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sadesluvr · 5 months

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Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present.

A/N: Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees.

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers -

How could you say no?

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter.

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully.

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance.

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away.

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre.

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar.

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded.

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out.

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator.

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,”

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute.

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife.

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…”

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you.

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering.

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion.

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

#florence writes!!#my magnum opus #for now #william afton smut #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut

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writinghotchner · 3 months

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i need more girl dad aaron before i lose it.

you and me both, babeyyy.

hotch x fem!reader sfw, no explicit material

you come home from work to see aaron and your 4 year old daughter having a tea party :')

you step inside your house, shrugging off your coat and toeing off your shoes. your immediately hit with your little girls infectious giggles and your husbands low voice. without even knowing what's going on in the playroom, you huff out a laugh to yourself as you make your way through the living room and down the hall to where your family is. you lean against the door frame watching their shenanigans.

aaron his basically crouched down on a toddler sized pink chair with an equally as small toddler table in between the two. he has a pink and purple tiara sitting on top of his head and your daughter has somehow wrangled a pink tutu around his waist. she is opposite him, sitting comfortably in a chair fit for her size.

"is this how i drink it?" aaron asks the little girl, holding his tea cup upside down trying to sip from the solid bottom of the cup. she is absolutely in fits over this gig. "no daddy!" she tells him through gasps of laughter. "like this!" she holds her cup right side up and takes a sip of imaginary tea - with her pink out, of course - to show him how its supposed to be held.

"oh, right, how silly of me." he turns the cup over. "so like this?" he asks, but this time he has the handle to his lips and his big fingers holding the cup by its side. the little girl erupts into breathless laughter again, nearly falling out of her chair.

"daddy!" she yells incredulously, trying to be stern through her laughter. she gets up and walks over to him and takes the cup out of his hand, turning it around the right way and puts it back into his hands. "like this!"

"okay, thank you so much for showing me how to hold it correctly." he smiles, taking a sip of air.

"you're very welcome." the little girl says back, both of them using their serious voices.

"should we be using fancy british voices for our fancy tea party?" he asks her using a vaguely bad british accent.

she tries to answer him back, copying the way he sounds but she can't and it makes her fall into a fit of giggles all over again.

"i can't do it!" she yells in hysterics.

"well why not!" aaron asks her, still using the accent.

"because i'm four!"

"oh well goodness me!" aaron says back in mock surprise. "this whole time i thought you were an old lady."

the little girl's mouth drops. "I'M NOT OLD! I'M 4!"

"4 could be considered old to some people." he tells her, back in his normal voice, and very seriously.

"who?!"

"2 year olds, probably."

"DADDY!" the little girl shrieks, her fits of giggles once again taking over her body.

"what...is going on in here!" you finally announce your presence and both of them look over at you startled - giving the same expression which makes you laugh out loud.

"mommy!" your daughter yells, flying off the chair and into your open arms.

"hi, baby. are you having a good tea time with daddy?"

she nods her head furiously and then leaves your arms to clamor into aaron's lap. you laugh again and follow her, leaning over to kiss your husband on the lips and then take a seat in the extra chair next to him.

your daughter hands you a little tea cup and you hold it upside down and raise it to your lips. "like this right?"

both of them erupt in laughter so infectious it makes you join in right along with them.

#fic request #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #*reader #*mine #can you tell i didnt know how to actually end this lmao #im tired and i have a migraine the brain aint workin today 😤

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sugarybisous · 1 year

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sharpay evans stood out as a character not only because of her pink and stylish wardrobe but because of her confidence and the way she wasn’t afraid of going after what she wanted and knew she deserved. she worked hard for her passions and for her goals, she was also a QUEEN of manifestation.

(don’t believe me? listen to the words she uses in this iconic musical number!)

do not settle, plan your dreams and go after them!

throughout the whole movie nobody can deny sharpay wasn’t ambitious. she knew EXACTLY what she wanted and never hesitated to go after it. keep this mindset. if you want something in life it’s already yours you just have to go out and grab it. make your mind limitless, dreams are supposed to be grand and huge, just because other people don’t understand them doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant for you it was put into your head for a reason. ♡︎

stand out from the crowd and don’t be afraid to be “extra”!

who wants to be like everybody else? sharpay stood out the moment she stepped on screen and her peers around her laughed at her for being “snobbish” when she was simply a girl who knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to express herself. we live in a world where people will tell you what you have to be and what things you have to like based on your race,gender,ethnicity, pretty much anything but break out of the norm! be expressive! leave your own mark on the world. do NOT water yourself down to be more digestible for others.

you fell? get right back up.

thoughout the whole franchise sharpay’s hard work would be overlooked or messed with, despite that she continued to get up and start over all over again. no one is deserving of you loosing out on the things you want in life. whenever there is an obstacle you need to pull out your confidence and hold it HIGH. if you know you deserve an amazing life why are you letting little road blocks stop you? do not let anyone steal your hard earned spotlight.

have confidence!

it’s a non-negotiable. build yourself up, become “snobbish” in the way that you love EVERYTHING about yourself. become “selfish” in the way that you are constantly looking out after yourself and choose to put yourself first always. walk around like you are THAT girl because you are.

WADROBE & ACCESSORY BREAKDOWN:

sharpay was always dressed up. she was known for her signature color pink which she incorporated a lot but didn’t shy away from glamorizing in different colors as well. she was often seen wearing a handbag with almost every outfit or her dog in her other hand or both even! (she even dressed up her own dog) from mini skirts to high heels to a shimmery hair scarf on her head to huge sunglasses or her signature tiara, she loved bedazzled things and glitter and sparkle, she always accessorized with necklaces such as her signature s or star, bangles on her arms and some kind of hat or belt on her. with eye catching materials on her like fur or the black dress with flattering holes on the side. she also glamorized and made the things she owned to her prefference like a perfect example is her iconic locker, don’t be afraid to make things to your liking if it isn’t available! be creative and crafty! if it’s not made already, take matters into your own hands!

this was something i have been so excited to work on for a while now as i have lots of things in common with sharpay, everyone deserves to think they are amazing!

#self help #how to be like sharpay evans #sharpay evans #hsm #highschoolmusical #ashley tisdale #itgirl

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clovermunson · 1 year

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king hargrove — b. hargrove

summary: billy never saw himself as a dad, but he’d never trade his two little girls for anything— even when they ask him to dress up like a princess and have a tea party with them.

warnings: tooth-rooting fluff. like eating two bags of cotton candy and chasing it with a 72 oz. big gulp soda at the state fair. brief mentions of billy’s upbringing (not detailed). bee’s full name is beatrice but she’s called bee. oh and a mention of mechanic!billy. no use of “y/n”. first fic i’ve written and actually finished in…months? i think?? that’s about it really.

pairings: billy hargrove x fem/mom!reader

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i told y’all motherfuckers i was gonna give billy something happy, and here it is!! it’s the most i’ve written in about two weeks and y’all can thank this lovely goon: @bookshelf-dust for that. anyway, as always likes and reblogs (especially reblogs) are greatly appreciated, i just ask that you DO NOT copy and repost my writing and claim it as your own!! — xo, morgan🖤

Billy Hargrove was many things. A bad influence, a womanizer, some might even say an antagonizer, of sorts. And while he’d agree to being all of those things before he met you, if someone would’ve told him that he’d become the father to a little girl in the spring of 1989, and then again in the summer of 1991, he would’ve told them they were crazy.

But now as he sat at the ridiculously small white dining table set, on the floor with his legs outstretched rather than in one of the dainty chairs that he was sure would crumble under his weight, he was certain that he wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

“Daddy, you gotta wear it.” Bee, your youngest daughter, had shoved a pink feather boa at him, making him jump back.

“Pleeeease? And this?” Juno, your eldest daughter had asked, holding a tiny plastic tiara out to him, “pretty please?”

“Okay okay.” Billy held his hands up, finally accepting defeat before letting Juno place the tiara on his head as he took the boa, wrapping the feathered accessory around his neck, then smiling for his girls.

Lord, if the guys at the mechanic shop knew about this, they’d never stop giving him hell over it.

“You look pretty.” Juno giggled at him as she pretended to pour two cups of tea.

“Pretty, huh?” Billy chuckled, “I don’t think the pink goes with my shirt.” He tugged at the material of his dark red shirt, showing how it contrasted.

“Oh well.” Bee shrugged, “gotta wear it.”

“Bossy.” Billy couldn’t help but laugh at the miniature version of himself, but if anyone asked where Bee got it from, he’d say it was from you.

“Get it from my daddy.” Bee didn’t miss a beat with her response, further showing just how much she was like her dad. All Billy could do was smile to himself, knowing that she was right.

Before he knew it, Juno had offered him an empty teacup, and he’d be damned if he turned it down. The floral patterned cup was abnormally tiny in his hand, but he still brought it up to his lips, pretending to take a drink.

“Pinky up.” Juno was quick to correct him, wiggling her tiny pinky at him.

At first, Billy looked confused. Why did he need to have his pinky up?

He felt Bee’s little hand grab at his, trying her hardest to raise his pinky.

“You’ve gotta put your pinky up, daddy.” She tried to pry his pinky from the tiny cup handle, giggling as Billy fought back with her.

“Daddy!” She whined, pouting at him. It didn’t take much for Bee to get her way. All she had to do was get those big ocean blue eyes a little misty, and she’d convince anyone to get her whatever she wanted— mostly her dad and her uncle Steve.

“Alright, alright.” Billy raised his pinky, waving it at Bee, “better?”

Bee simply nodded, appeased with her dad’s actions as she sipped her fake-tea.

You’d been carrying a basket full of laundry when you’d heard the giggling coming from the girls’ room. Instead of going on your way to the laundry room, you’d stopped just out of sight, leaning against the wall beside the doorway to listen in. Though you had to admit, seeing Billy in a tiara was quite the spectacle.

“You’re the king of the castle!” Juno exclaimed, quickly jumping up from the wooden chair to twirl around, her yellow polka-dot skirt twisting around her, the sleeves of her white blouse flowing from the small breeze she’d created.

“Is that so?” Billy watched as Bee joined in with her sister, both of them twirling around the table, skipping and jumping over their scattered toys.

“Mhm.” Bee agreed, “you’re the king. The king makes the rules.”

“I dunno about that, kiddo.” Billy snorted, “I would say I’m pretty influential around here though.”

“Infuwentual?” Bee stopped in her tracks, a bewildered look on her face. She struggled with the word, but Billy had quickly realized his mistake by using a big word.

“Influential.” He gently corrected her, “it means that daddy’s got a lot to do and say with what happens around here.”

Bee nodded, seemingly understanding the meaning of the new word. “So you make all the rules?”

“Not necessarily, babygirl.” Billy shook his head, smiling. “I do get to help make them though.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.” Bee crossed her arms, expressing that she didn’t agree with that decision— or whoever made it. Clearly an attitude she’d picked up from her father.

You smiled to yourself at that. Of course you and Billy made the rules together, and it was a very delicate balance of give and take between the two of you. But if your little girl could have it her way, she’d be running the world in no longer than two weeks’ time.

“But that’s how the world works, Bee.” Billy shrugged, “what can you do?”

Bee sat for a moment, seemingly contemplating her choices. Finally she spoke, and her little voice carried so much certainty with it, that even you were sure you’d let her have whatever she demanded. “Become the queen.”

“You wanna become the queen, is that right?” Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing, feigning shock.

Bee nodded proudly, her plastic tiara nearly falling from her head.

“Well, you’ve gotta be a princess for now.” Billy had made it fairly obvious that he could match his daughter’s sass, “you do such a good job at that already.” He adjusted her tiara, making sure it was straight again.

“‘Course I do.” Bee sounded almost offended, “I am the princess.” She annunciated the word, only to add emphasis.

“Yeah, the mean princess.” Juno stuck her tongue out at her younger sister, knowing that Bee would retaliate.

“How rude!” Bee tossed one of the little building blocks at Juno, pouting.

“Meanie.” Juno threw a block back at her, which Billy had caught with astonishingly quick reflexes, making both of his daughters’ eyes widen.

“Girls.” Billy’s voice was firm, yet gentle with them, “that’s enough.”

“Sorry…” both girls mumbled, afraid to even look at each other.

“Neither of you are in trouble.” Billy felt the need to clarify, as he always felt like the bad guy when he had to scold them, “you just can’t call each other names and be mean to each other.”

The girls nodded in unison, showing that they understood the ground rules.

Since Billy had become a father, he’d become more gentle and less abrasive. He’d never once yelled at either of your girls, choosing to raise them with the kind of gentleness and unconditional love that you’d find in a family movie— the kind of home that Billy wasn’t lucky enough to have growing up.

He’d be damned if he didn’t give his little girls the best life they could possibly have though. Juno was the surprise baby, and sure money got tight at times, but he always worked extra shifts and overtime to make sure she had everything she needed and wanted. Then when Bee came along, Billy had been promoted to assistant manager, which came with a nice paycheck every week that was more than enough to support your little family.

Instead of continuing on to the laundry room, you decided instead to turn on your heel, heading back to the living room with a bright, almost dopey smile on your face from witnessing possibly the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. You set the basket of laundry down on the couch, making your way to the kitchen where you began to prepare dinner.

After about twenty minutes, Billy had gotten himself out of the princess tea party by claiming that he had ‘kingly duties’ to attend to, and while the girls were upset over it, they allowed him to leave.

“Mmm,” Billy hummed as he approached you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, then he inhaled the aroma of the kitchen, “whatcha making?”

“Spaghetti.” You responded with a giggle, “or as Bee calls it, ‘pasghetti’.”

“She’ll get it eventually.” Billy chuckled, “she’s got her mama’s brains for sure.”

