look at either of them. No, it was way too much for our friendship.
“I just…I feel weird not remembering anything,” I explained. “Why were we at Dusty’s anyway?”
Coco raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t remember? We were all out celebrating our new initiates. We went to Alpha Tau first, then Whiskey Around because Lydia wanted their paloma, and then we ended up at Dusty’s.”
“Did the initiates come with us?” I asked.
“A few did but most of them were done by the time we went to Whiskey Around and Lydia got them rides back to their dorms.” Coco linked our arms together. “Come on, maybe some coffee and food will kickstart your brain.”
Neither ended up helping and for the first time, I wasn’t interested in what anyone was saying in the well-lit dining room table. As was customary, everyone wore breezy pastel or white dresses as servers occasionally refilled glassware and replaced empty dishes on the table. All I could think of was that video and how I was positive everyone at the table had seen it. That video had thousands of views and it was impossible that none of them had seen it.
Behind all their wide smiles and compliments on my blush pink knit Prada skirt set were fangs and vile words ready to be spewed. Sure, they were gushing with some initiates and sharing fun stories from years past, but it was only time before anyone confronted me on it.
“Y/N?”
I blinked and turned to see a pretty girl with chestnut skin and auburn Marley twists tied into a bun looking at me expectantly. “Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was saying that your dancing is amazing. I mean, I knew it was when you and Coco taught Tiana, Erica, and me the ‘Fly Girl’ dance but you were something else at that party.” Her voice had a hint of a southern twang and her eyes seemed to sparkle.
“Thanks,” I said, sipping some more coffee.
She was one of the three black girls who was accepted into Si Chi. Once my phone charged, I immediately went on #RushTok and saw that the girls Coco and I pushed for were accepted. The one sitting next to me was Naomi Banks, a crim major from New Orleans.  Erica Tyler and Tiana Wilkes, a Hero Management and Counting major respectively, were seated across from us near Coco. Out of all our pledges, they had some of the most impressive applications and I had a feeling that I had to stop Coco from skewering Sasha with her arguments.
Plus, I found a video one of Justine’s friends made that featured her gobsmacked expression at her rejection letter on Bid Day. The face nearly made me tremble with glee.
At least a couple of good things happened during the haze.
Naomi tapped my shoulder. “It’s no wonder those two were all over you.”
I almost coughed on the coffee and covered my mouth.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized.
I shook my head and set the porcelain cup down. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. In the future, be careful about mentioning anything from a night out with any of your new sisters.”
Naomi nodded and took a bite out of a piece of bacon. “Thanks, Y/N.”
“No problem. Did you enjoy last night?”
“Yes! I got to get to know so many of the girls here and everyone seems really nice.” Naomi leaned closer to me. “Liliana over there said that Vince from Sigma Kappa asked her for my Snap. He’s pretty cute for a white boy.”
“Sigma Kappa is a top house and Vince is one of the more eligible ones.”
“That’s good. Obviously, I won’t go after him if you or anyone else is interested.”
I smiled at her. “I appreciate it, Naomi, but I think you’re good.”
“Oh, and were you serious when you said you’d help me with my Intro to Forensics class?”
“Of course, a Si Chi girl always helps a sister in need.”
Naomi sighed. “That’s great; the TA’s a real dick, no offense.”
“None taken.”
I covered my laugh by shoving another forkful of French toast in my mouth. The sugary morsel was almost enough to lift my spirits. In Naomi’s defense, Jordan was the toughest out of all the crim TAs to the point they were borderline sadistic.
“Jordan’s tough but, they’re insanely passionate and dedicated to their work. So, they expect everyone to be at their standard,” I explained.
“So, they were like that even when you had them?” Naomi asked.
I nodded. “They terrified me in both forms but, they were okay once I got to know them.”
“I don’t know if I want to get to know them; I just want to pass.”
“It’s okay, I’ll help you.”
Then, I started wondering how the Rufus investigation was going. Since I left Dusty’s, Cate was the only one to reach out, asking to check in. It was a little weird how I got antsy that it wasn’t Jordan or Marie especially when I had no idea what to say to them.
