#wedding au fanfiction

[wardenparker]

From Dorne, with Love - part 1

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Your little sister is marrying her fairy tale princess on the exotic desert island nation of Dorne. Your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s playboy uncle is the other member of the wedding party along with you, but will your opposite approaches to life drive you apart before the ceremony even begins? Or is it possibly the beginning of a future you never thought possible?

Rating: Mature, but please remember by whole blog is 18+ Word Count: 14k Warnings:  Some instances of reader being pig-headedly stubborn and some ‘ugly American’ moments, but we learn and grow in this house. Another one of our patented shitty families. Male nudity, just a sprinkling of MM shenanigans, mentions of bad break ups, mentions of infertility, some naughty teasing, cat lady jokes, food/alcohol consumption Summary: The day before your little sister’s wedding, you arrive at her fiancée’s family home - a palace in the exotic island nation of Dorne. An unconventional first meeting with her uncle, Prince Oberyn, has the potential to completely upend the way you’ve been living your life for years. Notes: I had a little daydream, and an Oberyn craving, and Keri is a beautiful soul who encourages my filthy thots. Although to be fair, this is pretty clean for an Oberyn fic. A big, bright and beautiful ✨Happy Birthday✨ to our man Pedro and the positivity he puts out into the world. Let’s all take that example to heart a little more and make 2022 brighter. 💖

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Epilogue

The car that picked you up from the airport - god what a glorious flight that had been, six hours of first-rate pampering thanks to Air Dorne's attentive staff - has been driving for an hour now when you finally get a glance of your destination outside the tinted windows. The Dornish coast is gorgeous, but you've been anxious to get a glimpse of the place you'll be staying this week for your little sister's wedding. 

The fact that Lily is getting married in the first place is a lot to absorb, even though the whole family loves her college girlfriend-now-fiancée. But this wasn't just any college girlfriend that your baby sister brought home for her first American Thanksgiving during their freshman year at Columbia. No, sweet and funny and crazy about your sister Aja Targaryen, is second in line to the throne of Dorne as a niece of the current king. Her uncles has insisted on throwing the wedding and hosting you and your parents at the castle known forbiddingly as the Old Palace just outside the capital of Sunspear for an entire week. The whole thing is a little surreal to you, but Lily is happy and ultimately that's really all you care about. 

A vacation isn't something you allow yourself anyway, as you have a business to help run in the middle of New York City. It's fast paced and demanding and you absolutely love it, but it doesn't give you a lot of time for a social life or relaxing. That is what this week is for - to relax. To relax and celebrate with your little sister as she marries the love of her life. 

At a palace.

Alright, maybe you're not totally relaxed about this.

******

The door to the palace opens before the crunch of the oyster shell gravel even comes to a stop as the tires of the car halt in front of the large circular driveway. While Doran had wanted to pave the drive, Oberyn had insisted that the traditional drive was both nostalgic and charming. The butler, decked out in the royal colors of yellow, orange and burnt red, opens the door. "Welcome to Sunspear, seat of House Martell." He bows respectfully as you emerge from the car.

“Um…thank you.” It’s all so intensely grand. Like a fantasy show and a Hallmark movie got smashed together and this is what erupted. You take the official invitation for the wedding out of your pocket and show it to the man in uniform. “I’m here for Princess Aja’s wedding. I—I’m the other bride’s sister.”

"Of course." Hobard has been well informed of family to arrive. "Princess Aja has arranged for you to stay in the East Wing, adjoining the family's private living quarters. I am instructed to inform you that her Highness and your sister had a last-minute detail to oversee and will greet you at the cocktail party this evening." He notes that your eyes widen slightly in panic at being alone in a strange place. "Prince Oberyn has graciously offered to keep you company if you wish. He is in the garden by the pool."

“Thank you.” The words stick a little but you are actually grateful - this man, whatever his job title actually is - isn’t condescending or snobby like you would expect from someone who is the first person to greet new arrivals at a literal palace. A younger man in a similar uniform emerges from the building and whisks away your suitcase, leaving you with no pretense to retreat to your room and you offer the man who greeted you a smile. “Would you point the way to the garden?” 

It won’t be so bad to meet Aja’s uncle. You had Googled him and found out about his military service and reputation as Dorne’s most legendary playboy along with finding plenty of paparazzi photos of him, but no personal details. The only personal details you know about him come from Aja when she tells stories about her family on the rare occasion you get to have down time with her and your sister.

"This way." He gives you a small nod and leads you into the house. The cool marble tiles on the floor echo as the two of you make your way through the large entry hall. The large, curved staircases to the left and right lead to the private wings. "Shall I offer you a refreshment?" He asks kindly, knowing that while you might have had a drink or two on the plane, the heat and arid climate of Dorne often works up a thirst in a lot of visitors.

“Thank you.” Accepting the offer gratefully since you haven't really processed the fact that you’re basically on a desert island before getting out of the car. You huff at yourself slightly and offer the man another smile as you walk alongside him. “I do know other words, I promise.”

"The Prince and his guest have been drinking Dirty Bananas." He smirks slightly, although you cannot see that. "Shall I make another pitcher, or would you prefer something lighter? Perhaps a frozen peach Bellini?"

“I don’t think I know what is in a Dirty Banana,” you admit, stifling a laugh at the ludicrous name. Mixology had never been your strong point even when you were building your skill set. “But Bellinis are my favorite. That’s very kind of you.”

After another few minutes, he comes to the large glass doors that lead to the famous Dornish Water Gardens. An oasis in the desert that is fed from a deep spring of fresh water and are absolutely breathtaking. "If you follow the path, miss, I will get started on your drink. Go past the privacy hedges that separate the gardens from the pool. You will find the prince there." He tells you as he opens the door for you.

“Thank you.” At least this time when you say it, he smiles too, and nods before he walks away to leave you alone in your way to the garden. Just this one scene in front of you is easily the most beautiful, most exotic sight you’ve beheld with your own eyes, and you always know you’ll be filling up your phone with photos this week even if you never leave the palace. 

Palace.

Of all the ludicrous things in the world, Lily went and fell in love with a princess whose family lives in a palace. You shake your head at that, crossing past the hedges into the legendary Dornish Water Gardens only to stop short the moment you focus on the people lounging by the pool: two completely nude men sipping cocktails and making out under the hot sun.

******

Oberyn cups the back of Selvin's head, tilting it exactly how he wants as his tongue slides into his mouth for another kiss. Groaning slightly at the enthusiasm of the man's eager response. He hums, exploring for a few more seconds before he pulls away, dark eyes watching as the other man's flutter open slowly with a small smirk on his face. "Relaxed, no?" He purrs before he lays back on his own lounger and picks up the half melted frozen cocktail that had a double entendre for the day. "I told you that you would forget your worries today."

As if this moment couldn't get any more awkward for you, the lithe blonde man who apparently was forgetting all his worries today hums out a very amused sound and nudges the figure of the man you recognize from photographs as Prince Oberyn Martell. "My prince," he nearly giggles. "We have an audience."

Oberyn turns his head towards you, lowering his dark aviator sunglasses and peers over them at you. “Ahhhhh, the illusive sister.” He sets his drink down and rises from his seat. “You have arrived.”

"I–" Yeah...yeah...you have arrived. But you aren't nearly as arrived as he is, with his perfectly darkened skin devoid of tan lines and his - yep, that is his penis - swinging free in the breeze as he sways toward you. Your throat runs dry immediately, all of that moisture shooting directly south to pool at the apex of your thighs because holy shit, no photograph in the world has ever done this man justice, but you have to shake that off just as quickly to have any hope of getting your composure back. "I was told to–" Come on, get your shit together. "Prince Oberyn, I presume?"

"Lover." Selvin chides Oberyn, making him pause and turn back towards the other man. "She's American." He huffs, glancing down pointedly at his nude body and then back at you. "I fear she is about to melt under the Dornish sun from embarrassment."

"It's fine." You insist, studiously forcing yourself to only look each man in the face, but you can hear exactly how unconvincing you sound.

"See, it is fine." Oberyn hums, even as he turns around to give you a view of his ass as he walks over to a table and picks up a buttery yellow sarong to tie around his lean hips. "She is the maid of honor, where I am the man of honor of Aja. It is tradition we sleep together, no? She is just getting a preview of what to expect." He smirks in amusement as he ties off the wrap and starts walking back over you in order to greet you properly.

Every trendy idiot walking around Williamsburg in what they called genderfluid clothing to be hip would be put to shame by the utter beauty of the man in front of you - silky fabric hugging his hips better than the most expensive designer skirt ever seen on a runway model. You're so distracted by the beauty in front of you that you barely even heard him make the comment about sleeping together and it registers a second too late, as he is reaching for you with both hands. "I'm sorry, we what?"

"I know I am not mistaken." Oberyn tells you with a smirk as he leans down to press his lips against your cheek, one then the other. "I have attended many weddings and there is always a hurried fuck in the coat closet between the best man and maid of honor." After he kisses your cheeks, he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "Unless you don't wish to fuck a prince?" He asks, arching an eyebrow as he looks up at you.

"I hadn't ever considered it a possibility." You admit, so bewildered by the seeming offer that you're probably not even processing it properly. His reputation as an indiscriminate lover was apparently true, but in such a dramatic way that it feels a little like being thrown into a farce. "I'm just here for my sister. Anything else is...well, I don't have any expectations, I guess."

Oberyn smirks, glancing at your outfit and tutting slightly. "Your outfit will make you roast out in this sun." He keeps your hand in his and he turns to guide you towards the shaded area. "Has Hobard offered you a drink? We are having Dirty Bananas." He chuckles, "Chocolate mudslides with bananas, if you would like to sample mine."

"Everything is taken care of, sire." Hobard appears from nowhere, rescuing you from having to reply, and bearing a tray with a frosted pitcher of frozen Bellinis and icy cold glass. "The lady's things have been set out in the Iris Room when she is ready to go inside."

"Perfect!" Oberyn gives a pleased grin and winks at you. "You are across the hall from me. If you get scared, just crawl into my bed, Iris." 

Selvin laughs behind him, getting up from his own chair and wrapping a towel around his waist. "I must go, I have to actually do some work." He pouts, wishing he could say and see how many mortified faces you will make under Oberyn's blatant flirting. Not many people can withstand him for long and it's always interesting to see how quickly they give in.

The men bid each other an affectionate goodbye and Hobard disappears back into the palace as quickly as he had appeared, leaving you alone with the relentless Prince Oberyn and a fresh pitcher of frozen alcohol. "Your friend seems very nice," you offer, reaching for the glass on the tray that Hobard left behind for you. Something tells you that being stone cold sober around the prince - a fucking real life prince - is only going to leave you confused and flustered.

"He does, doesn't he?" He observes, wondering if you are timid or just unsure of yourself as he strides over to the pitcher that Hobard had left and picks it up to pour you drink. He fills the glass to the very top carefully. "But I'm more interested in how nice you are." He says with a smirk.

"Do you always choose your next conquest before discarding the previous?" It isn't meant to sound harsh, but the comeback whips out of your mouth at full speed like you're warding off coeds in a Manhattan dive bar.

Oberyn cocks his head at you in surprise. Obviously not the shy wallflower he was starting to suspect you of being, which will make things infinitely more interesting this week. "Selvin is...friendly, yet casual." He tells you. "The lure of having a prince as a lover is what he wished for, and he gets, when the urge strikes."

“I didn’t—” The instinctive desire to evaporate is definitely there, but he doesn’t seem upset about being sassed at all. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just…not something I’m used to. Maybe that’s just very American of me, I don’t know.”

"Men fucking each other?" Oberyn asks, amused at the way that your eyes show your complete mortification and wish to have the earth open up and swallow you. "Or being casual about pleasure?" His eyes flicker down to your lips as he reaches over and plucks a berry from a bowl on the table, lifting it up to his own lips to slip it inside his mouth.

“My sister is a lesbian,” you remind him with one nearly raised eyebrow. “I don’t care about anybody’s sexual orientation.” Swallowing an exasperated sigh, you take a long sip from your drink and shake your head a little to let the cobwebs lose. Getting combative because you were taken off guard is not the first impression on your sister’s future in-laws you want to make, and you have no business walking into someone else’s home and judging them for how they behave in it. “I apologize,” you tell him, rolling your shoulders back gently. “Starting a bickering match is not the first impression I wanted to make, and you haven’t done anything besides be welcoming. Can we start over?”

Pouting, Oberyn swallows the berry and hums, stepping around you and lowering his mouth to your ear. "My dear Iris, perhaps bickering is foreplay?" He murmurs. "Stirs the blood. Are you sure you wish to start over?"

The reality of the situation, you realize when you shiver a little at his breath on your neck, is not a terrible one. A prince - widely regarded as one of the sexiest men in the world - is flirting with you. You. Just some nobody that people pay to cook for them. By his standards you probably qualify as a servant, but somehow you don’t think he would care even if he knew that. Isn’t this most people’s dream? If you kicked back in your own mind, didn’t it used to be your fantasy? “Maybe not.” When you finally get the words out, they sound much more confident than you feel. Good. “Just know that I wasn’t judging anything. Just taken off guard.”

"Good. You should never limit pleasure." Oberyn coos, not missing the shiver that had raced across your skin even with the warm temperatures. "And seek it wherever you can." He wraps his hand around yours holding the glass and pulls the sweating drink towards your mouth. "Drink up little Iris. You seem hot."

If you were this affected by some random guy in a bar being this forward with you, you would be embarrassed for yourself, but there is something about it that completely flips when it’s out in the burning sunshine of a palace garden in exotic Sunspear. “So you’re Aja’s man of honor?” You ask, gratefully following his direction to take a sip of your drink.

"I am." He lets go of your hand and ambles around you to pluck another berry out of the bowl by the pool. "My little niece is my favorite. I have loved her since chasing after her in nappies through these halls when she was a baby."

“She’s very sweet.” Not having him next to you makes it a little easier to breathe, almost like if he gets too close you might get pulled irrevocably into his orbit the way the blonde man from earlier has. “Since the first time Lily brought her home to meet our parents, we’ve all completely adored her. They’re great together.”

"Aja can charm anyone." Oberyn boasts proudly, as if he were her father instead of her uncle. Perhaps it is because his oldest daughter is just a little behind her. He had started procreating young, much to his mother's disapproval. "And your sister is her perfect match."

“Aja is charm and Lily is enthusiasm.” Your little sister’s unabashed love of life and positivity is the root of her bubbly personality and it’s also part of what her friends love about her. “But she didn’t give us too many pieces of insight into Dornish weddings. She just said they wanted to surprise us.” Which Oberyn had certainly done all on his own.

"Well, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, now would I?" Oberyn shoots you a grin and picks up his own frozen drink. "Although tonight will be the cocktail party. The first of many events for the week."

You should have known he would be one for teasing and clever reveals, and it makes you smile despite yourself. “I just want everything to be perfect for them,” you clarify. “I know about the cocktail party, and that the wedding is supposed to go from sundown tomorrow to sunup the next morning. And Lily said something about fireworks. But that’s all.”

"Everything will be perfect." Oberyn assures you. "Your presence is all that is needed for that." He winks and takes a sip of his drink. "Just make sure that you have properly stretched."

“That sounds…intriguing.” And slightly forbidding, if you’re honest with yourself. But you simply sip your drink and file Oberyn’s wink away as something you’ll be describing to your friends back home in great detail when the week is over.

“We will have to make sure that you experience everything Dorne has to offer.” Oberyn decides with an easy smile. “I would hate for you to think us poor hosts.”

“I don’t think there’s any chance of that.” Walk in the door and have your own pitcher of your favourite cocktail on hand and then get an eyeful of the single most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life? Yeah…Dorne definitely made a better first impression on you than you did on it. “What would you recommend I see before the week is over?” Surely he - a man who has lived here presumably most if not all of his life - has a better handle on what must be seen that tourism websites.

“The ceiling in my suite is stunning.” Oberyn jokes, enjoying the way that your eyes cut away bashfully. “A tour of the Water Gardens is of course a must, with a lover of course.” 

“Your Highness,” it feels so odd to call someone that in real life, but - well - that is who he is. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but I’m not in the market for a lover.” After years of people getting fed up that your work was your priority, men who hated that you had a mind of your own and women who packed their things up and left when you went out of the apartment every morning to work two jobs instead of playing hooky, you had decided to just throw up your hands. It wasn’t worth the heartache anymore.

That makes Oberyn frown, looking you up and down with disappointment written all over his face. “How do you relax if not allowing a lover to suck on your clit until you are shaking with pleasure? Or fucking you until your body is limp from cumming so much?” He cannot even fathom such a life, there being too many forms of pleasure in the world. “Not yearning for a lover to caress your skin and hold you close with their lips pressed to yours.” He tuts again.

You nearly snort, banishing the very visceral way your body reacts to the images he paints by having another sip of your drink. “According to my last girlfriend, I don’t relax.”

“Then you are not being fucked properly.” Oberyn huffs, shaking his head. The mention of a girlfriend makes him think that you are not attracted to men. He tilts his head. “I know a gorgeous creature that would make you forget all your worries if pussy is what you prefer.”

“It’s not that. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer.” Even if it is a little strange to you, for a virtual stranger to be so preoccupied with your sex life, you can see how it is actually a thoughtful offer if pleasure is what you’re life is focused around. Which his seems to be. “It just…never works out.”

Oberyn shrugs, unwilling to push further. You seem firm in your refusal of his advances and despite his amorous reputation, he does not persist when the answer is no. “Then it’s because they didn’t want it to work, or you didn’t.” He quips before he motions over to the chairs in the shade. “Sit so you do not get overheated. It is change from your climate.”

“When I left New York there was still snow in the ground.” You snort a little, settling yourself in one of the shaded chairs with your glass and choosing to ignore his observation about your lack of a love life. “Has Dorne ever seen snow? Even a freak dusting?”

Oberyn laughs, shaking his head. “Not that I’ve ever read in our history books.” He admits. “Unless you count the snow we truck in for the kids to have snowball fights with in winter. Indoors of course.”

“You’re not missing anything.” His laugh is rich and throaty and addictive, and you find yourself smiling unconsciously. “Icy sidewalks and mud mixing with snow to make slush, and the accidents when the storms are bad.” You take another sip of your drink and shake your head. “Snow is the best when you can watch it falling outside the window. If I could find a busy city like New York in a climate like this? I don’t think I’d ever leave.”

“Is the energy you seek?” He asks curiously. “Or the employment? You are a chef, yes?”

“Both, I think.” You can’t remember if you said something or he heard something from Aja, but either way, he’s correct. “I like to be busy, and New York definitely gives me that. But it isn’t the only place in the world for a chef, or even to open a restaurant one day.” But restaurants take money - far more money than you have managed to save working your way up in the kitchen at the little Italian place you’ve worked for years upon years now while living in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

“Are you good?” Oberyn asks, curious to see how you would describe yourself.

That makes you grin, your lips curling up at the edges. You may not have confidence in every part of your life, but you definitely do about your food. “I could always cook for you, and you can decide yourself,” you offer, knowing you have plenty of tricks up your sleeves.

Oberyn smirks, wanting you to offer. It had been his goal when he asked you the question. “I will show you the kitchens.”

“Now?” There’s supposed to be a party in just a few hours and a damn wedding tomorrow and you know they’ll be busy - it would be professional ass hole behavior to barge in on them now of all times. But for all you know, this palace has six different kitchens depending on what meal it is and who is at home.

“We only have right now. The family suite has a kitchen.” Oberyn clarifies. “Unless you wish to relax?”

“Cooking is relaxing.” It’s something that is completely true for you, and most people really can’t wrap their heads around. Twelve hour shifts at the restaurant at nonstop speeds are exhausting, sure. But you still go home and lovingly cook yourself small meals using all the same methods to center yourself again.

“Excellent.” Oberyn purrs. “I can show you where you will be sleeping, and you can relax.”

“Sounds perfect.” The itch in your fingers from not having cooked yet today will be banished and you couldn’t be happier. Most people like to be waited on, but you can’t stand the feeling of idleness. “Lead the way, your Highness.”

Oberyn picks up the pitcher of Bellinis and carries it with him, turning and holding out his arm. “My lady.” It's a test, to see how rigid you actually are. Lily complains that you don't experience life enough, not living in the moment. He can already see that, but he wants to see if perhaps you just have to know how to entice you.

There is a moment of hesitation on your part, a moment where you look at the statuesque man barely covered by a single length of billowing fabric with a sultry smile on his lips, and you shrug internally. Putting your hand on his arm is not the same as agreeing to sleep with him, although the softness of him and heat radiating from his skin could give anyone other ideas fairly easily. 

As you stroll along the paths back to the palace, Oberyn starts giving you a knowledgeable lecture on the history of the Water Gardens. Telling you how they were constructed by his ancestors hundreds of years before, an oasis in the desert island's landscape that acted as a respite for the inhabitants of Dorne, providing water and fruits and how the city of Sunspear was built up around it. 

“I think the most important thing my ancestors ever did was move from New Jersey,” you joke, giving one more look to the gardens before letting the prince draw you inside the cool walls of the palace. “Except Lily, of course. Her research is extraordinary.”

"And you?" Oberyn asks, turning. his head to the side to glance at your profile. "What mark do you wish to leave on the world?"

“You mean do I want to be a celebrity chef with a tv show, four cookbooks, and a reservation book packed full for a year in an advance?” The idea makes you laugh a little, but mostly out of self-consciousness in the moment. You would love those things, but if they never happened it wouldn’t be the end of your world. They’re difficult goals to achieve and require connections - connections you just don’t have. “I want people to have good memories. An important conversation had over a meal they’ll never forget. Wedding guests who still talk about the hors d’oeuvres for years afterward. A dish of pasta that transports you to Sicily from your seat.” You offer him a smile that is completely unguarded. “If somebody wanted to make me famous because they loved my food so much? That would be a very good memory.”

Oberyn hums, absorbing your desires and analyzing them. "You like to please people." He observes. "You are a nurturer even though you don't think yourself one. Give them what they need even if they don't realize it."

“Everyone needs to eat.” You raise an eyebrow at him as he steers you toward an elaborate grand staircase. “Food should sustain and inspire. Like you say: you should never limit pleasure. I just apply that philosophy to my food.”

"Too bad you do not apply that to everything in your life." Oberyn muses, as he starts up the stairs with you. "Food and fucking go hand in hand, can be very pleasurable together."

“You sound like my sister.” And it makes you laugh despite yourself. “Lily is my biggest cheerleader, but she’s also the biggest nudge in my life.” Well, maybe that title is actually your mother’s, but isn’t that every mother’s right?

"I am a father to eight daughters." Oberyn chuckles. "I am sure some of their impetuousness has rubbed off on me."

“Eight?” Stopping dead in your tracks at the high number, you manage to recover just a second later and pick your jaw up off the marble floor, but it’s too late to hide that reaction. “Sorry, I just…um, that’s a lot. And you definitely don’t look old enough to have that many kids.”

Oberyn agrees with you, at least on eight children being a lot. "I fathered the first when I was 14." He explains. "Indiscretions of youth. Though I counsel my girls to use caution. Eight children, four mothers." A flash of melancholy races across his face. "The youngest girls’ mother and I parted ways two years ago. Amicably, of course, however I miss the sounds of them racing through the halls year-round. The older girls are at school." 

“I hadn’t even had my first kiss at fourteen.” You try not to stare but that is an incredibly young age to become a parent for the first time - and yet also somehow the fact that he clearly cares for all of them and their mothers is making him that much more attractive to you? That has to be the ticking biological clock… “I’m…I’m sorry you split up, though. Break ups are hard. Even harder when kids are involved.” 

Oberyn looks over at you with a small nod. "Ellaria and I were good together, but better as friends." He tells you. "We love one another, that will never change, but our paths are different, and we must follow them. Our children will never suffer because we no longer share a bedroom." 

“Do you get to see them?” You ask quietly, not really paying attention to the halls or rooms you pass by as he leads you deeper into the palace.

"As often as I wish." Oberyn smiles. "Aja and Lily wished for a child-free wedding and so they are with their mother, they will be back at the palace in three days’ time. You will be able to meet them then if you wish." He chuckles. "It's just that a father wishes to never have his children sleep under another roof, even boarding schools.”

“Is that where the older ones are? Boarding school?” Lily and Aja choosing to have an adults-only event is something you know Lily has struggled with so you don’t pursue that part of the conversation. Your sister’s inability to conceive children and the way she struggled with it until Aja came along and reminded her that motherhood is not equal to womanhood (despite what your parents say), is a journey all her own.

"Obara, the oldest, is in college." He boasts proudly, puffing his chest out slightly. "Final year, she's graduating a year earlier than her classmates. The other three are in a preparatory school in Switzerland and the youngest three are living with their mother in a house three kilometers from here.” 

Four children with one woman and they only just split up? Yeah…you would be naked by the pool with a fuck buddy too, if you were him. “You’re very proud of them.” Is the observation you make out loud, not wanting to insert your foot into your mouth at all. “That’s wonderful.”

"They are my children." Oberyn tells you simply, guiding you down the hall towards the large suite that has been his since he was a young man. Set up as a family apartment, it is a complete house with a kitchen and family area designed in the middle of the bedrooms to house his large brood when they are at the palace. "I am proud of them no matter what they choose in life."

“Then you’re not just proud, but also a good father.” And you don’t know why exactly you hadn’t been sure of that before now, but here it is in front of you. 

Physically in front of you is an enormous apartment that seems to go on forever, and though everything is opulent it seems also to be built for comfort. Even though it’s clean there is evidence of his kids everywhere - from toys to cabinets full of movies and games to the photos hanging on his walls. One in particular is set at center stage, and the reason why is immediately obvious. It is a party, with balloons in various colors bearing what you suppose was his age at the time, 35, and presents and a cake in the background even though you can tell this photograph was taken in the Water Gardens as you wander closer to it. Oberyn stands in the middle of a veritable army of girls who are all decked out with flowers in their hair and beaming smiles. The youngest - still a baby here, is asleep in his arms. “They’re beautiful.” You hum, feeling drawn in by the photo instead of like an observer. The young woman to Oberyn’s left is mid-laugh and clinging to his other arm. “Is that Obara? She looks exactly like you.”

Oberyn gazes at the photo with a soft smile on his face. "That is Obara." He chuckles and gestures towards the photo. "My little sand snakes. Nicknamed so because they are always slithering about and getting into mischief as children should." He points out each individual girl. "Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, Elia, Obella, Dorea, and the baby is Loreza."

That internal tug somewhere deep behind your heart pulls at you and makes you look away, forcing down the way so many beautiful smiling faces make you melancholy for being without a family of your own. You had made the choice that your career came first and now you were living with that - no use getting upset about it now. “So,” you drain the last sip of your drink from the glass in your hand and make yourself smile. “I think you were going to let me cook for you?”

"Yes." Oberyn's eyes light up with giddy anticipation and he steers you towards his personal kitchen. "Your sister has raved over your skills in the kitchen." He keeps the fridge stocked and wonders what you will chose to make for him with what is on hand. "Make yourself comfortable and use whatever you wish."

“I started cooking to take care of me and Lils after school because our parents always worked long hours. So the first things I learned were her favourite foods.” The watch on your wrist reads just after one in the afternoon and the cocktail party isn’t for hours, so you’re racking your brain for lunch ideas when you walk into the large kitchen just a step behind him. There’s a small gasp on your lips - you were expecting it to be nice but not for him to have a Viking stove and marble counter tops with sleek, shiny stainless-steel appliances tucked into every corner like an Easter egg hunt. This is the sexiest private kitchen you’ve ever seen and you get to cook in it. “Okay.” You’re like a kid in a candy store as you start to poke through his cupboards, looking to see what sort of things he usually eats to figure out what classics of your repertoire he might like.

He doesn't leave you to get acquainted with his kitchen, instead he opens the fridge to grab a bowl of grapes, grinning like a schoolboy as he hops up on the counter and watches you with unabashed curiosity.

The idea forms when you notice a jar of estratto di pomodoro and another of pine nuts in his cupboard. Gathering those two things along with a container of golden raisins, you poke around for a box of dry pasta but see a large container of semolina flour instead. Fresh pasta it is, you think with a smirk as you gather that and the pasta roller sitting next to it, as well. He’s going to get one of your favourite meals of all time, and he doesn’t even know it yet. “Do you have a special place to keep bread in?” You ask him, already making your way to the refrigerator to see if you really can fill this meal out the way you always make it for yourself. Pasta c'anciuova e muddica atturrata is always best, in your opinion, with some kind of fish.

"There is a bread box in the pantry." Oberyn tells you before he pops a few grapes in his mouth, looking at the ingredients that you are piling onto the island counter. "The cabinet next to the fridge is actually a pantry."

“This?” The door handle you have your hand on gives easily when he nods, and you set your armload from the cupboards down on the counter beside him to peak in - expecting a small, well-concealed pantry of basics. What you’re faced with, though, is a walk-in closet for gourmet foods, opposite a wall of neatly stacked and organized wine bottles. On the shelf by your head is a tool you drool over in the restaurant - a bit of genius in the form of a product that allows for a glass of wine to be poured from a bottle without removing or compromising the cork. The bottle is effectively unopened and lasts considerably longer even though it has been poured from. It’s like paradise in a kitchen pantry, and you snag the Coravin tool and a bottle of Tuscan wine you recognize along with a full container marked Fresh Breadcrumbs. Bellinis are delicious, but the wine will go much better with this small meal you’re now even more excited to cook. “Your chef must love this set up,” you remark in wonder when you emerge.

"Chef?" Oberyn narrows his eyes slightly in confusions as he cocks his head. "The palace chef, you mean?" He gives a small shrug. "He has never been in my kitchen. This is my private space for cooking meals for family and lovers." 

“This is all for you? Seems like being royalty has benefits after all.” You shake your head at the thought and put the other pantry supplies down on his counter venue moving to the refrigerator. After a quick survey you nearly cheer in victory, coming out with a few large sardines, half a lemon, and a bundle of fresh Italian parsley. Combining all of this with the olive oil, onions, and garlic you saw on the counter will make a masterpiece. “Are you sure it’s okay to use all this?”

Oberyn waves his hand dismissively, "use whatever you wish." He tells you, hopping down off the counter and walking around you. The comment about royalty irked him and he would rather not get into a spat with the maid of honor before the wedding. Choosing to give you the space for a moment before he lets his famously short temper get the best of him. "Excuse me, I have a small matter than I need to address.

“Sure.” His tone changed, and you’re not sure you like it - wondering for a moment if you really were going too far out this was all to placate you. No. Stop overthinking. Just do your thing. You tell yourself, setting to work on your aromatics.

Striding into his bedroom, he unties the sarong and flings it into the laundry before he walks into the en-suite to shower off the pool water and remaining traces of his lover. He tries to remind himself as he showers, that most Americans were judgmental and set in their viewpoints. Not all were as free spirited as your sister and it seems that you might just be one of those people, although for some reason, it was disappointing. Lily had talked about you so much that Oberyn had looked forward to meeting the older sister and now he wasn't quite sure what to do with you. Dressing in stylish, yet comfortable clothes - white linen pants and a shirt that is burnt orange with the suns of Dorne designed on it, he makes his way back to the kitchen.

******

Somewhere around the time your pasta dough started to come together, your thoughts did too, and you had audibly groaned at yourself. Open mouth, insert foot. Another reason you couldn’t keep a man, according to your mother. “I’m sorry.” Your head pops up from wrapping the dough to set aside when he walks back in, and you nearly blurt it out at him. “I didn’t mean to be rude. What I was trying to say is that if this was an alternate universe and I was royalty, this would be my favorite part about living in a palace. But only because I would be garbage at running a country.” You huff at yourself slightly. “Clearly. I can’t go ten minutes without accidentally insulting my host.”

His eyebrow wings up at your apology and he studies you for a moment. "It is okay, Iris." He reassures you. "I did not wish to treat you to the barbed edge of my tongue, so I decided that I would shower and put on clothes so you would not take us all for hedonistic barbarians."

“You’re not. A barbaric person is someone who is uncivilized. Right now that’s definitely me, not you, so I apologize.” He can think whatever he wants of you - correct or incorrect - and it won’t matter past this week. But Lily and Aja are moving back to Dorne soon and you would hate for a bad opinion of you to reflect on your angel of a little sister. 

It takes an adult to apologize for the missteps that have occurred, but he admires you for it. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable." Oberyn tells you. "I fear that when I see a gorgeous woman, or man, especially one that I have heard so many wonderful things about, I tend to be too forward." He gives a small smile. "However, your disinterest is noted so do not fear that you will be accosted all week."

Did he just — gorgeous? Seriously? It takes everything in you to not spontaneously combust at that, but only a second later you register a flash of disappointment that you hadn’t anticipated. It’s not that you wouldn’t be interested, but it’s not worth it. It would be like the time a one-night stand you picked up at the bar had turned out to be the new dishwasher at the restaurant: intensely awkward and not worth the memories. That was seven years ago, and you hadn’t had a one-nighter since. “I just…” Your hands work automatically, cleaning up after the pasta making and finding a knife and board to fillet the fish. You don’t even know why you’re telling him all this, except maybe that now you’re oversharing so he won’t think you’re being judgmental again. “I’m not great at communicating, as you have probably noticed. And a little vacation fling is…they’re great for some people. But that’s a whole lot of opening up to someone very quickly and I’m not any good at that. It has nothing to do with you.”

"That's the beauty of it, no?" He asks, picking up the glass that had been left out from his drink and taking it over to the sink. "You get to be whoever you want the other person to see. "Bold, adventurous, fearless." He hums as he starts washing it for the staff to take back to the main kitchens and reaches for your glass as well. "Everything you want but are unable to maintain in your day to day."

Fearless. The notion seems insane to you, mostly because you’re a fairly cautious person. The only time you have any sort of adventure is with your food. “That’s who I am when I cook.” You tell him, deciding to be honest. “Lovers have expectations. Ingredients don’t.”

"Yes, they do." Oberyn argues with you, holding up the bulb of garlic that you haven't used. "This garlic expects you to use it properly. Aromatics expect to be used to enhance a dish and not burn them to make them acrid." He puts it down. "If your lovers are expecting things beyond what they can give you, then you have been choosing bad lovers. The point of being a lover is accepting what they give you and what you want to give to them." He has already accepted that you are not going to sleep with him, but if he can make you look at love differently, perhaps your next lover would benefit.

“If that’s true, then I’ve just never picked the right person.” There’s a melancholy in your voice that you can’t banish fast enough, and you glance at the contemplative expression on Oberyn’s face briefly before setting aside the two perfectly fileted sardines to wash your hands again. “Maybe I’ll just be a spinster. That would thrill my parents.”

"Fuck your parents." Oberyn huffs, shrugging his shoulders. He had not been impressed with the notion that Lily was supposed to give them a grandchild and the bitterness when they learned that she couldn't. "Live your life how you see fit and make no apologies." He lifts a finger. "However, live a life that on your deathbed, you have few regrets." 

A life of regrets is something you were trying to avoid when you left four-year college for culinary school and spent years learning your craft, but you had ended up with others along the way. That was inevitable in life, you supposed, but it still stung. “I can see why raja thinks the world of you,” you tell him, picking up the garlic he had been brandishing at you earlier. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have such a supportive family.”

"No, I guess not." Oberyn understands that he is very lucky to live in a place where he is afforded to live how he wishes. "However, your sister is becoming family, so in a distant - we can still sleep together kind of way - you are family." He can't help but tease you just a bit more, especially since he knows you are aware he will not push you. Giving you a playful wink and smirk when you look at him.

“My sister-in-law’s uncle?” You have to laugh at that, shaking your head as you carefully dice the garlic. “No, I guess that’s not anything official, is it?”

"No, it's not." Oberyn moves over to the fridge and starts to pull out ingredients to whip up one of his favorite simple desserts. He wants you to try something of his.

“Have a sudden inspiration?” It happens to you all the time - you start out cooking one thing and end up with ideas for a week. Even fully clothed he moves like a dance, and you have to wonder briefly if turning him down will turn out to be one of those deathbed regrets you’re sure to have. 

"Making a dessert that will pair nicely with the ingredients you are using." Oberyn tells you with a smirk as he walks into the pantry and comes out with a bottle of Limoncello.

“It’s a good thing we’re hours away from eating again, because this is turning into a whole meal.” This is the only area - besides being your sister’s number one fan - where your enthusiasm tends to run amok. You really are making him an entire lunch, even if it’s delicious peasant food.

"You will be asking me for this recipe." Oberyn tells you smugly, knowing that it will whet your palate and make you moan at the silky smoothness of it.

“Oh, will I?” You narrow your eyes at him, pride and playfulness in your own abilities blooming to the surface. “Are you willing to bet on that?” It’s something you do with the other line cooks at the restaurant all the time and you don’t even think about it before the words are out of your mouth.

A sly grin crosses his face, sensing your competitiveness coming to the surface. "Absolutely." He hums, setting the bottle down and leaning against the counter. "What are your terms if you don't?" He asks, wanting to know your prize if you are not impressed with his dessert.

You bite the inside of your lip, considering several possibilities with amusement while you clean and slice an onion. “You have to spend a day showing me around Sunspear wearing the absolute worst outfit I can possibly pick out for you.” It’s nothing humiliating or humbling, just silly and an offering of friendship. A story to tell. A memory to hold. But you will definitely take a picture of this stylish man in a terrible outfit.

"Agreed." There are worse wagers for a bet, and he smirks. "If you want the recipe...I get to kiss you." He challenges, lifting a brow at you to see if you will refuse.

You all but roll your eyes at him, seeing the good-natured angle in it but knowing that all you have to do is not ask for his recipe and it will float away again. “Deal.” With your hands outstretched to him, you are more than prepared to let a friendship blossom. For Lily’s sake, of course. And not at all because you just snuck a peak at his soft, seemingly perfect lips through his smirk. Nope. Not at all.

“Fantastic.” Oberyn takes your hand and shakes it firmly before he brings it up to kiss the back of it again. “Prepare to be amazed.” He warns you playfully. He lets go of your hand and starts pulling out mixing bowls and the tools he needs, completely familiar with his kitchen and where everything is. Showing you that he does in fact cook.

There’s a sense of calm as you work side by side, absorbed in what you are doing but not ever ignoring each other. Oberyn tells you stories about Aja as a girl - she is good friends with some of his daughters, apparently - and you trade him for stories of Lily from growing up. Sometimes he’ll ask about an ingredient you have out on the counter, but mostly he just watches curiously and you sneak peaks his way when you think he’s not looking.

Limoncello mousse is a simple, yet incredible dessert. Needing only a few ingredients to be delicious and tart. The perfect ending to a savory meal. He whips the egg whites until they are frothy and foamy before he mixes it into the mascarpone and limoncello mixture. Dividing it into four ramakins to set inside his blast chiller to set in time to eat.

The time flies - it always does when you’re enjoying yourself like this - and before long you’re scooping curly busiate noodles out of their water and into the gorgeous red sauce composed of anchovies, estratto, onions, garlic, and breadcrumbs and adding more breadcrumbs long with toasted pine nuts and golden raisins. The sardine fillets have been sautéed in olive oil and lemon juice and dressed with parsley, and lunch is about to be served. “Would you pour the wine?” You ask him, fully absorbed in bringing the pasta dish together. Its salty, sweet, savory, unctuous goodness is your favorite meal in the world Aster the first time you had it in Sicily and you can’t wait for him to try it.

“Already done, Iris.” Oberyn motions over to the table he had set while you had been absorbed in the finishing the exquisite smelling dish you were serving him. He had quietly placed two setting and poured glasses of wine for the two of you. The mousse was still setting up and would stay in the chiller until it was time to eat them. He had even come along and taken the discarded tools and washed them, leaving just the final pans to be cleaned.

“Sorry — I mean…thanks.” Shrugging at him slightly, you bring the big pan over to the two plates you’ve been fixing and dole out the pasta. “You’re three steps ahead of me while I was in my own little world.”

“It was interesting to watch you work.” Oberyn tells you. “You have a habit of sticking your tongue out while you work. I wonder how many times a colleague has put a lemon on it.”

“Not very often.” You set the plates down in the two places he set at the long table under the windows on the far side of the kitchen. It must be big enough for all his girls and their mothers to sit down together, because it is huge - making your two little settings at the end look slightly comical. “Chef still does it from time to time. Which is better than when he first hired me, and it was whatever random ingredient was nearby that he ended up accosting me with.”

Snorting in amusement, he pulls out your chair for you sit down, motioning to it when you just stare at him for a second.

Right. Just because no one’s ever done this for you before doesn’t mean no one ever does it anywhere. You thank him quietly and sit, happy to see that he doesn’t stand in ceremony and takes a sip from his wine as soon as he sits beside you. The smooth, warm red is familiar and comforting on your palette, relaxing you another step down the ladder of what anxieties you had feared from this day.

"Salute." He murmurs before looking down at the plate of delicious looking pasta in front of him. "So what are we having this afternoon, chef?" He asks, looking back up at you with a pleased expression.

“Pasta c'anciuova e muddica atturrata, and the sardines are sautéed with olive oil then dressed with lemon juice and parsley.” Even saying it out loud makes you sigh a little with wistful happiness. “Normally I’ll do whatever fish is on sale at the market, but you had fresh sardines. And that’s…pretty perfect.”

"It smells delicious." Oberyn compliments you honestly and picks up his fork to twirl up a bite of the pasta, making sure to get some of the sardine in the bite. You are watching as he puts the fork in his mouth, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he practically moans when the flavors hit his tastebuds.

“Definitely a better memory than the first boy I ever loved.” Snorting slightly, you shake your head and dig into your own lunch with a nostalgic smile. Food evokes those good memories for you where most people don’t, but you figure the prince is more people-oriented in his own life.

"I am sorry." Oberyn reaches out and touches your arm gently. "A first love is supposed to be a sweet memory. A last love is supposed to be all consuming." He murmurs softly.

“I hope that’s true for most people.” It’s not biting, or sarcastic, or even melancholy - just honest - as you gently touch his hand with yours to acknowledge the softness of the gesture. “I’ll say the love of my life is my food, and merrily leave true love to Lily and Aja.”

"Never count yourself short." Oberyn advises you with a wink as he pulls his hand away and pick up his fork. "You deserve someone to lavish praise on your cooking daily."

“You like it?” The relief you feel is a bit of a surprise, but then again, any time you put your food in front of someone you’re bearing your soul to them for as long as that meal lasts. It’s not so odd to want someone to like your favorite thing. Right?

"It's possibly the best Pasta c'anciuova e muddica atturrata I've ever had." He praises as he forks up another bite of the pasta and sighs happily. "You are extremely talented, and I see why your sister thinks you should open your own restaurant."

“Thank you.” The heat just under your skin is definitely from the compliment rather than the wine, but you still shrug your shoulders a little. “Restaurants are expensive. It’s definitely the dream, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to manage it.”

Oberyn snorts, shaking his head at your lack of business prowess. “My dear Iris, you are becoming family to royalty by way of marriage.” He reminds you. “Use it.” He urges you. “No one gets ahead in this world without contacts, and you have miraculously developed very useful ones.”

You shake your head at him, nearly laughing at how outlandish his suggestion is. You would never be so presumptuous as to ask Aja’s family for money, but an old tease of your sister’s does cross your mind. “Lily used to say that anybody who was ever serious about wanting to marry me should buy me a restaurant instead of a ring.”

Oberyn chuckles and nods down to his plate. “If this is how you cook everything, I believe it.” He takes another sip of his wine and attacks the rest of the pasta with a gusto that wound have you believing he was starved.