“And your attitude.” You laughed, scrunching your nose, “what a killer combo.”

“Tell me about it.” Billy grinned, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your neck.

“William.” You scolded him, giggling as you shimmied out of his grasp, “not here.”

Before Billy could even put some space between the two of you, Juno and Bee had come barreling down the stairs, stopping just at the threshold between the kitchen and living room.

“Can we have ice cream for dinner?” They both asked, their puppy dog eyes on full display.

You looked at Billy, a brow arched as you continued to stir the pasta noodles.

“Don’t look at me.” Billy held his hands up, shaking his head, giving you that million-dollar smile of his, “I didn’t tell them they could”.

“But you’re the king!” Bee shouted, the anticipation was clear in her voice.

“And if the king says we can have ice cream for dinner…” Juno trailed off, looking up at her dad.

“I may be the king, but mama’s the queen. What she says goes around here.” Billy leaned over to press a kiss to your temple, knowing that the girls wouldn’t even try to argue with you over it. “Even I can’t get her to change her mind.”

Juno sulked, padding over to her chair at the table, seemingly having accepted defeat.

Bee took a big whiff of the air, then smiled. “Mama, is that pasghetti?”

“It is spaghetti”. You gently corrected, knowing she still wouldn’t say it right anyway. “Go sit at the table with your sister and I’ll make you a plate.”

“Okay.” She chirped, nearly sprinting to the dining table, taking the seat right next to Juno.

Billy watched as the girls chatted amongst themselves, their senseless babbling making his chest swell with pride and an almost overwhelming sense of joy. Everything he never knew he needed was right in front of him, and he wouldn’t trade it for the anything. He leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he felt that warm sense of comfort wash over him that he’d been waiting years for.

Seeing the opportunity to tease your husband, you took it without so much as a second thought, though you kept your focus on making dinner.

“You may be the king, but you make a pretty princess too.”

Billy’s eyes darted over to you, and he smirked to himself. He knew that arguing was pointless, because the queen was always right.

#this shit killed me to write #cutest shit i’ve ever written #girl!dad!billy can have my life #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #clovermunson’s fics #morgan’s writings

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misc-obeyme · 11 months

Note

My friend gave me this paper crowns and I was like “man don’t I look good in a crown.”Knows wondering how the brothers react and dateables

Hey there!

Okay so I went with the idea that MC made the crowns for the characters and then gifted it to them. So this is their reactions!

Thank you for the request!

GN!MC gives paper crowns to the characters

Warnings: None!

Lucifer

What is this, MC? You made him a crown? If you give it to him randomly, he's not likely to wear it. Instead, he's going to put it somewhere on his desk where he can see it all the time. Makes some comments about the craftsmanship of it.

If you make one specially for a specific event, he will wear it for a little bit just to make you happy. Doesn't wear it for long, though. He isn't really prone to such frivolity and, honestly, he would rather see one on you.

Probably not too interested in the concept of a crown in general, either. He doesn't consider himself royalty - Lucifer doesn't need something like that to indicate his power and status. Everyone already knows.

He'll keep the crown you make for him. Fascinated by the method with which you created it. Might ask you questions about your technique.

Mammon

Thrilled. You're giving him something you made? Something for him to wear? Does that whole tsundere thing where he acts like he's only doing it to make you happy, but really he's just as happy about it. Wears it immediately and probably for the rest of the day, too.

Make one that matches for yourself and watch him struggle to keep up the act. He really thinks it's pretty cute. Of course ya wanna match with the Great Mammon, MC! No surprise there!

Be careful, though, because you probably put an idea into his head about crowns in general. Mammon wouldn't be likely to actually wear a real one or anything, but aren't crowns usually made of gold and diamonds? Visions of himself swimming in Grimm are flashing through his mind. Starts wondering if Diavolo has a crown somewhere.

Distract him quickly so he doesn't start actually looking for a crown to steal.

Leviathan

What? You made a crown for him? He's so happy about it, he can't think straight. Showers you with praise about how talented you are.

He'll wear it for a little while, mostly because he sees how happy it makes you, but eventually he preserves it in his room. Displays it prominently among his favorite anime figures.

Levi gets all kinds of cosplay ideas. He has so many ideas for you, MC! Won't you help him make some epic cosplay outfits? Together you end up making some crowns out of regular materials that actually look real.

He also prefers to see you in a crown than himself. Asks you to model all the different versions of cosplay crowns and takes a million pictures.

Satan

Surprisingly happy to wear the paper crown you made. Doesn't complain at all or say anything about it. Just accepts it and places it on his head, asking you how he looks.

Asks you questions about how you made it, where you got your materials, etc. He's really impressed, MC. You always surprise him with the things you come up with.

Prepare yourself. Because now he's going to tell you about all the crowns of history. Talks at length about the symbolism of crowns and royalty. It's actually pretty fascinating.

Satan wants you to make smaller ones for the stray cats that live in the garden. He knows they won't wear them for long, but at least he can get some really adorable pictures.

Asmodeus

MC, you're so sweet! He's so happy to wear the crown you made! It looks fabulous on him, too. Settles it into his hair, arranging it just right. Will actually change his outfit to match it if he needs to.

Asmo already has several actual crowns/tiaras that he uses as accessories. Now he wants to do your hair so he can put one of them on you. You'll look stunning and then both of you will have crowns!

Keeps the crown you made in his collection and actually wears it again sometimes.

Makes you a crown in return. Might make one out of paper like you did, but really he could make you one out of anything. Makes sure they match.

Beelzebub

Takes it very carefully and wears it all day. You made it and that alone is enough for him to cherish it.

He doesn't have very strong opinions on crowns in general, but he does like this one. He's another one who thinks it would look better on you than him. Might make you wear it just so he can take a picture of you.

It actually looks kind of tasty… but don't worry, MC, he won't eat it. Though now he's thinking about a crown made of food. What would that even look like? It'd probably be made of donuts. For some reason, that sounds right.

Only make Beel a crown made of food if you don't have any expectations for him to actually wear it.

Belphegor

Whatever you want, MC. He'll wear the crown you made if it makes you happy. He's actually pretty touched that you made it for him at all.

Acts like he doesn't care, but he's secretly into it. Sits up a little straighter rather than his usual sleepy slouch.

Did you know there are a couple of constellations in the human world that are crowns? Belphie learned about them a long time ago, when he used to go to the human world a lot. Will show you any such similar constellations in the Devildom sky.

Stars are a common decoration for crowns, too. If the crown you made has any on it, he'll know you did that on purpose just for him. Won't say anything, but it means a lot to him.

Diavolo

You're giving him a crown you made? He's delighted. Humans are so cute! How fascinating! Do a lot of humans wear crowns? Uses this as an excuse to ask you about human customs. He loves it. Thank you so much, MC!

He will wear it as long as he can. Can't really wear it to important meetings and such, but when he's working alone, he will. Keeps it on his desk forever after that.

He's the only one who might actually wear a crown in real life for a real reason. He's a prince, after all. But he doesn't really need to wear one and he knows it. He's Diavolo. Everyone in the Devildom recognizes him on sight.

Considering how much gold decorates his horns and wings in his demon form, he's basically got a built in crown anyway.

Barbatos

Accepts your gift graciously as always and surprises you by actually wearing it. He's going to comment on how you made it, too. He recognizes whatever technique you used.

Surprises you further by making you one himself. It turns out that Barbatos is really good at making flower crowns. Spends an afternoon in the castle gardens with you, crafting a stunning crown out of various Devildom flora. Teaches you how to do it, too.

Although he wears your paper crown the whole time, he's clearly smitten with the way you look wearing the flower crown he made. He can't keep his eyes off of you.

Saves the crown you made him, keeping it safe in his room. Turns out the flower crowns make pretty good wreaths, too, so you can use yours to decorate your own room. When the flowers inevitably fade, he'll make you a new one without you even needing to ask.

Simeon

Flustered by your gift. Hesitant to wear it at first, but he's easily convinced. Can't believe you went to such trouble for him. You really shouldn't have, MC.

Makes you crown shaped pancakes in return. They're delicious because of course they are.

Although he's a little embarrassed, he's also quite pleased with your gift. He keeps it in his room and puts it on from time to time to look at himself in the mirror. It reminds him of your kindness.

Will wear it when he's having writer's block issues with his novels. Something about it gives him that needed boost of confidence to get him back on track.

Solomon

Accepts the gift with a smile and wears it all day. If you made it with magic, he'll ask you how you did it. If you didn't, he'll show you how you could have done it.

There's a possibility that Solomon wore a crown all the time back in his past. He won't mention it and if you ask, he'll dodge the question. Was he once a king of an ancient land? Maybe. Maybe not. We'll probably never know.

In the present, though, he's more than happy to wear one that you made, MC.

Won't wear it out and about, but will save it. Preserves it in some kind of magical container and keeps it on display where he can see it while he's doing magical experiments.

Luke

Fascinated. Wants you to teach him how to make them, too. So happy to wear the one you made, even takes off his hat so he can wear your crown instead.

You know, MC. He thinks that a crown like this could look really neat as a cake accessory! Asks you to make another one, then bakes a cake just so he can use it as a topper.

Gets more crown related baking ideas. Makes crown shaped cookies. Learns about edible gold so he can make edible crowns with actual gold on them. You've got crown themed pastries for months now.

Keeps the first crown you made him and wears it sometimes because it makes him feel happy. Gives him a little boost in confidence if he's feeling nervous about something.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #request #misc writes

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tainted-liquor · 8 months

Text

Su Tiara Rosa₊˚⊹♡

E42!Miles Morales x Daddy’s Girl!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Cussing, (im not tagging it nm after this) N word usage, suggestive jokes if ur rlly perceptive W/C: 2.1k!! A/N: PART 2 OF THIS FIC!! RAAGAGHHH (you see any errors no you didnt.)

You spent the next few months talking to Miles nonstop, building a relationship, and getting to know each other little by little. One thing was for sure, the communication was consistent. You went on various dates, with you each surprising and outdoing each other each time. Even though you weren't officially a 'thing', with you telling Miles you don't do boyfriend slash girlfriend until you meet each other's parents, all of that changed today. You made plans with Miles to formally introduce him to your parents, and to say you were nervous was an understatement. It was all that plagued your mind, the idea consuming your glittery pink brain tissue and replacing it with small details about Miles.

You paced around in circles in your room, contemplating if you should wear something pretty for your soon-to-be boyfriend or just stay casual. Would Daddy like him? Mommy already seems to take a liking to him but-...oh no what about your brothers? You thought everything over a thousand times, groaning loudly as you flopped down onto the floor to 'clear your head'. You spent 15 minutes on the soft carpet of your room, overthinking everything as you contemplated canceling today entirely.

You checked the time on your phone through heavy-lidded eyes, huffing as you grazed over the number 4:27 on your clock. You pulled yourself up off the ground and made your way to your closet, deciding on a cute house outfit to wear since you were...literally only having dinner downstairs and then making cookies with Miles. You heard a couple knocks at your door before it nearly came flying off its hinges, revealing 4 pairs of eyes staring at you blankly. You deadpanned, watching as 4 very unwelcome guests filed into your room with confused chirps and sniggers of amusement. Your brothers poked and prodded at your face and room, questioning why there was so much noise coming from your 'pink corner' of the house.

You huffed in annoyance, shooing them all out as they let out noises of disapproval and entertainment. "C'mon, get out I don't want you here...HOW ARE YOU ON MY SHELF?" You shouted, wide-eyed as you watched your brother 'DJ' hang onto your tall dresser. You swatted him down with your pink mini fan, brutalizing your older brothers as they giggled their way back out of your room. Like who do these niggas think they are? Anyway, you have more important things to attend to.

You groaned in slight fear as you realized it was almost time for Miles to make his way over to your house, sucking in a deep breath and fixing your Afro puffs in your vanity mirror. After making sure you looked slightly more presentable than usual, you made your way down the stairs on tip-toes to not disturb the calm atmosphere. “There’s my princess! What’s wrong, you look troubled?” Your dad sparked, immediately tearing his gaze away from what looked like his paperwork. You gave a nervous smile, slowly preparing to explain that you intended to bring a guest to dinner before the doorbell rang. Shit.

You slowly inched towards the door, confusion residing on your father's face as you painfully opened the door, revealing a 'nonchalant' dead Miles. "Daddy, this is Miles..! My new boyfriend!" You muttered, pulling Miles into your house by his hand. He gave a shaky "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. L/N" as your mother materialized from the kitchen, glaring at the two of you with a blank expression. "Hey! Princess, why didn't you tell me we'd be having guests? I would've moved my work to my study!" Your father joked, laughing loudly as he cleared off the living room table. Your mother smiled, giving him a small "Welcome back, Miles! Food should be done in a couple of minutes, alright?"

The two of you stood in shock, utter confusion filling your mood as everyone continued on like normal. "Wait, mommy, you're not mad? Daddy, you're not either?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as your brothers began to pour in an unintentional single-file line. Your parents looked both confused and amused, your mother answering quickly. "Why would we be upset? We know Miles, lovebug. We'd be upset if you brought home some...gangbanging bum you never introduced us to." Miles sniggered, quickly walking over to the dining room table and talking to your brothers as he saved you a seat next to him. "Huh..." you hummed, slowly processing that Miles had already done everything right, and didn't need to do anything to impress the pair.

You took your seat next to Miles, watching as he quickly bonded with your older brothers. "Nah, Nah. It's not even like that. Ask her yourself" he shrugged, nodding in your direction. "Ask me what? What's happening?" You queried, leaning over the table so you could see your brothers all doing their own thing. Your brother Kazir only waved a hand at you, signifying not to worry about it as he struggled to keep a straight face. "Nah, cuz what are you saying over there that's THAT funny?"