Sydney tapped a fork against a champagne flute, jerking me from my thoughts. She stood at the head of the table, wearing a lavender mini Chanel tweed set. Her hair was in a half updo and she stood with perfect posture.
“First, I would like to welcome all of our new initiates to Si Chi,” she chimed.
She allowed for about ten seconds of applause.
“It is an honor to have found such great women to continue the legacy of this house. When I first came here, I was petrified of not being able to meet any of the house standards. Then, I met my mentor, Isabel Perkins, and she helped me see that we don’t meet these standards on our own----we meet them with our sisters.”
That time, she allowed for fifteen seconds of applause.
“That’s why I hope that you will connect with all of your big sisters since all of them are still here because they continue to maintain the good name of our house, which brings me to the second thing I wanted to discuss.” Sydney paused. “Obviously, we are all glad that we found a match in our new sisters but know that your place here is not permanent. We Si Chi girls hold ourselves to high standards academically and socially and if there is a concern that one of our sisters, new or returning, does not meet those standards, we cannot guarantee her place in our house.”
I swallowed thickly at her words and wondered if she was piercing me with her gaze.
“That being said, this is a place of sisterhood and a safe place for all women and myself and the rest of leadership work diligently to keep it that way,” She continued. “Will the leadership team stand?”
With that, Lydia, Sasha, Alina, and I stood from our seats. For the first time, I felt like I was under a microscope in the Si Chi house and wished everyone stopped looking at me.
“These girls, no, these women are the ones I have entrusted to help continue this house and select our new sisters. Please feel free to say hi to them whenever you see them or let them know if you have any concerns,” she announced.
During that round of applause, my phone started buzzing on my chair. I tried to discreetly grab it but hesitated when I saw Jordan’s name on the caller ID. I quickly silenced it and smiled at the crowd of girls looking at me.
Then, the phone started buzzing again and I rejected it again.
“Looks important, Y/N,” Sasha mouthed.
I hoped I hid my glare with my grin well enough and when I sat down, the phone went off again. I huffed, snatched it, and hurried into the nearest hallway, muttering my apologies as I went. Of course, it was a video call and when I answered, Jordan’s face filled the screen.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jordan demanded.
I glanced around for onlookers and continued further away from the dining room. “Could you keep it down? I’m still at brunch.”
“Still?” Marie asked in the background.
“Yes.”
“And you couldn’t answer my texts?” Jordan griped.
“I didn’t get anything,” I insisted.
Based on how hard their jaw clenched, I decided not to mention that my phone was on Do Not Disturb. I tried not to think too hard about how they got past it.
“Did you find anything on Rufus?” I asked.
“No, Rufus may have gotten us all to Dusty’s, but he didn’t do anything to our heads,” Jordan admitted.
“And, they’re going to stay away from everyone since Cate still doesn’t want to make the report,” Marie added.
I nodded and started pacing in the hall. Something was off about all this and I still couldn’t tell what it was.
“I know that face, you’re not saying something, freshie,” Jordan called.
Sometimes, I hated how observant they were.
“It’s just…something has felt off about this whole thing. I mean, yes, Rufus is the creep of all creeps but he’s also a moron. He wants things that are quick and easy and getting into all our heads without being noticed takes a lot of planning,” I reasoned.
“You’re right. So, whoever messed with us is smart and didn’t have to make contact with any of us to make us lose our memories,” Marie continued.
“Or if they did have to make contact, it’s someone we’re comfortable with,” Jordan remarked.
At his words, the greatest epiphany hit me. There was only one person in this entire school with that kind of capability and the thought that they did this made the French toast start to rise in my throat. I hoped that I was wrong, and I knew I couldn’t tell my theory to Jordan or Marie; not yet.
“Okay, did you find out anything else?” I asked.
Then, Marie explained the trackers that were implanted in all of us and I frowned.
“Don’t our phones already do that?” I argued.
“You can leave your phone anywhere,” Marie countered.
“Touché. So, how do I get it out of me without causing further damage?”
“Um, you can come by my dorm, or I can come by the house and get rid of it for you.”