By the time both of your plates are clean you’ve been sitting in companionable silence for quite a while, and it says quite a lot for you that it hasn’t felt awkward. Normally silence is something that irks you with another person, but the prince’s presence has yet to hit that nerve with you. A very good thing, considering you’ll be with him at the party tonight and wedding tomorrow, at the bare minimum.

“Now.” Oberyn stands and walks over to collect your plate. “On to our bet.” He teases with a wink, whisking away the dirty dishes to pile next to the sink so he can remove the delicate mousse desserts from the chiller. He fills sniffers with a shot of cool limoncello to accompany it and brings everything over to serve you first and then himself.

“The moment of truth.” You joke, picking up your spoon and cutting through the creamy mousse like butter. With ripe berries and fluffy, fresh whipped cream (that you absolutely did not watch him make, nope, not even a single glance at those biceps at work) it looks as pretty as any picture. “Salut.” Your first taste is…well, it’s nearly impossible to react, and you barely catch your eyes as they start to flutter closed at the burst of bright lemon and gentle, bubbly texture of the mousse. The prince’s dessert is exquisite and after the second spoonful you’re borderline annoyed with yourself for making this bet. This is without a doubt the best mousse you’ve ever had in your life - but hell if you’re going to say as much. “It’s good,” you manage to nod casually while you’re practically weeping happy tears on the inside.

“Mhm.” Oberyn looks at you doubtfully, not impressed with your reaction and for a moment doubts himself. He spoons up some of the mousse to make sure it set properly and gives a groan of satisfaction.

Two bites later, with a little bit of the whipped cream and a slice of strawberry in your mouth, you break down and just sit with your eyes closed for a long moment. He could probably make a career as a pastry chef based on this one little ramekin alone, and when you open your eyes, you exhale a little and take another bite. It’s good. If good suddenly means genius.

He has to give it to you; you are fighting the temptation with everything you have. But he hasn’t missed the little sighs, or the moment where you look like you are in blissful contemplation of life. He smirks to himself, spooning up another bite and is pleased with your enjoyment of his dessert. Even if you don’t ask him for the recipe, he will count it as a success.

Your little dish is clean so quickly that you have to stop yourself from literally licking the ramekin, and the sheepish look on your face is as much defeat as anything else. “I—” You bury half of your face in one hand and huff. “I have to have that recipe. That’s the most amazing mousse I’ve ever had…”

Oberyn grins, knowing how much the admission cost you. “Of course, you can have the recipe.” He assures you with a wink. “There is another ramekin in the chiller if you want more. Or we can save it for another time.”

That drawn expression of embarrassment on your face turns to eagerness, and you choose to be amused by his laughter behind you as you get up to cross the kitchen to get the other ramekin out of the blast chiller. “Do you want the last one?” You ask, seeing that he made four in total.

“I am a greedy man, Iris. Of course, I want the last one.” He muses. “Will make more for you to have before you leave Dorne.” He promises.

“And your prize?” A warmth floods through you as you set the second set of ramekins down at your places and sit down again. A bet is a bet, and he won fair and square. It doesn’t matter that you feel like a fumbling teenager at the prospect of actually having him kiss you.

Oberyn stares at you for a moment, watching you squirm slightly, and he almost lets you off the hook. There’s a hesitancy to the way you fumble with your spoon that makes him think you aren’t quite opposed to kissing him. “My prize will be secured…when you least suspect it.” He teases lightly.

“Of course it will.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics but have to admit to yourself that the anticipation coils in your chest more readily than you anticipated. “Well, that’s fair. You earned the win.” Which is made abundantly obvious when you dig your spoon into your second ramekin.

“As long as you enjoy it, my victory is sweet.” Oberyn scoops up the last bite of his first dessert. “I can assure you that this is also delightful being licked off a lover’s skin.”

That announcement nearly makes you choke, but you manage to keep it together long enough to simply tilt your head at him and smirk. “I’ll bear that in mind,” you tell him, knowing it will never make a damn bit of difference to your dry spell.

He grins at you and nods, admiring the smirk on your face and the way that you are slowly becoming used to his sense of humor. “Do.” He hums as he scoops up some of the new mousse. “Food play is highly underrated.”

“Is Selvin a fan?” It’s a little bit of a smart-ass question, but after attacking your second serving of mousse you’re feeling positively indulgent.

“You could always join us and discover that for yourself.” Oberyn offers. “Selvin is…very amenable.”

“I think that goes a little beyond a kiss.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“We never specifically said where I would kiss you.” He teases. “They say that cunnilingus is French kissing a pussy.”

“I thought it was an Australian kiss.” The eyebrow that was raised at him now waggles in amusement. “Because it’s a kiss down under.”

His laugh is loud, full bellied and completely spontaneous. You caught him off guard with that comeback and he points his spoon at you. “I’ll have to use that next time.” He warns.

“Heard that from an Australian girl backpacking through Italy while I was living in Bologna.” His laugh is absolutely gorgeously and for a moment you wish you could just bottle it up and listen to it on your bad days. “She would probably love to know that her pick up line has survived.”

“You should look her up and thank her.” Oberyn tells you. “After this, we can get you settled in your rooms to get ready for the party. And I will create an itinerary for your personalized tour through Dorne.”

“But you won the bet?” You look at him curiously, second ramekin of mousse already almost destroyed. “You don’t have to take me around. It’s okay.”

“But I do.” Oberyn insists. “Because I am going to be begging for your recipe as well.”

“You don’t have to beg for that.” Nope. Don’t think about what he would sound like if he did beg. Real people don’t do that. That’s just in porn. DON’T think about him doing porn! You practically exhaust yourself on that particular inner monologue but manage to stay smiling. “It’s very nice of you to be so willing. Thank you.”

“Maybe I like to beg.” He hums, knowing full well he doesn’t but he caught the flash of heat in your eyes. There is something that he is enjoying immensely in your banter and he wants it to continue.

“I doubt that.” You doubt it very intensely, but that might be projection since you’ve never met a man who did. “But I also get the impression that you’ll try anything once.”

“Almost anything and everything.” He lifts a finger. “Except sounding.” He says seriously. “Fuck that.”

“Sounding?” That’s a term you’re not familiar with, and the second the question is out of your mouth you realize that you’re showing your inexperience again. At least, inexperience compared to him.

Oberyn gives slight look of discomfort. “Also called cock-stuffing. Where a metal rod is inserted into the urethra. I’d rather have my balls kicked repeatedly.”

“Jesus.” You cringe and recoil, almost feeling a phantom pain in his behalf. “That sounds terrible!”

“Pain is pleasure is taken a bit too far with that in my opinion. Spanking, sure. Orgasm denial, okay. But there are some things that should never be in the bedroom.” Oberyn huffs. “All my lovers must enjoy themselves.”

You’re about to open your mouth to agree that enjoyment is a must, when you hear a happy shriek from across the room that you would recognize even in your sleep. “You’re here!” Lily practically pounces in you, hugging you tightly and squeezing even tighter. Aja was behind her in the doorway and is slower to approach, but no less joyful. “She’s here, and my dear uncle is talking about orgasm denial.” Aja laughs, her sultry, husky voice ringing through the room. “Oberyn, you promised you would go easy on her.”

Turning, he gives his favorite (it doesn’t matter that she is his only) niece a grin as he stands to sweep her into a hug. “I am going easy on her. She’s already seen me naked and yet I haven’t taken her to bed.”

“But you let her cook for you?” Lily eyes the table suspiciously. Even though the kitchen is mostly clean, there is evidence of the meal that you and Oberyn shared. “That’s pretty much her version of foreplay.”

“I crafted dessert, so it was a joint effort.” He jokes, kissing Aja’s head before he moves over to Lily. “How are my favorite brides?” He hums as he wraps his arms around your sister.

“The singer of the band we hired is ill.” Aja reports with a frown. “He sang our song perfectly and now it will be passed off to someone else without that same talent.”

“What can I do to fix it?” Oberyn straightens, immediately dropping the easy-going air and adopting one of authority. “Do you have a backup ideal singer?”

It’s subtle, but Lily’s eyes float very slowly from Aja over to you, and the well-abused expression of a small puppy begging for love comes over her face. “I only know one other person who sings Someone to Watch Over Me as perfectly…”

The urge to fix the issue shifts slightly into curiosity, watching Lily turn on the doe eyes and beg you silently. Apparently, you were the best fit for the job and he was interested in seeing if you would do it.

“Lils, I haven’t—” You start to protest that you haven’t sung in public in years. That you’re not a professional. That there had to be somebody in Dorne who is a better singer than you. But this is your sister, and it’s her wedding, and you’ve never really been one to deny Lily anything in the first place. “Okay.” With a nod of your head, the second unusual bargain you’ve struck today is solidified. And this one is much more nerve wracking than the other. “But just the one song, okay? Otherwise I’m gonna get stage fright and I don’t want to ruin your reception.”

Oberyn hums in approval that you would be willing to do this for your sister. “Do we need to secure another band for other songs?” He asks the couple.

Lily has launched herself at you, hugging you and squealing with gleeful gratitude, and Aja breathes a sigh of relief. “No, uncle,” she knows that Oberyn would walk straight into a club in Sunspear and walk out with an entire new band for them, but that isn’t necessary. “The rest of it will be fine with the band’s other singer. We just wanted our first dance to be something special.” Aja reaches and clasps her hand over Oberyn’s shoulder. “Have you two been getting along?”

“She has not run away screaming or slapped me on the face.” Oberyn jokes, winking at you. “So I believe we are good.”

“Not yet.” You snort, shaking your head at him even while you hug Lily fiercely, asking her quietly. “When are mom and dad getting in?”

“Right before the cocktail hour.” Lily rolls her eyes slightly. “I love them, but I don’t want to hear too much.”

“It’s your wedding. They can behave themselves.” Mostly they’ll probably behave because they’ll intimidated onto it by being surrounded by royalty - but if that’s what it takes, that’s fine. “You just have to survive a few days and then you’re off on your fabulous globe-trotting honeymoon. Everything is going to be great.”

“Are you sure you want to stay after we are gone?” Lily asks, searching your face for any hesitation. “You have been invited to stay for the entire week, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Hey, stop worrying about me.” Both of your hands soothe over her back and you nod your head at the prince. “Aja’s uncle very graciously offered to show me around Dorne this week, and I’m definitely not giving up my private tour guide on what is possibly the only trip out here I’ll ever get.”

Oberyn smirks and wraps his hands around your shoulders and leans against your back to look at Lily. “Your sister is in my very capable hands. I will make sure she is well cared for.”

“Suddenly I am less worried about your parents’ behaviors than my family.” Aja jokes, looking at Oberyn with nothing but amusement.

Oberyn rolls his eyes and huffs. “When have I ever misbehaved when it’s important?” He asks petulantly.

“Thank you, uncle.” Aja knows she can trust him when it matters most, but she also knows that there is a good chance he will see your combined stubbornness and beauty as a challenge. And Oberyn never backs down from a challenge. “My love, we should check on the Gardens and get changed for the party.”

“Go with your sister.” Oberyn encourages you. “I will clean up here and see the three of you gorgeous ladies at the party.”

“Thank you for a very interesting lunch.” You offer him a wry smile before stepping out of his grip and following Lily and Aja out of the room.

Lily and Aja smirk at you as they walk towards the stairs. “Soooooo.” Aja coos. “What happened? I know something must have happened.”

“You could have warned me,” you grumble at both of them as they guide you down the winding hallways. “When I got here he was out by the pool.” Pause for dramatic effect. “With his lover.” Pause again. “And they were both completely naked.”

“Ohhhh, so you met Selvin.” Aja giggles. “His kids are not here.” She shoots you an apologetic look. “Sorry. Selvin showed up last night and wanted to stay.”

“We had a nice chat.” Only after you had been fairly rude, but that was water under the bridge now. “And then we made lunch together. It was all a very nice time.” Nice. Yes. You’ll stick with that, and not elaborate on the way he makes you feel tingling when he gets too close, or on the bet that you made.

“He’s nice but he’s just a passing fling.” Aja hums. “Oberyn is still insisting he’s not ready for more, but I know he is.”

“I’m sure he’ll find it soon enough.” You don’t doubt that for a second, not with plenty of looks and charm and the good amount of kindness you saw in him. The money and title probably didn’t hurt either.

“Hmmm.” Aja hums but doesn’t comment as the three of you descend down the stairs. “And you were not impressed when you saw him naked? I’m his niece - and a lesbian - but even I have to say that he is gorgeously built.”

“Here we go.” Rounding on them slightly at the end of the hall, you have to look up to see into Aja’s face but it doesn’t make your gaze any less suspicious. “Was it you two who put this vacation fling idea into his head?”

Lily doesn’t even look ashamed. “You need to get laid.” She huffs. “Oberyn is a good man, generous to his lovers and not bad on the eyes. If I didn’t only like pussy….” She grins and her fiancée huffs, shoving her arm slightly but grinning. “We didn’t put the idea in his head, but we did talk about you a lot.” Aja explains. “So he would feel like he knew you.”

“Lils, you know I don’t do flings anymore.” The impulse to drag your well-meaning sister into your arms and dig your fist into her scalp in an old fashioned noogie is very strong, but you just huff affectionately. “He’s a very nice man and if I leave here having made a new friend, I’ll be glad about it. Okay?” They should be focusing on each other - on their wedding day - not on your lack of a sex life. You’ll be dry for years to come - but they’ll only get married once.

Lily rolls her eyes. “Jesus, sis, live a little.” She groans. “You have one life and don’t you want to be able to say you banged a hot prince? The royal creampie? Anointed baby juice graced your womb? Even if it’s not going to take?”

“God, Lily!” You can feel all the blood drain from your face as you bury it in both of your hands - mortified and glad that no one is around to hear her say that out loud. It’s not like you’re immune to the idea obviously, but you put rules in place for yourself for a reason. The wall you built around your heart is there for a reason. “Please never say the words ‘anointed baby juice’ again.” Focusing on a joke is the best thing you can do right now to try to banish the creampie visual from your mind.

She snickers and Aja hides her own grin behind her hand. Your sister’s fiancée cannot resist teasing you a bit more. “How about a royal pearl necklace?” She cackles.

“You two can find another wedding singer if you keep it up.” The threat is completely empty, but you still waggle a finger at them in your best imitation of your mother.

“You wouldn’t do that.” Lily tells you with confidence.

“No. I love you too much.” Of course you wouldn’t. That isn’t the point. The point is that they meddled and now you feel like an idiot for momentarily thinking that the prince might have actually flirted or complimented you of his own accord. “Come on, you two. Aja said you needed to check the Gardens.”

“Oberyn never does what anyone says.” Aja observes, as she wraps her arm around Lily’s waist. “So for him to plan your trip with a tour is very surprising. He must really like you.”

“We had time to talk.” The three of you move slowly in the direction of the Gardens once more. “You keep saying that.” Lily looks over at you from Aja’s arms. “And that Oberyn is nice. It’s like you want me to obnoxiously prod at you for information.” She giggles evilly. “What, did you already fuck or something, and all this avoidance is a show?” The glare you shoot her says absolutely not and she giggles again. “I had to ask. It’s not like you didn’t have plenty of time.”

Lily shakes her head. “If she fucked Oberyn, the stick would have been pulled out of her ass.” She tells the woman who will be her wife in a day. “My sister hasn’t gotten laid since we’ve been together.”

“Say it a little louder, Lils, I don’t think the entire palace heard you.” You grumble, shoving your hands into your pockets like a wounded child. The teasing has reached an edge that you don’t like, and it’s making you anxious to the point of actually becoming upset. “I don’t need to get laid and I don’t need a relationship. I’m married to my food. End of story.” It doesn’t matter how much you want those things - you’re unlovable. At least, that’s what everyone you’ve ever tried to give yourself to has told you when they handed your heart back without a second thought.

“Okayyyyyyy.” Lily reaches over and gives you a quick hug, seeing how upset you are getting. “I’m sorry. We won’t tease you anymore.” She promises. “I just worry about you, big sis.”

“Just promise me you’ll find a nice nursing home to dump me in when I’m old and senile and can’t take care of my thirty cats anymore.” Hugging her back is easy, and you’re sorry you snapped, but things will only get worse if she’s still teasing you when your parents arrive. “I’ll be okay, kid. I promise.”

"Cat friendly nursing home." Lily giggles. "Got it." The three of you step into the inner portion of the Water Gardens and Lily sighs happily at the transformation.

“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe, glad to see the transformation as dusk approaches and also surprised that the entire change happened so quickly. You had been out here with Oberyn just a few hours ago and now it’s like a fairy garden. “It’s like every storybook you ever wished you could live inside,” you grin back at Lily happily.

"They are working hard to make sure everything is perfect." Lily tells you. "We even have a small memorial planned for loved ones that have passed." It was important for Aja, since her mother was no longer with them. Elia Martell Targaryen had passed away when Aja was young, but she had never stopped missing her mother.

“Your mom would be so happy for you, honey.” The stories you have heard about Aja’s mother are agree that she was a kind, sweet, and loving young woman taken from this life far too soon, and you just know in your heart that a woman like that would have been so glad to see her only child happy.

“She would be.” Aja’s eyes are bright with unshed tears, and she reaches for Lily’s hand. “I wish the two of you could have met her. I think you would have loved her as much as she would have loved you.”

“She’s here, baby.” Lily moved to Aja, wrapping her arms around her fiancée’s waist, and holding her tight. “She’s watching and making sure you’re okay and she knows you’re happy.” Though Aja’s father will be here tonight, and tomorrow for the wedding, he hasn’t been fully present in his daughter’s life since she left for university in the States six years ago. If anything, her uncle Oberyn is more of a father than Rhaegar Targaryen since Aja became an adult.

“I know.” Aja turns and presses a featherlight kiss on Lily’s lips. “Thank you, love.” She murmurs softly:

“I should let you guys take care of things.” You feel wildly out of place, including not wanting to intrude on their moment just now, and you should be thinking about a shower before the party. “I’ve got to shower the flight off of me and get ready for your party.”

“You don’t have to go.” Aja protests, pulling away from Lily and looking at you. “We are just lovey-dovey this week.”

“And you deserve to be.” Giving them both a quick hug, you step back again toward the palace. “I remember the way. See you in about an hour.”

Lily frowns as she watches you walk away. “I wish I knew what happened.” She murmurs to Aja. “She used to want a connection with someone.”

“What happened with her last relationship?” It had ended Right before Lily and Aja met, so her knowledge of her son-to-be sister-in-law in love was next to nonexistent.

“I don’t know.” Lily confesses. “She just said she didn’t want to talk about it and that she was going to focus on her skills as a chef.”

“Has it really been six years?” With her arm wrapped around Lily, Aja wanders toward the small tables set out along the patio to check what is being used for centerpieces. “I can’t imagine going that long without loving someone.”

“I guess. She hasn’t mentioned anyone.” Lily feels guilty, being so happy and in love when she knows you would thrive under that feeling. She hears you complain when the two of you chat about the long hours and knows that someone to share your burdens with, or even laugh and fuck away the stress would do you wonders.

“Don’t spiral, love.” Aja can feel Lily tense up against her and she presses a kiss to her fiancée’s temple. “She’d hate it, and we must conserve our energy to deal with our parents tonight. When we get back from the honeymoon, we’ll see if we can’t set her up on a few dates. How does that sound?”

“I would say yes,” Lily shakes her head. “But I’m afraid her last name should be Martell. She’s as stubborn as everyone in your family.” She tells her fiancée with a grin. “Even though technically your last name is Targaryen.”

“I am so much a Martell that I avoided my father’s blonde hair.” Aja jokes, laughing deeply. “Although my stubbornness is in wanting my loved ones to be happy…which I suppose is something else I inherited from my mother.”

“I hope she doesn’t stay mad at me.” Lily takes Aja’s hand. “Come on, we need to look amazing, after all, this party is for us.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44

FDwL: @emofairyprincessofarkansas @littlemisspascal @doommommy @lepard60 @writeforfandoms @sweet-heartbadmouth @scorpio-marionette @storiesofthefandomlovers @fan-of-encouragement @sainteredhood @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @shadowolf993 @apocalypticwafflekitten @coldlonelydays @166869 @genevievedarcygranger @missredherring  @ellenmunn @teenagezombiekryptonite @star017

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #modern!Oberyn #Game of Thrones fanfic #GoT fic #modern au #slight twist on the wedding date trope #i love one (1) bisexual chaos prince

[kookingtae]

Always the Bridesmaid (m)

→ pairing: writer taehyung x reader (ft. seokjin)

→ genre: enemies to lovers, smut, angst, fluff, holiday/christmas

→ word count: 34.1k (im so sorry i dont do one shots lmao)

→ scenario: When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

→ warnings: unrequited love (reader has feelings for her boss), tae is a cynic who hates marriage and christmas but isn’t afraid to call oc out on her bullshit, angry sex kinda?, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating (in the past), tae kinda uses the reader a lil bit, happy ending tho so !!

→ a/n: this is part of a winter wedding season, collab two of christmas in july hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung, and @xiaokoo and based off of the movie 27 Dresses. i was beyond excited when i saw this movie on the collab list! as a hopeless romantic, 27 dresses was a childhood favorite of mine and one i could watch over and over again. bc i love the movie so much, i had a hard time separating it from my own work and deciding if i should switch things up or not mess with this classic masterpiece of a plot lol. so i ended up doing a little bit of both! if youve seen the movie (and remember it as well as i do lmao) some beginning scenes may be the same in order to establish the plot and whatnot, but as the story continues i definitely tweak some things and make it my own :") regardless, i hope you enjoy this christmas themed romcom!

→ another a/n bc i talk too much: HOLY SHIT ITS FINALLY HERE!!! writing this has been the biggest challenge for myself as a writer, though i definitely dont regret it bc i met some amazing people and found out i can write 34k in two months?? omg??? tho im worried it feels rushed and i havent had time to edit it, so pls excuse literally everything in this fic sdfjkd a HUGE thank you to @mercurygguk for letting me scream endlessly to you, im so happy we became friends and i wouldnt have been able to push through this without you!! <3

The sip of champagne was cool as it hit your tongue, its sweet nectar fizzing on your tastebuds and illuminating your senses with a gentle hum to match the warm effervescent glow of the lights that bounced off the crystal chandeliers and reflected across the room in a shifting, sparkling dance of refracted color and silver.

Much like the shimmering lights, the people below them danced as well, their bodies mingling and moving in a makeshift synchronization to the well-known tune that blared from the DJ’s speakers. The Macarena was a party favorite for group dances at gatherings such as these, and what better time to get everyone together in shared merriment than during a loved one’s wedding?

You hurriedly downed the final gulp from your tall stemmed glass before being ushered out onto the dance floor by your friends. Your presence as a bridesmaid was one of utmost importance, as you were often the one to make an appearance and set the mood for the lively, upbeat occasion. Your own feelings aside, it was your good friend’s special day, and as someone who played such a huge role in planning and putting this event together you would do anything to make sure everything went according to plan and everyone was having fun.

It also happened to be your other good friend’s wedding day as well, and while you moved your hands about your head and swiveled your hips to the catchy beat, you subtly checked the jeweled chain watch that dangled from your wrist as a reminder to not get too swept up in one reception lest you forget the other.

You had to be out the door in three minutes.

When the song was over you reluctantly took your leave from the floor with spared smiles and shakes of your head to the crowd before quickly rounding the corner and dashing towards the exit once you were sure no one was looking. The brisk winter air that rushed over you when you burst through the double doors and out into the bustling city nightlife was exhilarating.

“Come on! Get in the car, let’s go!” You hurried along your hired taxi driver for the night who was casually resting against the outside of his door like you had all the time in the world to spare. His eyes widened upon seeing your frantic state before he dived behind the steering wheel and sped off onto the busy street once you practically threw yourself into his backseat.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You cursed to yourself as you yanked down the zipper of your bridesmaid dress only to clamber your way into another. Both gowns were equally ridiculous and incredibly difficult to get in and out of, but you weren’t one to complain. It wasn’t your special day after all; it was theirs. Who were you to deprive them of their happiness simply because you didn’t like the set attire?

That was the reason you agreed to being in two different weddings on the same day—the reason you went above and beyond to help not only them but every couple whose wedding you attended. You wanted to help make people’s dreams come true. You wanted to take what was meant to be the happiest moment of their lives and make the magic come to life.

Which was why when you weren’t working your day job as an interior decorator, you were spending practically every waking minute of your free time planning your friends’ weddings. Being an interior decorator meant you built relationships with your clients and grew close to a lot of people, so there was never a shortage of happy couples getting engaged who could always use your help. You loved weddings; they’d been a passion of yours since you were a child, and you had a knack for making everything fall into place. If you enjoyed it and were good at it, why shouldn’t you participate in all the festivities that you could?

You quickly tore off the halo of greenery nestled atop your head and replaced it with a diamond hair comb. Thank god you were able to choose your own hairstyle for both of these weddings, or you’d be screwed having to recreate a different updo within the seven minutes it took to get from one reception hall to the other every time you got in the car.

You had the backdoor open before the taxi even screeched to a halt at the curb of your destination.

“Wait—wrong shoes! Wrong shoes!” Your taxi driver, who you’d offered a flat fee for the night and was now accustomed to your antics of switching back and forth between places all night, called out to your retreating form before chucking a pair of nude heels from the window and onto the sidewalk in front of you. You quickly scrambled to retrieve them and tossed the shoes that were currently on your feet back at him in the vehicle with a fleeting thank you.

Once inside the building your pace slowed to a casual stroll, and you were suddenly aware of the way your racing pulse clobbered erratically in your chest after moving so quickly. The ambiance of this wedding was much more relaxed than the last, more chatting and catching up happening between guests and less time spent on the dance floor.

You gracefully sidled up to a group of friends—the bridal party—and inserted yourself into the conversation with a practiced ease as if you’d been there all along, none of them questioning your whereabouts or catching wind of your quick departure and return.

While absentmindedly listening to the discussion being held and scanning over the sea of guests that intermingled throughout the tulle-covered tables, your gaze fell onto a face that caused you to skid to a halt.

Familiar brown eyes peeked out beneath dark, fluffy locks that sat in tousled curls atop his head and dusted the tops of his lashes. He wore a white fitted button down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, same as he always did, and meandered around the room by himself without really saying much of anything to anyone, same as he always did.

And though there was no doubt in your mind that you recognized this man, you couldn’t for the life of you remember his name.

Maybe that’s because you didn’t know it.

Out of all the weddings you’d been to, you had to say that he’d been in attendance to over half of them—which was saying a lot, because you frequented a wedding almost every week. You were bound to take notice of him eventually due to the basic laws of probability, but at every reception he was doing practically the same thing: observing the crowd, eating the food, not really mingling with anyone past a few pleasantries. At first you assumed he was just a common friend of the other person in the couple you weren’t close to, but you soon realized that this was too much of a coincidence to actually be a coincidence.

Not only did you not know his name, but nobody else seemed to, either.

Your brow arched in involuntary skepticism while you watched him weave throughout the round tables scattered amongst the center of the room, your attention unbeknownst to him as he gazed upon the abundant crowd before coming to a stop in front of the buffet of food spread out by caterers you helped coordinate. The table was mostly free of guests, as the night was growing old and many people had already finished eating their meals, though that didn’t stop this man from grabbing a dinner plate and piling it with food.

Eyes never leaving him, you turned to the bride by your side. “Hey,” you got her attention before nodding in his direction. “Who’s that guy over there?”

Your friend followed your line of sight to the young man at the buffet table before her pondering eyes were shrouded beneath quizzical brows. “I’m not sure,” she thought aloud with a slight frown. “I don’t think he’s one of Hoseok’s friends either.”

Confirmation that he was neither a guest of the bride nor the groom told you pretty much everything you needed to know: he was a freeloader, one of those parasitic leeches who only wanted free food and entertainment for the night and took advantage of others’ generosity and kindness. There was no other explanation; why else would he be at almost every other wedding in the city without an invitation?

The explanation was simple. He crashed weddings in his free time—which he must’ve had way too much of, if this was how he spent it.

You detested people like him who were always looking for handouts and trying to get one over on someone. Not only that, but to exploit what was supposed to be someone’s happiest day of their life and make unfair use of it for his own benefit was sickening. These were your friends he was stealing from and taking advantage of! You didn’t even want to think about how many innocent couples he’s done this to. People were despicable.

Meanwhile and little to your knowledge, this man had noticed you too. He’d noticed you much sooner than you’d noticed him, in fact. He’d witnessed your coming and going at regular intervals throughout the night and thought it was interesting, alarming, that someone with such an important role in the ceremony would escape for almost thirty minutes at a time during the reception. The familiarity of your face and the distant sound of your voice tickled at the edges of his memory in the promise of remembrance, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Where had he seen you before?

It was dwindling into the late hours of the night; pushing eleven, the event was almost over, and if he didn’t solve this minuscule mystery then it would bug him all night like an itch that needed to be scratched. Which was why when you finally got a moment alone from your friends, champagne flute dangling from your fingertips and eyes peering at your watch, he approached you.

“Hello,” he greeted in a suave tone with a charming grin on his lips, his hand sticking out to you after a moment’s pause. “Tae.”

You eyed his hand with a skeptical air of offense, disgust creeping up your throat at the notion of associating with this moocher. Why was he talking to you? Simply making the rounds so nobody would get suspicious? Little did he know you were already on to him.

“Y/N.” You eventually shook his hand after much reluctance to even acknowledge the man in front of you.

“This is going to sound weird, but do I know you from somewhere?” His head tilted with the cock of an eyebrow and a sheepish chuckle. “You look so familiar to me.”

“Yeah, so do you.” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm and resentment from flying past your lips as you looked away with a thinly veiled eye roll and another sip of champagne. You weren’t going to pretend to be cordial with him; he didn’t deserve your respect.

You watched as he paused in thought out of the corner of your eye before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head. His hands clapped together in a little aha! moment. “I know where I recognize you from! You were in that wedding at the grove last week!”

You couldn’t help but balk at his choice of words: that wedding. Not only did he have the audacity to crash these events on a weekly basis, but he didn’t even have the decency to remember the married couples’ names?!

“Uh huh, funny,” you sneered, not even trying to hide your disdain anymore. “So were you.”

Tae’s brow arched at that, a smirk lifting at the corner of his mouth. “You noticed me?”

You rolled your eyes. The audacity of this man! How could he possibly attribute being recognized by a total stranger to something as shallow as his good looks rather than the fact that he showed up to every wedding in the city? Someone was bound to catch on eventually!

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I see right through you.” You shook your head with a mix of frustration and disgust while walking away. Thankfully it was about time for the reception to end and the venue to start deconstructing the decorations, so you didn’t have to stick around for another second listening to this thief.

Though it was to your dismay that Tae followed you as you made your way to the door, amusement twitching at his features. “You do, do you?” Is all he said in defense, as if this was nothing more than a game to him.

“Yes, and you know what?” You spun around to confront him which caused his steps to screech to a halt at your heels. “People like you are disgusting, mooching off the happiness of others. You should be ashamed of yourself.” You turned back around and stalked off before you could hear another word he said.

That didn’t get you very far; he was soon catching up to you and matching your quickening pace with a quirked brow. Confusion now mingled with the steady amusement on his expression. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it mooching-”

“And who do you think you are, calling me out on how many weddings I’ve been in?” You continued to fume before you could stop yourself. “At least I was invited!”

“Hey now, just because I don’t know the couple personally doesn’t mean-“

You cut him off with a bitter laugh while grabbing your things by the front door. “You’ve got some nerve, buddy.”

“Buddy?” His grin of amusement grew at your words.

You stormed out of the building and into the night, the cold air now clinging to your skin like a thick, damp blanket as rain steadily poured down onto the sidewalk just beyond the awning overhead. Desperate to get away from him, you didn’t even pause before stepping out into the storm.

Your hair and gown were both soaked in a matter of seconds, though your headstrong stubbornness kept you from accepting the umbrella Tae had retrieved just beyond the front entrance and was now offering to share with you. Where the hell was your taxi driver?

“Come on, you’re being ridiculous!” Tae jeered when you refused his offer yet again, instead choosing to shiver in the freezing November rain.

“Don’t you have another wedding to crash?” You barked as you stepped to the edge of the curb, looking for your ride. Had he really abandoned you without a way home? You paid him in advance for his services until 11:15!

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you saw that the time was quarter past. God damn these city transportation services. He couldn’t even wait ten minutes before he left you in the dust?

A huff of frustration left your lips as you lifted your hand to hail a taxi, but to no avail. Each yellow car within a mile radius zoomed straight past you without so much as a tap of the brakes.

Tae managed to watch you struggle with a barely contained laugh for about two minutes before he stepped up, stuck his arm out, and was answered with a taxi in no more than mere seconds.

“This is bullshit,” you muttered under your breath, refusing to give in as you clutched your purse to your chest and continued in your efforts to flag down a ride.

“Jesus, will you just get in the cab?” Tae had the backdoor open with one foot up on the curb, his full attention on you as he gestured to the dry, warm interior of the vehicle.

“What? I’m not going anywhere with you!” You shrieked, revolted that he would even assume such a thing. If you refused his offer of a shared umbrella in the middle of a torrential downpour, what in god’s name would make him think you’d accept a shared taxi?

A smirk tugged at his features at that, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Who said anything about going somewhere together?”

You blinked as heat rose to your cheeks and your mouth dried with parted lips, realizing you walked yourself right into that one. “Well, I don’t know you!” You stammered in a harsh and defensive tone. “And apparently neither does anyone else here. That’s the problem!”

He gave you a half lidded stare as if to say, really. “Just get in the cab; we’ll give the guy separate addresses. You’re gonna catch a cold if you keep standing in this rain.”

You were suddenly aware of how drenched you truly were, hair falling in wet strands around your face and body chilled to the bone—not to mention the fact that your teeth were starting to chatter a subtle but uncontrollable amount.

“I can take care of myself,” you snapped defensively.

“I don’t doubt it.” His eyes rolled dismissively at your rebuttal, though you just barely caught the way his expressionless gaze flickered briefly over your dress soaked and clinging to the outline of your body. He was back to looking at your face before you had a chance to react. “But who knows how long you’ll be waiting for another ride at this hour?”

It was true; a Saturday night in the big city? Almost no ubers or lifts were available in this area, all either stuck in traffic or being used by drunk college kids, and it seemed your old taxi driver made other cabs swear off of stopping for you. Who knew how long you would be waiting in these freezing temperatures? You hadn’t brought a coat either for fear of messing up your strangely shaped bridesmaid dresses, having figured you probably wouldn’t spend much time outside anyways.

Boy were you wrong.

“Fine.” The word tasted like bile in your throat as you forced it out through clenched teeth, setting aside your pride and begrudgingly getting into the backseat. You ignored Tae’s triumphant smile as he slid in behind you and shut the door.

Once you explained the two separate destinations and made sure the driver was on the right track, you settled into the uncomfortable leather seats. Bags of extra decor and accessories just in case the bridal party forgot or needed anything took up most of the space on the floorboard, along with your extra set of clothes for the second wedding and extravagant bouquets of flowers you received as party favors. You shoved a bushel of holly away from your face in order to retrieve your planner from your purse.

You didn’t understand how you got yourself into this situation; how did you end up in the backseat of a taxi cab with the one man you wanted absolutely nothing to do with? Anger at the night’s turn of events had you ripping off the cap of your pen with your teeth and furiously scribbling on the paper in your lap so hard that indentions of your handwriting bled onto to the next page.

Tae arched a brow. “What’s that?”

You ignored his pointed tone and the way he eyed your small spiral notebook with judgment as you crossed out today’s weddings. “None of your business.”

A chuckle escaped his lips at that. “Please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

You frowned over at him, your patience nonexistent at this point. “What?”

He craned his neck to get a better look, to which you shielded your writing protectively from his view.

“Is that a planner?”

“I’m sorry, is there a problem?” You snapped back.

His hands raised in surrender while he leaned back against his seat and shook his head. “No, no. I just didn’t realize we were still in the twentieth century is all.”

You threw him an incredulous look. “Do you have something against planners?”

“No, they’re fine by me,” he continued in a casual tone, though it was obvious he was holding back a laugh. “I just would’ve expected someone like you to use the calendar in your phone like the rest of civilization.”

“Someone like me?” Your brow arched defensively.

“Yeah, y’know, someone young. You can’t be past what, mid-twenties?”

You huffed out a sigh of exasperation. “If you must know, I like having something physical. It helps me stay organized when I can see it all laid out in front of me.”

His lips twitched at your words. “Well I don’t know about the organization part, but I can definitely help with something physical.”

The unexpectedness of his overt sexual innuendo had you stiffening for a moment, though once you blinked past the initial shock you let out a sound of disgust.

“I don’t know what part of this interaction made you think you could flirt with me, but you most certainly cannot.”

You felt Tae’s eyes on you then, and as much as you fought the urge to look over at him you couldn’t stop the way your gaze involuntarily found his. What were once warm brown eyes were now cool and striking in the moonlight shining in through the windows, shadows of muted red from the traffic lights casting over his features and giving his skin a sultry glow to match the gentle thrum of rain cascading down the glass in soft, somber streams.

The intensity of his stare in the dark was almost too overwhelming. You had to physically force yourself to break eye contact and look away.

“You rushed past me earlier, by the way.” His voice was thick like velvet as it filled the heavy silence, though as he continued it adopted a lilt of amusement. “I saw you changing clothes. You were in two weddings in one night, weren’t you?”

Your head snapped in his direction with raised brows before you could stop yourself, the scoff that automatically fell from your lips covering the flustered flush blooming over your cheeks in reaction to not only the fact that he saw you changing, but also that someone caught you in the two-timing bridesmaid act.

“So what if I was?” You barked defensively.

He seemed as if he expected that type of reply from you. “I mean that has to be exhausting, right? One wedding is bad enough.”

Your face twisted at the audacity of his words. “Says the man who shows up to almost every wedding there is!”

“I mean yeah, but not for the fun of it,” he shrugged as if he had no other choice but to crash these couples’ special days.

“So what’s it for?” You were seething before you could stop yourself, having lost patience with this stranger long ago. “The free food? The live entertainment? Something to pass the time with during your lonely, pathetic life?”

Tae’s jaw dropped, though that didn’t stop the slight upturn of his lips as if he consistently found some sort of humor in your words. “Okay, I’m sensing a lot of animosity here and I’m not sure why.” He gestured between the two of you.

“This is pointless.” You shook your head with a sigh and returned to looking forward. You didn’t know why you were wasting your time arguing with a man who would willingly take advantage of people—your friends included—on their wedding day.

“What? All I’m saying is it’s a whole lot of ritual just for something that has about a 50/50 shot of working out,” he hummed.

You cut your eyes at him. “Wow, a man who doesn’t believe in marriage. How original.”

“Hey I’m just trying to point out the hypocrisy of the spectacle, that’s all.”

“Well I for one happen to love weddings,” you quickly hissed, brushing a stray damp curl from your face. Thankfully the driver had enough consideration to turn on the heat when you entered the cab so that the cold winter air and freezing rain clinging to your body slowly began to evaporate.

Tae blinked at that. “You love them?” He looked at you like you were insane.

“Yes!” Your voice went shrill in defense.

There was a pause as Tae blew out a breath of disbelief. “What part? The fake, forced merriment or the horrible music?”

“Oh that’s rich, coming from you,” you nodded your head with a sneer. “What was it you said you did for a living again?”

An actual chuckle of surprise left his lips at your words this time, the jovial sound startling you during such a heated debate. “Wait, you don’t know?” The mirth sparkling in his eyes grew tenfold as he leaned forward to get a better look at your face.

You let out a scoff in disgust; just who did this guy think he was, Brad Pitt? “Why the fuck would I know?” You snapped.

He looked like he was on the verge of cracking up as he bit his bottom lip to keep his laughter at bay, though a few giggles still managed to escape past his teeth. “I’m a writer,” he settled on saying after composing himself.

“Right,” you dragged the word out sarcastically, not sure if you believed him after that not-at-all convincing answer. Even though you were sure something was up by the way he was acting, you didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore. After all, his career choice of being a writer explained the free time on his hands, not to mention his habit of scrounging the buffet tables being on brand with the whole starving artist cliche. You looked away with a roll of your eyes.

Thankfully it wasn’t much longer before the taxi pulled up to the front of your apartment complex. You couldn’t get out of the crowded confinements of that overpacked backseat fast enough.

“Well, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but I hope I never see you again.” You flashed him a fake tight-lipped smile, your arms stacked high with your belongings as you stumbled out into the rain.

Tae leaned over in his seat to look at you out the open door while you were trying to balance yourself on the curb. “Are you gonna be in more weddings this weekend?”

“Stop talking to me.”

“How many have you been in? Just like, a ballpark estimate?”

You slammed the door in his face with your foot before marching up the steps to your building.

A while after you left—he had to have been alone in the taxi for at least ten minutes now—something caught Tae’s attention out of the corner of his eye. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was your planner. They were much too far away now for him to ask the driver to turn around to return it to you. He tried to avoid reading it; that was your personal business of course, and he wasn’t some creep. But seeing as he couldn’t think of another way to return it to you, his resolve wasn’t as strong as it could’ve been when the word WEDDING in big capital letters and underlined multiple times caught his eye.

Curiosity nibbled at the edges of his mind until it eventually swarmed into an all-consuming urge and outweighed the resistance within him. He quickly grabbed the planner before he could talk himself out of it.

WEDDING @ 2

MOUNTAIN PARK

WEDDING 11AM !!!!!

BOTANICAL GARDENS

LEE WEDDING

DREAM FOREST @ 4

LOTTE HOTEL @ 6

The calendar was littered with ceremonies and receptions galore, and the more Tae flipped the pages the more frequent they became. How did one person attend so many weddings? Even he had his schedule down to one wedding per week. He couldn’t imagine someone having this much time—or friends—to coordinate wedding details with unless it was their job.

Although with the way you had things like home design, site survey, and other specific terms next to addresses scribbled in for most of the weekdays, Tae figured it was highly probable that you had a separate job during the week. Which meant you weren’t exaggerating just for the sake of the argument: you really did love weddings.

An idea sparked in his mind then; one that had him teeming with anticipation the way he always did when he thought of a good subject for his next article.

For the first time in his life, he couldn’t wait to speak to his boss on Monday.

You stepped into your work building with the Sunday newspaper in hand, the beginning pages already long forgotten as you skipped ahead to your all time favorite section: Matrimony Mementos.

Every week there was an article showcasing an extravagant wedding taking place in the city, and you loved nothing more than to indulge your hopeless romanticism with endless poetic words written by none other than your favorite columnist, Kim Taehyung.

There was something so raw, so authentic and real and vulnerable about the way that Taehyung wrote. He made you fall in love with love and marriage all over again when you read his work, wanting nothing more than to splurge in your enjoyment of weddings after hearing how special and enchanting the ones he wrote about often were. If you ever got to meet him, you’d surely cry in his arms while discussing just how much his beautiful words truly moved you.

Your reading was cut short when the receptionist flagged you down. “Oh, Y/N, you have a message here from someone named… Tae.” Her eyes paused in scanning the computer screen to instead meet yours. “He wants you to call him.”

You wracked your brain for some semblance of a memory. Why did that name sound so familiar?

And suddenly it dawned on you: the wedding crasher from this past Saturday. How the hell did he even get your work number?

“Sunmi, please ignore all future calls from Tae,” you flashed her a sweet smile before continuing on your way to your office.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped through the door was a giant bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk.

Confusion instantly settled upon your features—especially after checking the card and seeing that there was no name from the sender. You rounded your desk to sit down in your seat, flipping the small white card to scan the back for any clues.

Nothing.

“Ooh, did you hook up with someone over the weekend?” Your best friend Yerin had a mischievous grin in her tone of voice as she waltzed into your office and settled into the chair across from you.