The table began to erupt with bickering, you arguing back and forth with Kazir and Zakova. Your father came in not too long after, setting up the food and scolding your brothers for annoying you. They rolled their eyes, taking their plates and going upstairs to their rooms as you giggled under your breath. Your parents rolled their eyes, immediately returning their attention back to you and Miles. "So! Miles, how long have you and Y/N been together? We sure do hear a lot about you" your mother giggled.

You buried your face in your hands, looking down at the ground as Miles chuckled. "Well, we didn't really start dating until today? She wanted me to meet you first before jumping into anything" he sighed as he placed a gentle arm over your shoulder. Your mother seemed both shocked and pleased, sporting a warm smile as she passed a cup to Dj. "Oh wow! So you waited until she was ready to bring you here?" She asked. "Yeah! That exactly" Miles responded with a warm smile.

"That's wonderful! I'm glad to see someone in the world who knows patience. Unlike...some boys." Your father added, subtly eying your brothers. "Dad!" Navir grunted, giving him a sharp side-eye. You giggled, finishing up the last of your food as you flipped off Navir under the table, earning you a very suspicious-looking nod and a low mumble of "remember that." As Miles finished up his food, you offered to help your parents with the dishes as DJ and Navir dashed up the steps. "Nah, we got it. Go, show Miles some more of your sketches!" your mother urged as she beckoned you both upstairs.

You raced straight to your room, dragging Miles with you by the hand as you giggled all the way up. "You play smash? Or are you a Mario Kart person?" you asked, grabbing your switch and semi-flipping onto your bed. Miles looked up at your tiara case, clearly in awe about how gorgeous it looked as he mumbled out "Smash Bros..." You got up, climbing up on your shelf to reach the pretty pink tiara, gently holding it in your hands like the holy grail. "Pretty, right? Daddy won it for me at some sort of auction years ago!"

Miles nodded, watching as the pink crystals glimmered underneath the dim yellow light of your room. He gently took the tiara from your hands, placing it as delicately as possible on your head and fluffing out your curls. You attempted to fight the smile that formed on your face as he turned you around, facing your mirror as he rested his hands on your hips. "¿Ves? Una chica tan bonita" He cooed as he gave your face a little squeeze with his hand, watching as your smile widened in the mirror. "C'mon, let's play some Mario Kart" he stated as he scooped you up and sat you back down near your bedframe.

You screamed internally, laying down on your bed with your pretty pink switch in your hands as you fought the urge to kick and scream into your pillow. He casually took out the 'spare switch' you had in your nightstand, that was basically his as he booted up Mario Kart. He chuckled lowly, looking over at you before mumbling a menacing "I'm not letting you win" into your ear as you chose your racer. "Me and baby peach will fucking smoke you, try me" You spat, giggling as he gave you a small pat on your head. "Sure, Mamas. Sure you will" he taunted as the countdown sounded off.

You spent 30 minutes trying to beat Miles in Mario Kart, feeling like you were on the verge of tears until he let you win. "LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!" you shouted, standing up on your bed and flexing as you yelled like a madman. Miles's eyes widened in amusement, gently holding your ankle so you wouldn't fall as he reminded you to be careful and that you still had your tiara on. You held your tiara firmly, carefully sitting back down on your bed with Miles as you turned off your switch. "I'M THE GOAT. ME! I'M HIM!! I'M HER!!" You shouted, watching as Miles laughed at your antics.

"How does it feel to lose? Get mixed. I know it hurts." You retorted, crossing your arms and holding your head up high. Miles blankly stared at you for a minute, giggling quietly. "First of all, I let you win cuz yo ass was about to cry. Second of all, you won 1 round of 20-" he began, voice laced with obvious amusement. "I don't care! I won! I won! C'mon, let's go make these victory cookies."

You quickly jogged down the stairs, nodding your head upward to greet your brother DJ, who was staring deeply at the blue-ish light of his phone screen. "What y'all bouta do?" he asked blankly, not tearing his focus away from his phone. "We bouta make cookies. You want some?" You asked as you slowed down your speed-walk to the kitchen. "Yeah, as long as they not them fuckin'...mint cookies you made last time. Shit tragic."

You roll your eyes, giving him a thumbs up as Miles chuckles to himself. "ain't shit funny Morales." you grumbled as you got out the ingredients for heart-shaped sugar cookies. "My bad Mami." Miles muttered as you sat down on the kitchen counter, scrolling on your phone for a recipe on sugar cookies. You showed Miles the recipe, watching him scan over the information and ingredients as you got out the necessary contents. You spent about an hour in the kitchen, watching as Miles did most of the work.

"How the fuck you can't bake? Nigga this was YOUR idea?" he asked with a lazy smile, arms flexing as he whisked the butter, sugar, egg, and vanilla extract together. "Has anyone ever told you your arms look delectable" you stated flatly, clearly not hearing his previous question as you stared at his arms. "You don't have noooo filter! Thank you, mi muñequita" he laughs, pausing his mixing briefly to take a breather before continuing his brutal assault on the whipped butter. You gave him a small smile, adding the flour, salt, baking powder and a little bit of strawberry powder to the bowl and watching as he continued to mix the combination until it resembled a dough. You placed down some flour on a large baking sheet, rolling and kneading out the dough and breaking it into little pieces as you covered the smaller balls of dough in sugar before shaping them into hearts.

You handed the baking sheet to miles, watching as he chucked them in the oven and sat on the kitchen counter with you. He scrolled on his phone with one arm around your shoulder, briefly stopping so he could watch as your legs swung back and forth as they dangled off the counter. You hummed to yourself as you watched his phone screen, finding his feed much funnier than yours as you giggled at every other post on his explore page. He had over 5k followers on Instagram, but only followed you and four other people as he opened up his Instagram camera, snapped a quick photo of you two holding hands, careful that neither of your faces were in the camera. He uploaded the photo to his story before hopping off the counter to retrieve the cookies from out the oven.

He sat them on top of the counter, putting his phone down as he took one fresh off the tray, not even wincing as he picked up the hot cookie. "Miles! Are you okay how are you not-" you began, quickly being silenced as he place the cookie in your mouth, thumb grazing the tip of your tongue and giving you a kiss to the forehead.

"Soy puertorriqueño. That shit is nothing to me" he stated, clearly unbothered as fuck.

"Miles make me knock you out."

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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lacetulle · 2 years

Note

What was your favorite met gala gown?

This is a tough question and my answer is going to be a long one. Mostly because this was the second part of a two-parter exhibition. In America: A Lexicon of Fashion was the exhibit in September last year, and that particular gala seemed very boring. There wasn't a specific theme other than Americana, so it was underwhelming since it encompassed such a broad amount of time. So when they announced that this gala had a 'Gilded Glamour' theme, I was thrilled that they were trying to hone in on a specific time period. Unfortunately, they announced it not even a month ago. The amount of time that goes into planning these looks spans well beyond a month, so while I think the theme was grossly ignored, the theme announcement came way too late for designers and celebrities.

Also, fashion designers are who truly get the invites to the gala. Vogue does invite a handful of celebrities and they get to work with whatever designer they want, but when we see a crowd of celebrities with Moschino or Louis Vuitton or Prabal Gurung...the designers choose what the celebrity wears. So unless you're at a certain level of star power, sometimes you just get to show up and look out of place (I'm looking at you, Michael Kors and LV girls) because the designer gets to choose. With that said, here is my favorite. And some honorable mentions.

Blake Lively is my winner. I loved the homage to the Statue of Liberty and its patina effect. I actually didn't really like it when I first saw her on the carpet...the metallic bow gave me more of an '80s vibe. But after her reveal and the bow unfurled...I loved it. The tiara, the gloves, the designs on the dress. I loved it all and seemed like a love note to New York City. Blake is one of the ones who gets to envision an idea and talk to a designer and make it come to life. She really did have a big hand in designing this with Versace and you can tell by the amount of pride she had when breaking the dress elements down. And bonus points: the Statue of Liberty arrived in 1885, right in the middle of the gilded age time period.

Billie Eilish is my runner up. She took the theme to heart. I love that she asked Gucci to use upcycled materials. I don't have anything else to add because she's the only one who literally went with the theme and I applaud her.

Chloe Grace Moretz in Louis Vuitton. Even though I didn't like the LV girls as a whole, Chloe is the exception for me. I loved the nod to men's fashion in the gilded age and I wished more men actually went this route.

Rosalía in Givenchy. The glasses annoyed me. But I do love the dress. The nod to gigot sleeves are probably what make the look for me.

I also really loved Carey Mulligan's Schiaparelli dress. I think she flew under the radar because while the dress might be safe, I do love the nod to gilded equaling gold and gilded aged fashion. And while I'm surprised at how tame it is, considering Schiaparelli's looks can be way out there, I think it was a lovely mixture of gilded age fashion in a modern look.

And finally, the Cinderella story of the night: Genesis Suero wearing Lucia Rodriguez. Flawless. The dress fit the theme. And like so many people who stopped reading the theme after the word 'gilded' and just said, GOLD EVERYTHING...Genesis had a 2-for-1. A gorgeous golden gilded age dress.

I had high hopes for this gala and the theme, since historical shows are so popular right now. And I was even willing to overlook people disregarding the era of the theme and thinking it just meant they had to be dripping in gold. But I could not believe the amount of people who thought this theme included the roaring '20s or the golden age of Hollywood. Once again, the best Met Gala by far, was 2018's Heavenly Bodies, and I'm disappointed that more people didn't show up with high neck, bustles, gloves, and lace.

Thanks for asking! Sorry this turned into a novel. I guess I'm very passionate about the Met Gala.

#met gala #best dressed #met gala 2022 #ask me anything

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tiaramania · 1 year

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Garnet Tiaras

Garnet & Pearl Tiara, early 1800s

Garnet & White Sapphire Tiara by Chaumet (replica of a tiara made by Nitot for Empress Marie Louise of France in 1811)

Garnet Floral Tiara, mid 1800s

Bohemian Garnet Tiara, late 1800s

Bohemian Garnet Tiara, 1899

Countess of Rosenborg's Garnet Kokoshnik Tiara by Aage Dragsted, 1930s

Passion Incarnat Tiara by Chaumet, 2016

Tiara Materials 17 of ∞

#tiara materials #garnet #tiara #Chaumet #Aage Dragsted #Nitot #floral tiara #Bohemian Garnet

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sillyyuserr · 2 months

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two posts in one day omg?? kind of irrelevant but one of my friends was ranting ab terukane being associated w copper + lightening and i thought it was so interesting so i looked into it and jeez 😭

again, kind of an analysis, if you can even call it that

so all characters in jshk kind of have a color scheme, ex: nene’s is turquoise/teal, aoi’s is purple, hanako’s is red/sometimes amber etc etc.

(This picture helps show my point here)

And as you can see (kind of) akane’s colors consist of turquoise/teal and a rusty orange/sometimes straight up the color orange.

(Pls ignore shitty quality im doing this on iphone) Which if you look at it this has a striking resemblance to that of partly oxidized copper??

Moving on to teru’s color scheme, his consists of mostly stained glass blue’s and softer yellow’s (again, sorry for shitty quality 😭)

But if you look at it, his kind of looks like lightning?? (Or at least the colors lightning is usually depicted as, as it has no exact color)

And as we know, teru is associated with lightning, as he can literally wield it (sorry akane 💀)

Quick chemical lesson coming from a science nerd, copper has a high conductivity rate and facilitates a rapid transmission of lightning energy, making it attractive to lightning, also making copper, lightnings best conductor (conductor meaning a material or device that conducts or transmits heat, electricity, or sound, especially when regarded in terms of its capacity to do this) meaning out of all the other chemicals + chemical compounds, copper attracts lightning the best.

and who in this case represents (and/or has the color scheme of) lightning and copper?

AIDAIRO SCIENCE NERD REAL??? Also tiara doing the same thing 😭 must just be like a minamoto thing LMAO

#aoi akane #minamoto teru #terukane #minamoto tiara #tbhk #real #science

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justimajin · 8 months

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The Language of Flowers

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

↳ 9.5k / Hanahaki AU

⇨ Hanahaki (pre-existing concept): a fictional disease in which an individual will cough up flowers after experiencing unrequited love.

Warnings: heavy angst, discussions of illness/surgery, implied smut (on the explicit end)

Love is funny.

It blossoms unexpectedly, spontaneously conjuring up within seconds. A spur of the moment, which draws in budding affection. Love at first sight, that flourishes into sparks of tender electricity. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something more meaningful.

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more as the handles of time spiral, adoration and devotion thrown into the mix and creating everlasting bliss.

Until of course, it becomes long term, its longevity and commitment spanning an entire lifetime.

You glance around, pupils revolving around the blooming garden. There are long tables lined into rows, draped with lilac silk material and decorated with bright yellow flowers. Amongst them, an array of individuals are seated, chattering with one another.

You find her closer to the fencing, where fairy lights are looped and a giant white board stands, the word ‘Engaged’ written in bold cursive purple.

“Aera.” She turns around, dressed in a short white lace dress with a small tiara resting on her black hair, making her appear like a princess. Her eyes are wide, having been in mid-conversation before she heard your voice call out to her.

Her lips tug into a huge smile upon seeing your tender look, moving forward to envelop you into a hug. “Y/N!”

You hug her back, “Thank you so much for coming. It wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

“Don’t say that.” You sheepishly chuckle, but she presses on.

“Oh, come on, you’re the one that introduced me to him.”

You dismiss her, “I just introduced you two, you were the one to take it a step further.”

Taking a step back, you gesture to the entire display of the white board and a bubbly laugh emerges from her.

“Let me at least give you some credit.”

“Fine, maybe I helped a little.” You retort and she grins at your acceptance.

A low voice cuts through your conversation.