“I can stop by yours. I want to catch up with Emma anyway, give me, like, an hour or two.”
“Sure.”
I was about to hang up when Jordan stopped me and seemed to step away from Marie for a second.
“Look, I know this morning was weird and you probably still feel really uncomfortable but, I just wanted to tell you that we’re okay,” he said.
I hesitated. “‘Okay’?”
“Yeah, like, last night doesn’t have to mean anything so, don’t worry about it.”
“Uh huh.”
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s all fine. I have to go.”
When I hung up, everything was blurry, and I leaned against the wall behind me. The tears were warm against my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them. Last night meant nothing to Jordan and why would it? They’d had plenty of one-night stands and hookups, why would last night be any different? Why would I be any different? Marie probably felt the same and it was stupid to even think that there was some small glimmer of something.
Nothing was better, nothing would help me get back on track.
“Y/N?”
I straightened up at the sound of Sasha’s voice and swiped at my face. “Oh, hi.”
“That didn’t sound too good,” she expressed as she strutted closer to me.
With each step she took, her faux pitiful expression got more and more gleeful. I forced myself to stand as erect as I could.
“I appreciate the concern, Sasha, but it’s none of your business,” I defended.
My voice did not have nearly the bite it needed at the moment but all I wanted to do was get away from her. Even though she was shorter than me, it was like her presence took up the entirety of the hallway.
“Oh, but it is, you actually made it everyone’s business with those videos.”
The last word rolled off her tongue like dice and I thought her tongue poked out a little.
“I didn’t take or post them,” I hissed.
“But you know in this day and age you have to always be on the lookout; every Si Chi girl knows that, Y/N.”
I tried to push past her but she blocked me. “We should be getting back.”
“Oh, but we’re just getting started,” Sasha insisted. “You know, Sydney’s speech about sisters helping each other meet house standards really stuck with me. I’ve always seen you as a little sister, Y/N, one who thinks she knows everything and can’t stop messing up.”
“That’s funny, Sasha, because I thought you were my big sister who always needed my notes to pass any of her classes,” I rushed.
Sasha narrowed her eyes at me. “I think you need help meeting our social standards and I’m more than happy to assist. I know you thought that you were hot shit once you got in with the Top Five but, it sounds like you’re on your way out. Last night, Jordan and that new girl used you and spat you out.”
“Stop it, Sasha,” I whispered.
“I’m telling you the truth. If you’re not careful, there may not be a place for you in Si Chi anymore. I mean, everyone’s seen the videos and I would hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable here.”
She grinned wider than the Cheshire cat and I didn’t know whether I wanted to wipe the grin off her or disappear into a puddle of my tears. I didn’t get to decide as Sydney appeared from the other end of the hallway and made her way over to us.
“What’s going on here?” Sydney asked.
Sasha beamed at Sydney. “I was just telling Y/N how inspired I was about your speech and how I want to continue helping her meet our house standards.”
Sydney glanced at me. “Well, I appreciate your dedication to mentoring a younger sister, but Y/N is one of the brightest women to enter this house. I wish I could stick around and see what she’ll do next year.”
I tried not to gape at her. “Thanks, Sydney.”
“Of course.” Sydney turned to Sasha. “And I know that you understood that I meant what I said about this being a safe space for all women. While we do hold ourselves to a high caliber, we do not shove a sister who struggles. If we did, I can’t imagine what Amber or Hailey would have done if they knew half the things we did freshman year.”
“Y-yes, right,” Sasha sputtered.
“Anyway, we should get back and review the events for next week with the girls,” Sydney instructed.
Sasha nearly sped down the hallway while Sydney and I strolled after her. We didn’t say anything, but I could have burst from the gratitude I had for her.
A couple of hours later, Marie let me into her dorm, and I sulked at the fact that Emma wasn’t there.
“Where’d she go?” I asked.
“She found some clue about some weird dude we ran into after you left with Coco,” Marie commented. “I guess she decided to go after him.”
I nodded, partly infuriated since that sounded like something Emma would do. She could have at least texted me. I was hoping for some sort of buffer between Marie and me.