You gave her a look to say, as if. “Of course not. I have no idea who they’re from.”

That caught her attention. “Really?” Her brows lifted in curiosity as she leaned over your desk and snatched the card from your hands; the only words on the entire paper read For Y/N.

“Have you seen my planner?” You offhandedly asked, clumsily shuffling papers around on your desk while you looked for the book.

Yerin shook her head distractedly. “Nope, can’t say I have. Are the flowers real?”

“Yeah,” you hummed in reply before abandoning your search and instead turning your attention back to the more pressing matter at hand.

You examined the delicate petals between your fingers, briefly realizing with a frown that they were the same exact type of flowers—holly and roses—that you’d taken home from the wedding on Saturday. Great, as if you didn’t have enough already.

Suddenly a thought sparked in your mind that caused your heart to race. “Wait… you don’t think…?” you trailed off before glancing at Yerin with wide eyes.

“Y/N! Could you please come in here for a second?”

As if on cue, the voice that was currently clouding your mind danced through your open door. You instantly straightened, the petals fluttering forgotten from your fingertips while you shot up from your seat as if trained to do so—and in a way, you kind of were. The man who called you was your boss.

“You should just wear a sign on your forehead that says I’m In Love With You. I think it’d be more subtle,” Yerin quipped sarcastically. Her legs casually dangled over the arm of her chair with the rest of her body draped sideways across the pleather cushion as she tossed the blank card back onto your desk and pulled out one of the design magazines your company left for clients in the lobby.

“Shut up!” You hissed at her on your way out the door, unable to hear her snarky reply as you practically sprinted across the hall like a lovesick puppy dog before stopping in front of his office.

Your insides inflated with warmth when he spun around and greeted you with a smile that you were sure could cure cancer.

“Good morning, my lovely assistant,” your boss, Kim Seokjin, hummed with a lighthearted lilt to his tone. “Have I told you that you’re looking especially breathtaking today?”

He did this every time; you knew what this meant. And though you felt like an infatuated fool, you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at his sugarcoated compliment anyway. “What do you need this time?” You tried to hide the gentle flush of your cheeks behind a teasing chuckle.

“A large coffee with extra espresso please; I’m running on four hours of sleep and I have about six deadlines to hit in the next thirty minutes.” His groan paired with a rub of his temples caused a smile to twitch at your lips; you found his complaint endearing if it meant he felt comfortable enough to do so in your presence.

“Of course,” you giggled, trying not to sound too eager at the thought of helping him. “Though, um, I didn’t get a chance to run it by you yet but I took over all information for your Choi and Kwon clients. I can handle their consultation calls if you want.” The sweet smile that you offered him came naturally.

An exhale of relief fell from his lips as he stared at you in appreciation. “You are a lifesaver. What would I do without you?”

“Oh, it’s really nothing,” you lowered your eyes with a sheepish smile before gazing back over at him beneath your lashes, admiring the perfect symmetry of his elegant features. Seokjin may have a few years on you, but there was no way age would ever show on him. You were certain this man would be handsome forever.

He continued to grin at you before his face suddenly lit up in remembrance. “Oh, by the way, did you get that thing I left on your desk?”

Your breath stuttered as your heart clambered wildly in your chest. “M-my desk?”

“Yeah, was that okay? I know we’ve never had that type of relationship before so I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstepping–”

“N-no! Are you kidding? It’s great!” You couldn’t stop the beam of elation that spread across your lips.

Holy shit. Was this actually happening? Had your boss, the man who you had been hopelessly pining over for years, left flowers on your desk? You felt like you were dreaming.

It was the expectant look on his face that suddenly had you blinking out of your reverie. “R-right, coffee.” You nodded your head once before quickly leaving the room.

“I feel sorry for you.” Your friend appeared at your side faster than you could blink as you walked down the hall towards the elevator. “How long do you think you can keep up this benevolent assistant role before he sees you’re just trying to get in his pants?”

“Can you–!” You abruptly cut yourself off before glancing around the area for nearby coworkers or listening ears. “–stop?” Your last word was a hissed whisper. “Someone’s going to hear you!”

“Well it’s not exactly a secret,” Yerin snorted, the volume of her voice not at all any quieter. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“I’m not just trying to get in his pants,” you corrected, ignoring her. “I like Seokjin! He’s nice. He’s responsible. He’s hard working. He’s–”

“My dad,” she interrupted you with a brash tone. “Or he might as well be, what with the resume you’re giving him. And let me tell you, my dad is boring!”

“Just because you’re into guys with no credit score who still sleep on their mother’s couch doesn’t mean everybody is,” you retorted with a grin, the repartee between you two always in good fun. Yerin was one of your very best friends and the person who knew you better than anyone.

“I’ll have you know that I don’t discriminate. Girls with no credit score are welcome as well,” a tut fell from her lips as she grinned over at you.

You shared her expression with a roll of your eyes. “Either way, I think I know who the flowers came from,” you admitted with a slight flush of your cheeks.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “From Seokjin?!”

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth to keep the sprouting smile from taking over your features as you nodded.

“Okay, this is not a fantasy anymore Y/N. This is real life.” Her tone grew more serious as she pulled you to a stop and looked you in the eye. “I don’t understand why you won’t just tell him how you feel. You’re a grown woman acting like a teenager!”

“Seokjin is not some middle school crush, Yerin! He’s my boss.” You shook your head before continuing down the hallway of cubicles.

“Please, people date in the office all the time,” she quickly brushed you off.

“My direct boss; I’m literally his assistant. There is a power dynamic at play here that is completely unethical!”

“Sounds kinky.”

You closed your eyes with a sigh. “It’s wrong, Yerin. Seokjin respects me; I don’t want to ruin that!”

“So making heart eyes at him all day for the rest of your life is better?”

You sighed; you knew she was right. Even if he didn’t eventually catch on one day that you had feelings for him, the thought of never getting to be with him the way you truly wanted to drove a stake through your heart. “I will make a move... one day.” You shook your head to clear your mind before refocusing on your surroundings. “And I know I always say that, but it’s because I mean it!”

“When, Y/N?! You’ve been working at this company for three years and Seokjin had you wrapped around his finger by the very first hello. There are sloths that move faster than you!”

“I just need some more time, okay? There hasn’t been the right moment.” You sighed again, checking your watch to see how much time you had to make it to Seokjin’s favorite coffee shop. “Now if you’re done harassing me, I need to be across the street and back in the next five minutes.”

Yerin made the sound and hand gesture of a cracking whip to which you rolled your eyes in reply, and that was the last you heard before the two of you parted ways at the elevator door.

Tae slapped your planner down on his boss’ desk at The Korea Times. “Always a bridesmaid.”

She stared down at the booklet on her desk before glancing back up at him under low lids that said she was somehow already done with today even though it was barely 9:30 in the morning. “What is that?”

“The next story for the front page of the section,” he told her with the same amount of confidence and conviction that he felt.

“Taehyung,” she leaned back with a sigh, years worth of stress seeming to settle on her worn features. “How many times have I heard this from you?”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” He fixed her with a charming grin. “When have I ever led you astray?”

“Well, let’s see.” She rested her elbows on her desk, pretending to think. “There was that exposé on price-fixing at wedding bakeries.”

“They’re ripping people off! Flour costs pennies per ounce; that’s an 800% markup. It’s outrageous!”

“Yes it is. Also, no one cares.” The sarcasm was dripping from her tone as she went back to looking over the newspaper in her hand.

“Alright, well what about the piece I wanted to do on the exploitation of workers in handmade lace factories?” He began to idly pace the room, listing yet another one of his story ideas that had at least a semblance of meaning to it rather than the shallow, empty fluff they normally wanted him to feed their readers. “That’s a great piece.”

“Taehyung, this section practically pays for the entire paper.” She took off her reading glasses to stare at him with a sigh. “Our advertisers want fun, upbeat, colorful human interest stories next to their products. Especially with Christmas right around the corner; almost everything has to be happy and holiday themed this time of year.”

“So that’s what we’re about now?” He gave her a heavy lidded look as if to say, really. “Selling out for the sake of a profit?”

“Get out.”

“Okay, listen. Just hear me out.” He straightened up and put his hands in front of him as if envisioning the title in the paper. “Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride. This girl,” he pointed to your planner, “has been in three different weddings.”

“So?”

“This month.”

She slowly glanced back up at him, intrigue flickering on her otherwise expressionless face.

“Two of them were in the same night,” he explained further, knowing he had caught her interest now. “That’s where I met her: the Jung wedding I was covering on Saturday. I looked at her planner and the thing is littered with weddings.”

A perfectly sculpted brow arched high on her forehead. Though everyone knew it wasn’t right to snoop through other’s personal belongings, morality went out the window where his boss was concerned. Even if he had told her the truth about how he came across the planner, the only things she cared about were good stories and selling papers.

Which was exactly why she opened your planner without a second thought and started flipping through the pages while Tae continued.

“It won’t just be about her though; it’ll be an insightful piece about how the wedding industry has transformed something that should be an important rite of passage into nothing more than a corporate revenue stream.”

She pursed her lips as she glanced up at him with a knowing look.

“In y’know, a fun, upbeat, festive kind of way,” he quickly added.

She glanced back down at the planner, still not fully convinced.

He leaned in and let out a sigh. “Look, I’m dying back there in the Momentos section. If I have to write another sentence about baby’s breath, I’m gonna throw myself off a cliff.” He pointed to the open page in her hand. “This is a real story. This is what I want to do.”

“I need you covering weddings.” She shook her head. “That’s what you’re good at.”

“If you don’t start giving me feature stories, I’m gonna have to quit.”

That had her pausing. “Alright. One chance,” she finally relented. “If I don’t like it, you go back to Mementos for the rest of your life with a big smile on that ridiculously handsome face of yours.” She gave his cheek a light pat for good measure before walking out of the room.

A deep, pulsing bass ricocheted from the walls and coursed its vibrations through your bones the moment you stepped foot into the bar.

It was the first Friday of December, and you were at the annual holiday work party that your company always held. Normally the event was usually took place at a banquet hall or swanky lounge around town, but this year it was held at a local bar that seemed to look more and more like a club as the night went on. Bright hues of orange, red, and blue cascaded down from the overhanging spotlights and danced around the room in time with the upbeat music sounding through the speakers. Many faces were familiar to you when you scanned the area, as most in attendance here were coworkers, though because the bar was still open to the public there were a few strangers intermingled in the crowd.

Your heart sped up when you saw Seokjin across the room, his body hidden within a group of people but his face like a shining beacon playing its siren song and drawing you closer in a sea full of darkness. A natural smile involuntarily sprung to your lips as you watched him, so radiate and effervescent among the crowd, and just as you began to take a step towards him—

Your racing heart plummeted when the group of people around him parted, and there was someone on his arm—someone who looked a lot like one of your coworkers, Park Mijoo.

Mijoo worked in a different department of the company than you so your offices were no where near each other, and therefore the two of you were casual friends but not close by any means. You were friendly with one another in social settings but you didn’t often get the chance to talk, and that was the only excuse you could think of as to how you didn’t realize she and your boss were… whatever this was that you were witnessing right now.

You tried to tell yourself it was nothing when Seokjin caught your eye and waved you over, though the lump in your throat said otherwise as you approached the pair and noticed their intimate body language.

“Hey!” You managed a forced smile onto your face to mask your pain.

“Y/N, hi!” An enthusiastic squeal fell from Mijoo’s lips as she embraced you in a friendly hug.

You turned to Seokjin next, and when his arms wrapped around you a burst of comforting warmth filled you from the inside out. “Glad you could make it,” he murmured near to your ear, and you swore there was nothing you wanted more than to feel his breath against your skin for the rest of your life.

You were far too reluctant to pull away, though Mijoo didn’t seem to notice. “I love that dress,” she spoke when you parted.

“Oh, thank you!”

“I agree. You look stunning tonight Y/N,” your boss’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile.

Your heart fluttered as you glanced down at the fitted dress you put on with Seokjin in mind, knowing just how much you longed to hear those words from his mouth. Though when you looked back up just in time to see his arm wrap around Mijoo’s waist, his words felt hollow in comparison.

Jealousy clawed within you, the ugly emotion going head to head with the dejection already taking over all rational thought. You hadn’t even realized he was seeing anyone, much less a girl who worked at the same company. How did this happen? When did this happen? A thousand questions began swarming within you like a brewing storm, though all you could do in that moment was stare lamely while the couple gazed at each other like they hung the stars and moon, smiles adorning their features.

Seokjin looked so happy. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him this happy—certainly not at work, and certainly never around you, you painfully realized. There had never been a day in your life where Seokjin looked at you the way he looked at Mijoo on his arm right now, no matter how often his expression brightened when you stepped into his office or brought him his favorite lunch order without asking. Every compliment he’d ever given you suddenly felt empty, meaningless.

“Oh, thank you again for agreeing to take care of my laundry Y/N.”

You were shook from your emotions at the sound of his voice. “Laundry?”

“Yeah, you know, the dry cleaning slip?” He then turned back to Mijoo and explained. “I was running late Monday morning and didn’t have time to pick it up so I left it on Y/N’s desk.”

“On my desk…” you mumbled to yourself before a humorless chuckle of disbelief deflated you. How could you be so stupid as to think he would leave you flowers? He was your boss, for god’s sake. He wouldn’t date his assistant.

Even if he would, he didn’t see you that way.

After that your surroundings became cloudy, muffled to your senses. Those flowers were the one flicker of hope still living inside you, the one glimpse of what could be if you grew enough courage to swallow your reservations and admit your feelings. Even after seeing him here with Mijoo tonight, you still couldn’t help but believe that there might be something, something there between you two. It was just untapped, unexplored. It just needed to be discovered.

But of course, you were foolishly naïve yet again. Seokjin saw you as his assistant, someone to get him coffee in the morning and pick up his dry cleaning and nothing more. You’d feel taken advantage of if it weren’t for the fact that it was literally in your job description. You were the one out of line, not him. You were the one in the wrong.

But that didn’t make looking at the two of them together any easier.

And in that moment you did the only thing you were physically capable of doing, which was walking away. You doubted the couple even noticed; they were too entranced with each other to miss your presence.

You didn’t think it was even possible to feel worse than you already did, but low and behold, the universe continued to kick you while you were down and dance on your grave.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

Unfortunately you recognized the voice; it scratched and gnawed its way into your subconscious like an annoying pest that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you would’ve loved to forget it.

And when you spun around on your heel to face the intruder, your horrible night spun into utter disaster to see none other than the mooching marriage-hater from last Saturday night.

“Jesus fucking christ, just shoot me now.” You didn’t even spare Tae a second glance as you walked past him towards the exit without another word.

“Come on now, that any way to greet your knight in shining armor?”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he followed after you, what with his apparent habit of finding every possible way to grate your last nerve, but you let out a sigh of frustration nonetheless at his pesky persistence.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood tonight–”

You turned around to see your planner being held out to you in his hand.

“Oh my god, where did you find this?!” Your eyes were the size of saucers as you took the notebook from him like it was made of gold.

“You left it in the cab last weekend,” he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but the smug self-satisfaction was hard to miss in his tone. “Too busy carrying up all your other useless shit from that night, I suppose. Though if you weren’t so eager to get away from me for whatever reason, you probably wouldn’t have–”

“Wait a second, useless shit?!” You cried, angered by so many things that just left his mouth you didn’t even know which one to focus on or where to start, but you had to defend your friends if nothing else. “Those flowers were bridal party favors hand-picked and arranged by the brides! Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into them?”

“Why, so they can eventually wither and die on your living room floor?” The way he cocked an eyebrow with the twitch of a grin said he knew he was right. “Those arrangements were way too massive to be considered practical, and you know it. Also, they both gave flowers as their bridal party favors?” A scoff of disapproval left his lips.

The fact that he still had the audacity to judge others—after not only crashing weddings on the regular but criticizing marriage as a whole—left you too flabbergasted to admit that you were the one who had suggested doing flower arrangements to both brides.

“You are infuriating!” You couldn’t help but cry out.

Why were you even shocked at this point? This man had already proved he had nothing but nerve the last time you met; you wouldn’t have suspected tonight to be any different. Still, the rate at which he opened his mouth to say more dumb shit left you appalled at the amount of assholes in this world.

“And why the hell did it take you so long to give back my planner?!” Your rage was already fueled by the previous argument, and you had no plans of stopping. “You’ve had it this whole time?!”

“Well it was either tonight or Wednesday’s dentist appointment, so I figured I’d take my chances here.”

“You read it?!”

“How else was I supposed to get it back to you?!”

“Um, I don’t know, you could’ve sent it to my apartment like a normal person! It’s not like you don’t know where I live!”

“I didn’t memorize your address! What is your definition of normal?!” He looked at you like you had three heads. “Besides, I called your work and you didn’t answer.”

“How did you even get my work number?!” You cried out before pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. “You know what, no, I don’t even wanna know. I’m really not in the mood for this right now.”

“Y’know, you got a real lousy way of saying thank you.” His arms crossed over his chest, though the same mirth that was sparkling in his eyes during your first meeting was back again. “But don’t worry, I’ll let you get a drink with me and we’ll call it even.”

A sound of disgust ripped through the back of your throat. “Why on earth would I ever want to get drinks with you?!”

“To say thank you, of course,” he blinked like the answer was obvious. “Come on, it won’t be so bad. I promise not to talk about you double booking two weddings Mrs. Doubtfire-style anymore.”

You involuntarily tensed at his mention of your stunt last weekend. “In your dreams,” you shook your head.

A suave smile curled its way onto his lips. “How’d you know?”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, ready to turn around and leave him in the dust with only a growing headache to remember him by. But what you saw had you stopping dead in your tracks, the anger within you melting into nothing but a puddle of sorrow.

Seokjin and Mijoo were kissing.

And it felt like your world was shattering.

All of the anger, all of the frustration that had been swirling within you from your conversation was instantly devoured in the wake of devastation that now consumed you from the inside out. Your heart dropped into your gut and dragged the internal organ straight through the floor among the pieces where the rest of you laid broken, bruised and bleeding without any means of restoration.

It hurt. It hurt to even think about the man you were in love with kissing someone else, much less doing it right in front of your very eyes—with someone you considered a friend, no less.

The heartbreak, the absolute despair demolishing every ounce of your pride and practicality steeled into a cold, resolute resolve until you wanted nothing more than to not feel anymore.

“Fuck it,” you murmured under your breath before spinning back around to face Tae and making a beeline for the bar. “Fine.”

You needed a drink anyway.

Your shot glass slammed down on the bar counter at the same time as Tae’s who kept insisting that his landed there first. Telling him otherwise was like arguing with a brick wall.

“So how did you like those flowers on Monday?” The man next to you lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.

“How did you–“ your words stopped short as you balked at him, eyes wide and jaw forgotten on the floor. “Wait. You’re the one who sent me flowers?”

“Yeah.” Tae blinked. “Was that not obvious by the holly? I mean, who gifts a bouquet of holly otherwise? It’s a bush.”

Suddenly it all made sense: the cryptic notecard, the exact same type of flowers that you went home with the night of the weddings.

The flowers weren’t from the man of your dreams; they were from your worst nightmare.

“How did you get my work address?!”

“Uh, your planner? Your business card is inside.”

You wanted to scream.

“Excuse me! Another round, please?” You hastily called out to the bartender without hesitation.

Three shots of tequila in and you were starting to feel loose. You knew it was probably going to catch up to you later all at once, leaving you drunk on your ass within the next hour or so, but right now you were nice and tipsy.

It wasn’t enough to ease the ache in your heart, but it helped.

“So what is it you do, exactly?” Tae’s attention was on you from the seat next to yours at the bar, his drink dangling from his fingertips as he swirled the ice around in the near-empty glass before downing the rest of it. “By the looks of things I would’ve guessed wedding planner.”

“Ha, only in my free time,” you chuckled sarcastically with a tip of your glass before taking another sip, now having moved on from shots to a chilled margarita. The sting of the strong contents was welcome as it burned your throat; the bartender thankfully had a heavy pour. “Don’t you already know what I do? You know where I work.”

“Hey, the title on your business card just says designer. I didn’t want to assume.” He held his hands up in surrender.

You raised a single brow at him, not convinced. “So you’re nosy enough to go through my planner but not to look up my company online?”

“Jesus, I’m not a stalker.” A comical, exaggerated scoff left his lips.

You simply tutted, a grin of amusement fighting it’s way onto your features as you rolled your eyes and took another sip. “I work for an interior design company.”

“Oh,” Tae’s brows raised as he nodded, his gaze falling over you in assessment after your answer. “That explains the micromanaging, then.”

Your eyes narrowed as you side-eyed him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, you even said it yourself: interior designer by day, wedding designer by night,” he shrugged like it was obvious before signaling to the bartender for another drink. “Micromanaging is basically in your blood at this point.”

You rolled your eyes, watching with disdain as a little smirk played at the corners of his mouth while he knowingly avoided your gaze. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” You scoffed as the bartender delivered him another whiskey and coke. “You don’t even know me! That’s not why I help plan weddings.”

“Then why do you?” He suddenly turned and directed all of his attention on you.

The unexpected directness of his question and eye contact had you stiffening in surprise, almost flustered as you looked down and slowly started to swirl the thin straw in your drink. “A wedding is supposed to be the most special moment of a person’s life,” you shrugged, suddenly feeling demure in your feelings. You blamed the alcohol. “I like helping their visions and dreams come true and making them happy.”

He stared at you for a while; you could feel his gaze hot on your face. “What about your own happiness?” He asked after a moment.

You snorted, continuing to stir your drink as you glanced up at the rows of glass bottles lining the wall behind the bar. “What do you mean?”

“Well you’re always planning for other people but not yourself, no?”

A scoff involuntarily fell from your lips as you blinked at him once, twice. “You don’t know anything about me,” you lamely defended yourself again.

“I know you like to make other people happy,” he gestured to you in reference back to the words you’d just drunkenly spilled to him. “I know you’re always a bridesmaid because you’re too busy planning everyone else’s life to take care of your own. Do you ever just focus on yourself?”

His words hit too close to home, your defense mechanisms kicking into overdrive as you put up a barrier to protect your vulnerabilities that he somehow managed to call out in less time than anyone you’d ever known. There were people you considered friends who didn’t even take the time to dig this deeply into your psyche. Why did he?

It made you feel naked, weak, scared—and you didn’t like it one bit.

“And just how the fuck would you know that? You’re a stranger,” you quickly snapped. “I don’t have to prove anything to anyone—especially not to you.”

“Of course not,” he shrugged, “but then you’re just avoiding the inevitable.”

Your brow arched, though you didn’t know why you were even humoring him at this point. “Which is?”

Tae took a long sip of his drink, ice cubes knocking against each other as they danced within the dark liquid before his eyes met yours over the rim. You fidgeted in your stool, not knowing what it was about his stare that made your insides flush with heat.

“You’re wasting so much time taking care of other people that eventually it’s gonna be too late to take charge of your own life,” he said once he sat his glass back down.

Anger swelled within your chest. “Fuck you. I am taking charge of my own life; I’m choosing to do this! I know it’s hard to imagine for someone as selfish as you, but making people happy is what makes me happy.”

“Bullshit,” he bluntly blurted out.

You spluttered at the sudden comeback. “What?!”

“Bullshit! I think that’s an excuse so you don’t have to deal with the real problem. You just don’t want to say no to people!”

“Excuse me?!” You were seething at this point. “And who the fuck are you?!”

He tutted, spinning forward to face the bar in his chair. “Someone who’s seen what’s on your calendar,” he pretended to mutter the dig.

“Yeah, which you shouldn’t have read in the first place!” You let out a scoff before impulsively grabbing your thick planner sitting on the bar-top and slapping him on the arm with it.

“Ow!” A chuckle of disbelief spluttered from his lips, his eyes lighting up in mirth. “Did you just hit me with that century-old fossil?”

“Yeah, it doubles as a weapon when my words aren’t enough.” You hit him again.

“Ow! Hey, stop!” Laughter fell from Tae’s lips as he twisted his body in his seat to shield himself from your repeated blows. “Stop!”

“Make me!” A giggle of your own slipped past your lips, his amusement infectious thanks to your low alcohol tolerance that made everything seem funnier than it was. You continued to lightly hit him with the notebook in your hands until you were both practically in hysterics.

When the window of opportunity between your assaults presented itself, he reached out and grabbed your wrists to stop you. And though your arms were now rendered motionless in his surprisingly strong yet gentle grip, that didn’t stop the way the two of you continued to sway and teeter with laughter in your seats like a couple of kids who didn’t know how to handle their liquor. Every time you tried to yank your wrists away to smack him again his grip just kept stopping you short, and soon you were leaning forward and doubling over with laughter while mentally clutching your aching stomach since your hands were momentarily bound.

Though it was when you tossed your head back afterwards to let out another open-mouthed laugh that you suddenly lost your balance on the small leather stool you were sitting on. You felt the wooden legs wobble on the floor beneath you, your body swaying and almost falling backwards off the chair if it weren’t for the strong grip Tae still had on you. He caught you at the last second and quickly tugged you up, the action causing you to almost fall again but this time forward and into his lap.

The solid strength in his arms acted as a sturdy wall that halted you from tumbling all the way on top of him, though he didn’t stop you soon enough in your opinion, because soon you were looking up and realizing that your faces were mere inches from each other.

Your wide eyes were mirrored back to you in his similar expression, the laughter and amusement now replaced with a heavier tension that seemed to crackle with electricity between you. And if you thought his eyes were intense before, it was nothing compared to the overwhelming sensation of seeing them up close.

You gulped in hopes of moistening your drying mouth, though there seemed to be a lump in your throat the size of a golf ball and still growing in size. No matter how much you willed yourself to move, you couldn’t; it was as if you were an insect trapped in the web of a spider. All range of motion was completely lost as you were rendered helpless under his gaze.

It was when you noticed him glance down at your lips that your breath hitched and lodged in your throat to join the lump still there like a bolder that refused to move; as if you needed anything else obstructing your airways other than the heat that was emanating between you at a temperature so stifling it was hard to breathe. And despite everything in you screaming at yourself, you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips as well now that you were painfully aware he was doing the same.

You felt your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you stared for a moment too long. It was just the alcohol talking—of course it was; the term beer goggles was a thing, after all—but the strength of the sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss him startled you even in your intoxicated state. Never had a pair of lips looked so enticingly smooth and pink before; the contrast against his golden skin seemed to make him glow beneath the warm lighting of the dimly lit bar. And just when you were about to lean in and give in to your desires, your body trembling with every nerve ending on fire to just taste him already—

“Y/N! I didn’t realize you were still here.”

You blinked out of your reverie and stopped yourself from going further (and doing something you know you’d regret), if only because the voice approaching the two of you was one you were very, very familiar with.

Your pulse quickened for a completely different reason than before as you ripped your eyes away from Tae to focus on Seokjin as if you’d just been caught doing something you shouldn’t have, though you didn’t know why you felt that way. It’s not like Seokjin was interested in you with Mijoo on his arm.

You stammered like a fish out of water while your mind frantically tried to play catch-up after what felt like being trapped in quicksand for hours under Tae’s gaze. “U-uh, hey!” You forced a cheerful smile with a voice two octaves higher than your natural pitch. A nervous chuckle fell from your lips as you tried to put as much space between you and Tae as possible while avoiding the younger man’s eye.

“I was beginning to think you’d left for the night,” Seokjin smiled none-the-wiser of your flustered state.

“Yeah I’ve just been, um, here at the bar the whole time...” you trailed off as you glanced around and accidentally met Tae’s dark eyes seemingly blown out (though it could just be the dim lighting) yet furrowed with a somewhat curious and questioning expression while he watched you.

You swallowed, your heart rate shooting to astronomical heights. You needed to get out of here, and fast. “Which– I should probably really get going,” you tried to manage another painful chuckle as you slid down from your stool, thankfully remembering to grab your planner this time.

“Aw, no!” Seokjin lightheartedly protested with a pout, though it was Tae who stood from his seat to place a gentle hand on your back. The sensation had you feeling lightheaded and wobbling.

“Do you want me to get you a cab?” He murmured in a voice so low that it wrapped around your spine like a thick velvet blanket and made you want to get out of here that much faster.

You weren’t sure if he offered because of your drunken state or if he remembered what happened last weekend when you tried to hail your own taxi, but either way you weren’t about to stay a second longer in his presence. Especially not alone—who knew what your inebriated state might make you do. You made a mental note not to get drunk around him again.

“No, no, I can do it myself.” You quickly waved him off before stepping away from his searing touch, wanting to completely forget about him and this feeling as you said goodbye to your boss and left before either one of you could do anything else.

At least you had your planner this time. Now there wasn’t an excuse for you to ever see him again.

“We’re getting married!”

“What?!”

It was another Monday morning of work, and what you thought would be the same, usual Monday morning as always turned out to be most certainly not.

“Yes!” Mijoo mistook your shocked outburst as one of excitement, her hand lifting from its place on Seokjin’s chest to instead wiggle her fingers at you. The giant rock on her ring finger caught on the sunlight flooding in from the windows and caused it to glint with a blinding sparkle.

As if you needed any extra spectacle to rub salt in the wound.

You could barely speak at the rate in which your throat was closing up; it felt like you had a shellfish allergy and had just dumped a bucket of shrimp down your esophagus.

“That’s amazing!” Yerin was the one to jump to your rescue. Thankfully your best friend had been standing by your side when the news was dropped like an atomic bomb straight to your gut and was able to swoop in before your prolonged silence became noticeably suspicious. “Congratulations, both of you.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin grinned, the spitting image of happiness with his arm wrapped around Mijoo’s—his fiancé’s—waist. His eyes slid from Yerin’s to yours as if awaiting your reaction.

Your pulse sped up under his scrutiny. “I… I-“ A strained stutter was all that would leave your lips. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“She’s so ecstatic that she’s speechless,” Yerin looked from you to the happy couple with a charming laugh that smoothed over any awkwardness your behavior could cause.

“C-congratulations,” you somehow managed after a deliberate gulp in a poor attempt to quench your parched mouth. “Excuse me.”

As soon as you said your obligatory felicitation you booked it out of there, making a beeline for the restrooms before you could make an even bigger fool out of yourself.

Tears involuntarily sprung to your eyes. God, this was so stupid. You were a grown woman crying over a man you’d never had—a man you knew you would never have to begin with. You were better than this! You were a strong, intelligent woman with a good head on your shoulders. But the more you thought about the fact that not only were Seokjin and Mijoo together, they also planned on being together forever, the more you broke down.

You used to be so excited to go into work. Back when you first started working as Seokjin’s assistant, you would look forward to starting your morning each day knowing that he would be there, and that would somehow make all the other bullshit you had to deal with throughout the job worth it.

But now you hardly wanted to even get out of bed, much less see the newly engaged couple.

You had to pull yourself together. This was your boss, not some romantic fling you actually thought you stood a chance with. You’d known from the start that you couldn’t be together—had actively avoided it actually for the sake of ethics. What did you expect, for him to just never get married? He was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. It was only a matter of time before he became seriously involved with someone.

You just wished that someone could’ve been you.

After composing yourself and eventually exiting the restroom, planning to head back to your office and keep your head down for the rest of the day to avoid running into anyone—specifically two people in particular.

“Y/N!”

Your effort was immediately futile as the familiar sound of your name being called in a warm tone had your heart skipping a beat out of habit, though you mentally scolded yourself once you remembered the reality of the situation. He was getting married now. You had to stop pining over him.

Though that was a feat that seemed impossible as you stepped into his office and looked upon his shining face.

It took you a moment to notice Mijoo was standing by his side—a sight that had your stomach sinking.

“I know we aren’t really close,” Mijoo was the first to speak, taking a step forward with a kind smile, “but we’ve always been friends around the office and I’ve always liked you.”

“And I know you’ve always been into planning weddings…” Seokjin trailed off before glancing at his fiancé.

She beamed back before refocusing on you. “So we both thought: how would you like to be a bridesmaid?”

You were speechless for the second time that day. “F-for you?”

“Of course, silly! Who else?” They both shared a chuckle.

You had no idea what to do. On one hand, you wanted to hate her; she was marrying the love of your life, after all. But on another much more logical and reasonable hand, you never realized she considered the two of you friends enough for you to even be in her wedding. You were awful; she was perfectly nice and sweet, and you let jealousy cloud your judgment. You couldn’t feel more guilty.

It was because of this that you begrudgingly relented.

“Sure,” you found yourself saying before you could stop yourself. How could you say no?

“Okay good, because…” she shared a look of excitement and anticipation with Seokjin that made you uneasy, “we’re getting married in three weeks!”

You were left stunned once again, unable to keep your eyes from popping out of your head in shock even if you wanted to. “Wait, what?”

“Well, we both really wanted a Christmas wedding…” Seokjin trailed off as he gazed down at Mijoo.

“And the venue we want had a last minute cancellation so they can squeeze us in!” They continued to finish each other’s sentences like some sort of twisted Frozen parody.

You blinked, dumbstruck and unable to make sense of the whirlwind of stormy emotions within you. “W-why the rush?”

Mijoo looked back over at Seokjin, the love between them obvious in their eyes as they gazed at each other before she continued. “We both know we want to be together, so we figured, why wait?”

You attempted a futile swallow past the growing lump in your throat that settled like a weight in your stomach.

You were going to be sick.

But instead of puking the contents of your lunch all over the office floor, you simply nodded your head with some semblance of a smile. What else could you do?

“Now the theme is winter wonderland; we want all the tables to be covered with white satin to match the white tulle draped from the ceiling.”

You were accompanying Mijoo to one of her favorite stores inside the mall to look at linens for the upcoming wedding. And if you were being honest, as fucked as this situation was, you did absolutely love wedding planning, and in your opinion this was the best time of year to do it.

Countless decorations lined the interior of the mall: garland wrapped around the columns with satin red bows, a giant Christmas tree stretching the height of three stories towering over your heads, its twinkling lights illuminating the shoppers with an effervescent glow of holiday cheer. You practically had to lock arms to keep from losing one another in the throngs of children lined up for a chance to sit on Santa’s lap and get their picture taken. And since Seokjin wasn’t joining the outing today, you were almost able to forget who it was that Mijoo was marrying as the two of you gushed in excitement about themes and wedding gowns like you’d been best friends for years.

Almost.

“Now I know you said you wanted red accents, but what was your secondary color again? Gold?” You asked her as you sifted through an assortment of ribbons.

“Mrs. Kim Mijoo.”

All of a sudden a voice sounded from the entrance, one that was deep and curled around your spine with the edges of a smile, strangely familiar and nagging at the back of your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

A cold fear struck you right where you stood, the sound of Mijoo squealing in excitement and rushing towards the voice being the only thing that shook you from your rigid state as your eyes followed her movements towards the store’s entrance.

Standing there in all of his annoying glory with his arms wrapped around Mijoo as she greeted him with an enthusiastic hug, was none other than the fucking wedding crasher.

“Well it’s not Kim Mijoo yet, but soon enough!” She giggled once she parted from the embrace.

You blinked, your mind struggling to catch up with the scene unfolding before your eyes right now.

“Um, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Your blunt outburst caused both parties to look over at you, Tae’s eyes falling on yours for the first time since your drunken almost-kiss at the bar.

“Y/N, this is Kim Taehyung. He’s the writer of the weddings column in the Sunday paper!” Mijoo smiled, oblivious to the inner turmoil whipping through you. “He called me and offered to cover our wedding for his latest article. Isn’t that amazing?”

And suddenly it was like you were having tunnel vision, your world turning upside down as your mind scrambled to pick up the pieces of everything you ever thought you knew about the man standing in front of you.

Kim Taehyung… weddings column… he couldn’t be…

Your expression must’ve morphed into that of sheer surprise and realization, because a knowing grin soon tugged at his annoyingly enticing lips.

“What the fuck… that’s you?!”

The writer of Matrimony Mementos, your favorite section of the paper that you read every Monday morning at work, was none other than Tae, the one person you couldn’t stand more than anything in this world.

This was impossible. The author of Matrimony Mementos was Kim Taehyung, a refined and esteemed writer and lover of weddings, not this… this… marriage hater! This man who only took advantage of people’s kindness and mooched off of their special day!

“You lied to me!” You couldn’t help but screech.

“Ah ah, I said I was a writer. Not a lie,” he was quick to point out.

Rage filled you from the inside out, leaving you a spluttering mess as you tried to put your tumultuous thoughts into words. “You said your name was Tae!”

“It is—short for Taehyung.” His voice was annoyingly calm, but not without that signature smug edge to it as he clasped his hands in front of him. He was eating this up! “Tae is my nickname.”

No, it couldn’t be. This man was nothing but a freeloader! This didn’t make sense!

“What about the wedding we met at?” You fired back, desperate to catch him in a lie. “The bride said she didn’t know you.”

And as if his sole purpose was to irk you, he had a logical answer for every single thing you threw at him. “I was hired by her sister to write a surprise piece on her wedding.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to curse this man and hit him with your planner and never see his stupid, smug face again.

“…I take it you two know each other,” Mijoo chimed in with an awkward chuckle, and you only just then remembered her presence next to Tae—Taehyung. Ugh.

“We’ve met once or twice,” a smirk quirked on his lips as he never took his eyes off you.

“We don’t know each other,” you barked at Mijoo, throwing one last glare his way before stalking off down the aisles of the store.

This couldn’t be happening. You refused to believe your favorite writer, the person you looked up to for years who always made you swoon over his poetic prose and romantic outlook on matrimony as a whole, turned out to be him of all people. You felt like one of those kids who waited hours in line to meet Santa Clause, only for his white beard to fall off and end up being just some drunk who worked at the liquor store. Why was this happening to you? Why did the universe want to see you suffer?

“I take it you’re not used to being wrong.” That same stupid deep voice danced up your spine and made your fists clench and your shoulders bunch up with tension.

You turned to glance behind you with grit teeth to see that Taehyung was leaning towards you with a hint of amusement playing on his features. The faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne filled your senses and made you quickly snap your head forward again and walk away faster.

“I wasn’t wrong,” you stubbornly denied without looking at him. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie!” A jovial chuckle of disbelief left his lips.

“Yeah, well you left out the truth! You let me believe you’re something you’re not!” You spun around to hiss in his face, your quick actions causing him to come to a halt much closer than you were expecting. His face was mere inches from yours, but you were too angry to notice or care. “That’s still lying!”

He shrugged, and it’s as if he knew his nonchalant attitude would only work you up even further. “Not my fault that you jumped to conclusions about who I was. Maybe if you didn’t judge a book by its cover, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“You…!” You grit your teeth and gripped the air with your fingers as if strangling his neck. You’ve never met someone more infuriating!

His tongue slipped out to wet his lips as if he knew the action would draw your attention, and you only glanced down at his lips for .5 seconds before you were whipping around and storming off back down the aisle after your blood seemed to rise to a sudden boil.

Screw him. So what if he is—was your favorite writer? You wanted nothing to do with him.

Not then, not now, not ever.

Unfortunately, now that Kim Taehyung was working the same wedding that you promised Seokjin and Mijoo you would not only be the bridesmaid but you would also help plan, that meant you had to see him everywhere whether you wanted to or not.

And when you said everywhere, you meant everywhere—every appointment, every catering restaurant and bridal showcase and dress shopping trip. Since he was covering their wedding he had to know the ins and outs of the entire process, and because you agreed to help plan the event that meant there was absolutely no avoiding him.

Now that didn’t mean that you couldn’t try, but try as you might, the effort was still futile as you were certain the world was out to get you when you saw Taehyung on your one day off.

It was Sunday, a day that would usually be spent helping the happy couple now instead being filled with the city’s Christmas cheer battering your senses on account of Mijoo having an impromptu outing with her mother. The older woman had just arrived in town for the wedding that would be happening in a couple weeks and demanded a mother-daughter day to be shown the venue, dress, and all other expenses that’d been planned in her absence.

Not that you were complaining—you were in desperate need of a break from seeing Seokjin and Mijoo together, if not for your sanity then for your heart’s sake. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep up the fake smile plastered on your face whenever the two of them acted grossly in love, but you deserved an academy award for your acting. Even just the mental image of the way Seokjin’s eyes lit up whenever he gazed at her was enough to make you want to cry.

That being said, you also loved Christmas—almost as much as you loved weddings. The two events had much in common when it came to merriment and making loved ones feel special. It was that mushy, cheesy, feel-good kind of happiness that you loved to submerge yourself in, if not for yourself than for the sake of others. Giving presents and delivering holiday cheer was your favorite way to spend this time of year.

Which was how you found yourself downtown in the middle of your city’s square. The area was sectioned off to make room for the Christmas festival that lasted pretty much the entire season. There were stalls selling hot cocoa and other delicious treats, a Santa booth where kids could meet and take pictures, and an extravagantly decorated ice skating rink, just to name a few of the fun activities the city provided for its residents.

As you walked through the square you blew into your steaming hot cup of coffee that warmed your hands through the fur of your mittens, your face chilled from the winter air though you didn’t mind while you admired the sights around you with a small smile. Children’s laughter filled the atmosphere as they raced down a nearby hill on wooden sleds, the whole affair looking as if it came straight out of a hallmark movie. You loved it.

“Well well well, look who it is.”

Your wonderful mood suddenly came crashing down as you spun around to come face to face with the parasite that seemed to be stuck to your side like a leech no matter how hard you tried to rid yourself of him.

“Just the person I wanted to see, actually.” That dumb charming smile played on his lips as Taehyung approached you with his hands clasped behind his back.

You hated how good he looked, even bundled up like frosty the damn snowman. His wool scarf was tucked into a black lapel coat that almost reached his knees, cheeks and nose and lips tinged pink from the frigid temperature though it somehow only made his appearance that much more distracting.

“Jesus christ, do you ever go away?” You fought the groan swelling within your throat as your eyes rolled heavenward.

“You and I both know I have to be around for the wedding.” He cocked his brow at you as if he was surprised to hear you thought otherwise. “I’m doing my job.”

You still couldn’t believe that he was the Matrimony Mementos writer Kim Taehyung. God, every time you thought about it–

You shook your head to brush the thought away before it angered you all over again. “Yes, but what are you doing here, right now?” There wasn’t anything planned for the wedding today, and he knew it. “Are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” a sound akin to a scoff left his mouth as he shook his head and stepped closer to you. “I was just making my way across town for some lunch when I stumbled upon you in this hell hole of a festival.” His face scrunched in distaste as he looked around at the holiday decorations and festivities. “Trust me, I’m not here by choice.”

A humorless laugh of surprise left your lips. “Not only are you a wedding hater, but you hate Christmas too? Who are you, the grinch? Do you also steal candy from babies?”

“Only the candy worth stealing.” His expression was deadpan though there was a teasing twinkle in his eye.

You shook your head and began walking away from him. “I don’t need your cynicism putting a damper on my day off.”

“Let me guess, you love Christmas the same way you love weddings.” He was following you of course.

“And so what if I do?” You didn’t turn around or stop walking when you responded.

“Nothing, it’s just very on brand for you.”

You cut your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh you know, the whole ‘sunshine and rainbows, everything has to be perfect and love makes the world go around’ type of thing you have going on.”

You scoffed. “You make me sound naïve.”

He shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

“It’s not naïve to want people to be happy!” You whipped around to face him.

“Not everything is about happiness!” He fired back just as passionately. “It’s not the only emotion that matters. Without pain and sadness and anger, joy would be meaningless!”

“Of course other emotions exist; why do you think I strive so hard for happiness? There’s too much pain in the world as it is to not embrace happiness every chance that we get!”

“It’s just not realistic! There’s a difference between embracing happiness when it comes to you and living with your head in the clouds.”