“I moved the balloons like you wanted, the decorator said–”

A young man appearing to be within his twenties emerges, donning a white dress shirt with a black tie and pants. His dark hair is styled and parted back, brows furrowed and doe eyes swirling with focus.

It doesn’t take you a second later to whisper his name.

“Jungkook?”

He halts his steps, frozen by the sound of his name. Head snapping up, recognition flows through his orbs.

Within a heartbeat, he shutters out. “Y-Y/N?”

Aera darts her eyes between both of you, taken aback with the familiarity with a frown.

“Do the two of you know each other?”

“Ah– yes,” You quickly clarify, “We work together.”

“Yeah, we do.” He replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here…”

“Well, I am friends with the bride.” You chuckle.

Aera pitches in, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “And she introduced me to Sunoo, Kookie!”

He stiffens. “I see…”

“How do the two of you know each other?” You ponder, surprised by their proximity. If anything, you at least knew that Jungkook was greatly distant at work, never really going out of his way to speak to anyone.

Aera warmly smiles, looping her arm around Jungkook’s, “Let me reintroduce you to the Jeon Jungkook,” She gazes at him with tender eyes, “My childhood friend and the person dearest to my heart…“

Pausing, she adds in, “–after Sunoo, of course.”

You nod understandably, but Jungkook lets out a low cough.

“I-I should go,” He brings up, “See if the decorator needs any more help.”

You watch as he loops out of her arm, swiftly turning around without another word.

A pout surfaces on Aera’s lips, like she wanted him to stay longer with you.

But then she turns and catches your intrigued gaze, orbs brightening up in an instant. She dips into conversation once more as if he never left, occupied with showcasing the giant ring that now sits on her third finger.

Yet if you had been paying enough attention, you would have noticed the flicker of dread in Jungkook’s eyes.

***

As you attempt to catch up with Aera, it’s not long before she’s being whisked away by her husband-to-be, who you warmly greet with a smile.

Being left alone, you decide to head over to one of the side tables, setting down the gift you had bought for them before filtering through all the guests to find your seat.

Locating an empty one on the same table Aera and Sunoo would be at, you sit down and take a napkin, carefully placing it down onto your lap.

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Jungkook. He glances around, doe eyes frantic and lips pursed. He awkwardly lingers for a moment – like he was debating on being there, unsure of where to look or where to go.

It’s surprising to you, considering only moments ago he was effortlessly navigating himself to the decorator’s instructions.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing the two of you aren’t particularly close. However, as his confusion spins by the minute, you ultimately decide it wouldn’t be so bad and give in.

“Jungkook!” You call out, watching his train of vision fall onto you. Taking out a chair next to you, your hand waves over with a warm smile.

Jungkook glances around one more time, before walking over with his head ducked down.

Instead of taking the one beside you, he takes the one on the opposite side – the one that is furthest away from Aera.

You raise a brow, wondering why he didn’t want to sit closer to the bride and of course, his childhood friend, but you freeze when your orbs land on his appearance.

His eyes are glossed over, tinged with red. They almost seem hollow, dark circles collecting underneath them and his shoulders are caved in.

“Are–…” You quickly glance around, words dropping into a whisper before leaning in, “Are you okay?”

Jungkook’s pupils snap back into life and he furiously nods, shifting uncomfortably away from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” He sniffles, voice coming out hoarse. His field of vision lands on the decorations upon the table, features straining with dismay, “I’m just allergic to the flowers.”

Your own eyes follow his line of sight, falling onto the beautiful, bright yellow petals. In fact, they’re littered everywhere – from the long tables lined up, to the blooming garden, to even attached to the white board that sits in the front.

“Tulips,” You remark, “Aera’s–”

“Favorite flower.” He mumbles, pupils focused down on his fidgeting hands and not bothering to take a glance at them.

An involuntary harsh cough escapes his throat.

You lean over, grabbing a jug full of water and a glass, filling it up. Tapping him on the shoulder, he looks up, fatigue radiating deep within his irises before they morph into surprise.

He takes the glass hesitantly, muttering a small thank you before you turn your attention back to the front, watching all the guests take their places as the food gets served.

Save for the few occasional glances stemming from concern, you and Jungkook don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the duration.

***

The evening spins away – dinner is all served and more guests pool in. You occasionally smile, greeting new people and munching down on the contents placed in front of you.

Amongst all this, Aera is attached to Sunoo, a tender smile on her features as they deeply gaze into each other’s eyes and beam with so much sweet affection.

You grin when she calls for you to take a picture with the two to them, instantly leaving your table and trudging over. Looping your arm with Aera and standing opposite to Sunoo, all three of you smile as the photographer’s flash goes off.

“You two look really good together.” You comment and Aera giggles, eyes crinkling in the direction of her to-be-husband.

She leans closer to him, brushing his lips against hers for a kiss. Sunoo follows suit, clasping onto her hands.

They radiate the to-be-wed glow, encased in their own bubble of infectious love and happiness. It’s joyous for anyone to watch, to see two people be so utterly and completely in love with each other.

At least, that’s what you think.

As you turn to greet another one of Aera’s friends, you catch a flash of movement from the corner of your eyes.

You blink, but then there’s a tap against your shoulder.

“Y/N,” Aera asks, her head surveying around, “Do you know where Jungkook is?”

You swivel, mimicking her puzzlement. “I-I’m not sure…”

“That’s too bad, I wanted to take a picture with him.” Aera remarks and a frown lines your lips. You had just seen Jungkook sitting by the table by himself moments ago, but now he’s up and disappeared, just when the photographer had started taking photos.

You sigh, not understanding his train of thought.

Turning to Aera, you give her a quick reassured smile. “Focus on Sunoo, I’ll go find him for you.”

She breaks into a huge relieved grin and nods, returning to her husband’s side.

Spinning around, you walk in the opposite direction.

Your head darts back and forth.

You had entered into the side building, the one adjacent to the garden where the engagement party was being held. It’s empty save for the occasional workers or bystanders you pass, either trying to help set up or busy conversing with one another. However, you don’t find the head of dark hair and pair of doe eyes you’re trying to locate, simply left mulling if he had truly decided to leave.

That is, until there’s a black tie resting near the soles of your feet.

You pick it up in suspicion, instantly recognizing it as the same one Jungkook had donned when you had met him prior in the evening.

Peering around while gripping the tie, you wonder why it was so clumsily thrown onto the ground, as if he didn’t care about where it ended up–

The sound of retching startles you.

You glance around, wondering if you had imagined it. But then you hear it – a low choked sob, and your feet are gyrating, ears keenly picking up on the sound.

Your feet falter for a moment, having stopped right in front of the men’s bathroom.

Biting down your bottom lip, you cautiously push against the door, darting your pupils around.

It's completely empty, save for one stall in the far corner.

Your heels click against the ground, turning to face it. Noticing it slightly open, you raise your hand, preparing to knock and ask him if he was okay, if he has perhaps consumed too much alcohol than expected, or if he needed anything – infinite questions ready to tumble out of your lips.

But that’s when you feel a slight flutter against your foot.

Peering down curiously, you breath hitches and you nearly stumble back.

For there’s a fragrant and beautiful, bright yellow petal there.

Hand quivering, you lightly push against the door.

It opens, and your mouth falls agape at the sight.

Jungkook is on his knees, hunched over the toilet, completely surrounded by yellow flowers. His eyes are squeezed shut, shudders running through his body and tears pooling into his eyes. Despite being very tall, his frame looks small and cramped, sweat clinging to his temples.

You thought it was all fake, a disease so rare that it could be considered a myth. But the flowers spilling out from his coughing lips is enough to reel you back into reality, cementing that it was all true – all the puzzling pieces of information stemming from the rumors, all the hushed whispers of unrequited love.

You were wrong, so utterly wrong.

Your hands cover your mouth, voice only managing to come out in a shakingly whisper.

“O-Oh my god….”

Jungkook heaves as the last flower slips out, finally noticing your presence as his eyes snap back.

Your widened ones make contact with his half-lidded orbs, which expand into complete horror.

***

You don’t remember how long it took – how long you merely stood there, glancing at his horror stricken irises with a mix of terror and confusion in your own. You had watched as his eyes diverted away, a deep flush coating his skin as he had leaned back, gripping the edge of the wall for dear support.

“Tulips.” You had murmured, “Aera’s–”

“Favorite flower.” He croaks, a harsh rasp to his voice. His quivering hands reach out, attempting to scoop up the remaining flowers on the ground.

His pupils widened when your shaking ones reached out as well, gaze concentrated as you discard them into the toilet can. But he continues, ensuring each and every single petal had been collected before rising to his feet, wobbling a bit as he turns to flush the contents away for good.

You had quietly trailed out of the bathroom, walking behind his light footsteps.

A moment of silence overtakes you as you reach the opposite side of the building, far from where there are guests celebrating the new engagement. The fresh breeze weaves through your hair, nipping at your skin and offering a change of atmosphere.

Jungkook seems to like it as well, a content sigh leaving him as opposed to the profuse spilling of flowers inside a cramped stall he was experiencing just moments ago.

A thousand questions are ready to burst out from you, but amongst them is one that already has an answer.

“I-Is it…” You warily gaze at him, “...Aera?”

Jungkook visibly gulps, fear echoing deep in his doe irises. You’re startled when he snatches onto your wrist, grip tightening as his eyes desperately scan your expression.

“Please…” He inhales, “Please don’t tell her...”

You slowly nod, gaze still trained on him as his shoulders slump down, relief flooding his body.

Your voice drops into a whisper, “H-How long has this been going on…?”

Jungkook’s lip thin out, and his gaze is on the ground.

Sucking in a breath, he reveals the answer that has a harsh gasp escaping you.

“A year.”

“A year?!” You sharply repeat, “Jungkook, how are you still alive?”

Your coworker had been quietly suffering the effects for a whole entire year, delving within his own misery and attempting to live a normal life as the disease ate away at him.

He shakes his head, like he didn’t want your thoughts invading his mind, “Why haven’t you just gotten the surgery?”

“I-I can’t…” He whispers, brows furrowing.

“Why not?” You press forward, concern filling you to the brim, “The rumors say that hanahaki consumes the individual’s lungs within a year, leading their entire system to shut down–”

“Because I can’t, Y/N.” His words are louder and firmer, but there’s guilt swimming in his orbs. “I…I don’t want to forget her.”

Your lips pursue, knowing what the rumors had to say about the surgery. That along with all the flowers, each and every memory is taken, ripped out of the patient’s mind until they have no more recollection of the feelings, the love they had once felt for their person.

Which means Jungkook’s only other alternative would be for Aera to reciprocate his feelings.

Your stomach churns, guilt radiating out from you.

“She can’t love you back…” You whisper and Jungkook’s eyes snap up, brimming with despair.

“She’s engaged now, and I…I can't take it all away from her,” He hurriedly explains, voice shrinking down into an anguished whisper, “Not when I love her so much...”

“But…are you just going to let yourself die?”

He has no other option. The fonder his heart grows, so do the petals, spreading out within his airway until his breathing is completely constricted. Without the removal surgery or reciprocated feelings, he’s caged – left to fight the disease on his own until he ultimately succumbs to it, drawing out his last breath in the name of the same love.

Jungkook is silent, your words lingering within the empty space between you.

He continues to remain silent, but then his features twist and something snaps.

His eyes are glossed over, shoulders hunched as he chokes out a sob.

You’re startled, but you realize it then and there.

He knows he’s resigned to his fate and at this point, all he can do is receive the illness that’s marred his pathway with flowers.

You’re not very close to Jungkook, but it doesn’t hold you back from outstretching your arms, hands wrapping around his torso as the tears stream down his eyes, form violently trembling.

Aera’s eyes had sparked up when you returned with Jungkook following suit. You watch with dismay as he places a hand on her shoulder, a weak smile on his lips. Jungkook’s condition is obvious, there’s dark circles underneath his eyes, his skin pale and fatigue running deep in his shoulders. But he continues to pose for the photo, not ignoring Aera’s plea to take more with her husband.

Sunoo stands on the other side of them, sharing Aera’s tender smile when she glances at him. Jungkook’s lip twitches, smile slightly faltering.

As the evening draws to an end, your gaze is attached to Jungkook’s every movement, watching him turn on his heels and begin to take the various decorations down. All as Aera and Sunoo have their arms wrapped around each other, fondly staring down at the rings on their hands.

A bitter taste lingers on your lips.

It stays for a while – even as you’re knocking on Jungkook’s door the next day.

To be honest, you’re not sure what you're trying to accomplish. Jungkook and you were merely coworkers, bypassing each other occasionally or conversing through cubicles when work called for it.

But there’s a piece of you deep inside that can't help but feel awful. Awful that in a way you were the one to resign him to the fate of his disease with your own actions, pointing out to Aera that there was a guy you knew back in your college days together that would be her type, even helping out to get his number for her.

Conversely, even though you weren't aware of Jungkook’s existence in her life, the image of him hunched over, trembling as the flowers endlessly poured around and circled his sobbing form, is hauntingly ingrained inside your mind, a deep chill running through your spine anytime the memory plays.

The door swings open, revealing a started Jungkook.

Knowing what you know now, makes it hard to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the deep circles underneath his eyes ever most present and his skin drained of life. You suspect he’s even lost weight from the last handful of times you’ve seen him at work, the disease taking its sweet time to slowly break him down, bit by bit, till his lungs are full and bursting with flowers.

“W-What are you doing here?”

You take in a deep breath, “You’re off from work, right? To be here for the wedding.”

Aera’s wedding is closer to the end of the month, set seven days after the engagement.

Seven days left until hanahaki runs its full course of a year, the victim falling prey to its effects and their lungs being forever constricted.

He slowly nods, “I thought we could go out, do something aside from wedding preparations.”