So, I sat down on Emma’s bed and played with a fluffy yellow pillow. Marie sat down across from me and looked down at her hands.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
Marie looked up at me. “A little but I’ll try to make it stop as soon as I can.”
I nodded and dryly laughed. “Last night was really wild, huh?”
“Yeah…should we…talk about it?” she asked.
I shrugged and kept picking at the material on the pillow. “Only if you want to.”
“I know this is so weird but, you and Jordan have also been acting weird. They told me that last night was ‘okay’ and that we didn’t have to make it weird but it’s already weird!” she exclaimed.
“They told me the same thing,” I admitted.
“Do you agree with them?”
“Do you?”
“I asked you first.” She barely made eye contact with me and I started playing with the pillow.
“I don’t know…I don’t know how I feel about any of this,” I confessed.
“Do you regret it?” Marie asked.
“I can’t regret something I don’t remember.”
The words landed like a bomb and I wanted to take it all back. Marie flinched at my words and I wanted to make it better.
“I mean I…I think I’d have a better idea if I remembered. But I also think that you and Jordan should talk again,” I tried slowly.
She frowned. “Why?”
“I mean you two are close now and I know something happened earlier but I don’t know what but I feel as though I’m the biggest third wheel in the history of third wheels around you two.”
It was quiet for a few seconds, and I wanted to use my ability to figure out what would be the quickest way out of there.
“You’re not a third wheel,” Marie maintained. “I like it when you’re around and I like it when you’re with me and Jordan.”
“I like being around you too, but we’re friends and it’s only natural.”
Marie paused. “Oh. I mean, I like being friends but, yeah, never mind.”
“What is it?”
Marie shook her head. “Nothing. Let me get that tracker out of you.”
I nodded but I was dying to know what she was going to say. Did I totally mess up? Did I misstep again?
She knelt in front of me and touched my left shoulder. Marie’s brown eyes met mine in a silent question and I nodded. As soon as I did, she slipped my cardigan to the side and brushed her hand up and down my neck and shoulder until she sensed something.
“Found it,” she breathed.
I nodded.
“Just stay still, okay?”
“Okay.”
My knee started bouncing and before I could stop it, Marie placed her free hand on it but stayed focused on my shoulder. She traced her hand across my shoulder, dragging something in her path. Eventually, when she got a few inches away from my neck, something slipped out and I yelped at the sting.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she questioned.
“No, it just stung,” I insisted as I covered the wound.
Marie held her palm towards me, and I narrowed my eyes at the tiny, bloodied tracker in her grasp. “Now you’re safer.”
“Thanks.”
She slipped a band-aid onto the wound and pulled my cardigan back in place. “How was brunch?”
“Good. We have three new black girls.” “That’s awesome!”
“Yeah. They all better survive Hell Week.”
Marie groaned. “Does that mean you’ll have more to do?”
“Kind of but it’s way easier than Rush Week.”
“Does that mean we’ll be able to hang out more? Class doesn’t count.”
“I hope so, I mean, if you want to.”
“I just told you I like being around you, of course I want to.”
Her smile somehow made me feel better, actually, her smile always did that. When I thought about it, I rarely saw Marie upset or frowning. She was always so bright and shiny, almost like Luke. All I knew was that I didn’t want to take her shine away.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied.
Then, I saw a brief premonition of my prime suspect. They smiled so sadly at me.
“I wish you hadn’t seen that,” they whispered.
When I blinked, Marie’s smile wavered a little.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, I just have to check on something,” I insisted.
“Oh, do you need any help?”
“No, I’ll text you if something comes up. Thanks for getting rid of the tracker!”
Cate’s dorm had the calmest energy out of all my friends. It might have had something to do with all the green accents, from the wallpaper to the various green pillows on her bed. Last year, she got really into color psychology, and I hoped that it worked as I sat across from her on her comfy rug.
“I saw that you got three new black sisters. Congratulations!” she cheered.
“Thanks. They’re all really cool, and I need them to make it through Hell Week,” I joked as well as I could.