“I do not have my head in the clouds!” You could hardly believe that you even had to defend yourself. “What’s wrong with wanting to create those moments of happiness for others to embrace? God, I’ve never met anyone so self-minded!”

You stormed off again, not willing to listen to another ridiculous word from his mouth. God, all he ever did was piss you off. Now you were stomping through the festival, probably scaring the townspeople like some sort of scrooge.

“Y/N, wait–”

Just as he was tugging on your arm and pulling you back to face him, a snowball the size of a small child launched into your back and knocked you forward with such force that you would’ve fallen onto your face had it not been for Tae’s chest breaking your fall. He stumbled under the weight of your collision, knees buckling until you were both tumbling to the ground with his back against the snow-covered grass and you on top of him.

Your groans of pain sounded in unison, the wind thoroughly knocked from both of you as you struggled to catch your breath. Once you did, however, you were quickly realizing the alarming position in which the two of you had landed.

“Oh my god,” you blurted before scrambling to your feet as quickly as you could manage, desperately trying to stop your senses from being enveloped by Taehyung’s scent or how every fiber of your being was alit with flames when you felt his body against yours. Flashbacks of your almost-kiss at the bar replayed in your mind now that your face had been mere inches from his again.

You brushed yourself off at a frantic pace as if that would somehow cleanse you.

“What the hell?” Taehyung grumbled with a wince, his ears bright red and his face flushed though you chalked up the sudden color to him just being cold after having landed in the snow. He sat up with his legs stretched out in front of him and rubbed the back of his head.

You suddenly realized how hard he had fallen. “Shit, are you okay?”

As you bent down to check him over, the sound of victorious laughter filled your ears. You both turned to see a group of kids no older than 12 years old giggling and cheering amongst themselves as they watched the two of you.

You then glanced down to see a giant lump of fallen snow on the ground right where you had gotten hit. “Snowball fight,” you spoke aloud as the kids bent down and continued to make more of them in the snow.

“What?” Taehyung craned his neck to look at the white powder now covering the back of your coat, and when he did, another snowball (much smaller in size than your monstrous assailant) went flying through the air and nailed him right in the leg.

“They have good aim.” Your brows raised, impressed.

You half expected him to scare the children away with a few choice words and a hearty roar. After all, it wouldn’t be far-fetched for someone who hated marriage and Christmas to also hate kids. But to your surprise, a grin sprang to his lips with a playful glint in his eye as he jumped up and began making a snowball of his own.

“Oh, it’s on!” He yelled to them, their squeals of frightened delight filling the small park while they all ran in different directions to take off behind the trees. “Snowball fight!” He bellowed as he took off after them.

You watched in stunned silence at the scene unfolding in front of you until something solid suddenly impacted your arm. A sound of surprise escaped you, eyes darting in the direction the snowball came from before you spotted a little girl peeking out from behind a tree trunk. Her eyes danced with mirth while she waited for your reaction.

You glanced from her to the snow at your feet, and then across the park to where Tae was enthusiastically chasing a group of boys with a giant block of ice in his hands. You couldn’t explain the smile that started to grow on your lips or the warmth in your chest. So instead of trying to make sense of it, you did the only thing you could do in that moment, which was reach down and mold a compact ball of snow in your mittens before hurling it at the little girl.

Her features lit up in an elated scream as she dashed away from her hiding spot and deeper into the park. You quickly gathered another handful of snow before chasing after her with a chuckle. This was what you loved about your city; no matter how big or busy or chaotic the hustle and bustle was, the community always found ways to come together as if you were a district of 100 people rather than 100,000.

You took your chance and threw the snowball at the little girl once you saw an open shot, but the landing fell short as you weaved your way throughout the scattered trees and bushes. She giggled and scurried deeper into the foliage, and as you followed her you heard the sounds of the rest of the kids getting louder, as well as a very familiar voice you didn’t think you could get out of your head even if you wanted to.

“There you are!” Tae’s deep voice held more happiness than you’d ever heard, his lips upturned in a constant open-mouthed smile as he pointed at the boys with an aha! expression before chucking his block of ice. It barely missed them as they scampered behind a tree, instead slamming into the trunk and exploding into powdery chunks on its way to the ground.

“Oh shit,” Taehyung murmured with wide eyes, and you would’ve found it comical that he was taking this childish game so seriously had it not been for his sudden tug on your wrist. “Follow me!” He cried as a snowball whizzed past your head.

You turned over your shoulder to look at the group of boys who now had you as their target, their features sneering with mischief as they knelt on the ground and began making an arsenal of snow. Your expression matched Taehyung’s as you quickly booked it after him; these kids were ruthless!

You were still running when another tug on your wrist had you unceremoniously yanked down behind a blockade of shrubbery. The sound of startled surprise that escaped you was soon smothered by Tae’s hand against your mouth, and when your eyes met his he put the index finger of his free hand to his lips telling you to stay quiet.

Your expression was that of a deer caught in headlights, you were sure of it. The feeling of Tae’s palm still against your mouth stirred something deep, something foreign within the pit of your stomach that you weren’t sure you could make sense of even if you tried. Why weren’t you pushing him away yet? Do something, Y/N! But the longer you crouched behind this bush with him the more aware you became of how close in proximity the two of you actually were, and how his chest was rising and falling erratically from all the physical exertion of running around the park, and if you focused on it you could just barely make out the sensation of his heavy breaths falling against your skin-

You yanked yourself away from his touch, making to stand up and put as much distance between you two as physically possible if only for your pounding heart’s sake, before he quickly yanked you back down again and pressed his hand against to top of your head to lower you from view over the top of the bush.

“They’ll see you!” He quickly hissed out, and though he was definitely taking this game way too seriously, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow twice in size at the excitement and enjoyment dancing within his sparkling eyes. You had the perfect view of them, his hand staying atop your head to keep you from moving so you had nowhere to look but at him, and you took the opportunity to allow yourself to examine his features in a way you wouldn’t normally otherwise in any other situation.

Your gaze swept from the silk of his lashes peaking out beneath the dark mop of curls skimming his eyes and dusting the tops of his cheekbones to the strong, smooth curvature of his nose that you never noticed had a small freckle on the tip and the flawlessly satin plush of his unfairly pink lips that you’d certainly gotten an eyeful of more than you’d care to admit over the course of your time spent together.

Heated fear spiked within you when you glanced back up to his eyes and noticed they were on you; you’d been caught staring. Though what originally stemmed into embarrassment now transformed into something else entirely that licked devilishly at the base of your core. His dark eyes were like pools of black tar, sucking you into their depths without any means of escaping as they found yours and held you captive in a stare that only escalated the intensity you felt swarming your insides.

You hated how attractive he was, as much as you’d been fighting the thought ever since you’d met. But you couldn’t ignore it any longer; there was something so enticing, so alluring about him that had your body drawn to him like a moth to a flame despite everything in you screaming in disagreement. You didn’t want him! You were in love with Seokjin! Though as you continued to sit there, your bodies so close they were almost pressed together and the sound of his breath panting softly by your ear, the more your resolve to fight the internal battle within yourself grew weaker and weaker until you were almost nothing but a powdered memory of a once-tightly constructed snowball scattered helplessly across the icy winter floor.

He was going to ruin you.

“Gotcha!” A juvenile scream from one of the boys sounded nearby, and before you knew what was happening a burst of snow shattered against both you and Tae’s heads.

Your mouth hung open in unadulterated shock, a gasp of disbelief falling from your lips in the form of a single chuckle as Taehyung laughed heartily next to you and shook his head to let the snowflakes fall from his curls.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that!” He grinned, and the kids ran off with another scream while he jumped up and chased after them.

You, however, stayed stunned where you sat while your brain desperately tried to catch up to what just happened.

What the hell was that?

Taehyung knocked on his boss’s door before letting himself in after her approval.

“There you are,” the older woman took her glasses off and smiled as if she was the one who’d summoned him even though he was seeking her out on his own accord. “Just the man I was looking for. How’s your article coming along?”

Upon her request, he’d sent her a rough draft of what he has so far of his unfinished work. She had surprisingly loved it, though Taehyung was having mixed feelings.

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” He closed the door before walking further into her office, his usual charming grin nowhere to be seen today. “I don’t think I can continue with this piece.”

His boss’s expression didn’t even flinch as she turned back to her computer. “Funny, Taehyung.”

“No, I’m serious.”

It was his tone of voice that had her pausing and looking at him with parted lips as if she couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. “You’re writing it.”

“I don’t want to anymore.” He started to pace around the room, his feelings towards the decision growing more passionate at her disapproval. “She’s… there’s more to her than just this perpetual bridesmaid. I– I can’t keep writing this piece.” He stopped his movements and looked at her with a shake of his head. “I can’t do that to her.”

“Aw,” his boss cooed in a condescending tone before rising to her her feet and stepping out from behind her desk. “If I didn’t know you better I’d say you’ve developed a little crush.”

The tips of his ears turned red at her statement.

“However, I do know you better than that.” She stopped in front of him before pressing the printed copy of his rough draft that she’d made edits to on his chest. “We’re not scrapping the story, Taehyung.”

“Okay, well– what if I made a few changes to it? Switched the direction of things.” He gripped the papers in his hands as he followed her out of her office and through the throng of cubicles. “Instead of painting her in the light of someone who will never be a bride, I could focus on her dedication to providing for others despite asking for nothing in return.”

“Sounds boring,” his boss instantly dismissed the idea. “The piece is great as it is; you’ve done good! Please, don’t go screwing things up and just be happy with what you’ve got.” She shot him one last look before disappearing down another corridor, leaving Taehyung coming to a stop with a sigh of defeat.

“Ooh babe, come try the strawberry one. It’s delicious!”

The four of you were at a bakery trying out different desserts to be served at the reception. You were currently glancing away in pain and slight aversion while Mijoo hand fed a bite of cake to Seokjin on her fork, the couple so obnoxiously in love that it would be off-putting to anyone, much less to you. Sorrow began to consume you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes like the slow effects of a poison as you watched them giggle and grin like they were the only two people in the entire world.

“That’s disgusting.”

You snapped your head over to see Tae coming to a stop beside you, his full attention on the couple as well.

You blinked up at him with big eyes, wondering if it wasn’t just your clouded judgement that painted the pair in a negative light. “What?”

“The cake.” He then glanced over to return your gaze. “The strawberry flavor is atrocious.” Upon seeing your expression, he raised a quizzical brow. “What did you think I meant?”

You quickly faced forward again, your cheeks inflamed to match the hole you were now burning into the couple with your eyes. “N-nothing,” you avoided his questioning look.

“You know,” after a few moments he spoke again, and when your gaze found his he had a mischievously sly smirk on his lips, “if you weren’t so bitter towards me, I’d say there’s something between us.”

You almost spluttered, your body temperature instantly rising before you brushed his words off with a roll of your eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it.” He leaned in closer.

A nervous chuckle escaped you. “Feel what?”

“This...” he took a slow, cautious step even closer as if giving you time to move away if you wanted to, “spark,” he finished.

You didn’t move.

You didn’t even think you took a breath, for that matter. All oxygen was rendered useless and caught in your throat as you couldn’t help but fixate on his close proximity, on the way his scent enveloped your senses and his boyish features took up your field of vision and the way he was so close, so close that your skin was tingling with the anticipation of touching him and yet you couldn’t feel a thing.

You wanted to scoff, wanted to laugh in his face and tell him he was crazy for even assuming there was anything other than pure unadulterated hatred between the two of you. But the fact of the matter was, you couldn’t. You became consumed, intoxicated every time he was near. What the hell was with that?

“Oh, Y/N, come here!”

It was embarrassing how quickly you perked up at the sound of your boss’s voice. You snapped out of the weird trance Taehyung’s presence had put you in, though you couldn’t quite shake the after effects of the fog he left your mind in.

When you tore your eyes away, you saw that Seokjin held his fork towards you, a new piece of strawberry cake on it. “You have to try this one!”

“S-sure!” Your voice wavered in nervous jitters when you realized he intended to feed you from his own fork, desperately hoping he didn’t notice the sudden flush of your cheeks.

You took a step closer and kept your eyes steadily on his, blinking up at him from beneath your lashes before parting your lips. He gingerly placed his fork into your mouth and instantly your tastebuds were assaulted with what had to be the sweetest artificially-flavored crap you’d ever had in your life.

Taehyung wasn’t lying; this strawberry flavor was disgusting.

But when you looked up at Seokjin’s expression, so full of excitement and hope and expectation of your hearty agreement, you just couldn’t disappoint him. It was as if your tongue had a mind of its own.

“It’s delicious,” you lied in a love-sick daze, if only to see his eyes sparkle the way he was looking at you now. You knew the dreamy smile on your face must’ve been embarrassing, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “I love it.”

“Yes! I knew you would,” he flashed you his winning grin. “You always have the best opinions.”

You couldn’t stop the flush of your cheeks or involuntary giggle that tumbled from your lips even if you wanted to. “Oh, stop.” You swatted his chest in a playful manner, not realizing how flirty the action was.

Seokjin, of course, never noticed. “Hey babe,” the speed in which he turned away from you to Mijoo, who had been conversing with the head baker, gave you whiplash. “We just found our wedding cake.”

“Oh my god,” Mijoo gushed, wrapped up in the excitement of finally coming to a decision on what would be a major part of the most important day of their lives together. And in the heat of the moment, they didn’t hesitate to embrace in a strong, tender kiss.

You didn’t know why you still let yourself get your hopes up when they just continuously crashed through the floor. God, every moment you saw the two of them together you just felt more foolish than the last. This was your own personal hell, you were sure of it.

Your feelings must’ve been written all over your face, because when you looked away in dejection your eyes caught Tae’s who was staring at you with knit brows and a slight frown.

You stiffened under his unexpected scrutiny. Why was he looking at you like that? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say there were hints of confusion, realization, and… hurt morphed onto his expression.

But that was ridiculous; you knew you had to be paranoid and overthinking things. There’s no way he could catch on to your feelings for Seokjin after just one simple interaction, right?

You tried to shake your mind free from the reminder of just how easily Tae was able to peg your character on the nose. You barely even knew each other when he was calling you out on all of your personal flaws at the bar that night of your work party. Though you knew that had to be chalked up to plain luck. It was a good guess, that’s all.

There was nothing to be worried about.

So why did you feel so conflicted?

The first sip of Chardonnay felt cool on your tongue as it seeped past your lips, the taste of wine refreshing after a long and tiring week of juggling wedding plans on top of your already heavy workload filled with clients.

It was a little over a week before the wedding, which meant that things were in crunch time. You were out with Mijoo and Seokjin almost every single day after work, and the days that you weren’t you were running around making calls and finalizing details that the couple themselves hadn’t been able to do. You even had to go to the bridal shop Mijoo bought her dress from and try it on in her place to make sure it fit after alterations. “It will be fine, we’re the same size!” Mijoo had quickly reassured you while she was off at a salon consultation instead.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement, and that didn’t even include the taxing emotional toll all of this had on you thanks to your unrequited feelings. You definitely needed a break, and you definitely earned this glass of Chardonnay on a Friday night alone in your apartment.

In fact, that was the exact position you were in, reclining on your couch with your feet on the coffee table while you read the city’s holiday events in the newspaper (you would normally be reading Matrimony Mementos, but ever since finding out Tae was the actual writer behind the beautifully spun lies, you hadn’t been able to look at an article since), when you heard a knock on your door.

Your initial reaction was not to get up, but instead to glance at the door with confusion and a cocked brow. You weren’t expecting company tonight—especially not out in the snowstorm that was currently happening. Could it be Yerin? God, please don’t let it be Mijoo coming to drop off yet another errand for you to run for her. She already made you deliver the bridesmaid dresses to the tailors because “they were longer than she was expecting”. You didn’t think you’d ever be saying this, but this woman was officially wedding-ing you out. And for you to feel that way, that was saying something.

Eventually you left the comfort of your cushions and scurried to the door, a quick peek out of the peephole making a groan emit from your lips despite the subtle increase in your heart rate, which you ignored.

It was Taehyung.

“Can I help you?” You called out without opening the door, annoyance evident in your tone.

He rocked back and forth on his heels, his hands in his pockets and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he almost appeared nervous.

“Uh, it’s me. Tae.” When his words were met with silence, he scratched the back of his neck. “Can you please open the door?”

“Why should I?” You countered stubbornly.

“Because I need to talk to you.” There was a sigh that left his lips. “It’s about the wedding, I– I need to interview all the friends and family.”

“An interview that could’ve happened over the phone,” you pointed out. “How’d you even get my address?”

“Seokjin gave it to me.”

God, curse Seokjin and his oblivious, blind trust.

Really, you knew you were going to end up letting him inside as much of a bad idea as it probably was. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to give him a hard time. You were still angry at him for lying to you.

“Come on, please will you just open the door?” He ran a hand through his shaggy curls, which you just now noticed appeared to be wet. It was hard to tell through the peephole, though. “I just fought my way through a blizzard to get here.”

You rolled your eyes before finally relenting, a small part of you feeling bad for the trouble he must’ve gone through in this weather. When you unlocked the door and swung it open, you met his lopsided grin with a deadpan expression of your own.

“It looks like the blizzard did a number on you. Need someone to bandage your wounds?” You scoffed before stepping away to let him inside.

“Please, you should see the other guy.” He chuckled as he walked past you into your apartment.

When he turned back to face you, it was hard to ignore the way heat rose within you under his scorching gaze that ran over the length of your body.

“Cute pajamas,” was all he said.

You glanced down at the fuzzy sweatpants and oversized tshirt you were currently wearing, your lack of bra suddenly making you self-consciously flustered in his presence.

“What do you want?” You snapped, folding your arms over your chest.

You watched as he shook his head like a wet dog. “Well for starters, not to be so wet. I don’t think you can help out with that though,” he winked.

You let out a groan at yet another one of his sexual innuendos before noticing the growing puddle that was forming at his feet from his dripping clothes. “Oh my god, not on the hardwood!” You scolded before pushing him back onto the plush welcome mat by your door.

He shook his head to himself before removing his coat, the snowfall so heavy that it melted through the outerwear and soaked his white button down.

It was as if your eyes had a mind of their own; you couldn’t stop them from dragging over his frame and the way the see-through material of his shirt clung to his chest. You were just able to make out his golden tanned skin on the swell of his pectoral muscles and the toned expanse of his stomach that strained against the clothing as if dying to be freed from its confinements.

You fought to keep your mouth from falling open.

“L-let me get you a towel before you mess up my floors.” You hope he didn’t notice the slight waver in your voice.

He gave you a perplexed expression. “It’s just water.”

“Ever heard of water stains, genius?!” You snapped in a suspiciously defensive manner before practically fleeing to the other room in an attempt to get your shit together while you retrieved a clean towel. You also grabbed him the largest t-shirt you owned for him to change into. The last thing you needed was to be distracted the entire time he was here.

“H-here,” you all but shoved the items in his hands when you walked back over to him, careful to avoid looking at his torso and hoping he couldn’t see the way the heat within you had now crept to your cheeks. “Go get changed in the bathroom. I’ll put your wet clothes in the dryer.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said the words sarcastically with a charming grin, though they didn’t exactly help your internal issue.

As soon as he left the room you downed a gulp of wine. Not that you wanted to be intoxicated for his visit, but you were definitely going to need at least a glass to deal with all these feelings you couldn’t make sense of that were scrambling your insides like a jigsaw puzzle. What was happening to you? You hated this man. Why did he have this effect on you? Had the constant demands of the recent wedding planning finally gone to your head and made you delirious?

By the time Tae emerged from your bathroom, you’d already finished your first glass.

“Oh, are you drinking?”

When you turned to face him at the sound of his voice, you couldn’t help but fall speechless at the appearance of the plain white tee you had given him on his body. The shirt was actually Jimin’s, a friend from college who’d moved across the country to pursue his career. The last time he visited he’d accidentally left his clothes, and you had them washed and waiting for his return.

That was a year ago though, and you quickly noticed that Taehyung had a slightly larger build than your friend’s. The sleeves of the shirt subtly stretched around his biceps in a way that made your mouth run dry.

“What?” You blinked in delayed reaction to his question.

He gestured to your now-empty glass on the coffee table. “You’re drinking wine?”

“I was.” You thought forlornly of your alone time with a good book before he interrupted your evening.

“Why stop now?”

You eyed him skeptically. “Is that a trick question?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have a glass with you,” he offered as he took a seat on your couch. There was his usual upturn of a charming smirk on his lips. “I am a guest, after all.”

You snorted. “Hardly.” Still, with a roll of your eyes you grabbed your empty glass and took it into the kitchen for a refill, grabbing one for him as well. “I’ll ask again. What do you want?”

“I just want to ask you some questions. Like I said, I need to interview all of the friends and family.”

You shook your head to yourself, knowing it was never that simple with him, before taking the two glasses and the bottle of Chardonnay back into the living room and sitting down across from him on the couch.

“So why don’t you tell me a little bit about your relationship with Mijoo and Seokjin?” He reclined against the cushions, recorder in hand as he pressed the start button and took his first sip.

Well, this was a mistake.

“Um, well as you know, he’s my boss. I’m his personal assistant. I started working for him about three years ago…” …and I’ve been in love with him ever since, you automatically thought, though you would never dare voice that aloud. “And Mijoo is my coworker,” you continued if only to shake the thought from your head. “We’re friends from the office. We’ve been working together for about a year.”

An ugly, bitter emotion swelled in your chest at the thought of your work environment before Mijoo came into the picture; had Seokjin been interested in her right from the start? How had they even started dating? You wanted to know, but at the same time you didn’t. You knew the answer would only hurt.

“So would you say you’re closer to Seokjin than you are to Mijoo?”

“Yes,” you answered immediately without a second thought, the realization of your haste only hitting you afterwards and causing a heat to rise to your cheeks. “I work with him directly everyday; it’s impossible to not form a connection with someone in those circumstances.”

“Mm, right right.” There was an underlying knowing tone as if he could see right through you that pricked nervous panic at the base of your palms, but you tried to ignore it as he continued the interview.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about Seokjin and Mijoo?”

You blinked, not knowing where to start. “Um, well Mijoo is nice. Sweet, smart, everything you could want in a woman I suppose.” You hope he didn’t notice the slight jealousy threatening to take over your tone.

“And um, Seokjin?” Your thoughts trailed off, dreamy admiration starting to take over your senses before you eventually continued. “Seokjin is the most determined, hard working person I’ve ever met.” A small, fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “When he puts his mind to something, he never gives up. He has so much diligence and resilience and courage, and he’s so nice and sweet and just– just an all around good person. You can tell he really cares about his job. He really cares about the people. Clients love him; everyone loves him. There’s not a person who’s ever met him who doesn’t love him.” You were rambling at this point, you knew you were, but you couldn’t help yourself. You only hoped it wasn’t obvious that you’d begun talking about your own feelings towards him rather than in a general sense.

“Uh huh.” Taehyung took another sip. “And is that why you do?”

You awoke from your daze at his question. “Do what?”

“Is that why you love him?”

Panic suddenly collapsed onto you like an anchor out at sea. “Psh- wh- what? I don’t… I don’t love him.”

“Well you said so yourself, everyone loves him.” He arched a brow at you. “Does that mean you don’t like your boss?”

“No, no, of course I do.” You tried to reorganize your thoughts when you realized the context in which he meant the word love. Damn it Y/N, stop overthinking things! “I do… I do love him,” you fidgeted uncomfortably, “as a boss.”

“I never suggested anything else.” There was a dubious glint in his eye. “What, did you think I was asking if you had romantic feelings for your boss?”

You let out a single nervous laugh. “N-no, of course not! I just… it’s been a long day,” you settled on saying.

“Right…” you hoped you were mishearing the skepticism in his voice. “And what about you?”

You blinked. “What about me?”

“Are you doing this for them, or because of your personal role as wedding planner for every single person in the city?”

You scoffed at his words. “I don’t help out every single person in the city.”

“Oh yeah? How many total weddings have you been in?”

“I… I don’t know. A lot!” You were growing defensive from his judgement again. “My job introduces me to a lot of people, and I’m friends with not only my clients but Seokjin’s as well because they go directly through me. I go to people’s houses; I’m in people’s lives. I make a lot of friends that way, and they all know that I’m responsible and trustworthy.”

“Mhm, and that you can’t say no?”

“What?!”

“They all know that you can’t say no,” he repeated as if you couldn’t hear him the first time.

“I can say no!” You gasped. “I’ve said no to you countless times haven’t I?”

“I don’t mean like that; I don’t think you’ve said a single thing to me that weren’t fighting words.” There was mischief in his eyes as he shook his head. “I just mean when it comes to doing things for people. You put others before yourself to a fault!”

“I do not.” You answered firmly, though continued to squirm under his knowing stare. “I do not! How many times do we have to go over this?”

“As many times as it takes until you admit it.” His eyes twinkled over the rim of his glass at you. He really thought this was funny!

“Admit what?” You huffed in exasperation. “I told you I love weddings and that I love making people happy. It’s not my fault that you’re too cynical to understand caring about anyone else other than yourself.”

A twinge of something, an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint, crossed over his expression before it was gone in the next second. “I do care about some other people,” he defended calmly, “just not any ol’ person who walks up to me and asks for a favor. That’s how you get taken advantage of.”

You balked. “I’m not getting taken advantage of! Everything I do, I choose to do willingly.”

“So you really don’t think people take advantage of your kindness even a little bit? The way you like to please people?” He leaned in with a squint of his eyes.

“I don’t need your condescension,” you scoffed. You knew, somehow, this innocent interview would turn into an argument. “I care about the people I help. Do you not have people you would do anything for?”

A subdued, almost pensive expression took over Taehyung’s features. “Not anyone who’s eligible to get married, no.”

You raised a skeptical brow at his elusive response. “Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?”

He simply shrugged. “You know, family members. Nieces and nephews and whatnot.”

Your other brow lifted as well into a surprised expression. “Nieces and nephews, plural? How many do you have?”

“Well I have three sisters, and they each have one or more kids.”

“Damn.” You sucked in your breath. “So either they’re all older than you, or your mom hounds the fuck out of your dating life.”

He chuckled. “Oh my god, you don’t know the half of it. She calls me at least once a week to ask if I’m engaged yet. But I am the youngest of the four of us. They’re all a few years older, married and starting their life.”

There was almost a forlorn, melancholy tone in his voice; one that you definitely could relate to.

“And… you’re not.” You settled on saying in a gentler manner than you’re used to using with him.

Whatever emotion was there a second ago was gone in an instant. “Eh,” he shrugged, “married life isn’t really for me.”

“Oh that’s right,” you leaned back before taking another sip of your wine, a wry grin on your lips. “How could I forget? The wedding writer who hates weddings.”

“You just won’t let that go, will you?”

“Why should I?” You practically spit. “You lied to me!”

“I did not lie to you!” He chuckled in disbelief.

“Not only did you lie to me,” you leaned in with a glare, pointing your finger at him, “you lie to every single one of your readers every day.”

His mouth was open with a wide grinned scoff. “How so?!”

“Oh please, stop trying to play innocent! You know for a fact you spin a web of lies about your opinion on glorious matrimony so that it will get you more readers!” You frowned, not wanting to think about how you were also one of the ones who fell prey to his empty poetic words.

“A web of lies? What am I, a spider?!” Now he was just mocking you.

“No, just a cold-hearted jerk, apparently.”

“Why’s that, hm? Because I don’t have the same naïve, hopeless romantic views about marriage as you?”

“Just because you don’t have the same views doesn’t mean you have to shit all over everyone else’s.”

“How am I shitting on them? I’m a writer for Matrimony Mementos! If anything, I embrace other people’s views!”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Ha! That’s funny. You’re the most self-minded person I’ve ever met! If you embraced other people’s views then we wouldn’t even be having this argument right now.”

“No, we wouldn’t be having this argument right now if you got the stick out of your ass long enough to realize that not everyone has the same opinion as you.”

Your mouth fell open at his words. “God, why the hell are you so jaded?! Did someone leave you at the altar or something?”

Tae suddenly stiffened at your words. “Bingo.”

You froze, rebuttal stuck in your throat while your mind tried to catch up to what your ears had just heard.

“What?”

“You hit the nail on the head.” Tae leaned back against the couch before taking another sip of wine, his glass almost empty. “Well, you would’ve, if you’d guessed running away with my best friend too.”

“Oh my god.” You blinked; it all made sense now. The cynicism, the cold-heartedness, the hatred of marriage and all things wedding—Taehyung had been stood up at the altar. Not only that, but to be betrayed by his best friend as well? He must’ve had trust issues through the roof after that. You couldn’t help but feel your heart break a little in your chest for him.

“I’m sorry I– I had no idea. It was a lucky guess…” you trailed off, voice breaking into a murmur at your last words.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I was young.” He waved his hand through the air as if to brush it off. “Who gets married right out of high school anyways?”

“She was your high school sweetheart?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d use that term for her now,” his chuckle was humorlessly wry, “but at the time I thought she was.”

You frowned. You didn’t know how to even begin understanding what kind of pain that must feel like. “That is kinda young to get married,” is all you could think to say.

“You’re telling me.”

You took another sip from your glass. “What did your family say about all of it?”

“Oh, they were devastated when it happened.” His lips quirked upward as he sat in pensive thought for a moment. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because they felt bad for me or because it meant that I wasn’t getting married.”

“Oh come on,” you smiled softly. “I doubt your family would put their own desire to marry you off over your own feelings.”

He blinked. “That is exactly what they would do, have you been listening?” And it was at his teasing chuckle that you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“What about your family?” Taehyung asked on his last sip of wine. He placed the empty glass back down on the coffee table. “Are they as excited to get you married off as mine are?”

Pain swirled through you at the mention of them.

“Well… they were. My mom, specifically.” A melancholy smile tugged at your features. “She passed away when I was younger.”

“I’m– I’m so sorry–”

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “’s not your fault. It happened when I was 14.”

“Yeah, but still,” Tae adorned a pained frown. “To witness death at such a young age—that had to take a toll on you.”

You nodded, first to yourself and then in response. “Yeah, I guess it did. I have younger siblings, so I kinda took on the motherly role with them. I guess that’s why I always feel the need to take care of everyone,” you hummed in contemplative introspection.

You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. Besides your friends from your past, Yerin was really the only one who knew of your absent mother. Not even Seokjin knew. So what was it about Taehyung that made you spill your guts to him?

You would normally blame the alcohol, but you knew that wasn’t the case. You had only had two glasses; that was enough to ease some tension, sure, but definitely not enough to get you tipsy, much less drunk.

You didn’t want to think about any other possible reasons.

“Well at least that explains the whole doing things for others.” When you looked over at Tae upon hearing his words, he had his brow raised as if trying to lighten the conversation.

You were thankful for the distraction.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you shrugged. “But to answer your question, my mom used to be super into weddings and would read all the bridal magazines even though she was already married to my dad.” You chuckle a bit at the fond memory. “But I’d like to think if I got jilted at the altar, my mom would be there for me rather than thinking about her own fantasy.”

“I’m sure she would’ve,” Tae offered a soft, reassuring smile, and before you could register what was happening he had his hand on yours in a tender, comforting gesture.

A jolt of electricity traveled from his touch all the way up your arm and across the expanse of your chest. Your eyes flickered down to the image of his palm gently caressing yours before you gazed back up at him, heart pounding against your ribcage. Why did your body have such a visceral response to him?

“But, uh…” Tae looked away and cleared his throat, and you didn’t think you were imagining the way his ears turned a bright shade of red. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about my family. They were there for me too. I mean, they kinda had to be; I was just a kid. And of course they all knew my best friend as well, so it was this whole thing.”

You shook your head with a tsk. “Some best friend.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tae tutted. “We don’t talk anymore, for obvious reasons.”

“Are you…” you paused before glancing at him beneath your lashes. “Are you over her?”

“Who, my ex? Of course.” He didn’t even hesitate, and the nonchalance of his response made you relax slightly. Why were you relieved? “It just left a scar on me, you know?” He continued. “For the longest time I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t stop wondering why she would leave me after years of being together.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with you,” you immediately assured him without thinking. “She was young and, by the sounds of it, immature. She probably didn’t know what she wanted.” You watched as he poured himself a second glass before adding, “you were only 18 anyway. It was probably for the best.”

“Yeah, I know that now.” He sighed. “I didn’t even realize that she and my best friend had feelings for each other, and then all of a sudden they’re running away together.”

“You’d be surprised at how well people can hide their feelings,” you murmured, lowering your gaze with a frown.

“That’s why I could tell the signs for you and Seokjin,” he was saying, and suddenly your eyes resembled a deer caught in headlights as they snapped up to him. “Because it’s the same way my ex would act around my best friend.”

“Wh-what?” You couldn’t keep your voice from wavering even if you tried. “What a-are you–”

“You and Seokjin. It’s obvious you two used to date, right?”

“We-” you sputtered at the notion, “we didn’t date!”

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you until the expression on your face had his morphing into realization. “So you’re telling me he doesn’t know?”

“Kn-know what?” You feebly questioned, suddenly feeling very ill, but it was too late.

“Oh my god, no wonder you’re so miserable!” He jumped to his feet as if he’d just had an epiphany. “You’re stuck planning the wedding of the man you’re in love with, and he doesn’t even know!”

You were too stunned to even get angry at his choice of words. “I-I’m not in love with him!” You tried to deny.

But alas, Taehyung was not stupid.

“Oh come on, are you actually trying to deny it right now? Who do you think you’re fooling? You were practically making heart eyes at him over dessert!” The volume of his voice was raised slightly, much more impassioned by this than you would’ve ever expected. “That strawberry cake was fucking disgusting and you know it.”

“Okay, yes! The cake was disgusting!” You shot to your feet as well, feeling personally attacked. “But that doesn’t mean I’m in love with him, he’s– he’s my boss!”

“All the more reason why you can’t say anything! You’re nice Y/N; you’re sweet Y/N. You could never do anything to ruin anyone’s perfect moment of happiness, even at the expense of your own!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, buddy–” You fumed, stalking towards him with your finger pointed.

“Oh, it’s back to buddy now, is it?” Taehyung seemed just as angry as you, though about what, you couldn’t be sure. “Oh this is really bad, she’s calling me buddy.”

“Shut up!” You came to a stop a few inches from him. “Why the fuck do you care who I have feelings for anyway, huh?”

Taehyung threw his head back and humorless laughter filled the air. “God, and you called me self-minded! Maybe if you got your head out of Seokjin’s ass for two seconds, you‘d know the answer to that question!”

Your mouth fell open in a scoff of disbelief. Did he really just call you self-minded? “Are you serious? Jesus christ, you are infuriating!”

“Why? Because I’m the only one who will call you out on your bullshit?!” He took a challenging step closer to you as well until you could just make out the light feeling of his breath dancing along your face.

“No, because you’re a fucking asshole!”

Both of your chests were rising and falling from the passion of your heated argument. You searched his face waiting for him to yell another insult back at you, but when he didn’t, your gaze fell to his parted lips that hung agape beneath the weight of his heavy breathing.

When he realized where your line of sight was directed, his brows knit slightly in silent question before his eyes glanced down at your lips as well.

When he spoke again, his voice took on a huskier tone. “At least I’m not scared.”

You continued to search his face, unable to explain the butterflies stirring within you. “Scared of what?”

“Doing this.”

And then suddenly his lips were on yours.

It was like an out of body experience. You had no idea your body could respond on such a visceral, kismet level as it was right now. Never had you experienced this feeling before, not even once in the past.

You didn’t know why it was happening with Taehyung of all people. But now that it was happening, you didn’t want it to stop.

You didn’t hesitate to return the kiss; you don’t think your body would’ve let you even if you tried. You were like putty beneath him, melting under his touch into a puddle of goo and surrendering all control to the logical, rational part of your brain. Pure animalistic desire, need was taking over now. You weren’t as level-headed as you thought—not when it came to Kim Taehyung.

The embrace was fueled by all the hatred, all the passion and tension and pent-up desire the two of you had been holding for one another since the second you met. It was frenzied, rushed and rough and wild right from the start as your tongues didn’t hesitate to ravage the caverns of each other’s mouths, battling for a dominance that neither one of you were willing to surrender. There was no way you were going to submit to this man—but you also weren’t going to stop. You felt lightheaded off of just his taste.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you think that.”

His voice was deep, thick when he rasped the challenge into your mouth, and it had you seeing stars. “Tell me you think I’m an asshole and you want nothing to do with me.”

“I… I think you’re an–” You could barely make the words out between your heated kiss, your hands tangling in his hair before pulling on the dark curls to bring him closer to you. “Just shut the fuck up.”

He moaned against your mouth and the sound shot directly to your core. Already your body was alight with fire, burning and buzzing with the effervescent sparks of an inferno flickering in the air and scattering in the wind. The flames grew even bigger when his hands roamed your body, leaving each place he touched scorching until he pushed against your hips. You were stumbling backwards, not willing to part from his lips for even an instant as you tugged him with you. It was only when you lost your footing and stumbled over something on the ground that you glanced down for barely a millisecond before you were back to devouring each other.

“I told you those damn flowers were just going to take up space,” he smirked against your lips as your lower back slammed against the island counter separating the living room from the kitchen. You bit down on his lower lip in protest, to which he growled and resumed your heavy lip-lock.

“Those ones were from you,” you snapped back hotly before sitting on the countertop with ease when his hands lifted you. There wasn’t a single second wasted as his body filled the space between your knees thanks to your fists grabbing the white tshirt on his collarbone and yanking him towards you.

His lips collided with yours with a matching fervor. “Aw, you kept them?” He grinned in a patronizing manner, to which you pulled his hair again in response.

“Shut up,” you groaned, though the sound was muffled against the satin pillows of bruised lips. Any other comebacks or insults died in your throat the second you felt his burning hands under your shirt.

You didn’t hesitate to lift your arms so he could tear the shirt from your head, your lips back on each other’s before the fabric even made it all the way over your eyes. There wasn’t a second wasted before you were pushing up on his shirt as well, and there was only a moment’s break in the kiss while the clothing slipped between your mouths before he was back on you while still pulling it from his arms.

Thanks to the fact that you were wearing pajamas, you didn’t have a bra on, and the refreshing sensation of his bare chest pressed against your nipples had you shivering in desire. You couldn’t help but whimper with a shuddering sigh when he reached up to tweak one between his nimble fingertips.

“Mm, so sexy,” he let out a breathy moan into your mouth before pulling away to capture your other nipple between his lips, repeatedly flicking his tongue against it. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Ah, Tae,” you whined, back arching against his face to which he groaned in reply and smothered himself even further between your cleavage. Arousal drenched your core at the action, your hand flying to the back of his head to hold him there against you.

While his mouth licked, sucked and nipped every inch of your breasts, his hands began working on tugging the waistband of your sweatpants down your thighs. You lifted yourself up as best as you could so he could pull them all the way off, and it was only when you bare ass touched the cold concrete of the countertop that you realized he had also pulled down your underwear with them. Not that you were complaining—especially when his tongue left your tits and was suddenly between your legs before you could even blink.

“Oh shit!” You trembled at the unexpected sensation, the wet muscle against your aching clit causing sexual relief and pleasure to pulsate through you like sonic waves. Your head involuntarily flew back with an unabashed moan that reverberated against your thin apartment walls, but you didn’t care—not when he was already eating you out with the fervor of a starving man and he’d only just started.

Instantly you were curling your fingers in his hair and gripping the ringlets in your fists in an attempt to keep yourself grounded, though that didn’t stop your legs from quivering in bliss as they wrapped around his shoulders. His hands gripped and squeezed the flesh of your thighs before pressing them closer around his head. You’d worry about suffocating him if it wasn’t he who caged himself within you.

When your eyes opened again and you looked down at him, you saw that his lids were tightly shut as if he had been waiting forever to taste you and finally got to savor every last drop of your delectable juices. The sight turned you on tenfold, which in turn only made him growl as more liquid flowed against his tastebuds.

“God, just like that,” you moaned as you began subtly bucking your hips in time with the movement of his tongue.

He groaned in response. “Fuck, yeah, ride my face baby.” His voice was throaty with intense desire as each heavily spoken word punched you right in the core with delicious arousal.

When you pressed your palm against the back of his head to hold him there, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist in response, engulfing your body in his embrace and causing you to fall forward into his hold. Your hands flew to his shoulders, now completely off of the countertop and nowhere near going back if his walking footsteps were any indication.

He kept his palms securely under your ass to hold you up with your knees still bent over his shoulders so that his face was smothered against your pussy with no means of escaping.

Your stomach rolled, landing like an atomic bomb in your core. Jesus, you didn’t realize just how strong—or willing to please—Taehyung was. As selfish as he normally seemed to be, you would’ve thought he’d be the same way in bed, but so far you couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Tae, what–” your words caught in your throat with the hitch of your breath as his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. “W-what about you–?”

“Shhh,” he gently silenced your concern, and the breath of air that was exhaled against your soaked pussy made you quiver. “You’re always taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you.”

He seemed to be heading back to your room, though the two of you didn’t quite make it there. Your back ended up slamming against the wall outside of your bedroom, and you didn’t have the patience or self control to wait to get there.

His tongue continued to work against your clit, lewd noises filling the air as he slurped and sucked every last drop of your juices, the last few drops that escaped him instead dripping down his chin. Your back was flush against the wall with nowhere to go but on his mouth, and when his wet muscle slipped down to curl outside your tight entrance you felt the tip of his nose nudge and play with your bundle of nerves, the combination of sensations only adding to the pleasure coursing through you.

“Tae,” you whimper in need, and at the sound of your voice he let your body slide down his until your legs were wound around his waist and his lips were back on yours again in a searing, desperate kiss.

You tasted yourself on him, the reminder aiding the eroticism of the entire situation. And as much as you craved the delicious friction when you felt the material of his pants digging into the sensitive lips of your pussy, you wanted to feel his skin against your even more.

“Off,” you commanded in a muffled tone, words devoured by his mouth on yours as you attempted to grab at the waistband of his pants between your legs.

“Still so bossy,” he hummed, and this time the annoyingly charming smirk that always curled at his lips filled you with intense desire rather than irritation.

“Well apparently you like it,” you shrugged with a sly grin that was diminished by the sigh of pleasure as he continued to rut against you while his lips traveled from yours to your neck, latching onto the skin there and sucking blooms of red and purple to paint a sunset across the smooth canvas.

“Mm, damn right I do.” His bottom lip dragged a clean stripe up the column of your throat until he murmured the words with a seductive tone into your ear, his teeth catching on your lobe and nibbling it gently.

A shuddered sigh escaped you as goosebumps raised on your skin from the warm sensation of his breath, your thoughts of removing his pants momentarily stalled though that didn’t stop you from eventually trying to haphazardly fumble with his button during your frantic throes of lust. Damn it, you should’ve given him a pair of Jimin’s sweatpants earlier when you loaned the tshirt. God knows they would’ve been easier to pull off of him in the heat of the moment than these slacks.

After many futile attempts between hungry kisses and desperate hips, you were finally tearing open the zipper and kicking the waist of his pants down his thighs with your heels. His chuckle was dark when it reverberated within the caverns of your mouth, and you devoured the seductive sound with your tongue.

His hands never moved from their position gripping the supple flesh of your ass, nor did his lips part from yours as he lifted you off the wall and began to take slow, distracted steps towards the entrance of your bedroom. Both of your eyes were closed, completely entranced and invested in ravaging one another, and because of that Tae hadn’t even bothered to waste time removing his pants from around his ankles, which ultimately ended with him losing his footing and the two of you tumbling to the ground in a heap of naked limbs.