Jungkook goes silent and you gnaw on your bottom lip. You knew that the wedding plans were still going on, that Aera would need assistance from the two of you, but you know he’s spending all this time helping the very person he loves, without ever getting to be with her.

You wonder if he’ll protest, if he’ll remark that she needs him and that he needs her, that there’s no way he can halt the planning process for his own needs.

But Jungkook heavily exhales, and you wonder if he can see the pity in your eyes.

“Okay.” He simply utters, much to your surprise. He widens the door, letting you in before swiveling, attempting to look for his jacket.

You stand rather awkwardly by the front of his apartment, pleasantly surprised to find the black and white layout of the place, with everything appearing meticulously organized. It’s almost too clean, not a speck of dirt in sight.

However, the layout seems too simplistic, the black and white not contrasting well with the sunlight that tries to pour in, appearing more bleak and empty for your own liking.

It feels lonely.

You press your lips together, a grimace running through you. How long has he been quietly suffering by himself, keeping distance from others? The Jungkook you know wouldn’t even attend events or go out for drinks with everyone else post-work, but now he’s submerged within guests everyday and next to the person he loves, suppressing flowers from spewing out.

Jungkook emerges soon, throwing on a black jacket. Stepping outside with you, he lets out a sharp cough, rubbing his throat with a wince.

“Where to?” He ponders, looking at you with his big doe eyes.

You shrug, “Coffee?”

He nods, and you lead him to the local coffee shop you’ve frequented a couple of times after work, one that’s more closed in and has cozy booths. It isn't popular by any means, only a few individuals occupying the seats, but it’s something you notice Jungkook relishes in from the corner of your eyes, form visibly easing from the low amount of prying looks.

You order your drinks, asking Jungkook what he wanted and he simply murmurs that anything was okay. Within minutes, two lattes are handed to you and you join him by the booth he’s seated at, a deep frown marring your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you wince, pushing the drink closer to him.

“Sorry…I didn’t realize this cafe also did coffee art.”

Jungkook's eyes are wide as the drink comes in front of him, a foamy little white heart greeting his line of vision.

The corner of his mouth curls up.

“It’s okay.” He remarks, “I think it’s rather cute.”

You look at him in surprise, but he’s already bringing the drink up to his lips, cautiously taking a sip from the heated mixture.

The words blurt out before you can stop them.

“I’m really sorry.”

He halts, placing the drink down. “Y/N, I said it was okay–”

“No, not that.” You harshly swallow, “I-I’m sorry…about Aera…”

He stares at you perplexed and you explain, “I was the one to bring her and Sunoo together. I knew both of them and thought they would work well as a couple.”

Your eyes flutter shut, biting down on your lip, “If only I had known about your relationship with her, I could have–”

“Y/N.” He stops your train of thought, hand brushing against yours. You immediately stare down at it, and he notices, sheepishly removing it in an instant as his complexion dusts pink.

He clears his throat, “Don’t apologize. Me and Aera…we were never meant to be, even if you stepped in.”

You stare at him, “We were friends for years…and even as I came to realize my feelings recently, Aera never once felt the same for me, no matter what I did.” He chuckles bitterly, “I was always Jungkook, her childhood friend, and nothing more.”

Anguish spreads over his features and your heart sinks. You can imagine a younger Jungkook, gaze filled with adoration and affection for the girl, desperately seeking for something, anything to be similarly reflected in her own eyes.

Remorse flickers over you, “But I can imagine Sunoo’s sudden appearance wasn’t all that great for you...”

Jungkook’s gaze falls down, a soft yet wistful smile on his lips. “It confirmed a lot for me, mainly that this disease was going to turn out to be more permanent than I had initially assumed.”

You bite back your words, wanting to tell him that it isn’t just permanent, that the disease would reside with him until he finally succumbs to it.

But you can’t bring yourself to, not when there’s so much hurt swirling in his eyes, the disease already physically manifesting itself against his own wishes.

At his silence, you sit up straighter, desperate to change the topic of conversation you had to spring up.

“What do you do outside of work?” You question, “Do you have any hobbies or anything?”

Anything you do to cope? – you can only silently wonder.

Your questions catches him off guard. “Not really…” He deeply ponders, “At the most, I’ve been just working…and of course, helping Aera when I had time off.”

You nod, features twisting. But then his eyes light up.

“Sometimes I like to game.”

“Game?” You blink and he slowly nods, sipping down on his latte. “I could have never taken you for a gamer.”

Something you wouldn’t have expected from the quiet man who would bump shoulders with you at work.

“It’s fun, I like playing games online.” He states, “It helps not having to worry about…”

His face sours as he gestures to himself and you quickly nod, not wanting him the chance to fill in the blanks.

“Maybe you could show me sometime.” You suggest, and he looks at you surprised. To be fair, you don’t know the first thing about online gaming, but watching Jungkook’s expression change, having some spark of joy, is too much for you to miss out on.

A soft smile lines his lips. “Sure.”

You mimic his smile, bringing the remains of the latte to your lips.

Aera is to be married soon, Jungkook knows that.

As such, he’s aware that moments with her are consistent, that she gazes into his eyes with a wide smile regularly, making his heart skip far too many beats.

But what he is pleasantly unaware of is just how involved you are, unabashedly seeking him out when you need assistance with picking up favors for the wedding.

“There should be at least a hundred candles wrapped with thank you notes,” You mumble, brows furrowed together as you read the text off your phone. The sun is bright and shining down, a light breeze lingering in the air that truthfully makes his chest feel lighter.

You glance up, confused eyes connecting with his wide ones. “I can’t open them to check, right?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think so.”

“But then how do I know they made them properly?�� You gesture towards the box resting before his feet in exasperation.

Letting out a huff, you shake your head. “I swear, this whole wedding business is so much more complicated than it really needs to be.”

A light chuckle resonates through the air and you stare at Jungkook in astonishment, watching at how the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Believe me, I know.” He chides, leaning down to pick up the box. “I’ve been helping to plan this wedding for months.”

“For months?” You question in puzzlement, reaching out to help him balance it. However, he pushes your hands away, gesturing for you to let him carry it.

You frown, but oblige when he starts to walk. “That must have been so stressful. I’ve been only helping out for the last couple of weeks and it’s already making me want to rip my hair out.”

The corners of his lips tugs up and you continue, the words escaping you before you can stop. “Why would you go to such lengths?”

You freeze in an instant, already knowing the reason as to why.

“–Sorry,” You quickly retract, “I-I didn’t mean it like that…”

Jungkook shakes his head, almost feeling something akin to amusement.

His condition is supposed to be a secret, a taboo of a disease and something he’s never uttered a single word to another soul. He supposes that you’re different, that you weren’t someone he told out of his own volition, but rather someone that stumbled upon it.

Which gives him no reason to hide from you. That, and the fact that you’re so mindful about his potential reactions.

“Don’t worry about it.” He simply says, but picks up on the curiosity swirling within your orbs.

“If I can ask…how difficult has it been? Planning all this and dealing with…”

You wave your finger into the air, letting the sentence complete itself and it makes him want to smile.

“It’s kind of hard to explain…” He murmurs, falling deep into thought, “I know Aera doesn’t love me, but I still want to see her happy, you know?”

A low chuckle leaves him, gaze downcasting. “I guess that makes me sound really stupid.”

“No, not at all.” You justify, “You’re right, it’s hard to explain and even harder for someone like me to understand, but you’ve known Aera for so long, and I can imagine that you care a lot about her…”

– and that your love runs deeper than you probably would have imagined – you silently think.

He hums, glancing around as you cross the street together, your eyes focusing onto his backside.

After a moment of contemplation, you speak up.

“You know, I really hope I’m not causing you any trouble.” You explain, “I know talking about it can be–”

“It’s okay.” He replies, “I don’t mind, you’re…really easy to talk to.

You’re surprised by the soft smile he holds while glancing in your direction, but it’s one that you don’t hesitate to return.

A bright yellow flower lands right in front of your face.

You and Jungkook both jolt, the elderly woman in front of you holding a wide grin. It’s only then you realize that you’re near a boutique, selling flowers to those passing by.

“These beautiful tulips are fresh,” She states, attempting to play matchmaker as both you and Jungkook flush, “It’s said they represent unconditional love.”

You blink, the scent of the flowers being shoved right into your faces. Jungkook stills, holding in his breath as his form slightly trembles.

You clear your throat immediately, pushing them away.

“We’re okay.” You take a step back, “I’m allergic to flowers.”

She grimaces, realization donning upon her that neither of you meant business. You don’t think twice, grabbing Jungkook's wrist and whisking him away from the deeply fragrant area.

It’s only when you walk a good handful of steps away that Jungkook tugs on you, a sheepish look on his features that has your confused eyes widening.

You let go of him, “Sorry.”

He softly shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

His head turns, gaze concentrated on the store from a distance.

The next question leaving his lips has you taken aback, “What’s your favorite flower, Y/N?”

You deeply mull over it, drawing a blank. “I-I can’t say I have one….”

He ponders over it and your eyes flicker over to him, “What about you?”

“Ah–” He lightly laughs, scratching the back of his neck. Your eyes widen when he places the box down and takes hold of his sleeve, rolling it back a few inches.

An array of images greet you immediately, but among them is a giant orangish-red flower carved into his forearm.

“It’s my birth flower.” He informs.

You stare at it in pure awe and wonder, the ink swirling his skin beautifully.

Your voice comes out in a whisper, “What is it called?”

“The tiger flower.”

You hum, still looking at it in fascination. “Wow…it’s amazing.”

Jungkook silently watches, oddly feeling exposed for suddenly revealing an important piece of himself to you. But as he notices your irises brightening and lips curving up, he can’t help but warmly smile, his chest swelling with pride underneath your observations.

Ending up at Jungkook’s apartment becomes a staple for you.

You don’t know how or when, but through figuring out the delivery for the cake to ensuring you had enough tables for the RSVP'd guests, your messages to Jungkook would occasionally stray over to pondering over how he was doing. His responses always ended in simple reassurances, much to your own dismay, but then he would stray too, bringing up that if you ever felt like coming over again, you could.

At first, you didn’t want to be rude by declining, but then it became to the point where Jungkook expects you, swinging open to his door non-chantlently.

“Did you eat yet?”

Entering inside, you shake your head and he turns, heading into his kitchen. You glance around, ultimately deciding to sit on his couch.

There’s a table right next to it, a handful of picture frames that have your heart twisting.

They stand out in the midst of his bleak apartment, having an odd touch of hearth to them. There’s different age ranges – roughly around ages nine, twelve, fifteen – all of Aera and Jungkook together. There’s ones of them as small children, bright eyed with huge smiles, to ones where they’re a bit older, smiles turning warm and eyes tender. You muse at how adorable Jungkook looked when he was younger, a light to his crinkled eyes that you don’t really see much anymore.

His footsteps pad into the room, two bowls of instant ramen in his hands. You swivel around and his eyes catch the movement, but if anything he’s learned, it’s that you’re naturally very curious, surprise not even crossing him.

“We can go to my room,” He gestures to the doorway across the hall, “I already have my computer set up.”

You frown, rising from your seat and following behind him. The room is dark, all the lights turned off save for some sunlight peeking through his black drapes, and you’re astonished to find his room just as organized as the rest of his apartment.

Off to the side, there’s a bright lit screen alongside a keyboard that glows different colors.

“Woah.” You mutter and Jungkook hands you your instant ramen, before sitting on the large gaming chair and pulling a seat up for you.

You slurp on your noodles as the game loads. Once it does, his hand revolves around the settings for a moment before he dives into action, his fingertips tapping at an incredible speed across the keyboard and mouse furiously clicking. He seems completely zoned into the game, almost like he had forgotten where he was for a moment.

Nonetheless, you watch with wide eyes as he effortlessly wins the first round, hands coming around to search for his own ramen. He continues to keep playing, pupils never once leaving the monitor and you’re fascinated with how well he’s able to multitask.

His eyes connect with yours, a grin surfacing on his lips. “Want to try?”

Unease fills you, “I don’t know, I’m not the greatest with games–”

“You’ll be fine.” He insists and you nervously nod, giving into his wishes. He gently guides your hand over the mouse, watching you attempting to shoot things with terrible coordination.

It’s when you accidentally shoot someone that was trying to heal you that Jungkook bursts into laughter, a beautiful melodious tone that echoes off the walls.

“I told you I’m terrible!” You protest with a pout, and his laughter still bubbles as he moves behind you.

“Here, let me show you.” His hand laces over yours, effortlessly navigating your character.

You smile at the assistance, watching him cross all the hurdles and play infinitely better in comparison.

You turn to remark about it, but the words die in your throat.

His face is inches away from you, something he notices right away too. Neither of you move, the sounds coming from the game lingering in the background.

Jungkook shifts and you instantly move, your hand hitting your container of noodles.

It spills onto the ground and you immediately get up, clearing your throat.

“I-I’ll go get something to clean it up.” Jungkook simply nods, watching your backside disappear.

You head straight into his kitchen, pressing a hand against your racing heart. Deeply inhaling and exhaling, you glance around for a cloth, locating it on the edge of the counter immediately and turning back.

The doorbell rings.

You blink, hearing the loud sounds of the game coming from Jungkook’s room and wondering if you had imagined it. But then it rings again and you scramble forward, grasping onto the knob.

The sight before you shock you to your core.

Aera stands in front of you, arms crossed and her orbs tinged with cracks of red. They widen at the appearance of you, the shock scattering over her features reflecting your own.

“Y/N?”

“Aera?” You blurt out, wondering what she was doing here.

Her grand wedding is supposed to be in three days, and here she was.

Jungkook’s voice cuts through, “Y/N? Is everything oka–”

You hear his footsteps pad through the apartment before his breath hitches. Aera steps right in at the sight of him, walking straight past you and throwing her arms around his torso.