She nodded and grabbed her bong from her coffee table. “With you as their big sister, they have hope.” She took a hit and extended it to me.
“No, thanks.”
She frowned. “You’re always open to smoking.”
“I had a couple of Bloody Marys at brunch, and I don’t want to risk crossfading.”
It wasn’t a total lie, but I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this conversation. Cate’s big blue eyes eyed me for what felt like an eternity, but she shrugged and set the bong in front of her.
“Fair enough,” she conceded. “So, you, Marie, and Jordan, huh?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know…”
Cate’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know? I saw the three of you together. Even though you were acting awkward as hell around them.”
“Well, I’m still processing everything that happened and the fact that I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s pretty obvious what happened, Y/N.”
Even though her voice had a teasing lilt, it felt like she was spitting in my face.
“I mean, I know what happened, but I hate how I don’t remember any of it. It’s been driving me nuts all day and I could barely focus on the Si Chi brunch.”
Cate straightened up. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to invalidate your experience.”
“And it sucks that this is my experience, you know. I mean, I don’t know how I feel about either of them and then I go and have sex with both of them? What kind of freak am I?”
“You’re not a freak, Y/N, and, you’re going to hate this, but it’s pretty obvious how you feel about both of them.”
 I cut my eyes to Cate. “It doesn’t feel obvious. I’m so confused, and I don’t know how to act around either of them anymore. It used to be easy to mess with Jordan but now I freeze up whenever their name pops up on my phone. And Marie is so nice an-and pretty and funny. Her powers are insane, and it makes sense that Vought scooped her up now.”
“You don’t sound confused to me, Y/N.”
“Really, because I feel confused all over!”
Cate held her hands up and pushed her bong aside. “Okay, that’s fair. You know, we’re doing a project in my advanced psych class about denial, and I’ve found that a lot of people in denial just go around in circles, driving themselves nuts because they won’t admit something.”
But there was nothing for me to admit. I was clear that Jordan and Marie had something going on and I didn’t want to be an interloper. Even though Marie said she liked having me around, I was positive it was just as a friend and to quell any fights between her and Jordan. But, their fighting wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
When I told Cate as much, she huffed. “How are you this smart but this dense?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been flirting with both for the past few weeks. All of you can’t seem to stop talking about the others and they’re both willing to kill for you. You obviously can’t stop thinking about them and I’m sure they’re the same.”
She looked at me as though I should know what she was saying but I felt lost. Then, I started thinking about how Marie’s smile made me feel like melting inside and how I instantly wanted to help her when her schedule got messed up or how I felt warm and fuzzy when Jordan got between me and Chad, and Thad.
“It’s impossible,” I whispered.
“What’s impossible?” Cate asked.
“I…I can’t like two people at the same time. I’m not in middle school anymore!”
“What’s so bad about liking multiple people?”
“Because you’re just supposed to pick one, Cate, everyone else has managed to do that. There’s something wrong with me.” “Hey,” Cate softly grabbed my hands, “there’s nothing wrong with you. If anything, it shows how much love you have to give.”
“That’s so cheesy.”
“But it’s true.” She smiled. “Why are you so afraid to say it?”
I hesitated. “Because then it would be real and if it’s real, that means that I could get hurt, twice.”
Then, Cate pulled me into her arms and slowly rocked. “Everyone’s afraid of being hurt but, it’s a part of life. It may not feel like it but if it does happen, you’ll get over it.”
“I know but, at the same time, I’m so scared. I mean, I didn’t see any of this coming and I see most things coming.”
Cate hummed in reply. The mix of vanilla and weed wafting off of her was enough to make me sleepy.
“Plus, I imagined my first time to be a little more romantic than a drunken night at Dusty’s.”
Cate paused and pushed me so that we were eye to eye. “What?”
I shrunk a little and looked down at my hands. “Please don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not giving you any look.”
“Yes, you are, all pitiful and shocked. Excuse me for having a Cher Horowitz approach to sex.”
Cate relaxed. “I’m sorry, I’m not judging, and I shouldn’t be surprised since you have all those standards.”
“Cate, have you seen how picky I am about shoes?”