Uncontrollable laughter echoed around the room from the both of you, your back having hit the ground first and Tae just barely managing to not crush you under his weight in the fall. He rolled onto his back next to you against the hardwood floor, your stomachs practically hurting from laughing so hard though thankfully that was the only thing either of you felt from the mishap. In fact, laughter was still flowing from both of your lips at such a substantial rate that when you sat up and rolled on top of his lap to continue your wild makeout session, you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped through the seams of kisses and spilled into each other’s mouths.

His hands were strong, sturdy when they gripped your hips before running up the curvature of your waist to the swell of your breasts and back down again, settling on the cheeks of your ass and giving them a slap when you began rocking against his hips. The imprint of his palm bloomed into a red mark on your skin while the sting reverberated deliciously right to the center of your core. You could feel your wetness leaking between your legs—especially when you rubbed against what was definitely the rock solid length of his erection in the confinements of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck, I want you,” you couldn’t help but whine in need, all signs of amusement from your fall earlier completely gone as another level of desperation took over you like a craving you couldn’t sate.

He hummed in response against your lips, and you felt the deep sound rumble in his chest. “Mm, is someone finally admitting that to themselves?”

“Don’t make me take it back,” you practically hissed, though the threat was diminished by the fact that your voice was laced with a wanton, breathless sigh.

“Shut the fuck up.” There was a sudden smack to your ass as Taehyung growled the words into your mouth, his grit teeth coming down on your bottom lip. “Stop denying this. How long have you wanted me?”

You moaned embarrassingly loud at the sensation, far from capable of using your words at the moment even if you wanted to.

“How long?” His tone became more firm as he gripped your hair on the back of your head with one hand, tugging you up to look him in the eye. His other hand snaked between the two of you to rub circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb while he watched your expression, waiting for an answer.

You, meanwhile, were a mess on top of him, body trembling and lips agape with endless sounds of pleasure while he assaulted your body with pleasure. The way his eyes drank in the sight like it was his only source of life only turned you on even more than you thought was possible.

“Fuck—ah, I don’t know,” you gasped out, body arched and head thrown back with brows knit in pleasure though you kept your eyes locked with his. The feeling of his relentless ministrations against your bundle of nerves had your vision blurring and seeing stars, unable to think straight. “I– a long time. At the wedding. Fuck, I– I don’t know–” an unabashed mewl tore through your throat.

“The wedding? You mean the night we first met?” There was something dark about the way he tilted his head, innocent in a condescending way that wasn’t innocent at all. “You’ve been wanting my cock for that long, and all this time you’ve been trying to fight it?”

He never let up on the vibrations of his thumb, not even once while he was talking or waiting for you to answer. Until suddenly his motions stopped, and you almost whined at the abrupt loss of friction until he delivered a slap to your pussy that had you letting out a breathy yelp.

“What makes you think you deserve it then?” He arched a brow into the hairline of his curls, the smirk on his lips looking ridiculously hot.

The stubborn resolve steeled within you, frustrated that he was teasing you all of a sudden after such a passionate exchange. “Are you not going to give it to me regardless?” It was your turn to raise your brow this time. “What happened to being brave, hm?”

He shook his head before his hand caught the lower half of your jaw, fingers curling into your cheeks and beneath your chin enough to hold your attention on him without hurting you. “I want to hear you say it.”

You stared down into his eyes for a few more seconds without breaking, wanting to stand your ground but unable to resist the magnetic pull he had over you.

“Please,” you finally gave in, your stubborn resolve breaking as a part of you died a little from having to beg though you knew it would be worth it. Your tone was desperate as you looked down at him with pleading eyes. “I need you, Taehyung.”

He gazed up at you, something subtle in his features shifting from teasing to a more serious, reverent expression, and a few heavy seconds hung with silence in the air before he suddenly leaned up and captured your lips in his.

There was something different about this kiss. The pressure was more gentle, his actions more tender as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss before bringing his hand up to the side of your face and cupping your cheek in his palm. Something surged within your chest: a warmth that bloomed from the tips of yours fingers down to your toes. You were enthralled, completely swept away with the captivating embrace that it barely even registered when he lifted you in his arms and rose to his feet before walking—patiently this time and without issue—into your room and in front of the foot of your bed frame. It wasn’t until your back touched the plush blankets covering your bed that you even realized you had moved at all, because all the while his lips never left yours.

He was overtop of you as you eased your way up the mattress, your bodies moving in sync and perfect harmony like a dance you were meant to share all along. Even the removal of his boxer briefs was seamless, his hand fitting perfectly on top of yours and your fingers intertwining while you pushed the fabric down over his hips and past his thighs before you suddenly felt his member, long and thick in your palm with a tip that was leaking precum and pulsing in need.

You didn’t even get a chance to look at it properly before you wrapped your legs around his hips and hooked your ankles behind his lower back, your core aching and hole clenching as the need for him transcended onto a higher level than what you thought was ever possible. You wanted to look at him, touch him, spend your time exploring every inch of his body, but it was as if something deeper connected the two of you with an intangible pull that left you helpless, unable to do anything but surrender to the power it had of bringing the two of you together. Your arms engulfed one another as close as you could physically be against each other’s chests, his hand hooking your thigh even higher up on his waist before lining up with your entrance and pushing into you, naturally and without need of warning.

Your walls stretched around his girth like you were made for him, your wetness spilling down your thighs and aiding in the sensation of a slight sting melting into pure bliss. You swallowed each other’s moans, brows knitted above closed eyes and noses nestled together while whimpers and sighs of pleasure reverberated within the caverns of your mouths. You tasted it with your tongues, the two muscles dancing together in time with your hips that burst in a cacophony of incandescent ecstasy when they met with each matching thrust.

This was an out of body experience. This was like no sex you’d ever had before. This was something else entirely; but you didn’t possess the ability to figure out what that was with your mind so far above cloud nine and among the universe’s stars.

Not even words could be spoken at the moment, because you were sure neither of you could form anything coherent even if you wanted to. However, your connection went far beyond that; your bodies communicated in a way that words weren’t even needed. Pure, primal need and raw emotion were all that drove the two of you, and you had plenty of that to go around.

You were too caught up in the intensity of the moment to even remember to speak, the only sounds bouncing off the apartment walls being his bare hips slapping against the inside of your thighs and the involuntary cries of pleasure muffled by your kiss. Tae’s deeper grunts and groans entwined with your breathless, sensual ones, and together the mellifluous sounds created a chorus of euphonious harmony that was music to the ear.

Not to your neighbor’s ears, you were sure, but it wasn’t as if either of you were aware of anyone’s existence other than each other’s at the moment.

Each action felt so much more intimate, held so much more meaning than the last. The way one of his hands brushed your hair out of your face so that he could gaze into your eyes with his sparkling ones as if yours held the entire world in them, the way he caged your body within his as if to keep you close, safe, protected—it all felt so much deeper than sex. You’d hooked up with guys before in the past of course, though it had never been quite like this. You didn’t have the will to question it right now though. Right now Taehyung and the way his dick drilled into your pussy were the only things on your mind.

“Say it again,” were his first words spoken, hot with heavy breaths in your mouth. “Say that you need me.”

“Ah,” you continued to wail wantonly while his hips snapped into yours like his life depended on it, and it was a wonder you managed to find any words at all. “I-I need you, Tae!” You threw your head back with a cry, and he chased it to press his forehead to the crook of your neck. “I need you, fuck, I need you so fucking badly!”

Your voice hitched into a moan when you felt his teeth bite the skin of your neck while his hips sped up, seeming impassioned and fueled by your outburst to go that much harder. Your fingers scrambled to grab ahold of his hair, his shoulder, the skin of his back: anything you could latch onto for support while he drove your body higher and higher up the mattress until your head was practically hitting the headboard with each thrust.

“Jesus Tae, I’m– you’re gonna make me cum–!” You were a mess of uncontrollable shambles as incoherent garble spilled from your lips.

“Shit, thank god,” Taehyung cursed, his lips bruised a darker red when he lifted his head to stare down at you beneath a curtain of dark curls that hung in his eyes, the sight arousing you tenfold. “I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

It was unexpected, the way your heart fluttered in endearment from his honesty. The fact that he was as much of a wreck as you when he was the one touching your body all night left you feeling strangely flattered—not to mention the thought of making him cum had you practically quivering with desire.

“Wanna make you cum,” your voice took on a seductive edge of need before you were cradling his cheek in your palm to pull his lips down to yours, tugging the bottom one between your teeth to bring his face even closer to you.

An audible groan of pent up frustration for relief escaped him. “Yeah? Wanna feel my cum inside you?”

Your walls involuntarily clenched at his dirty words. “Yeah,” you whined in reply.

“Ah fuck, you feel so good,” he winced with a toss of his head and brows knit in pleasure.

Immediately your mouth attached to the exposed column on his throat, his skin tasting salty from sweat and buttery smooth beneath your tongue as you began to suck blooming marks of red and purple to match the ones you donned from him.

“God Y/N, I’m gonna–” before he could finish he quickly leaned down to press his forehead against yours, the intense abyss of his nearly black eyes swallowing you whole in a breathtaking stare before his lips finally found yours again, and right when fireworks erupted from your kiss was when you felt his release.

The sensation of his hot seed shooting inside of you and painting your walls in white was ultimately what catapulted you over the edge, your body entering an alternate dimension of euphoria as pure ecstasy showered over you in waves and waves of earth shattering pleasure.

Your mind was numb, unable to register anything but sexual bliss as you glowed in its aftereffects like a bird preening in the sun after a nice bath. Taehyung rolled onto his back next to you, your bodies a jumbled mass of sweaty, tired limbs and unaware of where yours ended and his began. Only the sound of heavy pants while you both caught your breath filled the reeling yet comfortable silence.

Fuck that was really good—easily the best sex you’d ever had. Not only was Taehyung surprisingly willing to please, but never before had you felt such an intangible connection, such a strong sexual chemistry with the person you were with. It startled even you. You may hate the man, but the level of carnal attraction you felt towards him rivaled that of what you felt for even Seokjin, if you had to say.

The thought frightened you; loving Seokjin was all you’d known for the past three years since moving to the city and starting your new life here. To think that you could feel something stronger for another person…

No, you didn’t know what you were thinking. It was just the lust talking; after all, it’d been a while since you’d gotten laid. Your hormones were all over the place.

It was the only explanation for why when Taehyung curled into you, his arm slinging over your bare waist and pulling you close to his chest with tired, heavy lids that had already fallen shut, you didn’t dare stop him.

You simply closed your eyes and fell into one of the best slumbers of your life.

The next morning you awoke to Taehyung still in your bed, but after a few exchanged pleasantries you sent him on his way home and haven’t heard from him since. And honestly, it was probably for the best. You didn’t like the idea of addressing whatever the fuck it was that had happened between the two of you, much preferring to instead act like it was nothing rather than facing the reality of things—whatever that may be. In all honesty, you had no clue what that crazy spark between you and Taehyung was, and considering you originally couldn’t stand the guy, you thought it made the most sense to just continue ignoring your feelings in hopes of them going away.

Which was an easy feat to accomplish with Seokjin sitting five feet in front of you.

“I just love the food here. Don’t you?” Your boss’s face was lit with that warm, infectious smile that you loved so much, your features finding it hard not to mirror the expression. “It’s so hard to narrow it down to just two items.”

You were currently at a upscale restaurant along the waterfront taste testing dishes for the catering menu. Since Mijoo had a hair appointment she absolutely couldn’t miss, it was just the two of you, much to your guilty satisfaction. Though who you were feeling guilty for, you weren’t quite sure anymore.

Normally in this situation, you’d be ecstatic for the alone time with Seokjin outside of work, only to later remember the existence of his fiancé who thought the world of you and feel like a terrible human being. But today, you found your thoughts going to one person you weren’t expecting them to.

Tae.

The sex meant nothing to you—right? You were sure it meant nothing to him. So why did you find yourself still thinking about him after it had already been three days? Why did you find yourself strangely… missing him?

You cleared the thoughts away with a shake of your head and refocused on Seokjin’s stunning features. This was the man you had feelings for. This was the man you wanted to be with, not some cynical, anti-christmas wedding hater—not someone who was brash and outspoken and crude and brooding and just… just… no. You didn’t. You couldn’t.

“We’ll need two completely different dishes to offer some variety,” you spoke, if only to get your mind off of a certain someone. The grin that took over your expression when you looked at Seokjin came naturally. “Maybe a vegetarian option? Or perhaps seafood?”

“Mijoo’s sister doesn’t eat meat; we may want to go with that,” he nodded, the two of you leaning together to read from the same menu.

Your heads were so close they were practically touching, and you focused on the sensation to see if you felt anything, any intangible pull or spark that drew you to him like a moth to a flame and rendered you helpless, unable to control yourself in the presence of such raw, unadulterated passion.

Nope.

“Oh, how about item number 36?” Seokjin turned his face in your direction as he reached over your hand to point to your side of the menu.

And when there was the faint tickle of his breath against your cheek, relief came flooding back like water breaking through a dam—because you felt it, felt that subtle flutter in your chest that told you your world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You still had feelings for Seokjin; sure, your reaction wasn’t a visceral one, but you still felt something because you were aware that it was him. It was the man that you’d been in love with for three years; that had to count for something, right?

“Or number 48,” you suggested, in a much better mood now that your doubts had been debunked as you pointed over to his side of the menu, subtly leaning closer as well.

“Shad fish are a bit boney though, aren’t they?” His nose scrunched up in amusement while he turned to you, your faces mere inches apart. “Wouldn’t want anyone to choke or get their esophagus torn to shreds at our reception.”

You laughed at his words, head tilting back as the light sound fell from your lips and danced throughout the room around you. You were so busy laughing, in fact, that you hardly noticed a figure walking towards you before stopping short, watching the scene unfold in front of him, and turning away with a hardened expression.

“Taehyung!” Your boss called out, not having seen the man either until the last second when his back was already to you.

Your expression fell at the sound of his name, heart stuttering involuntarily as your eyes fell onto the figure Seokjin was singling out. And sure enough, when the frozen figure with stiff, bunched shoulders turned around to reveal a fake smile that oozed professionalism, it was in fact Kim Taehyung.

“What are you doing here?” Was all you could think to ask when he approached the table to exchange pleasantries with the soon-to-be groom, shock written all over your features. Though it was to your surprise, and unexpected disappointment, that Taehyung completely ignored you.

He didn’t even bat an eye in your direction; in fact, it seemed as if he was avoiding your gaze altogether. And though you thought you’d wanted this, you couldn’t help the confusion that filled you anyways, somewhat hurt though you didn’t know why. You considered what you did together to mean absolutely nothing.

So why did he make you feel this way?

“Glad you were able to make it,” Seokjin grinned, pulling out an open chair for him.

“Ah, no, thank you but I can’t stay,” Tae shook his head apologetically, but you couldn’t help but look for the meaning behind his words. “Just wanted to go over the finalized menu. You’re having…?”

Your boss glanced at you as if double checking your decision, though you were too lost in your thoughts and staring at Tae to be of any use at the present moment. “Chicken Saltimbocca and Eggplant Rollatini,” he eventually answered with a nod.

Taehyung wrote the dishes down in his notes before flipping the little booklet shut and stuffing it in his back pocket while he flashed him a meek, box shaped smile. “Thanks. Enjoy your lunch.”

It was only after he was walking away that you finally scrambled to your senses. “Wait, Seokjin I’ll– I’ll be right back, I just have to ask him a question,” you stumbled to your feet, “about the wedding,” you added before dashing off through the restaurant.

You called out his name multiple times, but it wasn’t until he was outside and already starting down the sidewalk that you finally got his attention.

“What?” He snapped, shoulders slightly falling in defeat as he turned around to face you with a huff.

You slowed down your quickened pace as you approached him, out of breath from trying to catch up. “What’s wrong?” Concern filtered through your frown and furrowed brows. “Are you okay?”

He just shook his head before turning to walk away again, not even bothering to give a reply.

Hurt seeped its way further into the crevices of your chest. “Tae, wait!” You dove forward and caught his wrist in your hand before he could make it far, the sparks of electricity that jolted through your veins at the touch not lost on you. Your tone was gentle and pleading when you spoke again. “Talk to me.”

“Why should I?!” He suddenly lashed out, and when he whipped around to face you again the pain was evident on his features. “Would it even make a difference?”

“What are you talking about?” Alarm now joined the confusion on your expression. “Why wouldn’t it?”

He just shook his head to himself again as if he was in complete disbelief of you. “God I’m so– I’m not stupid; I saw the signs. It’s the same thing my ex did with my best friend and I was too oblivious to see the signs then, but I’m not now. I should’ve known. I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

Panic began to fill you. “Taehyung, what are you–”

“God, are you that fucking stupid or just in denial?” His words cut like glass, but all you could do was stand there and watch as he stepped forward before stopping directly in front of you. “I have feelings for you, Y/N! Real, serious fucking feelings for you, and all you can do is sit there with your head up Seokjin’s ass.”

His confession hit you like a bucket of ice water on a day like today: bitter, cold, relentless to match the emotion in his eyes. You shivered under the weight of it all, catatonic with shock.

“You know about my past,” his voice was low, emotionless when he spoke again, but somehow that only made things worse. “You know what happened with my ex. And to have the first person I’ve liked since then be in almost the same exact situation–!” He cut himself off, the words getting caught in his throat and you felt yourself break inside. “I’m so dumb to think you were different,” he finished barely above a whisper.

“Tae,” you took a slow step forward, not wanting to scare him off, “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

“After the other night? After we made love?!” The pain in his eyes was pleading and it broke your heart. Made love? You had no idea he held your time together in such high regards. “How could you not know?!”

You didn’t know what to say. You felt like a complete idiot.

He mistook your silence for resignation and simply shook his head. “I thought things would change after what happened between us, but clearly I can see I was wrong. I hope you’re happy with your boss and his wife,” he scoffed with a look of disgust before walking off and leaving you frozen on the sidewalk.

You didn’t see him again after that.

It was strange, finding yourself now actively searching for and hoping to see him, a stark contrast to the beginning of last week when you were still avoiding him at all costs.

Oh how the tables had turned; now it was he who was avoiding you, a fact that still boggled your mind. You had no idea that he had feelings for you, but now that you did it all made sense. The constant look of amusement when you’d argue with him, the way he blew up when he found out about your unrequited feelings for Seokjin, the sex—all signs pointed to him falling for you, yet you’d been the oblivious one this time.

That wasn’t the only thing that made sense; suddenly, all of your tumultuous feelings started to fall into place as well. You’d been so blind, so bullheaded in your feelings for Seokjin that you dismissed every single possible answer staring you straight in the face: you liked Taehyung.

You liked him a lot.

But he was right, you were so in denial (and also so, so stupid) that you never even gave him a chance, never even entertained the idea that what you felt for him could be romantic in any way. You’d brushed off the chemistry, brushed off the spark, brushed off the passion and intensity and pure magnetism between the two of you, all for an unrequited relationship you’d gotten comfortable in. Loving Seokjin was all you knew; loving Seokjin felt safe.

But love wasn’t supposed to be either of those things, and Seokjin didn’t make you feel half the things Taehyung did.

God, you were so dumb; you needed to find Tae and apologize, confess your feelings, anything that would make him realize how real your feelings were as well. Right now he thought you were still trailing after Seokjin like a sad little puppy dog, but all you could think about was him.

As a heat of the moment decision, you decided to go to Tae’s work (you’d gotten the address from Mijoo, who was more than happy to give it to you) and profess your feelings to him. A gesture this grand and dramatic happened in all the movies; it had to work, right? You knew you were a hopeless romantic, and Tae definitely was not, but he liked you and that had to count for something.

You raced through the town square and through the busy main streets before practically barreling through the glass double doors of The Korea Times. Upon entering, however, your momentum staggered; this place was bigger and way busier than you were anticipating.

After looking around to no avail, you eventually approached the front desk. “Excuse me,” you smiled politely, though you couldn’t keep your foot from tapping in anticipation. “In which office does Kim Taehyung work?”

After tapping away at the computer for a couple few passing seconds that seemed to drag on for centuries, the receptionist finally found him. “22nd floor.”

You spared her a fleeting thank you before dashing off towards the elevator and making your ascent. Nerves continued to build within your jittery, frenzied insides; you had no idea how he was going to react. What if he didn’t believe you and stormed off again, or slammed the door in your face without even hearing you out? The thought of his rejection made you sick to your stomach now that you’d finally figured out and acknowledged your feelings for him.

Thankfully you didn’t have to torture yourself with what if’s much longer, because soon the elevator doors were opening and bringing you to room lined with cubicles.

Your heart rate skyrocketed to new heights at the thought of seeing him at any second, though when you glanced around you couldn’t make out his face among the crowd of many hardworking writers at their desks. The emotions swirling within you began to grow more hasty in your search, and before you knew it your body was acting on the rush of adrenaline and desperate need to just see him.

“Taehyung?” You called out in a steady, strong voice, the sound gaining the attention of everyone in the room. You swallowed down the embarrassment when they all looked your way. “Kim Taehyung.”

Your eyes scanned the crowd of faces staring back at you, until finally a familiar figure caught your eye in the corner of the room entering the lobby of cubicles from a long hallway that led out of view with an older woman with greying hair by his side.

It was him.

“Tae,” you spoke in a less frantic tone, and his head snapped up at the sound of your voice before he was halting in his steps and staring over at you with wide eyes full of alarm.

You couldn’t imagine how desperate you must’ve looked showing up at his workplace unannounced, but you didn’t care. If that’s what it took to prove to him how you felt, then you would look as desperate as needed.

It felt like an eternity and one second all at the same time as you gazed into each other’s eyes, though when his lips eventually parted as if he was getting ready to say something, you beat him to it.

“I know you hate me right now.” You took a step forward, not wanting him to kick you out before you got a chance to say your piece. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see. But before you say anything, just hear me out. I… I needed to see you.”

The bewilderment and apprehension in his expression softened slightly at your words, though he still looked alarmed and somewhat guarded. You didn’t blame him; this was probably a shock.

“I… I’m sorry, Taehyung. For everything. I’m sorry for being so stubborn, so argumentative and giving you such a hard time,” you chuckled at the understatement of your words, and he did too. Good sign. “I’m sorry I was too blind to see what was right in front of me until it was too late.” You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves. “I like you, Taehyung. I mean I have genuine, serious feelings for you, and they’re more real than anything I thought I ever felt for anyone else.” Seokjin, you wanted to say, though name-dropping your well known boss in a room full of journalists probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “I miss you,” you sighed in defeat, “and I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Is this the girl from the article?” The elder woman spoke up next to Taehyung, her eyes going from him to you then back to him. “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride?”

And suddenly it felt like your vision was tunneling.

Your face blanched at her words. “What?”

Tae’s eyes widened when she spoke, his expression growing from alarm into full blown fear as he looked back at you. “N-no, Y/N, that’s not– It’s not what you think, I–”

“You didn’t know?” The woman arched a brow at you, though she didn’t seem at all sympathetic. Rather, she seemed impressed. “Wow, Taehyung. I underestimated you.”

Confusion and dread swirled within you like a brewing storm about to downpour, your mind struggling to process the meaning of what you were hearing. “Know what?” You asked in a stunned, stupefied voice.

Tae opened his mouth, but before he could answer–

“Taehyung here is writing an article about you for the front page of the section.” She said it like it was a compliment and not a kick in the gut. “Remember your planner? He saw all the wedding dates in it, and well…” she trailed off with a smile before turning to Taehyung. “I assumed she leant it to you, but you stole it? I gotta say, that makes the story even better.”

“I’m not writing it.” Tae’s words were firm as he glared at the woman you assumed was his boss before turning to you. “Y/N, you have to know, I– I was never going to run it–”

“So it’s true?” You couldn’t help the bitter laugh of disbelief that fell from your lips, knowing that your voice was shaky with the promise of tears but you didn’t care. “Everything—the flowers, the flirting, the–” you couldn’t say the rest, breath choking off in your throat. “It was all for that?”

“No, Y/N, that’s not–” he took a step forward but you retreated.

“You used me to get ahead in your career.” You shook your head in disbelief, disgust and hurt and heartbreak all twisting onto your features. “I trusted you.”

“Please,” his voice was on the verge of desperation. “It’s not like that–”

“God, you were right, I’m so fucking stupid,” you shook your head as your eyes lowered to the floor, a tear escaping past the brim and falling past your cheek to the ground. He tried moving towards you again, but as soon as you saw him within your field of vision that was blurred with tears, you spun around and hightailed it out of there.

“Y/N, wait!” You heard him behind you but you didn’t stop, instead hurrying to the elevator and repeatedly pressing the down arrow with rapid fire until the doors opened. You dashed inside and hit the close doors button right before he could reach you.

The last thing you saw as the metal doors slid shut was the pure anguish on his face.

And then the silence was deafening.

You sagged to the floor with your back against the wall, the wave of tears you’d been holding back now overflowing and spilling out of you in ugly, unrelenting sobs. If you felt like a fool before, that didn’t even touch how you felt now. Taehyung was right yet again; you were impossibly naïve.

How could you have led yourself to believe this guy actually cared about you? No wonder he was so dead set on finding out how many weddings you had been in and reading into the reason why you were this way. You thought he was the first person who actually cared, the first person who wanted to focus on you, but it turned out to be all about himself for his own personal gain in the end anyways. You knew he was selfish; you knew you didn’t like him from the very beginning for a reason. You just didn’t know what that reason was yet.

You should’ve followed your gut.

But another part of you, a part you absolutely detested right now, knew that that wasn’t the case. Your gut was what led you to this building to confess your feelings for him. Your gut was what produced all those unwanted thoughts and feelings about Tae that you were so in denial about. Following your gut was what got you into this mess.

No, what you should’ve done was use your brain.

You were always such a logical, rational person, but when Taehyung came along he threw all of that right out the window. You weren’t the type of person to usually make such impulsive decisions based on heat of the moment passion, and yet he brought that out in you. Earlier today, you would’ve said that was a good thing—now you were thinking it most certainly was not.

The elevator seemed to reach the bottom floor much too quickly, and soon you were getting up and wiping the tears and smeared makeup from beneath your eyes before attempting to walk out like nothing had happened.

Wishful thinking.

“Y/N!” You heard Tae’s voice a few moments after you left the building, already a ways down the sidewalk by now.

Your feet sped up against the pavement, just wanting to be as far away from him as possible. You couldn’t handle this right now. You just wanted to go home.

When you felt his hand on your wrist after jogging to catch up with you, you ripped your arm from his hold. “Don’t touch me!” The words tore through your throat as you whipped around to face him, tears having returned to your eyes. “God, I can’t even look at you right now!” You turned away to continue walking.

“Y/N, please–”

“What do you want?!” You came to an abrupt stop again, furious eyes holding an amplitude of pain when you looked at him. “Haven’t you already done enough?”

“Please, just let me explain–”

“What could you possibly say right now that would make this okay? What excuse do you have?!”

“I just–” he paused, a heavy sigh of resignation leaving him before all he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

You tutted out a scoff as if his apology meant nothing to you. He didn’t have anything to explain, because he didn’t have any excuse. And even if he did, there was nothing he could say to make you get over this.

You didn’t know if you ever could.

“I have to go,” you shook your head and avoided his eyes as you felt a new wave of tears come. You didn’t want him to see you cry, and you definitely didn’t want your resolve to be weakened by looking at his annoyingly attractive face.

“Y/N, wait–”

But you were already turning around and taking off down the street.

The air smelled of Christmas time.

Or at least it should, what with the 16 miniature evergreen trees positioned next to each row of chairs lining the interior of the warm log cabin. Red ribboned bows donned the back of every seat, the satin material catching on the glow of the warm dangling lights that emulated falling snow and causing it to shine with an iridescent gleam.

You, however, couldn’t appreciate a single inch of your surroundings thanks to the way you were running around in forty different directions like a chicken with your head cut off. It was mere hours before the ceremony where Seokjin and Mijoo would be pronounced husband and wife, and you had so much to do you didn’t even know where to start.

Despite practically being a pro at planning weddings, you had never done so in such a short amount of time, leaving even a seasoned bridesmaid like yourself frazzled under the pressure. Being the most responsible person in the room meant that people depended on you for everything, and you felt obligated to deliver. After all, it was the most important day of their lives, right? You just wanted to make them happy.

But what about your own happiness?

Your mind, as it often did, flashed to the words once said by Kim Taehyung. It had been several days since your hasty exit outside his work, and you hadn’t seen or heard from him since. It was much like before your run in, except this time it was back to you avoiding him again; your relationship had come full circle. But unlike the many times before when you spent your time dodging his presence, you were deeply conflicted and unsure of what to do this time.

Sure, the man was an asshole. You’d known that from the beginning, and he’d only further reiterated your point by proving that you now had a legitimate reason to hate him. But things were messy, complicated now. Much like the time he’d spent avoiding you earlier this week, you found yourself missing him yet again, unable to get him out of your head.

If sucked, because as much as you wanted to hate him, you couldn’t.

Thankfully you’d had plenty to busy your mind with these past few days, so you were definitely putting your all into this wedding if only to keep from thinking about him, much to the Mijoo’s relief.

“You are such a lifesaver, Y/N,” she gushed while you fixed the hem of her veil that had torn slightly from accidentally getting caught on the heel of her stilettos. The bride tried to speak through unmoving lips while the hired cosmetician applied makeup to her face. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Happy to help,” you quickly grinned while stitching up the last of the lace. Thankfully your hair and makeup was already finished before you arrived; you figured you’d have too much to do to spend time on yourself while you were here, and you were right.

“Shit, I left my scissors in my bag downstairs.” You sat the uncut thread attached to the veil on the table next to you as you rose to your feet. “I’ll be right back!”

The bridal suite was on the second floor of the cabin above where the ceremony was taking place, which meant that you had to risk mingling with guests who had already arrived at the venue early. To avoid being seen you took the back way, slipping behind wooden columns and stacked logs that made up walls in an attempt to retrieve your forgotten supplies.

“Oh, sorry–”

You felt yourself run into something that definitely wasn’t a structure within the cabin, though it wasn’t the moving limbs that gave that away. Rather, it was the very, very familiar voice that had your heart rate spiking to levels you didn’t even know were possible—which was saying a lot, given the fact that you’d been running around so much today.

When you looked up, you saw that the brief apology had gotten caught in the throat by none other than Kim Taehyung.

So many emotions came rushing to you all at once; you wanted to groan. You wanted to cry. But most importantly, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the way you immediately wanted to lean forward and kiss him. It was as if your entire being craved him after having him completely in the most intimate way possible and then having everything ripped away. It was a natural, visceral reaction that couldn’t be helped.

You tried, like so many times before this, to ignore it.

“Y/N.” He seemed just as surprised to see you as you were to see him, his mouth frozen agape and his eyes wide.

“Tae,” your voice mirrored the shock in his own; you hated how a storm of butterflies instantly took over your stomach. “What are you doing here?”

“I-I was coming to see you, actually,” he cleared his throat as a sheepish expression took over his features. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me, so I figured I’d sneak in through the back so I could at least get you alone to say my piece before you kicked me out.”

It was like a breath of fresh air, seeing his face again. Your eyes fell from his long, tousled dark curls that hung over his eyes to the small freckle on his nose and bottom lip and the crisp waistcoat he wore over a white collared shirt rolled up to his elbows tucked into fitted slacks.

Honestly, he looked hot as hell. You swallowed down the carnal desire that instinctively swirled within you to instead fold your arms.

“Well, we’re alone, aren’t we?” You glanced around the small back room, not a soul in sight.

He nibbled on his lower lip; he almost seemed nervous. “I wanted to explain myself.” His eyes seemed to search your face for signs that you would stop him or run away again. When you didn’t, he continued with a shaky breath. “I wasn’t expecting to fall for you. I– of course I was attracted to you when we first met. I was so excited when you left your planner because it gave me an excuse to see you again.” He gulped uncomfortably for his words to follow. “But when I saw all the wedding plans, my mind just went to work mode. I was working the night we first met, as you know, so I was already in that mindset. I wanted to use your story as an example for the hypocrisy of the wedding industry as a whole.”

“So I was just a means to an end,” you concluded with a bitter smile and a nod of your head, ready to walk off again.

“No–! No, you are not.” His words were firm, certain as he grabbed your hand in his to keep you here with him.

You glanced down at where you burst with electricity from the touch, in too much of a daze to move.

“I got to know you. The real you, not just the beautiful face in a bunch of bridesmaid dresses.” His thumb caressed your skin, causing your stomach to roll. “I grew to care about you, Y/N. Everything I said, everything I did—it was out of real, genuine feelings for you. I wasn’t thinking about my job, not once. You made everything disappear.”

Your heart fluttered no matter how badly you wanted it not to; you didn’t want to be affected by his sweet, smooth words. How could you trust him again after this?

“I told my boss a couple weeks ago that I wasn’t going to write it anymore.” His voice was full of conviction when he spoke. “She wouldn’t let me scrap it, wouldn’t let me change a thing, but I– I wasn’t going to do that to you. I wasn’t going to run the story.”

You shook your head as tears you didn’t even know you had left to cry over this pooled in your eyes. You wanted to trust him so badly. “How can I believe a word you say?” You asked, your voice breaking. “The entire foundation of our relationship is built on a lie.”

“No, it’s not.” He took a small step forward as if afraid of scaring you off, but you reluctantly stayed put. “You intrigued me from the moment we met, Y/N. Before the planner, before anything; I wanted to get to know you.”

“You saw me changing gowns.” You shook your head again, looking for excuses. “You knew I was in two weddings in one night. Even if it was subconscious, you were still thinking about work.”

He blinked, your words making him reassess his mindset and the origin of his feelings for you that night. “No.” Now it was his turn to shake his head. “You’re wrong. You intrigued me because I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, inside and out.”

You were stunned at the unexpectedly touching compliment, your heart once again betraying you to soar amongst the clouds and stars in the sky. An overwhelming amount of emotion swelled within you, surging in your chest and climbing its way up to form a lump the size of a golf ball in your throat.

“You still used me, Tae. Just because you decided to not go through with the story doesn’t change the fact that you were going to do it in the first place. Were you not going to say anything?” The frown on your lips was evident in your heartbroken voice. “Were you just going to let me believe that you had no ulterior motive when we…” fell for each other, you wanted to say, but the words caught in your throat. The sentiment, the deeper meaning in them surprised even you and was too much, especially given the circumstances.

The sagging of his shoulders in response to your question told you all you needed to know.

You shook your head in disbelief. “And you had the audacity to get mad at me! Make me feel like I was the bad guy!”

“Because you fucked me up, Y/N!” The level of his voice raised to match yours. “My feelings for you are so real, and to see you still head over heels for him after you and I made love—it fucked with my head!” There was a moment’s pause while his chest rose and fell; the strain in his tone and pain in his eyes was genuine. “It brought back all these old insecurities from my past, and I just–“ he sighed. “Like I said, when I’m with you, everything else disappears. I wasn’t thinking about the story. I really wasn’t.”

There it was again: made love. You had absolutely no idea he felt so strongly about you when the two of you had sex—were almost ashamed to admit you had thought it didn’t mean anything at the time.

“I don’t– I’m not–” you sighed in defeat. “I thought I was in love with him. But when he and I got lunch together, I realized that…” you mentally prepared yourself to admit this out loud for the first time, “that it doesn’t even compare to what you make me feel.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly before softening into a small smile and twinkling warmly at your confession. “Really?” His voice was hopeful yet apprehensive. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Definitely not,” you shook your head with a chuckle. “If anything, it would be easier to just go back to hating you. I wish I could.”

Taehyung shared in your chuckle before his expression fell into something much more genuine as he looked at you with gleaming eyes, his smile growing at the confession. “Does that mean you don’t? Hate me, I mean.”

Despite the conflicting emotions swirling inside of you, you couldn’t help but melt at the hopeful excitement that lit up his features. “Unfortunately not; I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The charming smirk that you’d begrudgingly grown to love quirked at his lips. “It’s called not being in denial for once in your life.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at his words though you couldn’t fight the growing smile on your lips.

Taehyung mirrored your grin, his tongue peeking out to smooth along his lower lip before he took another cautious step forward. “I promise I’ll spend every waking hour gaining your trust back; if you’ll allow me the honor.” His hands were raised as if he was about to cradle your face in his palms, though they hovered suspended in the air, waiting for your permission.

You didn’t possess the willpower to continue rejecting him even if you wanted to.

“I promise I will too.” There was a demure smile on your lips as you took a step forward as well so that your face fit perfectly into his hands, the feeling of his skin on yours after what felt like a lifetime causing the planets to align. “I’ve realized a lot of things lately, and Tae– I really don’t want anyone but you.”

The beam that lit up his expression was so natural, so infectious that you felt your heart burst in your chest at the sight. “Good,” he murmured as he leaned in. “Because you’re the only bridesmaid for me.”

You could’ve kicked him had you not been so swept away by his lips on yours.

“Y/N! Has anyone seen Y/N?!” Mijoo hissed outside of the closed wooden doors separating the bridal party from the ceremony room where the seated guests and groomsmen were already waiting for the grand entrance with Seokjin standing at the altar. “We’re supposed to walk in at any minute!”

Seokjin, unaware of the frantic search party happening on the other side of the closed doors beyond the aisle, glanced around the room with furrowed brows before looking at the officiant standing with him at the altar. “What’s taking so long?” He whispered to keep the guests from overhearing.

“Oh, fuck yes Tae, right there!” You cried out in ecstasy, your back pressed against the wall of a cramped storage closet with one leg hiked up over his hip and the other buckling at the knee, barely keeping you standing upright while Taehyung fucked into you like an animal in heat.

The multiple layers of material in the skirt of your bridesmaid dress designed to keep you warm in the cold winter month was bunched up around your waist between the two of you, but neither of you seemed to care as he gripped the inside of your hitched thigh to keep your legs spread and panties pulled to the side so his cock could pump in and out of your pussy at a frightening pace.

“Mm, missed you so much.” Tae was a mess of moans into your mouth, his kisses just as frenzied as his hips which slapped into yours at such a fervent pace you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

You knew there was something you needed to be doing right now, but here in this moment with the tip of his cock driving you up and down the wooden logs and shelving and repeatedly hitting your g-spot with each heavy thrust, you couldn’t bring yourself to remember what it was.

You definitely weren’t making it to the ceremony on time.

And putting yourself first for once never felt so good.

© all content belongs to kookingtae 2021. do not modify or repost.

#christmas in july #a winter wedding season #bangtansorciere #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung one shot #taehyung au #taehyung scenario #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts one shot #bts scenario #bts au #kim taehyung #bts

[lunaaaalovegreat]

Till Forever Falls Apart - Ashe & FINNEAS

This song is just Jily

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan art #wolfstar #harry potter marauders #remus x sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders au #incorrect marauders quotes #jily wedding #jily au #jily headcanon #incorrect jily quotes #jily fanart #jily #jily textpost #james and lily #james potter #lily potter #lily evans #lily evans potter #anti snily

[thisismegz]

✨✨ Blissful Oblivion ✨✨

"True love doesn't happen right away; it's an ever-growing process. It develops after you've gone through many ups and downs, when you've suffered together, cried together, laughed together."

~ Ricardo Montalban

When I read this quote, I thought it fitted perfectly with Hinny🥰

#harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny potter #ginny weasley #hinny #fearlessly red #harry potter fanfiction #ginevra weasley #harry potter aesthetic #harry potter moodboard #hinny fanart #pro hinny #hinnyedit #hinny fanfic #hinny au #hinny headcanon #hinny wedding #gryffindor #after battle of hogwarts #hogwarts #quidditch #Chaser Weasley #Seeker Potter #relationship goals #relationship #soulmate

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 10

We've come to the end my friends.

This is the last chapter for Francis & Spills and hopefully you'll enjoy it. I have had such a great time writing this story and have received so many lovely messages & asks about my two dumb idiot babies.

Although this is the end of the main story - you can always send in an ask about them because I will literally jump back in at the drop of a hat. (and who knows, might randomly drop a chapter / dabble if I get into my feelings)

Thanks for sticking with me!

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Fluff & general cuteness, Smut 18+ - dirty talk, p in v sex (NO MINORS + WRAP IT UP) language *time jump at the end - which has a little surprise* (let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

--------

Age: 29

He knew he shouldn’t have been nervous, but he couldn’t help it.

He was working on his feelings for her, on coming to terms with his hurt and his anger. Once the initial burn of it cooled he could admit to himself that they’d both been utterly stupid. Both were to blame for how things shook out.

He knew this was the right course of action. He knew from the way he felt right at this moment, getting ready to pick Spills up for their first official date. He’d never once in the whole time he’d been with Claudia felt like this.

He had decided to keep it simple. Dinner and a movie. Can’t fuck that up and after everything that had transpired, he needed simple. It had been a couple of weeks since their conversation and things were a little awkward at first - trying to navigate this new dynamic but their conversations had gotten more comfortable. Both of them agreed to make the first date official.

He couldn’t help but smile as he made his way over to her place, even though his stomach was in knots. Even though a small part of him was terrified to fuck this up. Nothing could be sadder for him than for this not to work and have them drift apart but when he saw her rushing over to his truck all the doubts and worries melted away.

Of course this’ll work. I love you.

“Ready?” He asked and the smile was bright on her face when she climbed in and buckled her seat belt.

“Of course. Where are you taking me?” She ran her fingers through his hair and he could have purred, the touch felt so right.

“To our place.” He pulled out and made his way over to Marcellos.

--

The food was just as good as you remembered. The two of you found your rhythm as you ordered your meals and when they came he wasted no time in tasting your food and offering his plate to you. You sighed at how your heart swelled. This was so easy - so natural and you kicked yourself mentally over and over for not opening your mouth earlier.

You’d been afraid that things would be awkward after your talk and at first it was. The conversations and texts were weird, impersonal and almost forced but after a little while it was easy to fall back into your friendship.

It was so easy because you were friends. You already had the solid foundations for this to work and you were going to put everything you had into it.

You laughed, and you ate, and you enjoyed each other's company - forgetting the time and when he ordered the tiramisu and two forks you smiled big.

“I already bought the movie tickets, so we should leave soon or we’ll miss the previews.” You told him as the waiter cleared the table.

“You did?” He was surprised. “What movie are we watching then?” He asked as he paid for dinner.

“I picked a horror movie, looked terrifying.” you pulled out the tickets and he laughed. Kissing your hand as he walked you out of the restaurant.

--

He paid for dinner, so you bought the movie and popcorn. You made it with enough time to get good seats in the middle of the theatre, for the best vantage point according to him. In reality you didn’t actually care where you sat.

He lifted the divider as soon as the two of you sat, making sure you could tuck yourself into his side at the scary bits and you wasted no time getting comfortable. His arm was around you reassuringly as the trailers started, the two of you whispering a bit too loudly, deciding what was worth your time and what wasn’t.

You tucked your face into his neck at the jump scares, asking in whispers if it was okay to look. You could feel the rumble of his chest when he laughed, not unkindly. Felt him kissing your forehead softly when it was okay to look.

Despite having already kissed before, despite having had sex once before - this felt so intimate. You looked up at him to find him already smiling at you, your heart racing at the closeness. At the tenderness on his face.

You kissed him. Petal soft and chaste at first but he deepened it, his big warm hand coming up to rest softly on your cheek. His tongue tasted like popcorn and sugar and you couldn’t help but smile into it at first. The movie forgotten, the fear morphing into warmth and desire for him. As far as you were concerned - this was your first real kiss, and it took your breath away.

The rest of the movie was spent with your head on his shoulder. His hand steadily rubbing your arm and his nose buried in your hair and you couldn’t remember ever having a better first date.

---

You left the theatre quietly, the walk back to the truck was a leisurely stroll. Both of you smiling to yourselves as you held hands, your other hand holding onto his arm - you couldn’t get close enough.