She sobs loudly and Jungkook’s pupils quiver, making direct eye contact with your confused ones, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her.

There’s a painful tinge in the center of your chest, but you ignore it.

“S-Sunoo–” Aera sputters out, clutching onto Jungkook tighter. “S-Sunoo and I….we had a fight!”

Jungkook can barely muster out any words, harshly swallowing. Your eyes widen at the reaction, and it’s not long before a cough leaves his lips.

You step forward, placing your hand on her back. “Aera, how about we take this outside?”

Her head tilts, like she had just noticed you’re also in the room.

At her silence, you slowly peel her hands off of Jungkook, who quickly scurries away into the confines of his room.

Aera’s taken aback with response, but nonetheless follows you like a lost puppy.

The moment you’re outside the apartment, she spills. “We ended up fighting, Y/N! Can you imagine?!”

She sobs more, eyes connecting with the door behind you.

“Why won’t Jungkook come out?”

“He’s…not feeling the best.” You wince, unable to come up with a better answer. “You know, you should check in on him every now and then.”

Images of the splattered flowers echo through your mind.

“What’s there to check?” She chuckles, sniffling and wiping her tears, “Jungkook’s always fine.”

Your chest tightens, something unfamiliar brewing.

“No one’s ever always fine.” You grit.

Even if his symptoms weren’t so painfully obvious, there was no way to simply dismiss it all as something mere like work fatigue.

Aera eyes you, baffled by your tone, “Since when have the two of you gotten close?”

You open your mouth a couple of times – unable to muster the exact words for an answer. However, you relent, shaking it away and opting to ask her about Sunoo instead, to which she gladly focuses on.

***

You spend a considerable amount of time coaxing Aera that Sunoo still loved her and that being stressed about wedding planning was completely normal.

She cries continuously and you pat her back, sprouting as much reassurance as you can all while bypassing any of her further inquiries about Jungkook. It seems to help, because soon she’s nodding in agreement as the tears within her eyes begin to dry.

She departs and you manage to head back into the apartment, exhausted beyond belief.

But Jungkook lingers in your mind.

You bolt into his room, heading directly into the connecting bathroom. The door whips open, and your heart clenches at the sight before you.

There’s bright yellow tulips. Everywhere. And Jungkook is in the middle of them, form slouched against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut and sweat sticking to his temples.

You immediately crouch down, placing his weak arm around your neck and helping him to his feet. When he sways, you let him lean his weight against you.

Sitting him down onto his bed, you withdraw into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. Reentering the bedroom, his gaze is downcasted and you silently hand him the drink, watching his fingertips curl around the cup.

You then walk back into the bathroom, taking every piece of petal that’s been scattered and throwing it into the toilet can. You flush it down the drain as Jungkook sips on the water, quietly watching you from afar.

You sit down next to him with a deep sigh, silence overtaking the dark room.

A shuddering breath leaves him.

“I started to forget…” He croaks, grasping your attention immediately, “I actually managed to forget about everything for once. The engagement, the wedding, her…”

You remorsefully watch as his eyes flutter shut, noticing the single tear that rolls down his cheek. It propels you to shift forward, wrapping your arms around him comfortingly.

He leans into your touch, head resting on your shoulder and his arm curling around your waist.

There’s a thought that lingers in the back of your mind, seemingly growing louder and louder with every passing minute.

“You know…” He lets out a low hum and you continue, willing all your courage together. “I ended up thinking about a third alternative in curing you.”

Within a heartbeat, he mumbles – “What was it?”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you let it out.

“For you to fall in love…with someone else.”

His breath hitches, form stiffening underneath your fingertips. You part from him and he slowly raises his head, staring at you impassively.

You fidget underneath his gaze, unable to read his thoughts.

After what feels like an eternity, you slowly pull yourself away from him. It was wrong of you to bring it up and you want to curse yourself for thinking otherwise.

Shuffling your feet, you stand up.

Jungkook’s hand clasps onto yours, tugging you towards him in an instant. Your eyes morph with surprise, but then his lips collide with yours.

It steals your breath away, warmth flooding through you and making you melt at his touch. He tentatively moves against you, lips softly brushing against your own.

He pulls back for a split second, chest rising and falling. But you lean forward, pressing your lips against his once again.

And that’s all it takes to drown.

Jungkook litters kisses all down your jaw and neck, and you find yourself stumbling backwards, back hitting his mattress. It’s only a matter of a few moments before his torso is hovering over you, and you reach up, clutching onto his shoulders.

Your clothes scatter across the room and Jungkook’s bare chest presses against you. He marks your skin in the shape of his lips, all while his name profusely tumbles out of your own. He pushes into you, gently at first, like he has something to prove. You accept him fully, nails sinking into his back as you both climax, an onslaught of gasps and moans escaping the two of you.

His arm wraps securely around your waist, and you're lulled into a deep sleep.

You’re woken to the sound of retching.

A gasp parts from your lips, and you immediately scramble up from the bed, dressed in only the shirt Jungkook had been wearing the night before. You stumble into the bathroom, finding Jungkook hunched over and surrounded with the yellow flowers once again.

However, your breath hitches.

Because this time there’s more of them, and they're all splattered with drops of scarlet.

“Jungkook!” You exclaim, knees buckling down. Placing your hand on his shaking back, you rub it up and down comfortingly.

“I-I was starting to feel b-better…” He chokes out in defeat, hands clutching onto the toilet. A cluster of coughs leave him, his voice disappearing as more and more red stained flowers overflow out.

You attempt to coax him, features twisted from watching him be contorted in so much pain. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” Your hold on him is firm, “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry, we’ll–”

“Y-You don’t understand….” He cries out, "I-I can't, Y/N…."

A deep furrow in your brows form and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes shut as his forehead lulls down, “I-I can’t do this anymore….I-I’m still in love with her."

It feels like someone’s just stabbed you in the heart.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, entangled in too much shame and agony to dare raise his head and say the same words with your eyes meeting his. The same pair of eyes that discovered him one day and reached out, not letting him stumble on his own anymore.

Orbs glossing over, you rise with shaky legs. The feeling in the pit of your chest twists and knots, spreading through you like a deep ache.

Jungkook can’t say anything, not even at the sound of you grabbing your clothes, the unevenness of your footsteps against his carpet, or the door shutting on your way out from his apartment, the frequency echoing off the walls. His gaze remains fixated on the flowers, even plucking one completely smeared in red, wondering why fate was always so cruel to him – why, in his mind when he’s smiling and laughing with you, Aera’s warm eyes and big smile show up there instead, forever imprinted into his brain.

***

You stagger on your way home.

A stream of hot tears roll down your face, with harsh breaths shuddering out of you. Your sobs are thundering and violent, racking through your entire form.

There’s a thousand emotions running through you, leaving your mind completely numb and your body feeling like it’s breaking, scattering into pieces. You wonder how you could have let it gotten to this point, wonder how you could have been so foolish.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you soon arrive at your apartment complex. You can barely unlock the front door, gasping as you stumble in.

You fall right at the entrance, clawing your hands around your throat, eyes rapidly darting and flickering everywhere. The pain accelerates, winding tortuously over and over around your windpipe.

The cord snaps.

A sharp chain of coughs leaves your lips, vibrating down your throat and through your lungs. It morphs into a retch and the contents come spilling forth before you can even blink.

Deeply heaving, you can only stare helplessly at the clutter of bright orangish-red tiger flowers before you.

Love is twisted.

It threatens to find you unexpectedly, spontaneously making you crumble within seconds. It’s a spur of the moment, welcoming in painful affection. Love at first sight, that withers into petals of grief. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something that turns your entire world upside down.

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more, rendering you weak and constricting your breathing, just as the mere thought of it makes you feel sick.

Until of course, it becomes long term, a trail of flowers never leaving your side.

You don’t see Jungkook for the remaining days until the wedding, avoiding him like the plague. He doesn’t reach out, keeping to himself like he’s always done.

However, running into him at the wedding now, is a completely different story.

He’s dressed in a sleek fitted black suit, his hair styled and pushed back. He’s working alongside the caterer, a crease in between his brows as he ensures the food arrives in a timely manner.

You had just entered the venue, eyes scanning around for any indication of where Aera might be.

As cruel as fate would be, your eyes suddenly find his.

You attempt to look away, but it only takes three steps for Jungkook to be right in front of you.

He looks the same, his skin pale and dark circles still underneath his eyes, tiredness running deep through him.

He opens and closes his mouth several times, before quietly asking a question that has you nearly coughing.

“Are…are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your voice comes out croaked, immediately taking a step back from him. He catches the movement and you notice it right away – the way his eyes scan all over your face.

You wonder if he can see the fatigue in your shoulders, wonder if he can see the bags starting to form under your eyes, or how pale you seem to have gotten. Wonder if he knows you were throwing up just this morning, mind swirling with thoughts of him and lungs brimming with flowers, unable to loosen the imprint he’s left.

“Are you sure? I–” He reaches out and you flinch, but then a call of your name has you spinning around.

“Aera has been looking for you two.” A woman you instantly recognize as her mother, informs. You nod, ignoring the pleading look in Jungkook’s eyes that just makes your lungs constrict.

After all, you were here for someone else entirely.

But when you and Jungkook follow her into a side room to see Aera completely decked out in a lavious white wedding dress, you can only harshly swallow.

“Y-You look amazing.” You sputter out, and she has a huge, radiant smile.

“Isn’t it lovely?” She chuckles, “I can’t wait until you get married and wear one too, Y/N!”

You know she means well, but your lips are pursued together, not a single word slipping out as you numbingly nod.

She turns to Jungkook, her smile widening, “What do you think, Kookie?”

It catches Jungkook off guard, his gaze previously on you.

A small smile laces on his lips and he answers her genuinely.

“It’s lovely on you, Aera. You look very beautiful.”

She giggles, looping her arm around his.

But you can see everything.

Jungkook’s eyes are tender and warm, fondness radiating out from every fiber of his body. He holds her gently, as if treasuring her was his uttermost priority.

Your breath hitches, a wave of nausea hitting you. There’s nothing you can mutter except a quiet ‘excuse me’ as you’re racing out of the room, hand clamping against your mouth and feet hurriedly filtering through the venue.

You don’t even find a bathroom, yanking open the door to a staff closet before you stumble down, tiger flowers bursting out of your lips. Water builds up in your eyes, hand clutching onto your chest as the retching continues, a deep burn being left behind.

It’s when the flowers slow down, decreasing in volume that you manage to swipe some of the sweat trailing down your temples. Your vision finally focuses through all the tears, small coughs still trembling through your windpipe.

A small gasp behind you has you freezing.

Your half-lidded eyes snap back, finding Jungkook's paralyzed ones. A hand is covering his mouth, his voice quivering.

“Oh my god….”

You don’t have the strength to will your voice to work, barely able to breath in and out with your congested airflow. Jungkook falls to his knees, eyes scanning all over the flowers before flickering up to you.

“You–” He begins, form frantic. “In here…the f-flowers….”

His hand plucks up on the tiger flower, perfectly matching the ink on his skin.

He lets go of the flower and it flutters down to you. His lips move, horror transfixed in his eyes as the realization dawns onto him, hitting him all at once.

“I-I broke you….”

You sniffle, arm coming up to swipe away the tears that have collected in your eyes. But Jungkook is faster, the pads of his thumbs immediately coming up to cup your face, gently brushing them away.

You look up, gaze locked onto his. And you can see everything.

He understands – his pain reflecting yours.

“Jungkook!” He sucks in a breath, head swiveling around to a voice echoing out from the closet. “Where have you been? Everyone’s already taken their seats.”

“I-I’ll be right there.” He turns to you, but you’re already scooping the flowers up, tucking them into a bag that you found nearby. Jungkook silently joins you, helping you until the closet is completely clear of any trace of them.

You leave before him, not exchanging one word.

The wedding commences.

You have taken your seat at the front, having a full display of the event right before you. Jungkook sits a row behind you, and you’re grateful at not having to be so close to him for the long duration.

Because as much as you can acknowledge the shared pain you hold – you know that the existence for Jungkook's is why you’re gathered here today, and you know that yours is just sitting a row away.

He will never love you like you do him. Aera will never love him like he does her.

The ceremony begins and you look up, gazing at the couple you’ve come to see tie the knot. The marriage officiant speaks up, going through each and every piece of what will bring them together. Your eyes are focused, but ever so and then, they furrow at Aera.

Not because of envy, but rather, it’s like her eyes are wavering, prodding around in the audience instead.

What is she doing?

You wonder, only seeing her glance at Sunoo a couple of times or breaking out of her daze to repeat the officiant words.

It’s almost like she’s focused on–

Your eyes trail, following her field of vision until it lands straight on Jungkook. And you’re even more caught off guard when you find out where his gaze is directed.

He’s looking at you, eyes not wavering even when you catch him.

You flush at the realization, quickly averting your eyes to focus back onto the couple. Thankfully, it soon draws to an end and the officiant wraps up the ceremony.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Sunoo leans in and Aera smiles, as does the officiant.

He pronounces them as husband and wife and a big cheer erupts from the guests. Everyone claps – including you and the couple descends down, interacting with those that have attended their wedding.

You take up the opportunity to depart, desperately needing some fresh air and Jungkook catches onto the action.

“Jungkook!” Aera exclaims, leaving Sunoo’s side and looping her arm around his, “Come on! I want a pictur–”

“Not now, Aera.” He winces with an apologetic smile, feet headed after the direction you’ve left in. Aera watches in complete disbelief, not even hearing Sunoo call out her name.

His steps are quickened, eyes darting back and forth. He bumps into a couple of guests on the way out, simply giving them a quick smile before he resumes trudging against the tiled floor.