“Yes but, I’m shocked it hasn’t come up before.”
I shrugged and picked at my deep purple lounge pants. Cate was not the first person to express that before, but it wasn’t my fault that I was raised to have standards and all the guys I’d been around were uninteresting at best and disgusting at worst.
“I didn’t always look like this,” I muttered. “Emma would probably lie and say that I was always a bombshell or something but it’s not true. I was fine in elementary but middle school was hell; I struggled with my weight, and I was taller than everyone else, and don’t get me started on being the only black girl in class.”
Cate didn’t say anything, and I continued.
“There was this one black boy, Matthew, who made making me miserable his mission. When I would run on the playground, he screamed ‘Earthquake, everyone run!’. Every day, he made sure I knew how ugly and fat I was, and I didn’t need it because my parents, mainly my mom, told me it too. The summer before high school, I was sick of it and started learning all the tricks on how to glow up; skin, hair, makeup, everything.” I sighed. “I did a little better in high school, but no one asked me out and I ended up going to prom with a group of friends, which was fun but I wished that I was one of the girls who received one of those grand promposals. When I got a vision of how great my future was going to be, it gave me hope that Matthew and everyone else was wrong.”
“They are wrong, and Matthew can go suck a dick,” Cate affirmed.
I chuckled. “Anyway, I still get nervous around guys, and the whole being attractive thing is new to me.”
“But you’re comfortable around Jordan and Marie.”
I nodded. “I am but I don’t understand it. I’ve never liked anyone who wasn’t a straight guy before, and I don’t know what any of it means.”
“It means that sexuality is a spectrum, and you lean towards the not straight side. You don’t have to know everything right now, Y/N, and I know it’s easier said than done with you but, life has surprises, and it wouldn’t be fun without them,” Cate encouraged.
“I hate surprises.”
“Well, get used to them.” I smiled but paused. “What if they don’t like me back?”
“I highly doubt that since I’ve seen how they both look at you. Honestly, being around you three can get a little uncomfortable,” she teased. “But, in a world where they reject you, you will always have me, and I will make their lives worse in ways that Matthew wouldn’t even dream of.”
Cate’s tone and smile were earnest, and it made me feel better about ranting. I was stunned that I told her my secret, but I guess she had one of those high trust faces that made anyone want to spill everything. For the first time in a long time, I felt relaxed, like I’d just finished the most intense shiatsu session ever. It was crazy but I felt like I was breathing better than before.
It was crazy what secrets could do to a person.
The thought made me gulp but I grinned at Cate and hugged her again.
“Thanks for listening,” I muttered.
“Of course. Thanks for finally being honest,” she returned.
I tried not to bristle in her grip as I pulled away. We both stood and slowly made our way towards the door.
“So, are you going to go with a grand gesture to tell Jordan and Marie how you feel or are you going to play it cool?” Cate teased.
“I’m not sure,” I started. “I still can’t get over what you said about how they’d kill for me. How could you tell?”
Cate paused. “I mean, they glare at anyone who looks your way in a flirty sense.”
“But that doesn’t mean they’d kill for me.”
“I think you’re overthinking things, Y/N.”
“Maybe.” I stopped in front of her door and faced her. “You know, it’s funny how you said that life’s full of surprises and that I should get used to them. Remember how you thought Rufus messed with our heads?”
“Yeah, because he did,” Cate said slowly.
“Actually, Jordan and Marie already interrogated him, and he probably got us all to Dusty’s but there’s no way he could have wiped all our memories without touching us,” I informed.
“Wow, that’s crazy.”
“Yeah, and Jordan brought up a good point. They said if someone had to touch us to wipe our memories, it would have to be someone we knew and were comfortable with. They’re right but I also know someone who could do it without touching anyone if her gloves are off.”
Cate paled as she listened, and I felt my anger rising from deep within my stomach. “Y/N, I can explain.”
“You can explain how you violated all of us?” I hissed.
“It wasn’t like that, please!”
She reached out to grab my arm and as she grasped it, I realized that she wasn’t wearing her leather gloves. My mouth opened but everything faded to black.
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