He walked you to the passenger side, pressing you up against it to kiss you again quickly. You could see that he was taking every opportunity to press his lips to yours and you let him. Both of you quiet, breathless and giddy. You didn’t need words. Not for this.

After placing a couple more onto your neck and cheeks he remembered himself, and opened the door for you, running around the truck to get in. His hand found its way into yours on your lap as he drove you home.

He walked you to your door and asking him to come in was on the tip of your tongue but he forestalled. Speaking before you could ask.

“I’m coming in to check every corner so you aren’t scared.” He followed you in, closing the door behind him as he spoke. “But I’m not staying over, as much as I want to. I want to take this slow.” He was looking at you and you could have cried, not from disappointment, but from regret. Regret at having wasted so much time - regret that it took so goddamn long for you to get the courage to tell him how you felt and he must have seen the emotion on your face because he was holding onto your face in a flash. Cradling your jaw softly.

“What’s wrong Spills? Did I go too fast?” His brow was furrowed and despite your happiness the regrets swallowed you whole, you couldn’t stop the first few tears from falling.

“No no! I’m sorry. This was perfect and I just- I feel bad that we waited so long and I wasted so much time and we should have done this so fucking long ago.” You couldn’t stop the sob from clawing it’s way up your throat as he held you and he sighed loudly. Pulling you into the crook of his neck within the soft glow of your home.

“No - stop honey. Stop crying please - this isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have blamed you for everything. We’ve both been absolute idiots and maybe if we’d talked about this like grown-ups years ago all this bullshit could have been avoided, please stop crying.” He kissed your forehead as you clung to him. The smell of his clothes, the feel of him against your skin - his voice in your ear. It was all home and the longer he held you the better you felt.

“Listen, I was angry and hurt but the more I think about it the more I realize that we’re both to blame but it’s okay because we’re starting again right?” He pulled away to tilt your face up to look at him.

“We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be and this is going to work. It’s going to work because as far as I’m concerned you’re it. You’re the only person for me and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Do you understand? Forget everything and focus on this.” He was looking at you so intensely it was hard not to cry all over again. “Tell me you understand honey.” He kissed your cheeks, one after the other.

“Yes, I understand. I feel the same way about you Francis.” You smiled a watery smile up at him and he returned it.

“Good, now I’m going to check before I leave- kiss you goodnight and then we’re going to go out again.” And he did.

—

“Good morning!” You climbed into the truck after putting your beach bag and your cooler in the back. His face smiling at you brightly as he leaned over to you, lips pursed. You kissed him and he handed you your hazelnut coffee.

“Good morning honey.” His good mood was shining through as he pulled away from your home and drove towards the beach, just the two of you. “Did you bring me breakfast?” He kept looking over to see if you had anything for him, which of course you did.

“Of course - open up.” You put the buttery bagel half in his mouth and he ate it with gusto.

---

The day was gorgeous, absolutely perfect for the beach and he set about getting the blankets and the umbrella ready for the two of you. You watched him, savouring the sight of his deft hands making quick work of everything.

“You’re staring at me Spills.” He said it with a smile on his lips and you didn’t look away.

“Yes I am.” You couldn’t help but match his tone - he turned to you then and leaned in to kiss you. He kissed you at every turn and you cherished it, you loved the way he showed his affection for you. He was a physical creature and he luxuriated in being close to you.

“Good.” He smiled as he handed you the sunscreen and once you'd finished, he made himself comfortable against you. He chose to sit with his back pressed up against your chest, between your legs - despite having laid out his own towel.

--

You were floating.

The water was enveloping you, lapping softly at your skin as you let it carry you. The sun was shining and you had your eyes closed to shield you from it. You had gone into the water first while Frances read but now he was there too, always an arms length away but it wasn’t close enough and you both fell back into your usual rhythm of splashing and teasing until you were wrapped around each other.

You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself up against him. Even in the cool water, his skin was warm and you felt as he wrapped your legs around his middle. His hands started at your waist, but they quickly moved down and held onto your ass. You laughed.

“What are you doing Francis?” You asked it with a smile, these days it felt like everything you did was with a smile.

“I’m holding onto you Spills.” He was nuzzling his nose into your neck, placing little kisses around your collar bones and up the column of your neck to your ear. You hadn’t had sex since the night before his wedding, the two of you agreeing to take it slow but his hunger for you was becoming more and more evident as the weeks rolled by. His hands roaming a little more each time you were together.

“Onto my ass?” You looked into his face, cherishing it.

“That’s right.” He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, wanting to be closer, always closer. “Do you not want me to?” He smiled lazily - biting at your ear playfully.

“I never said that.” You breathed out the words, he was affecting you and you had to remember that you were in public. You fell into a comfortable silence. The two of you happy to float in the water as well as your happiness alike.

“Francis?” You were staring out into the water as you spoke, your head resting over his shoulder.

“Hmm?” He was resting his head on yours, eyes on the shore.

“Promise me we’ll live near the ocean one day.” You rubbed his back, tracing lines into his skin with pruny fingers.

“I promise, one day we’ll have a little house by the ocean. You’ll be able to hear it when the windows are open.”

The two of you floated out there for a long time, peaceful and quiet and in love.

—-

Your hand found its way into his curls on the way home, the salt water always defined them and it was too inviting to ignore. He never minded.

His hand found its way onto your lap and the two of you were connected the whole way.

“Come in. Park the rustbucket and stay over.” You didn’t want him to leave, not yet. You were ready for the next step in your relationship.

“Are you sure?” He asked even though he was parking the truck.

“Yes, we can order in.” You smiled a smile that had nothing to do with food.

“You’re gonna kill me Spills.” He was hurriedly unbuckling his seat belt, he wanted this just as much as you did and you couldn’t get inside fast enough. When you were finally inside he almost tackled you. Crashing into you with a bruising force, mouth insistent and unforgiving in its need for you.

“I want it in my bed.” You were pulling his shirt off as you pushed him towards your room and he growled.

“What do you want, baby? Tell me.” He was pulling off your shirt, undoing the top piece of your bathing suit as you finally got him into your room.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me cum like you did before, make me feel good.” You pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. He wasted no time and within a few seconds your nipple was in his mouth. Your grip on his curls was tight as you held him close to your chest. His tongue a slow swirl around the pebbled peak of your breast. First one, then the other. He was ruthless in his teasing, sucking roughly and then biting softly.

“You want my cock baby?” He was kissing your chest as he held onto your ass, your clothed core pressed up against the stiffening pillar of his sex. The arousal was a burning coal in the pit of your stomach and every time he pulled you closer it burned hotter. Your cunt ached for him, drooling out your passion into your underwear, the threads of you unspooling for him at your entrance.

“Yes, give it to me - please.” You bit at his neck, tasting the salt of the ocean on his skin and he moaned. You used the momentary distraction to pull off him and finish undressing. You helped him pull off his swim trunks and you pulled him into your shower, both of you were still covered in sand and you wanted to wash the day off him.

His body curled around you as you turned the shower on. His cock was hard and pressed up against the cleft in your ass. His hands were around your waist, holding onto your belly; your breasts. Anything and everything he could get his hands on and you both laughed as you got into the shower. You dragged him under the hot spray, helping him wash the salt and sand from his skin and his hair and he did the same for you.

Once you were clean he pressed you up against the wall, the cool tile against your nipples made you hiss and he pulled your waist toward him, one hand on your back to tilt your pelvis enough for him to slide in.

“Can I fuck you like this baby?” He leaned forward to press a kiss to your neck. You wiggled your hips against him in response.

“Yes Francis, give it to me just like this - please.” He groaned as he rubbed his cock through your folds, even under the spray he could feel how wet you were and he slid in to the hilt. His pelvis flush with the plump skin of your ass. “Fuck, I feel so full - you’re so big.” You smiled at the groan he let out at your words.

“You’re so tight, feels so fucking good.” He snapped his hips, fucking into you hard and fast. Both of you so keyed up that this wouldn’t last and you knew it. “That’s it baby, take it. Just - like- that.” He held onto your shoulder for leverage and you reached down with one hand to rub at your clit.

“Yes, make yourself cum, soak my cock.” He pulled you up holding onto your breast as he split you open on his dick.

“I’m gonna cum…” Your orgasm crashed into you, making you clench around him while he sped up, chasing his own high and you felt it when he groaned into your ear. Felt him emptying himself into you.

—-

You were both naked, laying in your bed in the fading light of the sun. His head was resting on your chest as you played with his hair.

“I'm starving, have you seen my phone? We should order a pizza.” He got up and looked around and for a moment you couldn’t believe that your Francis was walking around your place naked. Even though he’d fucked you in the shower, even though he’d fucked you in your bed; made you cum with his fingers and his mouth and his cock. Your pleasure seemingly more important than his.

“I think you dropped it onto the counter when we came in.”

He came back with it in his hand and ordered your usual order before dropping it onto your nightstand.

“We have forty minutes until it gets here.” He smiled darkly as he crawled up between your legs and despite everything you’d done, you flushed, wrapping your arms and legs around him lazily.

“Better make them count.” You kissed him, and he did.

When the pizza finally came you needed another shower, which you took together. He stayed the night, and never went home again.

——

Age: 30

“Francis, wake up honey, happy birthday!” You were kissing his face, pulling him softly out of sleep. He groaned and smiled as he buried his face into your hair. His hand travelled down to grab at your ass. Even half asleep he pawed at you, making you laugh.

“Mmmph, sleep.” He mumbled onto your skin. Soft and pliant on the bed you shared.

“Francis, come on - get up so we can celebrate.” You pulled him away slightly so you could pepper his face with kisses, something he loved. “Come on baby, get up, I have a few surprises for you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. It was getting longer and you loved it like this.

“Are you naked?” He didn’t open his eyes but you felt his wits sharpening.

“No, that's later, I have other surprises for you, three of them. Hmm?” You waited a few minutes and he opened his eyes.

“Alright alright, I’m up. What’s the plan?” He yawned and stretched.

“The plan is they’re coming to get you in about half an hour so get dressed.” You got up out of bed pulling him up with you.

“Who?” He was lost.

“Your surprises.” He frowned and then it dawned on him.

“Pope? Benny and Will?” His eyebrows shot up in shock.

“Yes! They’re on their way so come on, up up let’s get you ready, they’re taking you out and then we’re going to have a big dinner.” He was moving on his own now and you could see how happy he was.

“Did you set this up?” He was brushing his teeth and you nodded.

“Yes I spoke to Pope a few weeks ago, thought it would make you happy to have them here for your birthday. They’re going to take you out for the morning and then we can meet up at your parents place for a big dinner.” You smiled at him.

“You’re not coming?” He frowned despite his joy at seeing his closest friends in a few minutes.

“No, you have your time with them and I’ll see you in a few hours.” He pulled you close.

“I love you Spills.” He kissed you, deep and insistent, all of his feelings for you behind it and you had to pull away as his phone went off.

“I love you too Francis, now get your ass in gear. See you later, have fun!” You pushed him out, patting him on the butt to get him moving.

———

Age: 33

“I am completely in love with it Francis, look at the windows!” You were walking through the little house like a kid in a candy store. Trying to take it all in.

“It’s really nice, floors are good.” He was looking at the wood, taking stock of the layout and the sturdiness of the staircase leading upstairs.

“Do you think we could afford it?” You were pulling him towards the kitchen, to the big window over the sink where you could just see the water. The yard was a little on the smaller side but it was big enough to put a little patio set and a grill, big enough for the three of you.

“Do you want it?” He stood behind you, his arms around your waist as you both stared out through the window.

“Yes, I think we’ll be really happy here. Do we have enough?” You turned to press a kiss to the stubble on his cheek.

“Yes, we have enough saved and with you going back to work we’ll be fine.” You felt the little hands then, grabbing at both of you and he bent down to pick up your daughter. She was tired and rested her head on his shoulder. “I think she likes it.” He ran his fingers through her soft curls as he kissed her forehead. You couldn't help but rub her little back as she melted into his shoulder.

“Open the window.” He gestured towards the latch and when you did you heard the soft sounds of the ocean drifting in. He was smiling at you, holding onto the little life you’d both created.

“Welcome home Spills."

--------------

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[matrixaffiliate]

Redamancy

New Story! FFN and AO3

"I've done something dumb." Lily groaned as she looked up at Marlene from the sofa. "If it's like every other dumb thing you've done, I'm going to my room." "No, this time I've done something well and truly stupid." Marlene eyed her from her lounge chair, skeptic to the last. "Out with it then." Lily took a deep breath. "I told Petunia I had a boyfriend."

A gift for lovely @petalstofish as part of the Potterverse Gift Exchange! Merry Christmas, love!

Redamancy

"I've done something dumb." Lily groaned as she looked up at Marlene from the sofa.

"If it's like every other dumb thing you've done, I'm going to my room."

"No, this time I've done something well and truly stupid."

Marlene eyed her from her lounge chair, skeptic to the last. "Out with it then."

Lily took a deep breath. "I told Petunia I had a boyfriend."

Marlene blinked. "Honestly, Lil, I thought you'd actually done something worth batting an eye at."

Lily groaned and tossed the card in her hand at Marlene. "Read that and tell me I haven't been an idiot."

Marlene shrugged and handed it back. "So Petunia gave you a plus one to her wedding for your non-existent boyfriend. Tell her that he can't make it because he can't get work off, or because he'll be with his family. Honestly, only your sister would get married on Boxing Day."

"Then she'll know I was lying!" Lily tossed the invitation on the sofa next to her. "The only reason she's even giving me the plus one is to call my bluff and then rub it in my face that I have no one and she has Vermin."

"I'd rather have no one than be saddled with that blob." Marlene came to sit next to her on the sofa. "Is it really that big of a deal? What if you brought me instead? My family doesn't have anything planned after Christmas."

"Yes and no." Lily leant against Marlene's shoulder. "I can't bring you because Petunia would kill me."

"Always happy to leave lasting impressions," Marlene chuckled. "Good to know that she hasn't forgotten it's not appropriate to infer a woman is a prostitute just because she enjoys leather pants."

Lily smiled at the memory, "Exactly. But I can't just show up alone because I'll never hear the end of how she sacrificed a seat at her wedding for my non-existent boyfriend and how awful and ungrateful a sister I am."

It was quiet between them for a moment and Lily tried to push away the dread building in her stomach by pulling her jumper tighter around her.

"Well, I guess you need a stand-in boyfriend."

Lily lifted her head from Marlene's shoulder. "A what?"

"Someone to play the part just for the day of the wedding."

"A fake boyfriend? Where on earth am I supposed to come up with a fake boyfriend in six weeks?"

"You could take Sirius," Marlene tapped her chin as she thought.

Lily shook her head. "No offense, but there's absolutely no way I'm pretending your friend with benefits is my boyfriend."

Marlene smirked but said nothing and Lily tried not to guess where her friend's mind was.

"Remus then?"

"He's with his family all that week. I'm not asking him to leave his mum just to be my date for one day. You know she's not doing well."

Marlene opened her mouth to say more but Lily cut her off.

"And before you say Peter, Petunia already knows he and Bridget got married last year."

"I wasn't going to say Peter," Marlene's smirk widened. "I happen to know that James is very much available the day after Christmas. According to Sirius, the Potters take Boxing Day as an excuse to not get out of their pajamas."

Lily felt her mouth go dry. "I can't ask James."

"Why not?"

"You know why not!" Lily fell back against the couch with a huff. "You do not ask the man you secretly fancy to be your fake boyfriend to your sister's wedding, and especially not when he'd rather be spending it with his family."

"Maybe this is a way for you to stop fancying him in secret."

"Or to ruin a perfectly good friendship."

"Can you think of anyone else?"

Lily groaned. "No. I guess this means Petunia wins this round."

Marlene stood, "Well, if you're willing to give up that easily, I'll leave you to it, but I still think you should ask James."

Lily felt Marlene's words like a bee sting.

She wasn't giving up, Lily reasoned as Marlene shut her door. She was admitting defeat.

But the longer she sat there listening to Marlene's speakers playing Fairytale of New York through her door, the more Lily didn't want this hanging over her head for the next seventy-five years. She didn't want this brought up at every family gathering. She didn't want Petunia to win.

And then, as if Fate was trying to give her a push, her phone buzzed with a text message from the man who might just be able to save her.

James: you busy?

Lily couldn't help the smile that streaked across her face as she read his text.

Lily: No. Just sitting on my couch.

James: i know its cold and very wet out, but would you maybe want to go for a hike with me? after last summer i promised mum i wouldn't go by myself anymore

Lily thought Mia was right to extract the promise from her son. He'd decided to try and save a young deer from some fishing line it had become tangled in, but the deer was obviously spooked and once free had kicked James in the chest, breaking four ribs in the process. He'd had to make his way almost a mile out to the trailhead while his ribs tried to puncture his lungs.

And while she would much prefer an early summer hike to a late autumn hike, Lily did have all the items to keep her dry and warm.

She could go, for Mia of course.

Lily: Sure, want me to meet you at the trailhead?

James: nah, ill be there to pick you up in 20

Lily responded with a thumbs-up emoji and then moved to get ready, wondering if Fate was trying to tell her that asking James to be her fake boyfriend for Petunia's wedding day was the right move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"This is beautiful," Lily sighed and looked out over the lake. A light frost still clung to a few of the shrubs surrounding them.

James bumped her shoulder, "See you should come out with me more often."

Lily paused. Maybe James had just given her the perfect way for both of them to get what they wanted.

"I have an idea."

"I bet it's a good one."

"You need someone to hike with, especially now that it's cold, so you can go as often as you used to."

James raised his eyebrows at her. "Yeah."

Lily bit her lip. "I need a plus one for Petunia's wedding, on Boxing Day."

"Why did she give you a plus one? That doesn't sound in character for your sister at all." James furrowed his brow.

"It is when you consider why she gave it to me." Lily fiddled with her water bottle.

"And what's the reason?"

"I got into a fight with her, again."

"That sounds like a reason she'd uninvite you."

"Well," Lily suddenly didn't feel like the idea was so amazing. "She dug into her having someone and me being single and I was so angry that I blurted out that I had a boyfriend."

James let out a low whistle.

"And this is her calling your bluff, huh?"

"Right." Lily kept her eyes on the dirt below her hiking shoes.

"Lily," James' gloved hand wrapped around hers and Lily forced an even breath. "Are you asking me to play your fake boyfriend for Petunia's wedding?"

"I'm sorry," Lily shook her head. "I shouldn't have-"

"Lily." James cut her off as he squeezed her hand. "Of course, I'll help you. And don't feel like you need to hike with me to get it. I'm your friend, I don't need a reason to help you."

"I'll still hike with you," Lily looked up, excitement and panic pounding through her so fast she wanted to rip off her coat. "I know how much you love hiking, I'll make sure I can come out with you at least once a week."

James laughed, "You'll have legs of steel and be ready to live with Father Christmas and his reindeer if we're out here once a week."

"I could use a good bout of exercise, combat the holiday weight and all." Lily bumped his shoulder. "But you're sure?"

James wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Lily couldn't help but lean into him. "I'm sure, Lils. Let's make Petunia look the fool."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ready for your date?" Marlene teased as she checked her red lips in Lily's mirror.

"This isn't a date."

"Sure it isn't."

"If this is a date then you and Sirius are more than just friends with benefits." Lily retorted.

Something flashed in Marlene's eyes but it was gone in an instant and she laughed. "Well played. So are you ready for your fake date with your fake boyfriend?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "James just thought we should practice before Saturday."

"And hiking with him every Saturday for a month and a half hasn't been enough practice?" Marlene sat on Lily's bed. "Or the increase in text messages and phone calls?"

"We're friends." Lily tried to brush off Marlene's digging. "All of those interactions we've just been friends. But James pointed out that we haven't practiced being closer and it's bound to look fake if the first time we hold hands or slow dance is at the wedding."

"So this is your dress rehearsal?" Marlene handed Lily her clutch.

"Exactly."

"Break a leg, I suppose. And may I add that you should practice kissing, just in case."

"Just in case what?" Lily felt heat rush to her cheeks. "What, why, why on earth would I need to kiss James at Petunia's wedding?"

Marlene hopped off Lily's bed with a smirk. "You never know."

Lily did know though, and there was absolutely no reason to give her stupid crush any more fuel than she already had. Seeing James so frequently and spending hours with him talking and laughing and just being together was giving her heart all sorts of fodder.

It really wasn't a good thing, but Lily wasn't about to stop it.

James was bailing her out of her lie, the least she could do was hike with him. And if hiking with him included hours of time spent close to him, and trips to the cafe afterward to warm up, well she'd just have to hope her heart didn't break when this all ended.

James knocked on the door as Lily checked her reflection once more, adjusting her dark green velvet top.

No, she was not dressing up for him...she was, she was trying to look festive, thank you very much. Christmas was just a week away. It was normal to dress up for Christmas.

"Wow," James blinked at her from the front step, his black coat undone to reveal his blue jumper.

"Oh," Lily felt panic starting to form in her chest, "Am I dressed up too much? I didn't even think to ask you what we were doing. I-"

"Lily," James chuckled, "It's just dinner and a little Christmas concert at a pub my parents suggested."

"Right, good, that'll be good, to practice I mean." She fiddled with the neckline of her blouse.

James looked down at his shoes a moment before smiling back at her.

"Shall we practice then?" He held out his hand.

Lily swallowed but forced a smile as she slipped on her coat and took his hand. Electricity tingled through her fingers and palm all the way up her arm and across her neck, leaving Lily gasping for breath.

"Yeah." Embarrassed by the lack of substance behind her voice, Lily cleared her throat and tried again. "This was a good idea."

James' hazel eyes had gone dark, his smile shifting as he looked down at her.

"I think so too."

James apparently meant what he said about practicing being a real couple. He didn't stop touching Lily at all through the entire night, and it was a problem because that hold she was trying to keep on her heart stood no chance against James' constant touch.

His hand was on her back, then his fingers were intertwined with hers.

While they sat at dinner his foot found hers and slid from her ankle up her calf and back again.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders at the concert and when he spoke to her he leant in close enough that his warm breath teased her neck with its gentle kiss.

And Lily leant into all of it.

She couldn't help herself.

Every time she bothered to realize where her hands were she'd find they were wrapped around James, his hands, his arms, his waist, even gripping his jumper at one point. She was honestly surprised that she hadn't unknowingly put them in his hair.

This pretending was too easy. Lily was too attached to James to keep this fake, and she knew it.

But what could she do?

"Let's go to the back and dance," James' voice was low as his lips brushed against her ear. The band was playing their rendition of Silver Bells , perfect for a slow dance.

Lily looked to the back of the pub, ready to say that they shouldn't, only to find at least ten other couples already swaying slowly as they held each other close.

"Come on." James' took her hand. "It'll be good practice."

Right, practice.

Lily tried not to let her disappointment at the reason James was being this close to her show on her face.

"Good idea," She smiled up at him and let James lead her to where the other couples were dancing.

She assumed he'd take her hand and lead her through some dance that his posh upbringing would have taught him and she would attempt to stumble her way through it. She had even watched and practiced with a few YouTube tutorials, trying to not make both of them look like fools.

James, however, had other ideas.

He spun her around once, then caught her elbows and guided her arms up around his neck. His hands traced along her arms, lighting her up like a Christmas tree, then down her sides to rest on her hips, pulling her closer.

Every single touch left Lily buzzing. Gasping. Silently hoping for just a bit more.

"Has tonight been alright?" James' thumbs rubbed against her hips and Lily struggled to think straight.

"It's been a wonderful fake date," Lily braved a smile.

"Not too weird to pretend to be madly in love with a tosser like me?"

Lily shook her head, hoping he couldn't see in her eyes how much her silly crush was shifting to a whole new level.

A dangerous level.

"Not at all."

"And this is alright?" James leant his forehead into hers, pulling her just a little closer.

Lily couldn't breathe.

She barely managed an affirmative hum.

"Good," James' voice slid through her like a silk cord, wrapping around her heart and slipping it from the desperate grip she was trying to keep on it.

She should say something. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lily knew she should say something and break the spell James had woven around her.

She should say something.

Then James pulled her closer, wrapping his arms completely around her waist, bringing their bodies flush against each other, and Lily lost the battle.

There were no two ways about it. In her attempt to thwart Petunia in calling her bluff, Lily had gone and given her heart to James. She'd spent a solid two years being ever so careful, keeping just enough distance between herself and him so that she wouldn't lose his friendship over a silly crush that surely would fade away given enough time. It was out the window now. Nothing she could do would ever put them back to where they'd been before. James could never be just a friend after this.

And to keep herself from the tears, she rested her head against James' shoulder and pretended that the way he held her like he'd given his heart too was real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Excited?" Marlene came walking into Lily's bedroom, handing over the red heels she was lending to Lily.

Lily put on a smile and nodded as she slipped into the shoes, completing the very Christmas-y ensemble when paired with her green and white dress and her hair swept up with a white poinsettia clip. Not being a bridesmaid stung, but had the fringe benefit of wearing exactly what she wanted.

"It'll be good to see Petunia's face when she realizes that I've actually brought a date."

"Not just a date," Marlene slid onto Lily's bed, "A boyfriend."

Lily tried not to let the sting she felt at Marlene's comment show on her face.

From Marlene's expression, she failed.

"What's wrong?"

Lily shook her head. "Nothing."

"No, not nothing, what's going on?"

"Really Mar, it's nothing."

"Did James hurt you? Because if he did I'm going to-"

"James didn't do anything," Lily quickly cut off her friend.

"Then what's going on?"

"I've done something dumb."

"Will you stop that?" Marlene demanded. "You don't do dumb things!"

Lily's returning laugh was humorless. "Falling for your fake boyfriend is pretty dumb, Marlene."

"Finally!" Marlene squealed, jumping up from the bed and wrapping Lily in a hug.

"This isn't a good thing!" Lily protested, pushing Marlene off of her. "James and I are friends!"

"The best relationships are based on friendship, Lils."

"But he doesn't feel that way about me!"

"BS," Marlene started typing on her phone.

"Don't you dare text him!" Lily lunged for Marlene's phone but she jumped out of the way.

"Chill! I'm texting Sirius! And you usually don't like when I share these texts but if you really want reassurance you're welcome to read the whole thread."

"Ew," Lily grimaced. "Fine, but please don't intervene. James doesn't feel the same way about me and I'm trying to figure out how to stop these feelings before he realizes that I'm overly attached and ends our friendship."

"And Sirius calls me dramatic." Marlene threw her curls over her shoulder. "Look, just talk to him about it, alright? Do it tonight."

Lily's phone rang and she swallowed at James' smiling face on her screen.

"James is probably here, I'll see you tonight."

Marlene winked at her. "Or tomorrow morning works too."

Lily glared at Marlene's back but tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she answered her phone.

"Hi, James."

"Hey, Lils, I'm just about to yours, but I wanted to know if you prefer almond poppy seed, blueberry, banana nut, or chocolate chunk muffins?"

"They're all good to me, James." She adjusted the neckline of her dress.

"Now, now, don't be like that. Which sounds amazing right now?"

Lily licked her lips. "Honestly, the chocolate chunk, but you really don't-"

"Perfect, I'll be there in ten minutes."

And he ended the call.

Lily stared at her phone, wondering if James really planned to bring muffins to her sister's wedding, before deciding that she'd wait by the window so she could meet him at his car when he arrived. The last thing she wanted was Marlene "accidentally" blurting out things she had no business telling people - mainly James.

True to his word, ten minutes later James rolled up. He jumped out of his car but stumbled when he saw Lily walking towards him.

"I know I keep saying this, but, wow."

Lily smiled, "You look good all bundled up in your coat too."

"Well thank you. Wait till you see this suit without the coat." James closed the distance between them and offered Lily his arm.

"I hope this dress can keep up with it." Lily laughed and took his arm.

"Shall we go and shock your sister?"

"Yes, let's go give Petunia a stomach ulcer."

James' laugh was a booming sound that filled Lily with a warmth that had her wanting to curl up in front of a cozy lit fireplace with him.

But she forced herself to pull away.

She had to stop leaning into him or she'd never salvage any piece of their friendship.

"Now." James slid into the driver's seat. "This box here has two chocolate chunk muffins in it." He handed her the small box. "And this is your tea. I figured we should have some sort of pick-me-up before going into this. And I've noticed many wedding planners forget that people need to eat at these things. So we're covered on all fronts."

Lily swallowed the sudden rush of emotion that hit her.

"Thank you,"

"This is where you tell me what an excellent fake-boyfriend I am," James smirked as he pulled out of the parking space.

Lily laughed, grateful for the humor that broke through her anxiety. Maybe, if he kept her laughing, she could make it through today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lily! Who is this?!" Petunia's lips were pressed into the thinnest line Lily had ever seen and her words were sharp as daggers.

"Hi Tuney, this is James, my boyfriend." Lily stepped closer to James, not difficult to do in the small bride's dressing room of the venue Petunia had chosen.

"Your boyfriend?!" Her skin was as pale as the white satin of her wedding dress. "You don't have a boyfriend! You were lying to me! Mum told me you hadn't said anything about seeing someone!"

"Then why, might I ask." James wrapped a protective arm around Lily's waist, pulling her close against him. "Did you include an invite for me if you didn't believe I existed?"

Petunia's glare shifted to James. "I do not know who you are and I do not have to answer you."

Lily felt her temper flare. "I don't care that this is your wedding Petunia, you do actually have to be nice to James."

Heaven knew how much of Vernon Lily had endured.

Petunia opened her mouth to respond but was cut off.

"Lily!" Their mum came into the already crowded room. "I'm so glad you're here, and who is this?"

"James Potter, Mrs. Evans," James took her mum's hand and kissed it as he bent slightly at the hip. "I'm Lily's boyfriend."

Lily's mum smiled broadly, "Well, I'm very happy to meet you!" She turned to Petunia. "That was thoughtful of you to let Lily have her boyfriend here, dear."

"I, I, I-" Petunia stuttered.

"Lily, why don't you take James and get your seats up by mine and your father's." Her mum hugged her with a twinkle in her eye. "We'll be along in about twenty minutes and then we'll have pictures after the ceremony. It'll be another thirty or so minutes after that for dinner."

Lily put on a smile, "Sounds brilliant." She kissed her mum's cheek before taking James' proffered arm and leaving her sister gaping after them.

"That went well," James joked.

"I think Mum knows something is up." Lily swallowed as the unease settled in her stomach.

They walked into the main hall, devoid of any and all Christmas decor. As if getting married on Boxing Day somehow meant Petunia wasn't having her wedding at Christmas time.

"If she does, she took our side back there." James stepped to the side as Lily took her seat. "Besides, I'm so charming she probably forgot to suspect anything."

Lily shoved him but laughed. "Could your head get any bigger?"

"Not so long as I've got you and my mum around." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. "Relax, Lils, we've got this."

"I hope so."

But as people started coming up to say hello, Lily realized she absolutely did not have this.

Family friends, people she'd known since she was a kid, were coming up and genuinely happy, excited even, to meet her boyfriend. Treating James like one of the family. Making it that much harder for Lily to put distance between her heart and James, between her and James.

Thankfully, and ironically, Petunia saved her from any more well-meaning family or friends by getting the show underway.

But that opened more opportunities for her heart to cling to the facade of a relationship she and James were portraying. The ceremony was beautifully given, and the officiant made Lily long for the kind of companionship they counseled the couple to cultivate and build together. James' arm around her shoulders through the whole thing only served to remind her she'd never have it with him.

And it broke her heart.

The crushing feeling in her chest.

The tightness in her throat that she couldn't swallow away.

The blur of moisture in her vision.

She needed space.

Now.

Before she did something stupid.

Like give in to every desire of her heart and kiss him.

After a quick congratulations to Petunia and Vernon, Lily told James she was stepping to the loo.

And bolted.

Staring herself down in the mirror over the sink, Lily fought for control.

She would not cry.

She absolutely would not cry.

She would be strong.

She would control her heart.

She would get over this.

Over James.

That thought made her stomach cramp.

Lovely.

Now she might cry and vomit.

"Lily?"

Lily turned from gripping the sink to face her mum.

"Hi Mum," Lily forced a smile.

Her mum wrapped her in a long hug. "Darling, what's going on? And please tell me that lovely James is not a paid escort."

Lily couldn't help the laughter that nearly exploded out of her.

"He's a friend, Mum."

"But not your boyfriend?"

Lily looked down at her heels.

"Lily, I could tell two things when I walked into that room and the first one was that you and your sister were trying to outmaneuver each other again."

"She was just so infuriating!" Lily felt the anger seeping back in. "She kept going on and on how when I finally found a man who would look past all my freakishness I'd see her side of it. That I was somehow this poor deprived soul because I wasn't getting married right now!"

"You're not a freak, my Lily." Her mum pulled her back into a hug. "You're the opposite and if I'd known your sister was still calling you that I would have threatened her wedding favors for it."

Lily chuckled and tried to swallow down the threatening tears. "You shouldn't have to keep pushing her to be a decent human being. I'm getting better at handling her."

"Like telling her you had a boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Lily sighed in defeat and rested back against the sink. "But then she called my bluff."

"So you asked James to be your stand-in?"

"He's a good friend, and has put up with more than he deserves already."

"And he's quite taken with you."

Lily paused as her heart latched on to her mum's words. "James is a friend."

"I told you, I could tell two things when I walked in that dressing room, and the second was that the man standing next to you was head over heels for you."

Lily shook her head, but her mother continued.

"I've got a sense about these things, but even if I didn't, it's not hard to catch. Haven't any of your friends pointed it out to you?"

Marlene's insistence over the last two years echoed in her mind, along with the not so subtle hints Sirius had been giving and Lily had written off as teasing.

"You're not the first to mention it."

Her mum squeezed her arm. "So be the woman I raised you to be and make that boy out there yours."

Lily shook her head as a tear escaped down her cheek. "What if he doesn't feel that way about me? What if I lose our entire friendship?"

Her mum pulled her into a hug. "Then I'll be there to help you move forward. But my mother's sense tells me that isn't what's going to happen."

Lily buried her head in her mum's shoulder, breathing in the comforting warmth. "Promise?"

"Promise. I'll even smuggle you out of here if you need it." She nudged Lily to look up at her. "Now, let's get these pictures out of the way and you and James can go find a quiet spot to talk before dinner."

Lily took a deep breath and linked her arm with her mum's trying to give herself courage. "Right, I can do this."

"There's my girl."

Lily didn't know if it was her mum squeezing her arm or the smile James turned on her when she walked up to him, but for the first time since she got the plus one on her invite, Lily felt like maybe she did have this.

Pictures went quickly and James kept his smile on her from his spot near the door until she was assured that she was free till the dinner.

"Hey Lils." James pulled her under his arm. "Everything alright?"

"I think so," Lily smiled up at him. "Want to go find someplace where we can sit for a bit?"

"Definitely." And for the first time, Lily noticed that when James looked at her, his eyes dropped for the briefest moment to her lips.

Maybe her mum - and Marlene - were right.

They meandered through the venue till they found an out of the way bench looking out at the Christmas lights adorning the trees and light posts in the car park. They claimed it for themselves and spent the first few moments enjoying the beauty before them.

"James," Lily broke the silence as she rested her hands in her lap, her fingers running over the red and gold polish of her Christmas manicure. "I really appreciate all of this."

James' hand came to close over hers. "Anything for you, Lils."

Lily stared at their hands, focused on how right it felt to look down and see his fingers intertwined with hers, finding courage in it.

"Have, have you noticed that we're, well, we're kind of good at this?"

"At what, exactly?"

"Well, at being together, being more than what we started as."

His free hand came up to gently cup her chin, guiding her eyes to meet his, the hazel so dark it might have been black.

"What are you saying, Lily?"

Her breath was much harder to pull with his fingers caressing her face, but Lily gave it her best effort.

"I don't want to pretend anymore that I don't fancy you."

James' smile split his face nearly in half and he squeezed her hand. "I would really like to stop pretending I don't fancy you as well."

Lily didn't think she could pull a full breath if her life depended on it, and her voice squeaked as she asked, "Really?"

James nodded as he moved forward at a snail's pace, slowly closing the distance between them.

Then Lily heard her mother's advice echo in her mind; make that boy yours .

She lunged forward.

There was no other word for it.

Lily pushed forward, leveraging off of her knees, and closed what little distance between them James had yet to cover.

Her lips pressed to his in what could only be called bliss.

Finally, finally, every daydream, every hope her heart had secretly harbored, nothing compared to finally having her lips pressed to his.

Lily slowly let their lips part, only to have James move with lightning speed. His hands moved instantly from her chin and fingers to wrap around her waist, nearly pulling her into his lap. His lips were back to hers, this time his tongue tasting, savoring, teasing. And somewhere in that lightning second, Lily realized that her arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling James flush against her, her fingers tangling in his hair.

It was a member of the staff, ushering guests to where the dinner would be served, that managed to make the young couple surface for air.

"Really." James rested his forehead against hers, his hands sliding up and down her waist.

"So are we a real couple now?"

"If not, tell me what will make us a real couple and I'll make it happen."

Lily laughed, leaning in to kiss him again. "I think we need to make plans for a real first date."

"What are you doing on New Year's Eve?"

"Just the McKinnon's party."

"Will you go as my date?"

Lily felt her smile reach cartoon level in size and she couldn't help but laugh as she nodded.

"I'd love to."

James kissed her again. "Happy Christmas, Lily."

"Happy Christmas, James."

#redamancy #potterverse gift exchange #harry potter fanfiction #jily #james x lily #james potter x lily evans #james potter #lily evans #muggle au #marauders #fake dating #romance #fluff #wedding date #christmas fic

[flannelepicurean]

Okay, can we please talk about an AU where Johnny and Danny got their shit together way sooner and figured out how raging hot they are for each other’s bods and started bangin’ it out and then fooled around and fell in love and eventually decided, shit, maybe we should just settle down together, and so now Johnny Lawrence finds himself standing at the altar in a rented suit (which is not white because he blustered to Danny that was just, like, a bridge too far, but really he was just kinda nervous that he’d never be able to keep it clean for that long), and he’s doing all his breathing techniques and standing very still and trying not to fidget, and he starts to panic a little about what could be taking so long, but then there’s music, and he looks up, and Daniel Larusso is strolling up the aisle in a white tux (which he glibly insisted on getting after Johnny’s comment about it being too over-the-top), and he’s absolutely glowing, and Johnny’s breath catches, and oh my God, maybe there are good and gentle things in the world after all, and his eyes start to sting a little, and things get a little blurry, and then someone good and gentle is standing in front of him, taking his hands, and there are tears shining in those wide, brown eyes, too, and Danny doesn’t have to even mouth the words, “I love you,” he just gives a sincere little nod and Johnny immediately knows what he means, and he takes a deep breath and nods back, and they smile at each other for a second, and then the ceremony starts, and Johnny’s voice only cracks a little bit while he’s saying his vows, but Danny’s there to anchor him, and their first kiss as a MARRIED COUPLE is so loving that everyone is moved to tears, and they stare into each other’s eyes like they can’t even believe this is happening, but at the same time this is so good and right and fitting, and then they grin, and some hair metal starts playing because Danny let Johnny pick the exit music, and their second kiss is fierce and sexy, and they lift their joined hands in the air like they just won a big tournament, and there’s infinite joy, and Johnny knows in his heart things are going to be different for him now, because there are good and gentle things in the world, and in his life, and by his side. 

CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT THAT?!

#fanfiction #fanfic #au #cobra kai #johnny lawrence #danny larusso #wedding au #romance #fic idea #i need #it's killing me #lawrusso

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Snow One Else But You - Part 2

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

As disasters outside of Aelin and Rowan’s control threaten to ruin their beautifully elaborate Winter Solstice wedding, they and their friends try to find a way to save the day.

Written for 12 Days of Rowaelin, Day 2: First Snowfall

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Wintery Collection | 12 Days of Rowaelin

Warnings: Language

2367 words

***

“Here, you can wear these,” Lysandra said as she handed Aelin a pair of white lace-up sneakers. “Your feet will freeze before you make it down the aisle if you wear your heels, and I don’t think you want to spend the ceremony with numb feet.”

Aelin rolled her eyes but took the shoes from Lysandra with a smirk. “Isn’t that why the heaters are out there? So we don’t freeze?”

Her Maid of Honor leveled her a flat stare even as her lips twitched to the side. “Don’t argue with me. I’m here to make sure you feel nothing but perfect during the ceremony.”

Once Aelin and Rowan had agreed to have their wedding out on the deck that had been beautifully decorated by their friends, Lysandra and Elide stole Aelin away to get ready with barely a moment to kiss Rowan before she was being herded back to her room.

She had no doubt Rowan was currently being sequestered in one of the other rooms with his groomsmen, waiting until Lysandra gave them the go-ahead to start the ceremony.

The door opened and Lysandra was immediately on her feet and blocking the room from view.

“Relax,” Elide laughed, coming in and taking a seat on the bed. “it’s just me.”

Lysandra smirked, “Can’t be too careful, we don’t want any of the men in here just yet.” Then she turned towards the bottle of champagne chilling in the ice bucket and popped off the cork. Grinning, she poured three glasses and handed one each to Aelin and Elide.

“A toast,” Lysandra said, raising her glass, “to you, Aelin, who won’t let some stupid ice stop you from marrying your wonderful Loverboy.” Aelin snorted, but Lysandra winked and added, nodding to Elide, “and to us, we did a damn good job of pulling this off.” She laughed as they cheersed

Shortly after the ladies helped Aelin into her dress, another knock sounded.

“Everyone decent in there?” Aedion asked from the hall. “Can I come in?”

As Lysandra went to let Aedion in, Elide finished pinning a few strands of Aelin’s hair back and out of her face. They’d decided to keep it simple. It felt right, Aelin thought, that with this ceremony turning into a small, intimate affair instead of the large, flashy one they’d planned, it was fitting to do away with the intricate stylings and opt for a simplistic look. Her hair flowed in waves down her back with a few shorter locks pulled away from her face and pinned back with gold clips.

She stood from her seat when Elide finished and brushed a hand over the smooth fabric of her dress. The bodice clung to her, dipping in a deep V held up by thin straps, its fabric embroidered with intricate designs, accentuating her curves. The skirt flowed to the ground with the same embroidery, but it lost the modesty of its length with the large slit climbing up her left side from her ankle to her hip. She smiled at the sneakers Lysandra had given her, they would be far more comfortable than the heels she had planned on wearing.

In the mirror, Aelin saw Aedion walk in and she turned to face him.

“Ael,” he ran a hand through his golden hair, the same shade as hers, and cleared his throat. “Rowan won’t know what hit him.”

She laughed, spinning around as she walked closer so he could see the full effect.

“Of course he won’t,” Lysandra chimed in, grinning wickedly as she rested her chin on Aedion’s shoulder, “your cousin’s a knockout.”

He huffed a laugh as he turned towards his girlfriend. “And you, are stunning.”

Aelin and Elide shared a grin but gave the couple a moment of privacy. When a moment turned into a minute, then two, the Bride cleared her throat and asked her cousin, “Is there a reason you stopped by? Other than to make out with my Maid of Honor?”

He smirked, but a faint blush crept up on each of their cheeks. “I just wanted to see how you ladies were doing.” He cocked his head towards Elide. “Lorcan looked like he was seconds away from tearing off his tie and using it to strange himself until you texted him, so whatever you told him—nice job.”

The shorter girl smirked. “I just told him that it’d be in his best interest if that tie wasn’t ripped apart.”

Aelin snorted. “And that worked?”

“It did when I explained how he could use it later.” She winked.

Aelin and Lysandra met each other’s eyes and started laughing along with Elide. Aedion snickered but looked more like he regretted opening this conversation. When they quieted, Lysandra grabbed Aedion’s’ hand and looked at his watch.