His heart is racing, so much to the point where it feels like it might burst.

Within minutes, he finds your backside on a bench outside near the venue, shoulders hunched and making your form appear smaller than ever.

“Y/N?” He breathes out, slowly walking towards you.

“J-Jungkook?” You swivel, startled that he had followed you out here.

He stands in front of you, kneeling down. The eye contact makes you flinch, an uncomfortable sensation churning in your chest the longer he looks at you.

But before you can run away, before you can even search for a place to empty out the flowers threatening to spill from your throat, he leans forward.

He leans forward, and his lips collide with your own.

You softly gasp, heat brushing on your cheeks. It feels just like the first time you shared a kiss with him, warmth flooding through you.

Your trembling hands reach out, tugging him closer.

He places his own on top of yours, holding them as lips moving fervently against yours.

You feel it all – the delicate flowers blooming within your chest, the hues of orangish-red coloring your windpipe, the itch to push him away spiking more than ever.

But you part from him with a different reason altogether.

A sharp breath escapes you, airflow flooding into your lungs. It feels easier to inhale and exhale, no longer feeling like there was something constricting and blocking your windpipe.

As your chest rises and falls sporadically, you stare at Jungkook in astonishment. He mimics the expression you hold, a twinkle beginning to spark in his eyes.

Almost as if he were experiencing the same thing.

“I-I can–”

“Breathe?” He completes with a smile and you slowly nod, tears slipping out of your eyes.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you comfortingly, his own eyes glossing over as you tremble. The pads of his thumbs come up to cup your face, gently brushing your tears away.

He rises to his feet, reaching his hand out. You take it within a heartbeat, sniffling as he walks back into the venue with you.

Your tender gazes occasionally meet, with soft smiles being exchanged.

A sharp scream pierces through the air.

The two of you whirl around in an instant, noticing Aera's mother stepping out of the room in the frenzy.

“What happened?” You immediately ask, watching the woman’s shake her head frantically.

She doesn’t answer you, too caught up in her own thoughts, “Oh, it’s terrible, so, so terrible–”

You frown, but Jungkook tugs on you, eyes staring straight into the room that she had left.

Stepping next to him, your eyes transfixed into horror.

Aera stands in the middle of the room, with Sunoo by her side – a plethora of tiger flowers and tulips surrounding the two of them.

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rinbowaman · 5 months

Text

ROMAN HOLIDAY

Part one

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰:

Some fluff, minor comedy, slow burn type romance. Part 2 will have smut.

Had to take a break from MT's final chapter (it's almost done I promise) but I needed a break from Heedam (trust me…the man is getting juicy with his y/n.) so please enjoy this heartwarming piece based off the film with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. Sorry not proofread.

"Princess Y/N of (home country) has safely arrived to Italy as part of her European tour, becoming the diplomatic voice for the troubled youths of today's generation. The heir to King (your father's name) throne has received the warmest welcomes as she is greeted by the local nationals and the royal families of Europe.

Tonight, a grand ball will be held in the Princess’s honor, attended by the most pristine global guests at the Il Colosseo Rosa, where the sole heir will personally greet and address both, the royal and political unions of the continental divide.”

You gracefully appeared before the massive audience as General Hector Lucino, head of the royal guards, escorted you to the head of the ball room. The guests sigh and gasp at the sight as you delicately take your steps, greeting them with a warm smile and gently nodding your head in modesty. The level of class and sophistication within your aura wasn’t just a part of the years of royal grooming. No, this was the natural inheritance of your pure bloodline as the sole heir of your father’s nobility.

Taking his place by your side, the general stands by amidst the colonels and high ranking officials, along with your closest staff, the Duke of Sagewick, the Marquis of Pemberton, and the Duchess de Barbarac, your personal headmistress that cared and looked after you religiously.

The national anthem was played beautifully by a live performance, followed by your formal introduction as the announcer represented you to the public. Lined up before you, was the lengthy row of ambassadors, military officials, royal members of various continental houses, and more. As the announcer formally calls out their names, you greet them with grace and a formal introduction.

The gems of your necklace, earrings, and tiara shined brightly, yet still was no match against your heavenly smile. Your eyes, glistened by the chandelier lighting, twinkled like the stars in the sky, while your gown flared your noble appeal.

Moments after greeting the first ranking official, you lost track of the time. You were quite certain it had been at least thirty minutes since the announcer called the first name, and your feet were reminding you of it. You swore, it never mattered how often you wore these low heels, your body could never adjust to the extension as the balls of your feet began to beat with a sense of soreness. You did your best to shift between each foot, uncasting them from the intrusive pressures of the silkened pumps. Back and forth, between left and right, you shifted out of the pumps and wiggled your toes, stretched the arch, and returned back to your modest posture, never letting out a clue as to what was going on beneath your dress–at least, up until you mistakenly lost your balance, a rookie move for a seasoned princess. Failing to feed your foot back into the heel, you shifted in motion, causing a slight disruption when greeting the Grand Duke Casta of DeLatitia. You remained composed; your smile stayed ever so gentle as you tried your best to not pay any attention to the sudden note of humiliation.

Finally, the last member was called, and you would have felt relieved if it weren’t for the fact that your right, silk threaded pump falls over. You did your best to delicately put it back in place so that you could slip it back on, but to no avail. Between the sheer, slick material of your stockings and the smoothness of the pump’s material, you lost all will to place it back on foot. The audience all wait for you to take your seat, you nearly forgot as you remained ever so focused in getting your slipper back on, when the Duchess de Barbarac gently places a hand on your elbow, giving you a slight tug as she guides you back into your chair. Admitting defeat, you take your position and watch as everyone takes a breath and is relieved to finally sit down, only to find that laying lonesomely before you, was your abandoned slipper.

The general and royal staff members all signaled to the Duchess with a sense of urgency in their expressions. It took a few seconds for her to notice, but once she did, a frown of dismay nearly disrupted her calm look, but she caught herself and remained unperturbed, something she had mastered from years of training you.

The General whispers into the Marquis’s ear. Standing straight and tall, the man presents his hand, a formal gesture to ignite the first dance, in which you took the hint and accepted as you placed your palm in his. Taking a step down, he levels your balance as you were able to strategically hover over your slipper, and slip it back into place. All was well.

After spending the evening with the routines of royal responsibilities, it was finally time to lay the night to rest.

“Duchess?”

“Yes?”

“May I request a readjustment of my wardrobe?”

The duchess continues her tasks without pause, merely raising a brow in slight vexation. “A readjustment? What for?”

You finish brushing your long strands, placing the gold victorian brush down on your vanity. “My nightgown…I hate it.”

“You shouldn’t use the word ‘hate’ my dear, it’s very unsuitable for someone from your station.”

“But I do hate it–and I hate all of my underwear too.”

Slightly rolling her eyes, the Duchess bids you to come to bed. “Come to bed Y/N, we have crackers, and milk in a fine glass.” Tucking you in, she sets the tray table over your lap while grabbing onto her filefax, preparing to go over tomorrow’s schedule. “Now my dear, I know you dislike going over tomorrow’s events, but it must be done. Finish your milk and crackers, I will proceed.”

She places her thin glasses over the bridge of her nose, penciling her notes as she reads off the strict time hacks of all the press conferences, the visit with local orphanages, and the meeting with the Commandant of the Italian military forces.

“First thing, we have the press conference to address the rising concerns of global inequality within the woman’s workforce and illegal recruitment of children conducting factory labor.”

You sigh out as you munch on the saltine cracker. “I’ve visited this topic many times, how must I change the world when I am the sole individual addressing these concerns?”

“Oh my dear, that’s not proper language. You will have to accept and review the notes on the daily report.” Pulling out the document, the Duchess goes over the new avenues of approach to further emphasize the issue at hand, one that you had expressed on many occasions. Reading off each bullet point, you whispered out “Please…enough.”

“And statistics also show that many women have…”

“Please stop.

“Then there are the points of view of the religious community that you will have to address.”

“No thank you…”

“Furthermore, there are many cultural aspects that interfere with the viewpoints of women in the workplace that you must take into consideration as the diplomatic figure of your family’s household–.”

“STOP!!!”

The Duchess jumps at your tone, you finally snapped. It was long coming, yet the pressures of maintaining appearance and dignity only created a passive ball of depression that stormed in your chest, and tonight, it decided to burst out. “I can’t take it anymore! Just stop!”

“It’s alright Y/N, calm yourself, it's just nerves.”

“Nerves?! How dare you? Why does it always have to be this way? Why can’t I just be away from it all for once?”

“Your highness!” The Duchess raises her voice, doing her best to bring you back to a rational level, yet you continue to burst out in tears as you whimper out your absolute unhappiness with everything. The duties, the schedules, the constant controlling of your movements, the way you spoke, acted, thought, and felt–everything was too much, and you reached your breaking point.

“I will get doctor Rue.” The Duchess dismisses herself, hastily telling the guard to quickly alert the general and royal staff that their presence was urgently requested at once.

Moments later, the royal physician arrived with the royal staff following suit. You continue to cry and voice out your bitter disappointment; you certainly didn’t mean to act out, but who in the world could ever understand you? Everything was so mundane and dull, you lacked any excitement and spark in your life. WIth all the regulations and overhaul of agendas to fill your day, you barely had any time for yourself, much less to do anything memorable. The life of a princess, it was only glamorous and fashionable in the eyes of the public, but within closed walls, it was a disastrous lifestyle that you wish you could trade out in a heartbeat.

Doctor Rue fetched out a syringe and needle, his face remained poised as he presented the solution to your ‘problem’. “Your highness, here is a little something to help you rest.”

“I don't need to rest…I want out! Out! I want out of this life!”

“Now, now.” Pinching the flesh on your arm, he sticks you with the needle tip, injecting the clear fluid. “What’s that?” you asked while hiccuping your tears.

“Just a little something to help put you to sleep. By tomorrow morning, you’ll be good as new.”

After taking your vitals, he and the staff left you alone; you laid fully awake, gazing at the cathedral ceiling. From outside your window, across the river, you could hear the laughter, dancing, and musical air that flowed and graced the night. How wonderful to be that free and joyful?

“...I wish to be that happy.” you remarked to yourself, when your own mental voice presented you an ultimatum. So why don’t you?

You quickly got up and out of bed, dressing yourself in modest casual attire, if you could even label it as casual. Everything you owned was sophisticated, elegant, and lavish. The most basic pieces were still eye-catching, regarding the most high end fabric and design. But that wasn’t going to stop you, not one bit.

You peeked out through the door, to find the guards caught up in chit-chat. They stood in one end of the corridor, leaving the opposite path open, but just barely. You slipped through, hiding behind statues until the two pairs of eyes were looking away, which afforded you a chance to get by. Getting out from the inside was easy, it was the perimeter of the entire building and exiting the gate that was problematic. You were determined, which was further fueled by your success in getting out and hiding in the royal garden. Thankfully, you knew all the station points of where each guard and camera was set. The viewpoints of the camera lens were expansive, yet there were just enough blind spots for you to hide under as you swoop through, finding the organic market truck delivering fresh produce and meat for the chef and kitchen staff. Quickly, you snuck in the back of the cart, hiding behind a wooden cart of milk bottles as the driver closed up the tail, and started the vehicle.

With a left turn, and straight ahead, you took a quick peek to find that the truck left the gates behind, closing for the night as everyone contained within are left thinking you are still in your bed, when in all reality, you were finally free.

I did it…

You couldn’t believe it, this was entirely too good to be true. You finally made out and left the Colosseum. Resting your chin on the wooden crate, you watched all the happy couples taking their nightly stroll laugh and enjoy the Roman night. How dazzling it must be to be able to meet new people, go on dates, dress the way you see fit and to build companionship–a close and personal one at that. A world without having to be politically correct, not involved with the aggressive issues of world affairs and global diplomacy…just a life of chosen happiness and freedom. What a blissful and wonderful life that would be to have.

The truck finally stopped, subtly waking you as you began to drift off. It would seem that doctor Rue’s medication was starting to take effect, but you had come so far to just merely return and fall asleep. You had to see and experience more, ride a motorbike, go sightseeing and even drink real Italian soda, or eat ice cream from a cone, for once.

Walking along the sidewalk, you admired the dazzling architecture and fountains, graced by such remarkable statues.

“I can’t wait to see everything.”

…………………………………..

“Alright, show face gents.”

“I got nothing.”

“Got a straight.”

Ethan strokes his chin, leveling out his hand, revealing a full house. “Oh, a full house. Bet you were feeling lucky, eh Ethan?” Jake, Ethan’s best friend remarks with a devious tune in his voice. “Let’s have it.” Ethan mumbles out, already figuring he lost this round as he tosses the remainder of his poker chips.

“Royal flush! Go ahead and weep boys.” Jake announces delightfully as he scoops up his entire night’s winnings.

“Whatever, I’m out. I got a early morning tomorrow.”

“Ah, the press conference with Princess Y/N?”

“Yup.” Ethan lets out a tiresome sigh while placing his jacket on. “You heading out soon?” He raises a brow and extends an inquiry towards Jake. “Yeah, after a bit.”

“Cool, see ya.” At his que, Ethan leaves.

With his casual suit and tie, he takes a nightly stroll as his hands remain nestled in both pockets. What a night, another game ending with him losing a week's worth of pay, so much for a fun night out with the boys.

Up ahead, he spots a peculiar view. Drawing closer in, he notices you asleep on the bench. Odd. Why would a young lady, neatly dressed be asleep on the street.

“Miss?…Miss! Wake up.”

You mumbled as he dipped down to shake your shoulder. “Miss, you shouldn’t be sleeping here.”

“Mmm…not…not sleeping…”

“Uh huh.” Rolling his eyes, Ethan buries his hand back in the pocket before mocking your pitiful state. “You know, typically if someone can’t handle their liquor, they shouldn’t drink. Especially at this hour.”

“Mmm…” you flutter your lashes as you blink, all the while Ethan half-heartedly sits you up. “Mm…Art thou afeared to be the same in thine own act and valour as thou art in desire?” You drew out your tired voice as you reiterated your favorite verse, succeeding in impressing the rather stoic young man at your side. “Do you know who wrote that?” You questioned as your eyes go back to being shut.

“Huh…so you’re not only well dressed, but you’re also well educated.” Ethan tosses a small pebble in the air, catches it before skipping it against the placid surface of the water. “What is someone like you out here charting lines from Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”?” His tone was playful and teasing, but you hardly noticed as you drifted off. A nearby taxi drives close, and Ethan waves it down. “Well, see ya chica.”

He opens the car door before taking another pitiful glance at you. Your body goes limp as you lay yourself back down, nuzzling against the backrest of the bench.

Ethan comes back and taps your arm. “Hey, you take the cab. Come on, take it and go home.”

“Mmmmmmmngh….”

“Come on…” lifting you, he rests you against his shoulder as he helps you inside the back of the taxi. “Senor, where to?”

Ethan shuts the door as he does his best to stabilize you in the back seat. No matter how he tried, you kept slouching over, mumbling out tiresome moans as you expressed may times, over and over that you merely needed to sleep.

“Senor—“

“I know, I know.” Ethan appeases the cab driver as he grips your shoulders, and inquires your home address. “Miss, where do you live?”

“Mmmmmnnnngh.”

“Miss?”

“Mmmm….the….the colosseum..”

Ethan and the cab driver both exchange looks before proceeding once more to get a legitimate answer. “Uh…miss? Miss, where do you live?”

“Mmmm.”

“야!” Growing impatient, Ethan’s Korean roots comes out as he takes a harsh tone and verbiage to you ”진지하게…“

“Signore, per favore devo andare—“

“Okay, okay.” Rubbing his temples, Ethan winces out of frustration as he reignites the question once more. “Miss, where do you live? Don’t say—“

“Mmm colosseum….”

“…the colosseum.” He whispers in defeat as faces the cab driver. “Please driver to Casa Gabriella.”

“Ah! Thank you Signore!” The cab driver enthusiastically thanks Ethan before driving to the street belonging to his own residence.

Between going back and forth with trying to get an answer out of you, and reasoning with the driver, Ethan found himself in a pickle, having no choice but to take you in for the night. “Damn…” he huffed under his breath.

He pays the driver before seeing you in through the gated entrance. Thumbing through his pocket, he fetched for his keys, yet paused upon feeling a sudden density resting against his back. He looks over his shoulder to expand his peripheral sight, catching the subtle image of you sleeping on his back and barely standing with his frame as support. Clearing his throat, he faces back forward as he unlocked the gate.

Leading you through the entrance, Ethan guides you in by the hand. You walked closely behind, practically sleep-walking with your eyes glued shut. He knew that your ‘inebriation’ was the cause in your lack of functionality, yet he couldn’t help but think of how childish you appeared as you rubbed your eyelids, tucked in your chin, and gently stomped your heels while being dragged through the outer corridor.

He proceeds to climb the staircase, when your hand began slipping through his grip. He looked back, only to find that you managed to continue forward, but on the opposite of the stair rail.

“Oh come on…” Ethan sighed tirelessly, raising your hand above head and once again, guided you all the way back around and on to the steps.

He fishes through his key ring, grabbing the one that unlocked his front door. You stood behind, eyes shut, swaying as you waited, not at all coherent. He only looked away for a second as he grabbed the house key, when he looked back just in the nick of time. Aiming for the door, you recognized the structure of the entrance to Ethan’s neighbor, even at your sleeping state, you managed to not only realize that there was a door beside you, but also decided to act brazen as you marched straight for the frame with your fist balled up, seemingly ready to knock at such a late hour.

“Shit!” Ethan harshly whispers as he leans forward and by the grace of God, was able to catch onto your wrist before you made contact with the door.

“Wheeeeeeeew….” Breathing out steadily, Ethan regains his posture, while pulling you back in and behind him. He quickly enters and drags you to his apartment, finally able to take a breath. This was much harder than he expected.

You merely stood by his bed, your chin still tucked in with your eyes closed. Now that you were in a stable environment, Ethan was able to take a breather and sipped on some scotch, trying to take the edge off from being bestowed as your babysitter.

“Mmmmmnnn…do you know my favorite Shakespeare verse?” You mumbled out, drawing your words in a somber tone.

Eyeballing you as he sips from the glass, with hand in pocket and his frame casually leaned against the wall, Ethan tucked in his lips as he relished the taste of liquor gracing his tongue. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” he sets the glass down and digs through his drawers.

“Here.” Presenting you with a pair of cotton, checkered seat pants and an oversized tee shirt, you lazily received them as your eyes opened just a sliver. “Pajamas?”

“Yup. The bathroom is to your right, you can change in there.” His tone expressed annoyance, watching as you half wittingly untied your neck tab. “May I have a silk nightgown with baby rose buds on the hem?”

Ethan raises a brow, tucking his hands back in his pockets. Did you seriously just request for something so lavish after all you had put him through? ‘Huh…typical rich girl.’

“Sorry princess, you’re gonna have to rough it out with these tonight.”

He turns back over to fetch his glass and finishes off his drink. “May I have some?”

Ethan nearly choked out upon hearing you request for a drink. “No! Go change and get to sleep!”

He wipes the leaked beverage from his lip and checks the time on his wrist watch. “I’m going to step out for a bit. Change over and you’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Will you assist in my undressing?”

‘What did she just ask me to do?’……

“Come again, young lady?”

“Please undo my attire so that I may retire to bed.” You expressed as you tilted your nose up into the air. Your eyes remained closed as you slightly spread your arms apart.

Peaking a perturbed brow, Ethan rolled his eyes before ‘assisting’ in undressing you. He squares up and looks down and reviews your sleepy countenance. “Uhh….um…here.” Pulling the neck sash loose from your collar, he hands it to you and watches as you barely grabbed onto it. “There. I helped.”

Turning hastily, he locks up the scotch before grabbing onto the knob. “I’m going out for a bit. Remember, you sleep on the couch, got it?”

You loosened the fabric belt and unbuttoned your skirt, turning around, you flared your wrist and delicately graced the air with a fingered motion. The moment you rotated, your skirt drapes downward and falls to the floor. “You have my permission to withdraw.”

Ethan simply rolled his eyes once more as he shuts the door. “Whatever princess, don’t touch anything.”

……………

Walking back up the stairs, Ethan rubbed his eyes. He was so tired, while he was out, he effortlessly asked around to see if he could find anyone that recognized your description, but it was futile. Guess you really had to stay over in his apartment until you sober up in the morning. Re-entering his apartment, he tosses his keys before noticing, much to his dismay, that you were nestled into his bed.

“Oh Hell no! Come on! I said couch…couch!”

He flings his jacket aside as he loosens his tie. Placing both hands on his hip, what a night this turned out to be.

He changed over to his own set of pajamas before attempting to configure a way to fit himself in the bed. Placing a row of pillows between both your bodies, he attempted to gain comfort and place head to pillow, when in a blink of an eye, his goose-feathered fortress was demolished as you turned over. Swinging your arm and leg, you rolled over in your sleep as you limbs held onto him. “What the—“

He flings your limbs away and sits upright. His full size bed was simply not large enough for you both, so he was left with only one other option.

“Move over.”

Bouldering you to the edge, he rolls you right onto the couch beside the bed and watches as you land against the stuff cushion. “So happy…” you mumbled out.

“Shut up.” Fluffing his pillows, he lays back down and finally, at precisely 3 am, he was able to get some sleep.

“….Mmm…so happy...”

“Girl, I swear to God…”

………………………..

“General, we’ve searched the entire premises. There is no sight of Princess y/n.”

“Keep each detachment commander on standby, we must handle this with the utmost discretion. Understand? The Princess is the direct heir to the throne, we must avoid any stir with the press.”

The guard snaps a salute before pivoting and taking his leave. The royal staff all sit around in complete disarray. “We will issue a public statement that the Princess is ill, that will excuse and cancel out the list of events we have coordinated.”

The general strokes his chin as he listens to the Marquis. “Well…all that’s left is to notify their majesties…”

The royal staff all stood, eyes widening as they prepare to take in whatever was coming. Your father, the King, was known to be a fair and benevolent man, but overly harsh and stern when it came to grave mistakes—in this case, losing his only child.

……………

Ethan fluttered his eyes open, harshly greeted by the sun peering through the window. What time was it? Time…the time!

Jolting up, he snags his watch from the bedside table. “Shit…the press conference with the Princess…Fuck!”

Jumping out of bed, he quickly got dressed, not at all paying attention to the abandoned ‘drunk’ he had watched over from last night. You remained heavily asleep on his couch, which was all dandy with him. He didn’t have time to arrange for your departure; right now, his job was at stake. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Running out, he catches a cab ride and proceeds to the office, unaware that various media outlets had published countless articles of your ‘illness’ and the cancellation of the arranged conference.

“Ethan! Mr. Park has been looking for you.”

“Yeah…got it.”

Taking in a breath, Ethan walks in to greet his boss. “Hey.”

“Where have you been?”

“You want the truth or a harmless lie?”

“Don’t even bother Ethan.” Jay, a longtime friend and employer of Ethan and Jake, eaves his hand as he dismisses his friends lack of responsibility. “I stopped giving a shit a long time ago. If I continued to stress over you, you would have been fired a hundred times by now.”

Ethan smirked as he issued a slight nod. “Sorry, I overslept. I had a…rather rough night.”

“What? Did boys night end so badly that it kept you from sleeping?”

“I wish.” Ethan sighed as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Anyhow, I know I’m late but I’ll head over to the press conference and see if I can catch the end of it.”

Jay perks up a brow. “The press conference?”

“Yes sir.”

Jay scoffs as he rubs his forehead. “It’s rather ironic that you were for a media outlet but you can’t keep up with current events.”

“What do you mean?” Taking a sip, Ethan stares at Jay wide eyed, completely unaware of what his friend was referring to. Tossing a bundle up newspaper article towards him. Jay snaps his fingers as he gazes at a mischievous expression. “Read it. Princess is out sick, the press conference was canceled, dummy.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed together as he unraveled the paper and proceeded to read the headline, when the image header nearly caused his heart to skip a beat.

“It’s postponed until further notice, so saddle up because I have a feeling that once she’s in the clear to make public appearances, there’s going to be a riot of journalists trying to get their greedy questions answered.”

Ethan didn’t hear a single word, instead, he stared into the portrait styled photograph that graced every front page in the country.

“J-Jay…”

“What?”

“Is…this the princess?”

Jay shifts his elbow on the desk, leaning cheek to palm as he breathed out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, smart one. THAT, is the princess, y/n.”

Ethan crinkles the paper, internally giggling as he grabbed on to the fortuitous opportunity. “If I got an exclusive interview…what would that get me?”

Raising his brows, Jay slowly raises his head, his interest peaked at Ethan’s words.

“Yeah, that’s right you heard me. EXCLUSIVE…”

……………………

Building up beads of sweat, Ethan hurried back to his apartment. He couldn’t relish the details to Jay, but he only hinted enough to shake on a granted promotion and independence, should he gain an one of a kind interview with you, Princess Y/N.

He bursts through the door, and to his everlasting joy, you were still asleep. He quickly shuts the door and maneuvers the furniture in his flat, and tidies up the bed stand. Looking overhead, he made a sudden realization as it dawned on him that you were on the couch. He made you, the Princess, sleep on a couch.

“Let’s fix that real quick.”

Huffing under his breath, he lifts you up and over, placing you back on the mattress as he fixes the pillows and bed spread.

The sirens of local national security could be heard roaming the streets, he already knew the meaning behind it. Taking a final glance at the paper, he compares your face to the image. “It really is her…”

Clearing his throat, he shoved the paper behind his headboard before gently waking you. “Um…your highness?”

“Mmmm….”

Not exactly the response he was looking for. Trying once more, he issues a more authoritative tone as he lightly taps your leg. “Your royal highness…are you awake?”

“Yes, what is it?” You rolled over, refusing to open your eyes or get out of bed. You felt so exhausted. “Please close the curtains, the sun is too bright, doctor.” You softly commanded as you nuzzled your nose against the pillow.

“Ah…sure.” Ethan was ecstatic, this could practically be a route for him to take on early retirement.

“Your highness, can you sit up for a moment?”

“Mmm….doctor….I had the strangest dream.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.”

Your eyes remained shut as you recounted whatever details you could vaguely recall from last nights ‘dream’. “I dreamt that I was away…and I met a man.”

“Oh?” Developing a mischievous grin, Ethan probes. “What did he look like?”

“Mmm…tall…he was so tall.”

“Yeah?”

“Tall….handsome….and he was so mean to me.” You frowned at the bitter end of your sentence, which had Ethan’s grin quickly transitioning to a somewhat guilty look.

“Is that so?….Sorry to hear that.”

You flung your arm over your eyes as you bashfully grinned out. “It was wonderful…”

Ethan’s grin reappears. “Glad to hear it.”

Basking in the warmth of the sun's rays, you slowly opened your eyes to spot the blurred silhouette of the man before you. It must be a side effect of the medication. Blinking, you cleared your vision as you re-opened your eyes one more, only to find that the clarity of your sight displayed the truth of your detailed account.

‘What…..who….where am I?’

You stared endlessly as the voice in your head questions the current nature of the setting, when Ethan’s voice shocks you. ��Good morning….”

His face…this man is…

Part two coming soon…

Authors note: I promise “Devil Wears Prada” is in the works. That one has a more elaborate storyline.

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