“We’re almost ready,” she told him, maneuvering him out the door. “Why don’t you boys get into position, and we’ll meet you soon.”

“Okay, and Aelin?” he turned around before Lysandra closed the door in his face. Aelin raised a brow and waited for him to go on. “I’m glad it’s you and Rowan, you both deserve this happiness.”

She gave him another warm smile, her throat suddenly tight. “Thank you, Aed.”

With one last nod, he left.

***

Aelin could hear music playing through the closed wooden door as she, Lysandra, and Elide stood at the base of the stairs near the exit. Try as she might, Aelin hadn’t developed x-ray vision in the last minute, but was eyeing the door as if she could see out onto the deck. Elide and Lysandra shared a knowing look.

The shorter girl fixed a loose strand of hair on Aelin’s head before saying, “Okay, I’m gonna go out there. Whatever you do, don’t trip.” Elide winked and smiled, and was out the door.

Aelin huffed a laugh as Lysandra handed her a bouquet. She gasped at the blooming kingsflame flowers in her hands. Her eyes shot to Lysandra’s who was looking mighty smug at Aelin’s surprise. “How—where did you get these?” she breathed.

Her friend smirked, “I have my ways.”

Aelin arched a brow, waiting for Lysandra to answer her.

She rolled her eyes, “Did you forget you used them for the centerpiece at the head table?”

“Oh,” Aelin nodded, eyes lighting up as she remembered that particular detail. “Right.”

Lysandra’s smirk softened, “Are you ready? Cause if you’re not, we can bolt out here. I’ve got a bag packed and I’m sure if we drive fast enough, we’ll just fly over the ice.” She added teasingly.

Aelin huffed a laugh and nudged Lysandra with an elbow. She had waited this entire day for nerves to set in, especially in the last hour once they’d decided this was really happening. But there was nothing. No nervousness, anxiety, or fear.

Only certainty.

Taking Lysandra’s hand, she nodded. “I’m ready.”

Lysandra squeezed her hand once and smiled. “Good.” She let go and glanced at the doors. “Alright, I’m going to go out there. Wait one minute, then come on out. Okay?”

Aelin was nodding before Lysandra finished talking, her smile wide. “Perfect.”

With one last nod, Lysandra walked outside.

Standing in front of those doors, knowing what was waiting for her beyond them, it suddenly hit Aelin how real this moment was. Again, she waited for her heart rate to spike or for her palms to get sweaty in apprehension. But all she felt was calm. Because she knew—her heart knew—that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

Counting to sixty, Aelin took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

It wasn’t the elaborate ceremony she’d spent months planning. It wasn’t the meticulously timed, theatric kiss. This wasn’t the wedding she had pictured for nearly the last year.

But that didn’t matter.

Because it was Rowan.

And it was their friends.

So it didn’t matter that it wasn’t what she imagined, because it was perfect.

The candles had all been relit and were casting a golden glow around the deck. Aelin clutched her bouquet of kingsflame as she followed the candlelit path down the aisle.

Her eyes instantly found Rowan’s, and for a moment the rest of the world dropped away. She forgot about the chaos of the day, and the disappointment that had hovered around them until they’d seen what their friends had done. The music faded and the chill even felt a little more bearable. She looked into the face of the man who was her truest partner, his eyes glistening and filled with such joy and love, and felt the greatest sense of peace.

The moment stretched for minutes, days, a lifetime—then she blinked, and the rest of the world came back in a rush.

Aelin’s smile was bright as she tore her eyes away from Rowan and looked at her friends—her family.

Fenrys stood at the far right of their group, smiling wide and flashing her a thumbs up as she looked at him. Next to him stood Lysandra who already had a tear running down her cheek. A dog’s bark startled Aelin and it took her a second to realize Lysandra was holding up a phone. On the screen, she could see Fleetfoot in Evangeline’s lap, the girl waving happily and Fleetfoot barking a few more times as she saw Aelin. In the middle stood Aedion. He looked so proud and Aelin swore he sniffed a little as she mouthed love you. Then there was Elide who was grinning fiercely, and she, too, was holding a phone in her spare hand. This time, Aelin saw Dorian and Manon trying to fit into the frame, the former whistling, and the latter smirking. Lorcan even had a rare smile on his face as he stood on the left edge of the group.

And of course, right in front of her, was Rowan. He looked distractingly handsome in his tailored suit, defining the hard lines of his body in the best way. His tie was a deep pine green that matched his eyes, and his hair had been elegantly tousled. His smile lit up his face and as she looked at him, hers grew impossibly wide. She kept her gaze locked with his as she made it to the end of the aisle

Aelin didn’t hear what was said next as Rowan took her hands in his. She knew Aedion was talking, probably spouting some sentimental and maybe embarrassing story. She knew she should feel bad for tuning out her own wedding ceremony, especially after everything that had happened to make it happen, but all she could do was focus on the man in front of her.

Lucky for her, he seemed to feel the same way.

She couldn’t help it. Aelin surged forward and kissed Rowan, pouring all her emotion into the kiss. He didn't hesitate as his hands held her hips and pulled her flush against him.

A pointed cough from beside them made them break apart.

Aedion loosed a long-suffering sigh, but Aelin could see the amusement in his face. “You’re supposed to wait until after I declare you husband and wife to do that.”

Chuckles echoed amongst the group as Aelin smirked. Sharing a look with Rowan she knew neither of them was the least bit sorry.

“Then come on,” she told her cousin, her eyes not leaving Rowan’s, “marry us already. I want to kiss my husband.”

Rowan’s eyes sparked at the word and Aelin smirked. She was sure Aedion was rolling his eyes, but he continued.

When it was time for the rings, Lorcan stepped forward and handed them each a silver band that had the same decorative pattern as the forks they’d chosen for the place settings. She laughed and surprised him when she squeezed his hand in thanks. The tall man nodded and took up his position once more.

Aelin and Rowan had chosen to forgo the vows during the ceremony. It made more sense when they were supposed to have a large wedding and not this intimate one with their closest friends, but still, as Aelin pushed the makeshift ring onto Rowan’s finger, her eyes glowed as she remembered their private vows.

Rowan’s smile softened, he too remembering their morning when they’d woken up before sunrise, snuck out to the small balcony of their room in the faint light, and exchanged quiet vows to each other as the sun rose over the horizon. They didn’t need to share those words with anyone else. Those vows were for their ears only. And sharing a small, private smile, Aelin knew that that had been the right call.

“Aelin, Rowan,” Aedion paused and looked at both of them, “by the power vested in me, by so you want to be ordained dot com, it is my honor and privilege to pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—”

Aelin missed the rest of Aedion’s words as she gripped the lapels of Rowan’s suit and pulled him down towards her at the same moment he banded his arms around her waist. She was ready for a kiss that was hard and passionate, but Rowan met her with a slow, deep kiss that was somehow even better. She melted into it.

And then she felt something cold land on her head. Her arms and shoulders, too. They broke apart, still wrapped up in each other, but Aelin tipped her head back and choked on a startled laugh.

It was snowing.

Cheers and whistles echoed around them as Aelin and Rowan gazed at the first snowfall of the season. It was soft and light, and no one could keep the joy off their faces as they watched it fall. It was beautiful in the glow of the lights and candle flames.

Aelin looked back at Rowan and he kissed her again, this time it was what she’d been expecting. They were both smiling into the kiss, and then Rowan was dipping her, and she had to break away because it was all teeth as they both grinned madly.

From somewhere near her, Aelin thought she heard someone mutter, “Only Aelin would still manage to have a dramatic as fuck first kiss.”

***

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @rowaelinrambling @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @themoonthestarsthesuriel @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @the-lonelybarricade @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111

#rowaelin #aelin #rowan #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fic #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #tog #throne of glass #winter solstice #wedding #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #fenrys moonbeam #lysandra ennar #aedion ashryver #12daysofrowaelin #12 days of rowaelin

[1dfanfictionbookcovers]

Sun Means The Sky'll Be Blue, by PearlyDewdrops ( @moonhusbands )

As the only singleton under thirty attending his cousin's five-day wedding, Harry is desperate to find a date, or at least a reason to get people's questions about his love life off his back. So when Louis, Harry's old uni roommate and fellow wedding attendee waltzes back into his life, Harry seizes the opportunity, pretending Louis is his ex-boyfriend and that it's a sore subject not to be mentioned. If it's a little bit closer to the truth than Harry would like, well, he's a master at living in denial. So cue a mess of trudged-up feelings, past misunderstandings, a rekindled summer romance and a whole lot of sexually-charged bickering.

Pictures I used: For the paper-book cover: xx (: Epub other covers: One, Two, Three

#thelarriefics #trackinghome #hlcreators #ao3 writer #ao3 #Larry fanficion #pearlydewdrops #sun means the sky'll be blue #wedding au #exes to lovers #90k #fanfiction book covers

[possessingtheproperspirit]

Chapter 3.

Two weeks till the wedding. Lunch with the Potter and Evans parents; another jog, complete with helpful commentary from Sirius; James has to take a work trip; a night out takes an inevitable turn.

Rated M.

Read on AO3 -- FFN.

Read from the beginning.

#the waiting game #fic #jily #jily fic #jily fanfiction #muggle au #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #wedding #rated m #more talk of wanking #lily evans

[wardenparker]

From Dorne, with Love - part 3

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Your little sister is marrying her fairy tale princess on the exotic desert island nation of Dorne. Your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s playboy uncle is the other member of the wedding party along with you, but will your opposite approaches to life drive you apart before the ceremony even begins? Or is it possibly the beginning of a future you never thought possible?

Rating: E is for Explicit, my lovelies! Word Count: 8.8k Warnings:  *Some instances of reader being pig-headedly stubborn and some ‘ugly American’ moments, but we learn and grow in this house. Another one of our patented shitty families.* Soft dom/sub tones, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, begging, praise. Mentions of family member death. Summary: A visceral dream leads you to knock on Oberyn’s door before sunrise on Lily and Aja’s wedding day. Notes: I...I just...I fucking love Oberyn so much, okay?

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Epilogue

It’s the rumble outside your windows that wakes you as much as your dreams do. Thunder without rain isn’t something you’ve seen before, but it shakes the earth and seems to rattle your windows all the same - tearing you away from the beautiful dream of Oberyn’s hands on your body that you had been having right before the chandelier hanging from your bedroom ceiling rattled riotously. 

Wake up burning and throbbing… that had been his prediction, and the fact that he was right made you both want to go across the hall and insist he take care of it, and also hide in this bed for all eternity. The proud part of your mind felt a little bit played - but why? Why did the fact that dreaming about him had made you wetter than the Atlantic Ocean have anything to do with the fact that he had said he hoped for it? It’s a coincidence. And maybe one that you could actively choose not to be afraid of. 

A few days. Pleasure and honesty by choice. You can do that. Right? 

Crawling out from under the silken duvet, you grab the equally luxurious robe you had put on after your shower last night while you sat up reading in the huge bed, and pull it on over your tank top and panties. Nothing more or less than that goes on as you slip across the hall to Oberyn’s door, knocking lightly and wondering if he might be a heavy sleeper.

******

Despite the late hours he tends to keep, Oberyn doesn’t sleep much. Awake and working on his speech for the couple, wanting to make sure that it shows his complete love for Aja and his delight in her finding her partner in life, had him sitting at the writing desk in his family room. The knock on the door pulls him away from his words and he frowns slightly, putting his pen down and standing up to stride to the door. He doubts it’s you, so he wonders what has happened.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He’s in his own robe when he opens the door, though you’re surprised to note that it’s tied closed - you had anticipated immediately finding out whether or not he sleeps naked.

“No.” He’s immediately opening the door a little wider, the invitation to come inside silent but there. “I was making sure my speech was perfect.” He motions towards the windows. “Did the storm bother you?”

“I’m a light sleeper.” You slip inside easily and let the door fall shut behind you. “Is this okay?” The insecurity in there, even if just a second ago you were feeling much bolder. “I don’t want to bother you, I just…had an interesting dream…”

“What did I say last night, Iris?” Oberyn asks, the lights in his apartments were low, the windows still dark outside.

Slowly you nod, fingers toying nervously with the tie of your robe. “That’s why I came.”

“Oh really?” His brow lifts and he watches you, admiring the way that you seem to shy slightly, even though you are putting on a brave face. “What can I do for you, sweet Iris?” His voice lowers, watching your fingers twisting in the ties.

“I just thought…it seemed silly to take care of it myself.” The pulsing heat between your thighs thinking about how he had manhandled you in the dream is nearly agonizing - you actually can’t remember the last time you were this turned on - but it’s still a terrifying thing you’re about to ask. “When you could do it for me?”

His grin is slow, sensual. “It does seem silly.“ He agrees wholeheartedly, gesturing for you to come closer

Years ago you might have sauntered over to him, fully confident in what you’re asking for and brave enough to just leave a trail of your clothes from his sitting room to his bedroom. This morning you’re anything but confident, but determined to pretend. Fake it til you make it, as Lily says.

He watches as you walk over to him, the world seeming to weigh on your shoulders. His fingers hook under your chin when you are in front of him and he lifts it until you are looking him in the eyes instead of staring at the floor. “Tell me what you want.” He orders you. “Do you want me to take control? Or do you want to set the tone?” He’s offering to take the decisions off your shoulders, to ease the burden, but only if you want it. You are too important to his Aja, and surprisingly, to him, to misstep. 

“I—” For the umpteenth time since last night, you remind yourself to breathe, and to be honest with him. That’s the only way this is going to help you in the least and there’s no use pretending otherwise. “I need you to be in charge,” you nod slightly, not able to look away because he still has your chin carefully tilted upward. “Just this…this first time.”

Oberyn smirks, hoping that would be your answer. “Red, yellow, green.” He offers you, giving you the option to change the tone if you need to. “Understand?”

“Yes.” Giving him control is a measure of trust that seems superhuman for you at the moment, but if everything goes to hell you’ll just catch the first flight out of Sunspear International tomorrow morning after the wedding and go back to your kitchen knowing that opening up your heart again simply isn’t a possibility for the future. “I understand.”

“Good.” Oberyn moves quickly, pressing you back until you're nearly bumping into a sideboard, before your back is against the wall. Fingers quickly undoing the knot in your robe sash and pulling it open as he sinks to his knees in front of you. “These are cute.” He murmurs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the top of your mound, over the fabric.

“And completely replaceable.” Your voice waivers with the suggestion, but it’s as much lust as it is nerves — as if he can’t possibly miss the smell of your arousal through the thin cotton. 

He hums, smirking as he grips the fabric and shreds it under the force of his hands and pulls them away from your body to reveal your cunt.

“Fuck…” It comes out on a gasp and nearly a whine. You knew he would be strong enough to make it seem effortless and it has you pressing your thighs together insistently as your body begs for relief.

He isn’t shy, lifting your leg and spreading it wide while one hand spreads the lips of your sex. Chuckling when he sees the arousal glistening in the low light and he wastes no time ducking his head down and latching onto your clit.

One hand whips to the wall to grasp for purchase and the other threads through Oberyn’s short hair as you moan much more loudly than expected. You really wouldn’t have considered yourself touch starved - after all you have plenty of friends and good, playful relationships with your coworkers - but this is a very different sort of touch. One your body has been desperate for for a very long time.

Humming, he twirls his tongue around your clit before letting it go. Opening his mouth wider and flattening his tongue through your folds. He wants you to feel every suck, every lick to the very marrow of your bones.

When your knees buckle his hand is there to hold you up, and you can swear you feel him chuckle straight into your cunt. Even the women who had been between your legs before always treated it as a chore to eat you out - if they ever did it at all - but Oberyn’s attitude toward the thing seems to be completely different. He pushes deeper when your nails scratch along his scalp. Sucks harder every time you let out a breathless moan. And it’s heaven to not feel as though you’ve burdened him with your own desire.

There’s a part of him that wants to draw this out, to see how long he can keep you balanced on a knife’s edge. To hear you beg when you can finally take no more teasing and you plead for him to make you cum. To see if you would demand it in tugging on his hair. He might do it once you are accustomed to cumming by someone else’s hand or tongue or in his case, cock. Now, he just wants to see how you look when you cum for him. Needs to see it.

The tipping point for you comes when Oberyn slips two fingers deeply inside you, curling them against your g-spot until you’re crying his name over and over, the sound bouncing off the walls of his rooms like the echo of original sin.

There is something beautiful about watching a woman fall apart. The breathy cries you give and the way your body sucks his fingers deeper while your walls flutter around them. He keeps sucking and pumping them deeper, helping you ride it out.

“Jesus…” Instead of crumbling forward you manage to fall back, chest heaving with the effort of catching your breath and holding yourself upright on shaky legs at the same time. If you didn’t have Oberyn below you, you might have just collapsed into the ground with a giggle.

Oberyn’s robe is open across his thighs, revealing his achingly hard cock as it curves up and bobs proudly. He ignores it, instead kisses your clit several more times and massages your hip before he leans back and puts your leg down. “Color?” He asks smugly.

“Green.” Your head bobs automatically, even though you’re still catching your breath. Even if this is all that ever happens - which doesn’t seem likely given the pleased expression on Oberyn’s face - the whole agreement would be worth having. Pleasure without pain, that’s all you’ve wanted for years.

He pats your leg, leaning in and kissing a thigh before he rocks up onto his feet and stands in front of you. Pushing the robe off your shoulders to let it fall to the floor in a puddle of silk, he hums and slides your tank top up, urging you to lift your arms and when it is over your face, he bends down and wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples.

The sheen of your own essence on his lips and chin is sticky on your breasts, but you couldn’t care less about that as he rolls one pert nipple around with his tongue. His open robe lets him press his own gorgeous nude form - you just knew he slept naked - and the hot hardness of his cock trapped between you has you getting wet all over again. He suckles like he’s going to feed, nuzzling into your breast and pulling on it harshly. Reaching around you to squeeze your ass before he releases you with a pop. “Bedroom.” He growls.

He has left the door of that particular room open this morning so you have no trouble identifying which direction to move in even though he’s leading you there with sure, steady steps that contrast with your wobbly ones highly. “I’m…um, um safe. The pill, I mean. And I’m clean.” You tell him before he devours your mouth with another kiss. Just because you were in a self-imposed celibacy bubble doesn’t mean you weren’t keeping track of your health.

“I have used condoms with all my lovers since my last clean bill of health.” Oberyn confides. “I would like to feel you without a barrier between us, but that is your choice.”

“Do they make special extra large magnums for you or something?” He knows he’s well-endowed, there’s no reason to be coy about it, but you do shoot him a wry grin. After even one orgasm by someone other than yourself, you’re feeling much more relaxed. “I’m alright with not using them.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head. “No man should ever say they ‘can’t’ wear a condom, they are lying through their teeth.” 

“Obviously.” When the backs of your legs hit his mattress, the impulse to sit is automatic. “And most men who claim to need Magnums absolutely don’t.”

Oberyn smirks and unties his own robe to toss it off. “How about me, Iris?” He hums, stalking you like he would prey. Serpentine and ready to strike as he chases you back on the bed.

“Extra large magnums,” you repeat, surprising yourself when you smirk at him and lay down on his golden silk sheets rather than backing up all the way to the headboard.

“Good answer.” Oberyn chuckles, kissing your hip and scattering them up your chest and throat before hovering over you. “Now, this is the view I imagined all night last night.”

“Thought about it a lot, did you?” That sends a little thrill through your body completely independent of the way he’s lavishing attention on you. It’s a heat that you don’t really have the right words to describe - or if you ever did, you’ve long since forgotten them - but your legs have no problem falling open to allow him to slither up your body at any angle he wishes.

“All night.” He confesses with no shame. “Wanted to pull you over in a secluded corner and make you cum the moment I saw you in that dress.” He kneels, lifting one leg then the other up onto his shoulder and wraps his hand around his cock, sliding himself through your folds.

“Oh my—” There is absolutely no comparison between your trusty dildo and a real fucking cock and the way he slides through your folds so easily is making you dizzy despite the fact that you’re lying down. “Wait until you see the dress I brought for the other part—fuck,” he’s teasing you with a knowing smirk on his face and you’re fully prepared to beg for him now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of. “Fuck, Oberyn, please.” 

He bites his lip, enjoying the feel of your slickness on his cock. Pushing himself to your entrance and feeling you try to open, to accept him inside you. “That’s what I want to hear.” He coos. “Yes, please, more, and ‘oh fuck I’m cumming’.” He pushes the tip in, going maddening slow as he starts to break you open.

You would be embarrassed to whimper if it didn’t feel so goddamn good, but as it is you’re nearly whining. “Want to feel all of you baby, please.”

Oberyn groans, loving how prettily you beg. Still he rolls his hips forward slowly, listening to you whine and feeling you try to grind down on him but with your legs up on his shoulders, all you can do is take what he has to give. Feeding his length into you measuredly until he’s halfway inside your tight cunt.

“Don’t stop.” At this point you’ll be feeling him in your throat if there’s much more to fill you with, but you’re happy to fight a funny walk going down the aisle at your little sister’s wedding in twelve hours if that’s what it means to take him fully. “God, please don’t stop.”

“No in-intention of it.” Oberyn grits out between his teeth. Panting slightly when your inner muscles contract and squeeze him. “Fuck.” He spits out, not even thinking as his hips snap forward and the remaining inches of his cock bury themselves in your body.

You both curse together, breathing gone ragged when his hips are flush against your body. You can’t help how you whimper, so full of him that it overwhelms any other sensation. Pleasure is the only thing in your mind - just him and how he makes you feel. Which at this moment is divine.

“By the old gods, you feel incredible.” He praises, holding himself still while you flutter around him, holding your legs and turning to run kisses up and down your calf and knee while he lets you get used to having him inside you.

“Oberyn…” you can just reach his hip in this position, fingers kneading his flesh insistently. “Move, lover. It’ll be even better.”

He nips your skin, making you gasp as he grins, pulling his hips back and leaning in to push your legs towards your body before he plunges back into you. The pace he sets is torturously slow but always deep, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his length on each stroke. Your old habit of babbling praise while being fucked is back with gusto, something you had lost but is apparently so deeply ingrained in you that all you can repeat over and over on broken, gasped breaths is how good he feels and he big he is inside you, and how you never want him to stop.

He plants his hands on either side of your body, holding himself over you and slowly working himself in and out of your cunt. Wanting you to enjoy this as much as possible. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.”

Your second orgasm builds quickly despite the almost lazy pace. For years it’s been you and your toys, taking care of cravings quickly and efficiently. This morning is the complete opposite of that and you feel both spoiled and indulged in so many different ways.

“That’s it.” Oberyn coos, sliding a hand down your leg to let his thumb start rubbing circles against your clit. “Cum for me, Iris. Want you to shout my name again.”

You won’t have any trouble with that instruction, not with the way he’s stroking your clit and hitting pleasure zones deep in your body that you didn’t even know you had. When your body starts to coil and tense again under him you feel like you’re practically sobbing his name - chanting it as one of your hands grips his arm and the other kneads mindlessly at your tits, pinching and tugging the nipples for every possible feeling of pleasure you’re capable of.

When you start to cum, Oberyn changes his tempo. Instead of the slow and deep thrusts he had been pacing himself with, he goes nearly feral. The harsh, deep slaps of his hips against the back of your ass makes your cunt squelch, trying to suck him back in while he’s pulling out to drive into you again.

If he wants to hear you shout, this is exactly the way to achieve that. Your back arches off the bed with every thrust, punching the breath right out of you each time until there’s nothing left - just a boneless and cock drunk formerly celibate chef still being fucked into the mattress. Dorne really is paradise.

“Fuck, fuck.” Oberyn pants out. “Tight cunt’s gonna make me cum.” He spits the words with every punishing roll of his hips. Feeling like every thrust takes him deeper into your body, the tip of his cock feeling like he could be a battering ram against your womb if not for the angle. “One more.” He insists. “Give me one more.”

“Oberyn!” The unhinged way he fucks you through your orgasm with punishing thrusts rolls you right over into another peak that has you nearly screaming his name as you bear down on him again with sparks bursting behind your eyes.

Grunts and moans pour from his mouth, filthy and nearly angry sounding as he chases his own pleasure. Holding himself back from cunning too soon, he keeps fucking into you as if it’s the last thing he will do on this earth, pushing himself lower and letting your legs slide down his shoulders to widen them, open them up so he can feel more of you.

He is everywhere, filling every sense and blocking out the whole rest of the world as he hits impossibly deeper inside you and pushes you up to newer heights. If you’ve ever felt this good before it was far too long ago to remember. Your fingers are twisted in the bedsheets, holding on like it’s your only connection left to earth while you continue to chant praises and his name.

“Fuck.” Your legs fall to his waist, Oberyn lowering himself to his elbows and covering you with his body as he presses his lips to yours. So fucking close, he feels the tingling at the base of his spin, grunting as he tips over the edge and surges forward, his own orgasm taking over.

The kiss is like a lifeline, keeping you from floating away as he empties himself into you, and it’s possible you’ve never been as grateful for modern birth control as you are now. It’s not until he breaks away that you can feel your walls start to go back up: just a little at a time while his lips trail kisses across your skin, but the inevitability of going back to your room to deal with the emotional fallout of this decision all alone is slightly terrifying.

There is a moment when he just nuzzles into the side of your neck and breathes in the scent of sex and you. Sighing softly and pulling back to watch you. Noticing that there’s not quite the soft, open look in your eyes anymore, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he leans in and kisses your lips softly once more. “Lay right here, Iris.” He orders as he gently pulls out of your body. “I will start the bath. You relax”. His hands can’t help but caress your skin as he goes to leave the bed.

It takes a full minute - much longer than you’re proud of - for you to process anything beyond being told to stay put. Your stubborn mind has conjured images of him returning with your clothing to send you back across the hall, but the sound of running water from the next room has you crawling out of his bed on weak legs to investigate.

His tub is deep and wide, perfect for soaking and relaxing into the large porcelain vessel. Hot water is mixed with special oils and he even tosses in a handful of the dried flower petals and herbs that will make the water fragrant and ease aching muscles that you have not been using. Oberyn looks up as you walk in and gives you a smile. “I was going to come and get you.” He promises, knowing that you are curious.

“Is that…for me?” And why does that nearly have you in tears? The stark labels and elaborate shape of the glass bottles by the tub speak to expense, the dried herbs and flowers blooming in the water hitting your senses a moment before the other scents. It’s all luxurious, and definitely the opposite of handing you your clothes with a shrug and a ‘this was fun’.

“Of course.” He doesn’t roll his eyes or huff, very cognizant of your last lover’s effects on your self-esteem. “I know you will be sore and this will allow you to ease that.” He gives you a small wink. “Still need you to dance at your sister’s wedding.” He sets a thick, fluffy towel on the warming rack and nods towards a closed door. “Facilities are right there if you need them. I’m going to bring you some water.”

Your hand is on his arm before he can move past you, pulling him closer so you can wrap your arms around his shoulders and murmur a quiet, “Thank you,” in his ear. While that’s very literally the least you can do - show him that you appreciate what he’s doing for you - it rolls through you like a burst of the thunder that still sounds outside.

“Thank you.” He murmurs back, pressing his lips to your cheek. You have trusted him with things that you’ve not trusted anyone with for years. “I’ll be back with your water, love.” 

Your head swivels to follow him as he leaves, jaw held tight instead of hanging open. Just a slip of the tongue, you tell yourself when you shake off the sound of his voice saying that word. He calls his partners ‘lover’, it was just a slip of the tongue. An incomplete word. Nothing more. Nothing more. Because anything more would be unthinkable.

It is a quick trip to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge to take back to you. Leaving it on the edge of the tub while you are in the water closet. Humming to himself, he leaves the bathroom to make his way back to the kitchen, deciding that he will make his chef breakfast to start today. Orgasms and food always make his own day right.

The heated tub and sweet-smelling bath would have been enough to have you nearly falling back to sleep if your mind weren’t moving so fast. What you’ve done is an enormous step forward and yet your own fears seem relatively muted. Are they there? Absolutely. But are they screaming at you and tearing apart the experience the way you expected? Not really. It’s more like a dull heartache pressing on your chest while you contemplate whether or not this will change anything for you. Whether Oberyn will simply be a memorable point in your history or if a week in his bed might really be a chance to reawaken yourself. 

******

Music is something that he enjoys while cooking, so the speakers pour out some lighthearted tunes as he rummages around, pulling ingredients out to make breakfast. It will be hours before the party officially starts and he knows there will be plenty of food then, but for now, he’s ravenous after such a wonderfully surprising morning. You were more than he ever expected and he wants to spoil you, already more attached than he anticipated. 

When you wander out of the bathroom a half an hour later wrapped in one of his soft, warm, oversized towels, the smell of hot food draws you to the kitchen with a small smile twisting in your lips. He moves with grace, small dance steps naturally mixing into his movement as he glides around his kitchen in that loosely tied robe that had been discarded on his bedroom floor not too long ago. “What’s all this?” Even though he’s tidy it’s clear that there is plenty going on - plates out and glasses set at the corner of his large table just like yesterday afternoon.

He looks up, an immediate smile on his face. “I would think a chef would be able to sniff out what is going on. Don’t you, Iris?” He winks and motions to the table. “You are welcome to sit down in the very fashionable towel or without it. I don’t mind at all.”

“Smells like shakshuka.” The spicy-sweet mix of cumin, chili, and tomato scents in the air is a giveaway even though the pan is in the oven. The tray on the counter has bowls of hummus, tzatziki, and what looks like a lot of crumbled feta cheese with red onion, herbs and olive oil. On a large tray beside it, a small stack of fried bread slices has just come out of a skillet. “Do all your flings get treated this well, or did I do something special to warrant being spoiled?” You smirk at him, coming up to lean against his side at the counter. “Because if so, I want to make sure I do it every time.” 

Oberyn smirks back at you and drops a kiss on your lips. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own, keep you coming back.” He teases, nodding towards his espresso machine. “It’s ready to make a drink if you want one.”

“God, yes,” you groan, gratefully kissing him back before rounding him to get to the machine. “I’m definitely awake.” How could you not be after your morning exercise? “But without caffeine I’ll be standing next to Lily at the altar with a massive migraine.”

“I understand.” Oberyn grins. “I’m the same way.” He finishes up and starts bringing everything over to the table. “Nothing is closer to heaven than fresh espresso.”

“Have you had one or should I pull another?” The sleek, shiny Italian espresso machine on his counter is just like the one you learned on in Sicily eons ago and the one that sits in the restaurant behind the bar, so you could probably operate it in your sleep.

He shakes his head. “I wanted to share the first coffee of the day with you.” He answers, going back to the counter to bring the other bowls over to the table.

It could be called a romantic gesture, and the heat in your cheeks makes your whole face burn while you go about pulling two espresso shots in the neat little demi cups he has lined up next to the machine. “This is all very sweet of you.” You could tell him he doesn’t have to. That it’s not necessary. And that would be true. But when you sit down next to him at the table with two double shots of espresso, wrapped up in his towel, you lean over to kiss him softly first. “I was thinking…in the bath…about things. About…us. And what this week might end up being.”

“Have you made any decisions?” He asks, pouring you some fresh strawberry mango juice to go with your breakfast before pouring his own glass. He knows what he would say, but he is not you. Experiences and expectations are different and he respects that you might not be as forward as he is in life.

“It didn’t feel right to make decisions with you.” Considering the entire arrangement depends on both of you enjoying yourself, it felt like it would defeat the whole purpose if you were simply to inform him of what was to happen.

He gives you a slow grin, nodding in agreement. “So what do you propose then, Iris?”

“Nothing complicated.” Whatever coffee he keeps on hand is delicious, and the first sip has your eyes shutting briefly in appreciation. “Just…a week of pleasure. Whatever sights of Dorne you decide I should see, and whatever time in bed we want to spend…” when your open eyes drifts up again, his are on you with a fondness that makes you smile. “I think that while I’m here, I want to spend my time with you. However much you have of it to spare.”

“Embrace the present?” Oberyn takes a sip of his own espresso and gives a small sigh of satisfaction. “My calendar is clear for the week.” He reveals. “So my time is yours.”

“Embrace the present. Exactly.” And while that’s something you haven’t done in a very long time, with Oberyn it somehow seems possible.

“Tomorrow should be spent in bed.” He suggests. “The sun will have risen by the time we drag ourselves away from the celebration. Everyone will be recovering.”

“I can’t think of a single objection to that plan.” Especially not after this morning. A whole day in his bed sounds like more Dornish paradise. “Maybe the day after we can go into the city? Lily’s completely in love with Sunspear and I’m sort of dying to see it.” With everything in front of you, you reach to take a few pieces of bread from the trayin between you at the table and decide which garnishes you want with your breakfast.

“I will take you to the old city.” Oberyn hums, pleased with your interest in his country. “All of my favorite places.”

“Aja says you like music?” The quiet melodies playing from his kitchen speakers are a giveaway, and it makes you smile to see the little things that keep him happy. “Is there a club or something you like to go to?”

“Several.” He chuckles. “How many we go to depends on how social you wish to be. You might be sick of people by tomorrow morning.” He teases lightly.

“I think a day in bed counts as good recovery time.” You smirk at him as you both start to serve yourselves in earnest. “I like people and I’m used to staying up late. I’m up for whatever you want to show me.” If this vacation is only meant to be once in a lifetime, you want to make sure it’s packed with things you’ll never forget.

“Oh you shouldn’t have said that.” Oberyn warns with a devilish smirk. “We will be out for hours and you will see spots in Dorne that no tourist ever sees.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.” One more sip and your espresso is gone, leaving you to happily dig into the gorgeous breakfast he put together. “And you have to let me cook for you at least one more time before I go.”

“My kitchen is yours whenever the mood strikes you.” He assures you. “Especially when I take you to our best kept secret. Dornish food stands have the most creative takes on street foods.”

“I’m going to go back to New York and be left desperately trying to find good Dornish take out, aren’t I?” It would be nice to adventure in your chosen city again, and you know you’ll be bargaining with food cart owners for spice blends before the week is out. This might have been a better idea than even you knew.

“Desperately.” He nods. “Although there is a small place on 102nd street that was amazing the last time I was in New York.” He takes a bite of his own food and hums happily.

“If you’re ever up my way again, we’ll have to go.” There’s a hint of warmth in your chest at that prospect, but you banish it to start eating. This is one week - he doesn’t owe you anything and he has plenty of others to keep him company aside from you.

He grins and throws you a wink. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He doesn’t want to promise anything, but he’s excited to get to spend this time with you. You challenge him, entice him like he has not had in a long time.

Breakfast is delicious, eaten while you chat about places to go or things to see during your few days in his country. Everything he’s mentioning makes you wish you had more time, but it will also make the time worth every memory. By the time your plates are clean the sun is up and the storm has passed. The desert sun will warm the palace grounds in no time from the slight overnight chill and everything will be perfect for the wedding. When you finally push back from the table it’s with a full belly and a happy sigh. “I should attend to our brides.” Dornish tradition doesn’t have any of the superstitions about the couple not seeing each other before the ceremony, so the three of you will be getting ready together in their suite.

“I will send champagne up with Hobard soon.” He stands and walks over to you to pull off his robe, leaving him totally nude to hand it to you. “Yours is in the wash already.” He explains, having cleaned up and discovered that he had gotten the material messy when he had eaten you out. “Wear this back to your rooms.” He insists.

“Thank you.” It smells like him, and if that wasn’t enough incentive to keep wearing it for a little while, nothing is. With the silk wrapped around you, you easily drop the towel you’ve worn through breakfast and lean in to kiss him. “I’ll leave the towel in the bathroom on my way out.” Another kiss, because he tastes sweet like the juice he had poured for both of you, and it makes you hum a little. “And I’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be the one standing near the altar with the tuxedo on.” He winks and can’t resist squeezing your ass, feeling cheeky seeing you in his robe.

“Save me a dance.” With one more quick kiss you’re out the door, slipping around the corner to leave your towel by the tub and hustle across the hall door clean for underwear. Today feels like anything is possible, and maybe it is.

******

“No mom, I don’t need help getting ready.” Lily rolls her eyes, knowing the last thing she needs is for her mother to ruin the mood. “Why don’t you come by in a few hours. You don’t want to sit here all day. Enjoy the use of servants and relax a little.” She says into the phone as there is a knock on her and Aja’s room door. If that’s what you called the large three-bedroom suite that was almost bigger than her childhood home.

“Hey guys!” You’re all sunshine and smiles when you slip inside still wearing Oberyn’s robe, but now with clean underwear and a bra underneath it. Your bridesmaid dress and everything that goes with it are hanging beside each of their dresses in their spare armoire. The second you see Lily is on the phone though, you clap one hand over your mouth. ‘Mom?’ You mouth the word and laugh when your sister rolls her eyes heavily in response.

“What? No that was the TV.” Lily reassures her mother. “I haven’t heard from her this morning.” It was a small lie, but one used to desperately preserve hers and your sanity. She loves her mother, she really does, but today is about her and Aja. She doesn’t want there to be any hard feelings when the inevitable ‘well I just think’s started.” 

“She called twenty minutes ago,” Aja whispers when you sit down on the plush chaise lounge beside her.

“If Lily sends up breakfast and a mimosa, Mom will think she’s died and gone to heaven,” you murmur back, knowing the easiest way to get your mother to shut up is with spoiling.

Lily grabs onto the idea like a lifeline. “Mom, let me call down to the kitchens. Have the chef whip up something for you and dad. Breakfast and mimosas while you get ready?” Her plea is soft, but there. “How does that sound? The mother of the bride can’t help get me ready if she doesn’t look stunning already.” 

You hear a happy, indulgent outburst on the other end of the phone, and you know the idea must have worked. Within seconds Lily is off the phone and sighing.

Lily rolls her eyes again and shakes her head. “Thank god for the miracle of vanity.” She huffs before she looks over at you and raises her eyebrow at your happy grin and positively glowing radiance this morning. “You look happy.”

“Of course, I’m happy.” You tilt your head at her, knowing that playing coy will only last so long. “It’s my baby sister’s wedding day.”

“Yeahhhhhhh.” Lily purses her lips at you and then glances over at Aja, watching her fiancée smirk. “That’s a decidedly masculine silk robe.” She observers, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I’ve seen it before.”

Aja hums, grinning slightly at you before she winks at the woman she is going to marry today. “I gave my uncle one just like it for his birthday last year. It’s his favorite. Wears it all the time.”

“Do me a favour and say the phrase ‘masculine silk robe’ to yourself again and keep a straight face.” The grumble in your voice is mere sheepishness, however, and you roll your eyes at her even more heavily than she had at the phone. “I had breakfast with Oberyn, okay? I didn’t know it was going to start an inquisition.”

Lily’s face drops slightly, not wanting to put you on the spot since it seems to make that happy smile dim slightly. “As long as you are okay?” She asks, searching your face with more worry than she wanted to let on. She won’t tease you anymore, but she does want to make sure you are happy with your decision. 

“Lils, hey…” You saw the way her smile flickers and you don’t want a single thing to dim this day for her - especially not if it’s something that’s actually happy. You move from Aja’s side to your sister’s immediately and draw her into a hug. “I was teasing, kid. There’s nothing to be upset about. Please don’t worry.”

“I just don’t want to see you unhappy.” Lily mumbles against your shoulder. “You’ve been unhappy long enough.”

Well, ya know…” With one arm still around her, you squeeze her to your side and kiss her hair. “My sister and her almost wife give really good advice. So, I decided to follow it.”

“Oh yeah?” Lily perks up and pulls away to give you a smirk. “And how was the advice? Did it turn out to be better than you expected? Please tell me that man didn’t disappoint. He’s my last hope for all men.”

That makes you nearly choke on a laugh, and you wrap Oberyn’s robe around your waist a little tighter. “If he’s their last hope, then all men are in very good hands.” You promise her, knowing that you’re probably smiling harder in this moment than you have in years.

“Thank god.” Lily snorts and Aja sniffs indignantly - though it’s just playful. 

“I told you that uncle would never besmirch the Martell name.” She huffs at your sister. “I’ve taken pussy eating tips from him and you’ve never complained.”

“That’s because your uncle should be given an award or teach classes or something.” You smother an honest laugh with your hand, knowing that Aja has never once heard you talk about sex, and even Lily might not remember how crass you used to be back when you were dating. “Sorry, I just…I feel better.”

“An orgasm will do that.” Lily laughs. “Or was it multiple? He looks like a multiple orgasm type of lover.”

You grin at her, biting your lip with the admission: “I lost count.”

“The name Martell continues to hold up to the test.” Aja giggles. “Lil knows that firsthand.”

“It makes the whole eight kids a little less insane.” Having thought about it halfway through your bath, you could now absolutely see how men and women lined up around the block for him. It wasn’t a hard sell whatsoever.

“Right?” Aja huffs. “But he loves every single one of them. Desperately.”

“Well, today is about you two, not me.” You still have one arm around Lily and you reach to squeeze Aja’s hand as well before letting them both go. “Tell me what you need me to do. Anything at all and I’m yours.”

“We are getting married today!” Lily squeals excitedly, stars in her eyes. “The best thing you can do is to make sure that I don’t trip or have a stain on my dress before pictures.”

“I promise to prevent both of those things.” And if it’s the most sacred promise you make as her sister, you will fulfill it proudly. 

A soft knock on the door barely interrupts your giggling, but Aja calls for whoever it is to enter and Hobard comes in wearing a particularly large smile. “Good morning your Highness. Ladies.” He nods to all of you as he walks in and sets the silver tray heavy with iced champagne and three glasses in his hands down on the table in front of where you’re sitting. “From your uncle Oberyn, your Highness. Is there anything I can bring up for you this morning?”

“This is perfect.” Aja smiles at the thoughtfulness of her uncle. “However, if we could have breakfast and mimosas sent to Lily’s parents?” She asks, turning her doe eyes on for the servant who had seen her run around the halls in a diaper.

“Of course.” His position has enabled him to watch this young woman grow from infant to bride, and nothing in the world would stop him from doing his part to make her wedding day perfect. Especially not the silliness of her future mother-in-law. “An American breakfast? Eggs Benedict and fresh fruit?”

Aja nods. “And some crepes, she has a fondness for crepes.” She adds, remembering how your mother raves about them.

“I’ll deliver them myself.” He promises, then turns on his heel and is gone again in a flash.

Lily looks over at you with a grin. “We have the stylist and makeup artist coming soon.” She tells you. “Shall we have some champagne, or do you need a shower to wash away your sins of the morning?” She asks, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

“The last hope for all men may have drawn me a bath while he made breakfast.” To admit that you let yourself be so incredibly vulnerable with him is something that you could only say to these two women - your sister is your best friend and Aja is just the most caring woman in the world. It feels more intimate than just an affair for the length of your vacation, but maybe that’s just who he is. A part of his appeal.

“So he fucked you right, drew a bath, and cooked you breakfast?” Lily sighs happily and chuckles. “He was just what you needed.” 

You reach for the champagne, expertly popping the cork before you start to pour three glasses. “We plan on having a very nice week together.”

“I’m glad.” She is, she’s talked often about you and how you needed to have some fun. “To the best week ever!” She proposes once everyone has a glass.

“Here, here.” You tap your glass gently against theirs and smile. At 24, Lily has good friends, a home, a career she’s thriving in, and the woman she wants to spend her life loving. Who could ask for more than that?

******

The stylist and makeup artists soon arrive, working on all three of you to turn you into even more beautiful versions of yourself. Laughing and chatting with you as they work. The tap at the door interrupts the moment and Lily automatically rolls her eyes. “Mom.” She guesses.

“I’m on it.” You hop up from your seat ready to intervene by whatever means necessary, but find a very pleasant surprise on the other side of the door. “Oberyn.” He looks splendid in a gold linen shirt and tuxedo pants, clearly half-dressed for the wedding when he chose to stop and come knock on Aja and Lily’s door. “Here to see Aja?” Of course he is. Don’t be silly. 

“Yes, but also to see if your beauty now matched this morning.” He slowly peruses your hair and makeup with a sensual smirk. “That hairstyle is going to look good, mussed on my pillows tomorrow morning.”

“My bed is going to feel sad and neglected when I’m never in it,” you flash him a wicked grin, feeling light and free from joking around with your sister and her fiancée all morning.

“We could always play musical beds.” Oberyn offers. “An orgasm in yours, then an orgasm in mine. Soak yours and the retreat to mine.”

“Intriguing.” Stepping back to let him in, you’re all smiles except for a momentary flicker of guilt. “I told them.” You tell him, nodding to the giggling couple by the windows. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Tell the world.” Oberyn shakes his head. “I am not ashamed of spending a beautiful morning with you. Eager to do it again.”

“I had a feeling they’d figure it out by tonight.” After all, you have no intention of pretending otherwise if anyone said something and you’re certainly not going to refuse affection during the reception.

“Undoubtedly.” Oberyn agrees, not even hesitating before he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

“By the gods, it’s true!” Aja can’t help but laugh, setting down her glass to applaud the kiss. “Uncle, you’re a miracle worker.”

Throwing his niece a playful scowl, he huffs and kisses you again, feeling your slight embarrassment. “Hush or I won’t give you your wedding present.” He threatens playfully.

His niece playful mimics locking her lips closed and throwing away the key. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she laughs, beckoning for both of you to come back over. Oberyn slides his hand around your waist and guides you over to the couple. Aja having her hair finished while Lily is still having her makeup perfected.

“You didn’t have to do anything.” Aja is well aware that her uncle took over many of the wedding planning duties from her father to avoid his rather tacky taste and will forever be grateful for it.

“Of course I did.” Oberyn huffs. “I have loved you since you were a babe at your mother’s breast.” He lets go of you and pulls two small boxes out of his pockets. One for Lily and the other he pauses before he hands it to Aja. “I wanted to give you something that had special meaning. These - these were your mother’s favorite earrings.” He tells her softly, emotional as he speaks of the sister he had loved desperately. “I had them made for her when she was a young woman and I kept them in remembrance of my Elia. And today I want her daughter to have them, hopefully loving them as much as she did.” He glances over at Lily with a smile. “For your lovely bride, I had the original jeweler make a matching pair. Except that there is a tiny ‘L’ etched onto the backs.”

“Uncle…” Aja’s gasp is audible as she cracks the small jewelry box open to find the small set of mother of pearl and diamond earrings that she so vividly remembers despite having lost her mother young. She buries herself in his side without hesitation, blinking back a few soft tears as they rise behind her eyes. “I wish she was here. That she could have met Lily…” 

“I wish she was here too, sweetheart.” Oberyn pulls Aja close and kisses her forehead, careful not to muss her up. “She would have loved your Lily. Been so happy for you. I know she would have.”

“Father brought me her purse from their wedding to use today.” He had given it to her at the party last night and been proud of both of them for not ending the conversation in tears. “As my something old.”

“He loved her.” Oberyn might not care for the man, but he had loved his sister. “You do not need to wear them, I just—” He gives an inelegant shrug. “I wanted you to have a piece of her here.”

“Of course I’m going to wear them.” It didn’t matter a cent that she had carefully picked out jewelry for today, she would discard the set in favour of her mother’s things every time. “Having her with me means everything.”

Oberyn smiles, nodding in complete understanding. “She’ll be there Aj.”

"Thank you, uncle. For everything you've done. Truly." There is no one in the world who is closer to her heart that Lily, but her uncle Oberyn does run a close second. "I know mama is watching us both and wants us to be happy." 

“Your mother is absolutely watching over us.” He murmurs, kissing her forehead again. “Remember what I told you when you were little. The most beautiful star in the sky.”

The few stories you know of Elia Martell Targaryen are all sweet tales of a loving young woman and it has become increasingly obvious to you since meeting more of Aja's family that those stories were not being told through the rose-coloured glasses of an adoring daughter - but that Elia truly was the sort of woman that everyone adored and could never say enough good things about. On the other end of the sofa, you reach for your little sister's hand and squeeze it gently. The idea of losing her tears you apart just thinking about it. You can't possibly wrap your head around how much Oberyn must truly miss his sister. 

"She's the second meaning in your song." Your other hand reaches for Aja's and you offer her and Lily a smile. "Someone to Watch Over Me. You don't just have each other, you have Elia, too."

Oberyn blinks back tears and clear his throat, emotions heavy and today is one of joy. “I will leave you to finish getting ready and your father is already ready to walk you down the aisle, Aja.” He lets her know.

"It won't be too much longer now." She beams at him, hugging him again before she lets him go to stand.

“I will be watching for all of you.” He smirks at you and quickly makes his way out of the suite.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999

FDwL: @emofairyprincessofarkansas @littlemisspascal @doommommy @lepard60 @writeforfandoms @sweet-heartbadmouth @scorpio-marionette @storiesofthefandomlovers @fan-of-encouragement @sainteredhood @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @shadowolf993 @apocalypticwafflekitten @coldlonelydays @166869 @genevievedarcygranger @missredherring  @ellenmunn @teenagezombiekryptonite @star017

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #modern!Oberyn #Game of Thrones fanfic #GoT fic #modern au #slight twist on the wedding date trope #i love one (1) bisexual chaos prince

[koolkat9]

Cardverse Week 2022: Day 3

Oh my god I’ve been writing these titles as 2021 instead of 2022. Imma fix that. But Also! I ended up getting enough motivation to write something for Day 3!

@hwscardverseweek

Prompt: Sword Fight​

Rating: T

Pairings: GerEng, ScotFra

Word Count: 709

Trust the Love Expert

Metal clashed against metal as Arthur swung at his older brother. Moving quickly, Alastair twirled himself out of the way, leading Arthur to fall forward, almost face planting into the cement. “I win,” Alastair cackled, holding the sword at Arthur’s neck. The queen only let out a groan, heaving himself up off the ground. 

“Well if this was a magic duel, you and I both know I would’ve won by a landslide,” Arthur spat back, dusting himself off.

“Sure, sure. Whatever helps his majesty sleep at night.”

“Oh really?” Arthur growled, getting right up in his brother’s face, “Would you like to test that?”

“Gladly,” Alastair bit back. 

“Boys,” a stern voice calls from the entrance of the garden. King Francis of Diamonds stood at the entryway, tray of lemonade and cookies in hand. “Last time you had a magic battle, the training grounds had to be closed for two months to clean up the mess you made.”

Alastair was the first to break the intense eye contact he and Arthur shared. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

“Until I say so,” Francis stated, placing the tray on a nearby table. “Anyway! I had the kitchen staff make us some refreshments.”

The two brothers scurried over to the table, having worked up an appetite during their duel. “Shortbread,” Alastair exclaimed, picking up one of the cookies,  “Goodness love you spoil me.”

Francis pulled Alastair closer, placing a kiss on his cheek. “But of course mon cher.” Alastair gave his husband a sweet smile before capturing his lips in a long, sweet kiss. Arthur rolled his eyes at the sappy scene. 

“Oi! Got something to say?” Alastair asked.

Arthur only shrugged before picking up one of the cookies on the tray and digging in.

“Don’t mind him,” Francis said, straightening Alastair's jacket, “He’s just jealous because his fiancee isn’t here.”

“Still can’t believe my bastard of a baby brother is getting married.”

Francis giggled. “Indeed. And Ludwig of all people? He never seemed interested in anyone…Well other than the Jack of Hearts.”

Arthur scowled. “Well believe it. After all, it’s his ring on my finger.” 

Francis grabbed his hand, looking over the gorgeous ruby heart, held by sliver vines wrapping around Arthur’s finger. “Beautiful,” the king muttered. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Arthur sniffed, pulling his hand away. He looked down at his ring, trying to hold back a smile that threatened to show. No matter how much he tried to hide it, the knowledge that he was Ludwig’s and Ludwig was his never failed to bring a smile to his face. The ring was proof of that.  “Though he didn’t need to give me such an elaborate ring to marry him,” Arthur went on, more to himself rather than his brother and friend, “He could have just asked, without anything, and I would have said yes.”

“Aww Arthur,” Francis cooed, “You closeted romantic! I hope you know that I’ll be planning your wedding. You’re both good friends of mine and after all, I am a romance expert.”

“Like hell,” Arthur growled.

Francis ignored Arthur’s protest, taking a seat on the edge of the fountain with a glass of lemonade. “Assuming it’s you and Ludwig,” Francis said before pointing to Alastair, “Write this down. Okay, so you’ll probably want something simple. So how about…” Francis began listing off all kinds of ideas from decorations to flowers to food. Arthur hated to admit it, but he couldn’t deny that the ideas sounded nice. Perfect even. When Francis started going off about venues, Arthur finally interjected:

“I would like to have it in the garden of Hearts. With all the roses.” Francis was on the edge of his seat with a wild smile. “How romantic,” he hummed, “Maybe we should continue this discussion with Ludwig. Get his opinion.”

“Agreed.” With that in motion, Arthur turned his attention back to his brother. “Now how about another round, Allie?”

“Ready to lose again?” Alastair chuckled.

“Just you wait,” Arthur sneered before gulping down the rest of his lemonade and grabbing his sword. Francis just shook his head as the two brothers began to spar once more. As long as they didn't destroy the garden, Francis could at least enjoy the show.

#hwscardverseweek #hwscardverseweek 2022 #hetalia #hws #scotfra #frascot #gereng #engger #geruk #hws england #hws france #hws scotland #cardverse #cardverse au #fluff #wedding discussion #wedding planning #sword fighting #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

[lunaaaalovegreat]

i saw your post about drawing requests...

i have a head cannon that jily finally get together right at the beginning of seventh year in the middle of the night in the owlery, where they happen to run into each other there at like 3am

-james totally wasn't checking the map

Oh he totally wasn’t checking the map ❤️

Thanks for the request :)

#jily textpost #jily #james and lily #james potter #lily evans potter #lily evans #lily potter #james & peter & remus & sirius #jily wedding #jily au #jily headcanon #incorrect jily quotes #jily fanart #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan art #wolfstar #harry potter marauders #remus x sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders au #incorrect marauders quotes

[up-to-some-good]

A Wedding

Sirius was distinctly not freaking out. James was running late, but Lily was around and would be sure to collect him if necessary. Regulus was somewhere around, but he wasn’t in the room, so he didn’t have to worry about that yet. He was perfectly fine – completely fine and normal, not freaking out at all.

“You look great,” a voice came from behind him.

He knew who it was before he made eye contact with Remus in the mirror. He was leaning against the doorway, already dressed in a light grey suit, looking incredibly put together as always.

“You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding,” Sirius sighed, closing his eyes as Remus moved forward and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“It’s a gay wedding between a werewolf and a disgraced aristocrat blood traitor, I think we can disregard tradition a little,” he whispered into Sirius’s ear.

He chuckled and leaned back into the taller man.

“Having cold feet, love?” Remus asked quietly.

“No, just nervous,” he responded. “There’s a lot that can go wrong.”

Remus hummed and kissed his forehead gently.

“Anything specific you’re worried about?”

Sirius sighed again and went over his mental checklist again, cataloguing everything that had and hadn’t gone right so far.

“James and Harry have yet to make an appearance,” he started. “And they have the rings, so they need to get here soon. Regulus is – somewhere, which is a surprise as I didn’t think he’d actually show, but it means I’ll have to check on him, so he doesn’t feel left out. Your mom has been in here about three times double checking all the details, which isn’t something wrong so much as something unhelpful. Also, I’m pretty sure we forgot to buy you new shoes.”

Remus laughed and rested his forehead on his fiancé’s shoulder. Sirius opened his eyes again and watched Remus regain his composure before making eye contact in the mirror.

“We did, in fact, forget to buy me shoes, but I polished my old ones so no one will know the difference,” he said. “As for my mom, I sent Lily to distract her when I heard her come in here the third time, so you don’t have to keep her calm. Regulus, last I heard, was sitting with Marlene and Dorcas, so he isn’t alone. As for James and Harry – they’ll be here.”

Remus looked at him carefully in the mirror before spinning him around so he could look at him properly.

“I know it never helps to tell you not to worry, but you really don’t have to,” he continued gently. “Everything, except James, is under control.”

Sirius leaned up to kiss him lightly, finally feeling like he could breathe. Behind him, he heard the door open and turned to see James, slightly out of breath, but otherwise ready.

“Harry lost the rings,” he said hoarsely. “But I found them, and I’m here. Ready when you are.”

They both laughed as James leaned heavily against the wall. Remus pulled Sirius back for another kiss before leaving, patting James’s back and winking. Before shutting the door.

“See you out there.”

James was already tearing up as he walked down the aisle with Lily. Neither groom had walked to the altar yet, but he couldn’t help it. His best mates were finally getting married.

Sirius was down the aisle first with Fleamont, in a black suit with a light grey tie – almost the same colour as his eyes. Remus came out next with Lyall, wearing the inverse of Sirius. Sirius met Remus at the front and squeezed his hand gently. They were both smiling like it was the first time they’d seen each other that day. James had never seen them so happy.

“Friends and family,” The officiant started. “We are gathered here today for the wedding of Remus John Lupin and Sirius Orion Black. From what I have been told, this has been a long time coming, so I won’t speak for long, but rather let the grooms speak for themselves. Remus, if you’d like to start.”

Remus took a deep breath and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket.

“Sirius,” he started. “When we first got together, I couldn’t understand why someone like you would ever want to be with someone like me. You are so kind and brave, loyal to a fault and the best friend I’ve ever had. But throughout our relationship, you have shown me and told me time and time again why you love me, and for that I will always be grateful. You make me feel worthy and loved, something I have never been able to achieve by myself, and you have never let me think I am anything less than human. I am so glad I have you because, even in my worst moments, you make me feel kind and good. I love you.”

Sirius sniffed and wiped his face as Remus finished.

“I should have asked to go first,” he muttered as he pulled out his own vows.

A chuckle ran through the room before Sirius cleared his throat and started to read.

“I never really thought I would find my person until I met you, Remus. I thought I’d end up alone, or in some awful loveless marriage, never meeting the right person. You prove me wrong every single day. You are able to quell my worst anxieties and smallest fears with one hug and a few simple words. You understand when I’m restless and need a walk, or when I’m just too tired to move and need a quiet night in with me even saying anything. You never question my anxiety, or insane tirades in the middle of the night about insignificant topics. We match in all the important and unimportant ways. You’re right-handed, I’m left-handed. You’re the right height for me to rest my head on your shoulder. You’re perpetually cold, I’m continuously too warm. I’m a night owl, you’re an early bird. We’re a perfect set: the moon and the stars. I think I was always meant to love you. I know I always will.”

James sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes. Looking around the room, there was not a dry eye in sight. The officiant cleared her throat before continuing.

“Can we have the rings?”

Harry ran forward from where he was sitting with his grandparents, handing over the rings, and hugging his favourite uncles before sitting back down with a smug grin.

“Remus,” the officiant continued. “Do you take Sirius to be your husband, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death you do part?”

“I do,” Remus said hoarsely, slipping the ring onto Sirius’s finger.

“Sirius, do you take Remus to be your husband, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death you do part?”

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you married,” the officiant said, smiling. “You may kiss.”

Remus didn’t wait for the end of the sentence before pulling Sirius towards him and kissing him soundly.

James didn’t bother to wipe his eyes as they walked back down the aisle towards the reception. His best friends were finally married. He was allowed to cry.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfiction #wedding #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #we need more fluff #marauders #everybody lives au

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 7

This is a CHONKY BOI. THE BACHELOR 'PARTY' IS HERE PEOPLE.

This is by far my longest chapter and I had most of it written before I even posted the second chapter of this story. Makes me SOOO happy how pumped all of you are to read this, it has taken over my life. Keep messaging! Keep sending me asks! 💖

Would love to do little drabbles, memories - anything to do with these two (except spoilers of course)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: TW: INFIDELITY 👀 Angst, yearning, kissing, **18+ [no minors] SMUT** p in v (sex wrap it up) Oral, F & M receiving, language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

---------------------

Age 28:

“I just love her, I love her so much and there’s nothing I can do.” He was drunk and in a bad way.

“I know Fish, it’s tough from here but maybe when you get back you can talk to her.” He knew Pope was trying to make him feel better, but when he’d spoken to his mom earlier in the week and he’d heard that she was seeing someone- it had broken his heart.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting - she’d never promised anything but he had this hope that she’d wait for him. That she’d be there to greet him with the love he’d always craved from her.

“She’s with someone else, I just want her to want me.” If he kept going down this road he was going to cry. He couldn’t cry here. Not in this bar and not when it was crawling with other soldiers.

“I think you should just talk to her when you get home, Fish - things might change when you see her again. Or do the grown up thing, and move on.” He looked at him, regret and heartbreak on his face.

“There’s no one like her.” He said it more to himself than Pope but he heard it all the same.

There was a pretty girl walking over to him now, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi - I’m Claudia - can I buy you a drink?” She wasn’t Spills, but she was very pretty.

-------------------

**Present Day**

The week leading up to the wedding was a blur. It simultaneously flew and crawled by. Schrodinger's week.

The dinner was coming up and with it a curious feeling was settling itself in your stomach. A strange mixture of desperation and acceptance. The acceptance told you that if Francis wanted to get married then you should keep your mouth shut and let him get on with his life.

The desperate, possessive part of you reminded you that he was your perfect match, that you shouldn’t let Claudia have him when he so obviously belonged to you. How would you accomplish that though? How could that be done without him hating you for ruining his wedding?

When you were sitting in the restaurant surrounded by the wedding party both those thoughts plagued you. They kept you quiet and pensive, present, but secluded within your own mind as they fought for dominance.

Benny sat next to you like always and you got the sense he was gearing up to make a move and you didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Your mind was battling over that too.

Do I go out with him and try to get over Francis? Or do I turn him away, and keep pining over a soon to be married man? Choices.

Claudia was almost trembling with excitement, everything she said, everything she did was grating. It all irritated you and you felt the need to dampen her spirits. A malicious little part of you wanted to bring her down a peg. Maybe it was her attitude at the Bridal store. Maybe it was just plain old mean-spirited jealousy. With the dinner almost up, with the bachelor party still to come you couldn’t help it.

It was like a compulsion. The words crawled up your throat and the possessive, angry part of you had to spit them out.

“Oh my God Francis, remember our pact?” Your face was a mask of innocence - just reminiscing with an old friend.

Frankie’s expression changed then, from the same tentative joy he’d been wearing all night to something forced and fake.

“Barely.” His eyes were boring into you, the intensity seemed to be demanding you to shut up about it. While everyone else was still relaxed and unaware of the land mine you’d stepped on, you saw the look Pope was giving you, he knew.

“What pact?” Claudia asked with a breezy laugh.

“It’s silly really-” Frankie cut you off.

“It’s nothing, just bullshit we talked about when we were kids.” He tried to smooth it over with her but she didn’t like that. She sensed his hesitation and when Pope tried to engage them in conversation she challenged him.

“If it’s nothing, then Spills can tell me.” It was said with a bitter sweetness, she had seen through his avoidance and she wasn’t interested.

“Well, when we were in our early twenties - Francis and I decided to make a marriage pact.” You were smiling as though it was nothing and Claudia laughed along with you but you heard the edge in it. She wasn’t amused, and neither was Frankie.

“See honey? It was dumb. Just something dumb kids do when they don’t know any better.” He pulled her close but you could see the stiffness in the way she held herself. You didn’t expect his words to hurt you like that, and all of a sudden you regretted bringing it up.

What seemed like a good way to rile Frankie up was just a cruel little jab at a relationship that you didn’t belong in. A relationship that would go on despite you; in spite of you. You got quiet after that and you saw that he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The battle in your mind was over, and acceptance had won.

You quietly excused yourself to grab some fresh air, the shame at your ploy to ruin Claudia's night sat in your gut and you felt horrible. This wasn’t how you were raised, despite your feelings about her or Francis it was cruel to do this to her on the night before her wedding.

Fuck, now he’ll leave with her for sure. What have I done?

“Hey - thought I’d find you out here. You okay?” Benny had come out looking for you and you smiled at him.

“I’m okay - just needed a minute away you know?” He sat beside you and you tried to focus on him. On his handsome face, how tall he was. If you’d met him a few years ago you would have been all over him.

“Yeah I get that.” He scooted closer to you, until your legs touched and smiled at you. “Look, I know you’re close to Fish, but I’d really like to take you out.” He blurted out the words and you couldn’t help but let out a surprised oh!

He was smiling and he took your hand in his, he was looking at you intently now, making his move.

He was closing in and for a moment you forgot about your shame, about everything except Benny’s mouth. The kiss was soft, tentative. He was testing the waters with you and it was nice. His hand came up and rested on your face softly. Feather light touches on your cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

Objectively speaking, it was a lovely kiss, but it did nothing for you and he felt it.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your forehead on his and he sighed, the air moving the hair framing your face slightly.

“Don’t be, it was worth a shot.” he smiled sadly and you kissed him on the cheek. You both had your answer. The door slammed, breaking you out of your moment with Benny and you saw the back of Francis’ head as he stalked back inside.

----

He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to punch Benny, he wanted to knock his teeth out. He wanted to walk out there, grab Spills by the back of the head and kiss her until she finally understood what she meant to him.

When they walked in together his guts twisted up with rage, it clawed its way up his throat and instead of lashing out he ordered three shots of liquor to burn it away. He drank them quickly, one after the other.

“You and me, outside. Now.” Pope was dragging him away and he wanted to fight but Claudia was asking him what was wrong and he didn’t have an answer for her. Not one she’d want to hear so he let Pope drag him outside. He could see Spills staring at him and he couldn’t look at her.

“What the fuck are you doing right now?” Pope spoke calmly, but his voice had an edge.

“Drinking. It’s my bachelor party, I’m supposed to get drunk aren’t I?” He was pacing, the rage making him restless.

“Why are you marrying Claudia?” Pope stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” The question stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you think that no one can see it? It’s painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near as in love with her as you should be. You’re hung up on Spills and she’s obviously hung up on you.” He was trying to speak calmly and Frankie was pissed off all over again.

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel about her - she’s out here with Benny and I’m getting married tomorrow.” He was spiraling.

How the fuck did I get here?

“She’s out here with Benny, because you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow. If you want to continue with Claudia I’m not going to get in your way, but get your fucking shit together and control your emotions. Figure out what the fuck you want and remember that Benny isn’t your enemy.” He approached him and clapped his arms onto Frankies shoulders. “Fish, you have to figure out what you want here, make it work with Claudia or let her go - stop this living in between shit. It’s not fair to anyone.” Frankie shook out of his grip, too upset to see reason.

He knew he was wrong, he knew he had no right to react this way but it was too much for him. All the little moments he’d thought they’d shared - what had they meant?

What does it matter? You’re getting married, she isn’t.

He ignored her gaze when he approached their table, Claudia was approaching him.

“You okay babe?” She was approaching him with open arms and he embraced her. Eyes closed - trying to feel something other than anger. He focused on the smell of her hair, on the feeling of being buried into the crook of her neck. She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and smoothing it out. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters babe, tomorrow everything will be perfect and we’ll be married.” She was whispering into his ear and it was meant to be reassuring.

He felt nothing.

You’re not her. No matter what you do, you’ll never be her and I have to be okay with that.

“I’m okay babe - see you tomorrow.” He kissed her, really kissed her. Tried to muster up whatever he thought he felt for her before and she responded but it was useless. All he felt was anger; she pulled away smiling and said her goodbyes. He glanced at Spills and the look on her face made him feel ashamed.

“Let’s get fucked up.” He said it with a fake smile plastered on his face and everyone except Pope and Spills cheered.

---

His hostility was astounding. He barely looked at you the whole night and you had a feeling it had to do with Benny’s kiss. You had to talk to him about it, a part of you hoped he’d be jealous and realize that you belonged together but maybe that was all in your head. Maybe he didn’t like his friends dating you, or you dating them but that didn’t make sense. Why would that bother him?

You’re the one getting married to someone else here, you dick.

Will and Benny were keeping up with him but as the night wore on everyone came to the realization that tomorrow would be a very long day if they didn’t quit now but Frankie wanted to keep the party going. He wasn’t belligerent, but he was being more aggressive than you’d ever seen. He told the boys that he wanted to continue drinking when they all got back to his house and they agreed but when you all got there it was obvious that Benny and Will were down for the count.

“I’m going to get these two into bed, can you make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t get too fucked up?” Pope was herding the brothers into the basement where they’d been staying. He gave you a curious look then, a narrowing of the eyes that screamed talk to him.

---

When you walked into his old bedroom he was sitting on his bed, bottle of alcohol to his lips and you’d had enough.

“Francis that’s enough, you’ve had too much and you’re going to be sick.” You were trying to take the bottle away from him but he was stronger than you and he was in a foul mood.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pull that shit and then baby me.” His tone was vicious and you pulled back.

“I’m not trying to baby you, you asshole- I'm trying to make sure you’re not hungover for your wedding tomorrow.” He scoffed loudly at your words. “You got something to say Francisco?” You were angry now, his attitude was pissing you off big time. Your question set him off and he unloaded onto you.

“Oh I got plenty to say.” He put the bottle down and towered over you. “You fucked up Spills, you knew how I felt about you this whole fucking time and YOU were the one who shut it down. Making this stupid pact so you would be guaranteed someone who was crazy about you while you went off and did whatever and whoever you wanted and then bring it up in front of everyone like it was a joke.” The anger was burning away the alcohol in his system and there was nothing but raw honesty left. “And now what, you’re going to date my friend? So is it anyone who shows you attention except me?”

The expression on his face was angry, but there was a raw hurt in his voice. An old wound that he was blaming you for opening up.

“I have loved you since I was fucking fourteen, and you never gave a shit. You used me and you kept me dangling on a string but guess what, I am not a last resort. I have found a woman who loves me and you’re going to have to live with that.” The words were knives to your heart because for the most part they were true.

You couldn’t stop the tears at his onslaught of painful truths but underneath the hurt his words caused, you were fucking angry.

“You want to tear into me because I’ve been a fucking idiot fine, have at it, but you do not get to shame me for having a moment with someone who likes me. You’re getting married! Am I supposed to stay celibate and alone for the rest of my life because you gave up on me? I was waiting at the airport to tell you that I love you. That I know I’ve wasted time and that I want you.”

“Gave up on you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? So when I call to see how everyone is doing and I find out that you’re seeing someone - I'm supposed to just know that you’ll figure it out? I have been putting off finding someone in hopes that you’ll finally see how devoted I’ve always been to you. I am so fucking pissed off at you and you want to know what the worst part of it is? The fact that I still fucking love you. Even though I’m hurt and so goddamn angry. Even though I have her and I know she’s head over heels for me, you’re the one in my head. I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my fucking heart Spills. It should be you I’m marrying tomorrow. It should have always been you.” You could see the tears in his eyes now and that hurt even more.

Every single fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to wrap your arms around him. Instead you responded with your own truth.

“I wish it was me tomorrow. I know I couldn’t expect you to wait for me forever but I don’t want anyone else. Benny is sweet but he’s not you Francis.” You were well and truly crying now. Everything you’d been holding in came bubbling up, spilling out of you and there was nothing you could do to stop it, it had to come out.

“I should have kissed you back like I wanted to. I shouldn’t have been afraid, I should have seen it and dealt with my own feelings for you. I’m sorry Francis. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize how perfect we are for each other. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m terrified that you’ll leave me behind and marry her, and that I’ll be here waiting for you forever.” Your voice was cracking and high, barely a whisper at certain points with how hard you were crying.

His legs brought themselves to you in three long strides and then his mouth was on yours. Your tears mixing where your faces touched; pure adrenaline coursing through your veins when his hands buried themselves into your hair. It was nothing compared to the inexperienced albeit enthusiastic kiss you’d shared as teenagers. This was all-consuming. His mouth trapping your bottom lip roughly and biting softly to draw out a whimper. His tongue using the sound as the invitation to plunder the inside of your mouth.

He tasted like honey and alcohol, like the gum he chewed and tiramisu. He tasted like all the things you loved in this world and you never wanted him to stop kissing you.

He trailed his kisses down to the line of your jaw, the long column of your neck and up to the place beneath your ear and all you could do was frantically clutch at his hair.

“We’ve been so stupid Spills, driving me crazy.” He was whispering the words into your neck, his hands a vice grip around your waist.

“I’m sorry Francis, I love you - I love you so much.” The both of you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, fervent breathes as you kissed; both trying to make up for lost time. His wedding in a few hours was forgotten, his fiancé didn’t exist. It was just the two of you in his old bedroom where his first kiss had been denied.

You were rewriting that now.

His hands lowered and grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly and you moaned into his mouth. He brought his kisses to your neck as he decisively pulled your dress up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for half my life Spills, it was you I thought about while I was away. I would fuck my fist every single fucking night thinking about you letting me taste your pussy.” His eyes were dark with want and you gasped at his words, the alcohol and the honesty making him braver; the words were shooting directly into your cunt, making you weep for him.

“It’s always been you, look at what you do to me, what you’ve always fucking done to me.” He grabbed at your hand roughly and pressed into the sizeable bulge at his crotch. It was hard to form words. It was hard to articulate how you felt now that this was finally happening.

“Will you let me baby? Will you let me bury my tongue in your cunt? I want you to cum all over my face.” He was rubbing at your clit through your panties and it was like you were suspended in amber. Dumbstruck at his words, his confidence - his need for you.

“Yes Francisco, please.” You were gripping his hair frantically as he pushed you onto his bed. His big strong hands pulling your underwear down and tossing it over his shoulder. The same hands pulling your thighs apart to find your slick seeping out of you, all glossy and wet. He moaned at the sight.

“Look at that- so fucking pretty for me.” He made himself comfortable between your legs, grinding into the mattress as he studied your body. He kissed your thighs as he brought his face closer and closer to your clenching core. His facial hair tickling you as he trailed them up up up. You watched him propped up on your elbows, your hands automatically reaching out to run through his hair.

“Bet you taste so fucking good, like peaches.” He ran his finger along your seam, smearing your slick all over your lower lips. He was going too slow. You tried to move your cunt closer to his face but he smiled almost cruelly and held your hips down.

“My greedy girl.” He spread your lips apart and spit into your clit, you felt it sliding down towards your opening but he dove in cat-quick to lap it up before it went further.

His tongue was heaven. You threw your head back as he licked from your opening up towards your clit, over and over. “Eyes on me, I want you to watch me.” It was too much and you whimpered as he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into your clit. Focusing his tongue there, moving it up and down over and over and over. The wet glide of it too much and the string holding your sanity together was too tight, it would surely snap and let you float away soon.

He groaned onto your skin, his eyes steady on you as he slid two thick fingers inside you. Curling them in a way that had you tensing up. He could feel your thighs clenching as he scissored them inside you, stretching you open while his tongue pushed you over the edge. It was too much and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it a long steady suck, you shattered.

He held you down and licked you through it. Lapping up the waves of arousal, drinking you down deep while his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a wet squelch.

You had to push him away.

“You taste so good honey, I wanna eat you for days, until you’re a wet little puddle in my bed.” He crawled up towards your limp body and kissed you roughly, his facial hair irritating your skin but it didn’t matter. Not when you could taste yourself in his mouth, not when he’d made you cum harder than anyone had any right to.

His hands were a blur as he tried to get his jeans down and you helped him. You could see your slick on his fingers, then his jeans and your hip where he held onto you. A little trail of you wherever he touched.

You frantically pulled both his jeans and his boxers down, his cock freed and bobbing between your thighs. You could see the sticky tip of him, angry and red with how hard he was and your mouth watered. You had to taste.

He was surprised when you flipped him over, the startled look on his face quickly replaced with a hungry smile. You took off his jeans and his boxes fully to lay between his legs. You rested your head on the strong muscle of his thigh as you lazily stroked him, the velvety skin of his cock encasing the iron beneath. He watched you with a look of rapture and his breath hitched when you pulled away to scoop some of your own slick from between your legs to make your strokes more fluid.

“You can’t possibly know how many times I’ve imagined this - fuck - give me your mouth baby, please.” He was thrusting up into your hand. You licked a wide stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip, circling it with your tongue. He groaned at the sight of you and he grabbed at the hair at the base of your skull to guide your movements.

You took the tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks prettily while he watched you, taking a bit more each time you lowered your head. You were ravenous for him, the soft sounds he was making, the control you had at this moment was intoxicating and it pushed you to take him further.

You took him as far as you could, swallowing around him as your nose brushed up against his curls and the tears leaked out when you let go to take a breath.

“Holy fuck baby, yes - look so fucking hot with my dick in your throat. Let me see you do it again.” He guided you down and you held there as long as you could before you sputtered and coughed, spit and his precum connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck baby - so fucking good, if you do it again I’ll cum…” he left it up to you, taking his hand away from your hair and as tempted as you were to watch him come apart in your mouth your cunt was achingly empty and you needed him inside you.

“Next time you can cum in my mouth or on my face, wherever you want, right now I need you to fuck me.” You crawled up and he kissed you, he was frantic and he licked the spit off your lips and it was so primal you moaned. You found yourself on your back again and he was holding your thighs open while he rubbed his length through your folds.

“I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you full of me, fuck it into you. I wanna see it dripping out of you when I’m done.” He was lining himself up and when he slid in all the way, everything was right in the world. This was how it was supposed to be, the thick stretch of him was perfect, you were so fucking full - your cunt, your heart - every part of you.

“God baby, you’re so tight and wet - feels so fucking good.” He was speaking into your mouth and all you could do was wrap your arms and legs around him. Incoherent whimpers and sounds spilling out of your mouth with his movements. Sweat was beading on his brow, his fingers traced your hairline almost tenderly. His movements are equal parts filthy and loving.

His thrusts were hard and fast, not being able to control himself. You heard the wet, obscene sound of them and it made you wetter. You raised your legs higher, bracketing his ribs while he snapped his hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, love you - let me love you.” His words were curt and he wasn’t going to last long so you yanked the straps of your dress down. He leaned onto one arm, reaching down to rub perfect circles onto your clit while he took your nipple into his mouth. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere and he groaned when he felt you clenching.

He brought his hand back up to grab at your hip roughly for more leverage while he fucked into you two, three - four more times before he was spilling into you.

He made good on his promise. He fucked his cum into you. A couple more shallow thrusts even though he was too sensitive and he watched himself do it.

“Look so fucking pretty like that, all puffy and full of my cum.” He watched as it slid out of you and down your ass onto the bedding.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on? Francisco Morales; sex god.

You were too blissed out to move but he went to work, taking off the rest of his clothes and then stripping you of yours. It was difficult to articulate how you felt in that moment, on the one hand this was everything you had wanted. The sex had been amazing, he didn’t just fill your body - he filled every single ounce of you. Your heart swelled when he tucked you into his side and covered the two of you with his blanket.

On the other hand, the postcoital bliss was wearing off and the implications of what had transpired was a weight growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your body and heart wanted to soar; a kite flying higher and higher. Your conscience was the string, and it was being shortened fast. He loved you, he still loved you even though he was engaged and he’d been thinking of you the whole time. You wanted to cry with happiness; with guilt as well.

The guilt was present, reminding you consistently that this man was supposed to be getting a good night���s rest for his wedding tomorrow. Instead the two of you were laying in bed, curled around each other. His spend slowly seeping out of you.

It was hard to focus on it though, especially when his skin was so warm under your cheek. When his hand rubbed at your arm and your legs were a tangle underneath the blanket. You couldn’t help but reach up and run your fingers through the hair matted on his forehead and he made it even harder when he captured the same hand and pressed kisses to your fingers. He broke the silence before you could though.

“I’m still pissed off at you.” He had a dreamy look on his face despite his words.

“I know. I’m pissed off at me too.” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The scent of his body-wash mixing with his own sweat. You couldn’t get enough and he curled himself into you as you ran your fingers through his hair. Your hands are constantly moving, touching every bit of each other you could.

“We’ve wasted so much fucking time Spills.” There was a deep sadness in his voice, it sliced into you because you knew he was right.

“I know Francis, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You were scratching at the wiry hairs on his cheek, trying to map out the face you loved so much. He sighed loudly. “What's going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know - part of me thinks I should pack up the truck, throw you in the back and drive away. Another part of me wants to forget this whole thing happened and follow through on the commitment I made.” He wasn’t holding back with his words or feelings and although they hurt you couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You kept quiet, at the end of the day the decision was his. “I have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her that we did this, I cannot show up there tomorrow and pretend like I didn’t.”

You could see the guilt on his face now, the implications dawning on him a little later than they had for you. He scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned.

“How can I just break her heart like this?” He was spiralling. “She doesn’t deserve this.” You felt like an intruder then, suddenly the closeness wasn’t there, he was pulling away from you emotionally if not yet physically.

“What do you want to do Francisco?” The use of his full name snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked at you then.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you in confusion, as you pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I know it took me way too long to get to this point, and you have every fucking right to hate me. If you tell me now that you want to make it work with her I’ll support your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut and we can pretend this never happened. I would do that for you because I love you, and I will no matter what. You tell me what you want to do.” The tears were coming down your face as you said the words and as much as it hurt to get them out you meant them.

You couldn’t stay here - you wanted him to make his choice without influence and he said nothing as you quickly dressed and walked out of his room, instead you lay on the couch in the living room, crying softly to yourself. Sleep was nowhere in sight and in a few hours, you’d know for sure what would happen.

----

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#frankie catfish morales #frankie x f!reader #frankie x you #pedro pascal fic #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie x female reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #francisco catfish morales #my bestfriends wedding au #pedro pascal fanfiction

[lillywillow]

Wedding Bells

Summary: It’s finally the day of Steve and Peggy’s wedding. You and Bucky do your duties as their best friends to see them off on their honeymoon.

 Word Count: 1246

 Square Filled: Best Man/ Maid of Honour

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

 Warnings: None really

 Author’s Note: Kind of a normal AU, in this one I’m making Peggy’s niece Sharon a young child

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 You had been friends with Peggy for as long as you can remember. When she first started dating Steve, you were absolutely thrilled. The pair of them balanced each other out perfectly. In that time, you got to know Steve’s best friend Bucky too. Steve and Peggy tried many times to get the pair of you together but so far all attempts had been futile. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested; it was just either one of you was too busy (or at least, you claimed to be). When Steve finally proposed to Peggy, you got a lot closer to Bucky in all the planning for the wedding.

...

The day finally arrived for Peggy and Steve’s nuptials. Everything was perfectly set up. First came Peggy’s little niece Sharon as the flower girl along with the ring bearer. Next came Peggy’s sister and bridesmaid with groomsman Sam. You stood waiting your turn to walk down the aisle with Bucky as best man and maid of honour just as you rehearsed. He was so handsome dressed in his suit, you couldn’t help but glance over at him as you took your places near the end of the alter. Steve stood there grinning, his eyes glistening with tears as Peggy was walked down the aisle by her father, looking like an angel, in his opinion. Everything was going smoothly so far until the “I do’s”.

 “Steven Grant Rogers, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asked.

 “I do.”

 “Margaret Elizabeth Carter, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

 “I-”

 Before Peggy could answer, the church doors were suddenly burst open.

 “PEGGY!”

 Peggy’s ex-boyfriend ran through the doors. You never liked the creep and when they broke up, he became a little clingy. Even while dating, he was possessive and unhealthily obsessed with her.

 “You! What are you doing here?!”

 “I came to tell you that I’m still in love with you! You can’t marry Steve, you just can’t!”

 “You had your chance. It’s over between us,” Peggy stated firmly.

 “Please, run away with me!”

 Bucky moved to escort the guy out but you had already beaten him to it. You grabbed him by one arm and the back the collar and dragged him out. He whined and protested the whole time as you pushed him out the door, making him land on his rear.

 “But-”

 “Listen you! I never liked you but since Peggy was dating you, I tolerated you. You blew your chance with her and if you hurt her, if you ever come near her again, I will hunt you down and I will end you, got it?!”

 This was the second time he had been on the receiving end of your protective friend side. With a feeble nod, he scrambled to his feet and ran off. You dusted off your hands and returned to your spot inside and the ceremony was able to conclude.

...

 After the wedding, everyone went to the reception which fortunately went without incident compared to the ceremony. The bridal party sat at the table at the front, you and Peggy’s sister at her right, Sam and Bucky to Steve’s left.

 “Thank you for dealing with him, Y/N,” Peggy sighed.

 “Peg, I’m your maid of honour. It’s my job to put out fires as they appear so you and Steve can enjoy your day,” you smiled.

 “Please don’t mention fire,” Steve groaned, making Sam and Bucky snicker. You and Peggy looked at them with confusion.

 “While waiting, Steve was so nervous that he bumped into a candle holder and nearly knocked it to the ground. Nearly set the place on fire,” Bucky laughed.

 “Bucky!” Steve whined.

 “What? I handled it, didn’t I? No dramas...”

 “Except for that one at the ceremony,” Sam supplied.

 “I took into account for almost every scenario... how was I supposed to know that crackpot would show up?” you huffed. Peggy rubbed your back and grinned.

 “You did an amazing job. Both you and Bucky,” she smiled, looking over at him. Bucky’s gaze had been on you and having been caught out, he blushed and looked away.

 A short while later, it was time for the couple’s first dance as husband and wife. Out there on the floor, holding onto each other, it was obvious how deeply in love with each other they were. Soon, other couples were joining them.

 “May I have this dance?” Bucky asked, offering his hand.

 “You may,” you smiled, taking his hand and going to the floor.

 Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck, both of you slowly swaying to the music.

 “So... when do you want to start telling people about us?” Bucky quietly asked.

 You and Bucky had began dating a few weeks ago but with all the stress of the wedding, you decided to keep things on the down-low.

 “Let’s wait until they go on their honeymoon. We don’t want to steal their thunder,” you replied, looking over at the couple.

 “You know they’ll be thrilled for us... they’ve been trying to get this to happen for years now...”

 “I know... but it’s their day. I want them to enjoy it.”

 “What if we tell them just before they leave?”

 “Yeah... that could work,” you smiled.

...

 At the end of the night, the final events were the bouquet toss and the garter toss. You were ushered into a group with all the single ladies, almost all of whom wanted that bouquet. When Peggy let the item fly behind her, it was pretty much a blood-sport. Women were tackling each other, elbows were thrown... it wasn’t a pretty sight which was made all the more funny when you caught the flowers by accident. There were a few cheers and a few curses but it still counted.

 Next were the single men who weren’t nearly as gung-ho about it. Sure they made an effort but much like you, Bucky caught it by sheer dumb luck. He only put his arm up and the garter landed on it like a ring toss. There was a bit of teasing about it, people saying how you two were next to be married, but neither of you minded.

 After that, the bride and groom said their goodbyes and headed off to start their new life together. As the limo drove away, Bucky came up beside you and put his arm around your waist.

 “Well, mission accomplished. We got them down the aisle and on their honeymoon.”

 “We sure did... oh, shoot. We didn’t get a chance to tell them about us...”

 “Doesn’t matter. We can tell them when they get back. Now that they’re gone, I can do what I’ve been jonesing to do all night,” he smirked, pulling you closer and kissing you deeply. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

 Maybe one day, Steve and Peggy could return the favour of being best man and matron of honour for the pair of your at your own wedding.

#ssb2021 #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Peggy #Steggy #Wedding Bells #Wedding day #Best Man/ Maid of Honour #Bride and Groom #Bouquet Toss #Wedding crasher #Kiss #Secretly dating #Modern AU #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot