#and with the main leads it has always been a love story

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On the discussions of leadership and leona finding fulfillment in the future, i’ve always found the times he’s stood out most in twst to be when he is mentoring someone. Subtly, never giving people answers but guiding them towards them, using language and examples they understand. We see it with ruggie, jack, jamil, all of savannaclaw and so many other characters.

which gets me thinking: what if leona becomes a teacher? he’d get the acknowledgment for his skills and ability he needs, but also be able to help improve sunset savanna by educating and equalizing the playing field for the next generation.

Ruggie’s dream got me thinking about it and now i can’t get it out of my head as a possible route to where he can get the things he ultimately needs to thrive.

Relevant posts: [ Does Leona need to be king to be happy? / Would Leona be a better king that Falena? / Catching up with him in book 7 ] [My thoughts on the book 7 part 11 Leona update is here!]

I agree that Leona tends to shine when he’s in a leadership or mentorship role to younger students! This occurs multiple times over, both in main stories (notably book 2, 3, 6, and 7), vignettes (his Camping Gear, Epel’s Union Jacket, etc.), and various voice lines (typically from younger students remarking on their admiration for him). He's actually really good at explaining things to others in a simplistic enough way and with realistic examples that slot neatly into their worldviews. I don't know that I would call it "subtle" though, there have definitely been times where Leona just outright tells others what to do or what's wrong with their way of thinking (mainly with Jamil in book 6, or ordering around his fellow magift/spelldrive team members). I think when you say "subtle", it's more like Leona has a way of leading others to acting in his favor, as he can occasionally have his own ulterior motives in imparting wisdom. (For example, he helps out the first years with mining for magestones so he can nap without being disturbed.)

Mmmm… I do think the idea of Leona as a teacher is interesting, but I don’t know if that would feasibly work. I think we as the players can appreciate, say, the NRC staff, but in reality teaching is often a thankless job where parents and/or the school board will blame you for students not performing. You also need to put in several (unpaid) hours of work outside of class grading, preparing lessons, going to meetings, etc. I don’t know that he would be satisfied with “grunt work” like that. I think he’d also have to go back to get his masters/teaching license, which means more studies 💀

I also think the scale of teaching is too small for Leona’s ideals. Yes, technically your lessons will have a continuous or long-term impact because your students might then graduate and go on to change the world thanks to your teachings. But, in my opinion, it better suits his grand ambitions to be the one establishing schools and then leaving others to run those institutions for him; he’d have a much larger impact (and more immediate results, which is what Leona is after) that way, similar to how it is portrayed in Ruggie’s dream. A single teacher, by comparison, can do little to change the system for the countless people who need it (for example, the starving children in the slums). Additionally, it’s easier for Leona to control his own projects as some higher authority, whereas it’s not do easy for him to control what students do once they leave his tutelage—and for Leona, bring in command is important (he had no vice dorm leader because of this).

I also have to wonder if teaching is really the right field for Leona to get into…? I think people often confuse “being good at something” with “liking something”. This is also true of many fandom depictions of Leona; fans tend to claim he’s just “being tsundere” when he acts grumpy around his juniors other nephew Cheka and that he secretly harbors great love for kids. And while I do love me a wholesome take, I just don’t see that 💦 His official profile states his pet peeve is “dealing with kids”; why would objective information from an official profile be a lie? His annoyance seems pretty consistent and genuine when he is assigned some kind of babysitting-adjacent task, and he acts like he would rather not if given the choice but has to anyway in order to avoid graver consequences for himself, a dorm leader. I don’t think he would want to intentionally sign up for a job that means he has to put up with kids on a daily basis—and especially rebellious teenagers that won’t necessarily do what he tells them to.

I guess the comparison you could make here is Crewel, who also seemed to be wild in his youth and also seems to dislike children and disobedience—yet somehow he changed careers from fashion designer to science professor. He had a lot in common with Leona, so I think it could be argued that Leona could still potentially go down the teacher path. If I recall correctly, Leona has also tutored Ruggie and helped him achieve okay grades in present day—so Leona has a track record with teaching. We don’t know for sure what could happen; a lot can change and the future’s unpredictable! But for now, I definitely still think Leona’s ambitions wouldn’t stop at just teaching classes; he’d want to do way more.

… Imagine the insanity of having a literal big-boobed PRINCE as your professor though 💀 I don’t know if I would be able to concentrate properly in that lecture…

[miss0atae]

Random Thoughts about The Heart Killers (EP 1 – 6) : An interesting Rom-Com with morally grey characters.

The long awaited post I've wanted to make, but always failed to do properly. Since we are not getting an episode today (which is a damn crime because the wait is killing me!), I've decided to feed my poor soul with some writing about the series. I won't add anything that haven't already been said on here, so I won't feel sad if you don't pay attention to this post. It's just me screaming in the void of internet to try thinking about something else. I knew I would like this series (I like the actors, the directors, the plot… everything has been set according to my own taste), but I try to reason with me. You shouldn't put too many expectations on a series, otherwise you're at a risk of being disappointed. I also give better advice that I never really follow, so yes I had expectations and until now they have been fulfilled. I would be lying if I didn't say that at one point or another I was really annoyed by the characters' actions. I tend to forget that the series is 12 episodes and I'm looking forward to seeing the sweet scenes between the main couples (real ones with no lying). I was promised a rom-com, so don't be mad at me for being a little fool here. I'm a bit impatient as you can see. However, I know that I shouldn't react in the heat of the moment so I waited until now to write something about The Heart Killers.

Usually, in a rom-com you get characters that are archetypes usually found in this type of story. In the Heart Killers, most of the characters are neither good neither totally evil (except maybe Mother, but she may also have a good side, who knows). All characters have their strengths and weaknesses and they may appear on different sides, but they all have a strong, justifiable reason for doing what they are doing. I've making this grid for a while now. I may have forgotten some information, but it's just my own perception of the series so far. Things may change in the coming episodes.

So why was I annoyed by the characters at one point or another? I guess one part of the reason is that I forgot the structure of a rom-com because of the unique setting the screenwriters and the director put our main characters in. Any rom-com follows a certain structure in three times I would say.

• The first part is the presentation of the setting, the characters and their unfulfilled needs.

• The second part is when you have the meet-cute (or not so cute) between the characters. It is followed by the honeymoon stage until obstacles arise at the midpoint and the relationship is in jeopardy (that's where we are right now in the story). Usually, it's when the couple break up or start to have doubts.

• The third and final part is the moment of realization where the characters can view themselves outside the relationship and decide what are their new desire and goals. It leads everyone to the final of the story that usually ends on a happy note or at least give the viewers some hope for the characters if they don't end up together (my personal choice would be a happy ending for everyone, but I like to be surprised).

We've seen the first part already and have moved on the second part. I believe in the Heart Killers the break-up part could be different. Will the characters really break-up now that they think they have understood the needs of the others?! I don't think so. I believe they are all going to pretend to be together to try to outmatch the other ones and to learn the truth. They believe they are in opposite sides, but the truth is their main enemy who is working against their desire/happy ending remains Mother and to a lesser extent Keen (until Mother works against him and he may become an ally to the main leads). We could probably add the Captain too.

So, even knowing that, the question remains: why was I annoyed by the characters, despite loving everything else?! It's because I viewed them through my own sets of value while forgetting who they are and the setting of the series. To be fair, I'm used to rom-com characters who usually are not morally wrong. Here, in this story, none of them is really right or wrong. After all, they are on different standpoints and the perspectives they can reach are not the same. They represent different sides with different views (sorry I'm rambling here). I would say, Style may be the only characters who didn't have a criminal past and his worst fault is that he didn't flirt (at first) with Fadel for love, but for greed to possess Kant's car. The other characters, Kant, Bison and Fadel, all are or were a criminal at one point. Does it mean that criminals can't fall in love because what they are doing is morally wrong? The story doesn't agree with this point, as all of them were dragged to this because of something external. Kant needed money to take care of his brothers and Fadel and Bison were forced into this line of work by their “guardian” Mother who pretends to make them go after other “criminals” because the justice system isn't doing the right wrong. In some way, she isn't wrong, as the only “justice” figure we meet in the story is Captain Christ. He isn't a nice guy too as he is threatening Kant to force him to do his work in exchange for freedom from his past.

The idea of writing morally grey characters is interesting as it maintain the suspense, both in the relationship between the main leads, but also in the core structure of the story. The characters had needs at the beginning of the story, but their desire slowly changed by interacting with their lovers and other characters. It is also good for viewers as they have the opportunity to prefer one side over the other one. I changed my mind a lot during those six episodes. I was feeling terribly sorry for Bison when I saw Kant's playing with his heart, but in the last two episodes, I understood how hard it must be for him to keep pretending while also falling in love, despite knowing the truth. I was amused by Style's aggressive flirting with Fadel, but also felt annoyed on behalf of Fadel as I noticed how his "secret life" was putting a toll on his mental health. Choosing to have morally grey characters work better with the setting of the story. Otherwise, who would root for hitmen to fall in love? The fact we care so much about the actions of the main characters and what impact it will have on their romantic relationship, confuse us and make us anticipate the next move they may make. It also allows the true villains of the story to actively continue working against our main leads' happiness. The ones who really gain from the new feud between the main couples are the Captain and Mother. They may believe they are in their rights, but they use the main characters as chest pieces, without regard for the toll it can have on their well-being.

Mother is using the maternal figure she has set to control Fadel and Bison's action. She is pretending to care about them. She willfully taught them how to be hitmen to supposedly kill other criminals. The reason may appears good, but the actions are not valid. You can't Pay Evil unto Evil. She pushed our characters in this place by using the death of their parents as an example of failed justice. She knows much buttons to push to keep them in the place she wants them to be. Mother pretends to understand that they are tired of being hitmen and that this job will be the last one, but will it really be the last one? She also purposely and actively works against their happiness, by keeping them lonely. Bison and Fadel may think they are in controls, but the viewers can see, they don't really have a say in their actions or life. They never settled before and they don't really know how to. They find a different way to cope with this, but deep down they are still prisoners of what Mother has made of their life. As for Kant, he is also being controlled by the Captain who knows about his desire to protect and care about his younger brother. He uses his criminal past to make him an informant. Unlike Mother who pretends to act as a true mother to the brothers, he doesn't lie about his real view of Kant. However, just like her, he knows much buttons to push to keep Kant working for him.

As for me now, I can’t wait for Bison, Kant, Fadel and Style to overcome the lying part and the feeling of betrayal they will have regarding their relationship, so they can all be on the same side and fight against their real enemies.

[bonefall]

Hey, what makes a character a 'plot device but not a character'? And how do you not do that? I'm trying to do it on purpose but also I need to still make them interesting because it's on purpose, yknow?

A good skill to pick up is to learn to criticise criticism itself. A "plot device" is simply a thing that moves the plot along, it's a neutral literary analysis term! Usually, when people are angry that "a character has been used as a plot device," it doesn't mean they hate plot devices. It means they're gesturing at something deeper.

Runningwind and Bumble are equally plot devices in their deaths. They are both killed by the antagonist to escalate political tension. Runningwind is rarely "accused" of just being a plot device, and yet, we're talking about Bumble for the same thing.

So, why?

Well, Runningwind is just a background character, but in life, he was a part of the community. He was characterized as impatient but responsible. Yet, he wasn't SO important that he died with a bunch of unresolved plot threads.

He is mostly an extension of the entity of ThunderClan. His killing by Tigerstar, and the fear and paranoia that settles on the group after this, feel like a progression of the story insteas of something forced.

Bumble, on the other hand...

Is hated immediately by Gray Wing, when she's established as Turtle Tail's friend. Bumble's abuse at Tom the Wifebeater's hands invites even MORE investment. The rejection is shocking and upsetting. There's a story there about our main characters being imperfect; jealous, bigoted, and judgemental.

But, she is simply killed off. Everything they set up for this character is gone with little personalized fanfare. It's not a tragedy with a lesson about cruelty, or something anyone regrets.

It's just... plot. Gray Wing whinging that no one will like his shitty brother now that his body count is 2.

More than that, in the discussion of women in particular, "Fridging" was coined to give a name to the way women characters often don't get their stories told at all. There is a CULTURAL trend of female characters facing disproportionate violence, for the sake of advancing male plots.

Bumble has a lot going for her. Petal had a lot going for her. Turtle Tail had a lot going for her. Bright Stream had a lot going for her. When they died, they took their potential with them.

It's not always wrong to kill off a character of high potential, mind you. In Gurren Lagann, Kamina's death is sudden and shocking, leaving a massive hole in the hearts of the cast that never heals. Grappling with that loss, but also letting his memory fuel them, is a major theme of that story.

All that to say... there's no formula for avoiding it. You've gotta identify what the deeper issue is, in your specific narrative.

I can't say for certain what that will look like for your story, but here's some things I keep in mind;

When you make characters who exist to die, make sure they're people before you axe them.

Ask yourself; what about them does the cast miss?

If they just miss them because they were (pre-existing relationship), go back to the drawing board.

Fluttering Bird as an example. Who was she? Dead sister. Why do they miss her? Dead sister. No traits until after her death.

Runningwind was short-tempered and helpful. Kamina was a valuable leader who made people believe in a brighter future. Swiftpaw was fiesty and desperate to prove himself. The better characterized, the more profound the loss usually is.

If this is a female character who is dying just to serve the plot, be aware of cultural bias and tropes. How is the gender ratio looking in your cast? Is this happening disproportionately with your girls?

Note how Quiet Rain's litter had both a boy and a girl, but the girl was chosen to be "weaker" and wither away.

And how most of the time in DOTC, whenever a man had to be upset, a girl would get killed for it.

If you ever feel like the character on the chopping block is NOT a full character, ask yourself why it needs to be a character at all. You don't need to spend narrative time building out someone when a literal object of high value might suffice.

"My sister died when I swore to protect her and I can't face my family" = Old. Tired. Ive seen this.

"I lost my heirloom sword when I swore to protect it and I can't face my family." = Fascinating. Why was the sword so valuable? Will they really not take you back? How did you lose it?

When you do kill off "high value" characters, try to make sure you're not leaving too many plot threads hanging. Or at least make a point of how they will never get closure.

[acaciapines]

rotating noelle around in my brain. i need the dess raises kris au to be real RIGHT NOW.

please talk to me about the dess raises kris au i think im gonna explode. also start writing it this summer maybe :3333

[arolesbianism]

I should rly start eternal gales posting again I need to make sure the ppl who follow me know how much Tali and Aris make me to insane so that the isat au can have its full effect but alas I am allergic to drawing the human eg cast like 99% of the time and rn the only thing stopping that from being 100% is that I like fucking around with different art styles sometimes

[desertdragon]

T/////Eight story amounted to basically nothing so I guess I'm back here to the other stupid as shit game I give too many chances on a more full time basis again (minus still writing my As///u/////Lil////i fic I love that thing too much and people in my DMs are counting on me for more)

At least I'll always have my friend and her best ending

And her faggot

EDIT: Ok it was nonsensical and full of holes like swiss cheese but now that i've calmed down this was always a goofy silly dumb game that cares less about taking itself seriously as it does being cool and fun, so while im disappointed and im allowed to be disappointed, im not running away with my expectations on this like others have. Tekken is still fun and will always have a place in my heart. And I do appreciate receiving some things I've always wanted regardless of my upsets with their execution flaws. They were finally able to make me feel like my favorite characters have closure on some level regardless, and that has to be commended.

[wiitchkins]

Main fields of mistria takeaway so far is I think.... More so than maybe any other farm-sim/harvestmoon-like since like early early harvest moon- this game places a lot of love and care on its characters & their relationships. It's a town that genuinely feels like a community, the npcs all have their own interpersonal relationships completely unrelated to you.

Repeat dialogue has been so minimal & in fact i keep getting surprised by the townies like. Talking to me about things I've done like hitting certain points in the mine, delivering certain mini-quest items to other npcs, dialogue hinting to/leading up to holidays/special events. Like reacting to my presence in the town.

Like. Even the bachelors/bachelorette have such thoroughly established friendships/relationships already that even if there was a rival system, I'd really have to rack my brain about who'd be paired with who because it could go so many ways because they all act like they know eachother for real! They're not always all in the same exact friend group either like the DnD group is different from who talks in crowds together at festivals (which is also different each festival!) or who hangs out in the evenings at someone's house or who drinks together at the inn or who etc etc!! It varies day by day! Ah! I could not even begin to figure out set schedules for these character because it does genuinely seem to vary day by day so much AND evolved as you go through the year/hit new story points... my god...

[yoonia]

risque business (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | Business and pleasure can never mix well. Not until he came into the picture while bringing trouble. He makes you break your own rules, and he loves breaking you apart into pieces, only to make you whole again with his sinful touch.  

⟶ Title | Risqué Business ⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader ⟶ Genre | Boss!reader, Employee!Taehyung, Situationship!au, older female reader ⟶ Word count | 7,940 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; Porn With Plot (if you squint a little), power play, fraternising, forbidden relationship, age gap (older female), with explicit sexual scenes, including: sexual tension, public sex, office sex, mild exhibitionism, dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, mild humiliation, praise kink, mentions of drunk sex, deepthroating, punishment talk, edging, begging, hair pulling, dirty talk, crass language, biting, lip biting, breast play, nipple play/biting, fingering, oral sex (female receiver), panty sniffing, clit play, hand job, clothed sex, restraint, light bondage, spanking, pussy slapping, crying (while OC is in a headspace), orgasm control, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, aftercare. ⟶ Author’s Note | I have no idea where this came from, but it just happened. This story is roughly edited as this was written during my busiest week, but I hope you can still enjoy this one. Happy reading! ⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). Banner design made by the lovely @shadowkoo, divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: Sept 30th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Black Swan - Taboo Relationship AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Workplace Relationship ⟡ Inclusions: Coworkers, Edging, Fingering, Exhibitionism, Restraints, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sub/Dom

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi  ⟶ Read on AO3

He is a walking temptation. 

This thought had run through your head ever since the moment he stepped foot into your office for his interview. You still remember how the entire room shifted when he entered, his presence drawing all the attention that you only saw as his potential. 

You only realise now that you should have seen it as a warning. 

He is trouble.

Yet another warning that you ignored. 

Because he has always been trouble since day one; since the moment you laid eyes on him and he returned your curious eyes with a smug grin and a pair of sultry eyes; when he kept offering to stay behind in the office after-hours to help whenever he caught you on overtime; or to do small favours just to get your attention on him when he noticed that you kept trying to ignore his presence. 

You had once thought that you would be able to control him. He is younger, after all. A newbie in your line of business even with years of experience in the field under his belt which he gained from other places, other companies that he joined before stepping into your property to align himself with yours. 

And you believed that he would look at you with undying respect. For him to know to follow the rules. To follow your ways if he has a strong will to learn and prosper under your wings. 

Yet another mistake that you have made. 

Because he has all the control. He is the one to make his own rules, and before you realise it, he has somehow managed to make you follow them the moment you rescind any control. 

And he is strictly forbidden. 

Forbidden to look at, to lust, to even imagine to have any dirty thoughts with. Forbidden to touch. 

But when he is the one touching you like this—

“Fraternising in the company is completely forbidden,” you breathlessly whisper to him while stifling a moan as his fingers—those long, deft fingers of his—trace down your cleavage, made exposed after he plucked a few buttons of your blouse loose earlier while he was distracting you with his deep, alluring voice. 

With your body pinned against the wall, right next to the door to your office, you are made to feel as if you have no escape. Nowhere to run from his touch and his compelling presence. 

Taehyung’s chest rumbles against your palms as he chuckles deeply, as if knowing that you are trapped between the wall and his body pleases him. His warm breath falls on your lips as he keeps taunting you with a promising kiss that never comes. “And I’m sure you were the one who made the rules.” 

“Maybe. I can’t seem to remember quite well.” 

You might as well be, as the one who built this company from the ground up. But it is hard to think clearly, much less to remember everything that you had done about the rules, when your mind is barely coherent. Too hazy with lust. Too muddled with the sensations he is bringing to your body. 

Humming to himself, he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear and whispers, “And what do they say about rules again?” 

You can only sigh. Because the way his lips are touching the right spots feels too good. “Hmm—I’m not sure I can think of any.” 

Your mind has gone blank. Your body is feeling too much, and not having enough at the same time that you are starting to wish that he would just stop stalling.

Less talk, more action. 

Yet any word of complaint dies on your tongue when he moves his lips lower, pressing at the side of your neck. “They say rules are meant to be broken,” he breathes against your skin.  

“Who said it? You?” 

A chuckle, and then a press of his lips on your skin thaws your ire. A nip, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a different kind of heat rolling through your body. “Maybe.” 

Your eyes flutter, closing briefly when he presses a kiss at your pulse point. A shudder runs through your body and you relish in it, sighing at how delicate yet sinful it feels. And how much you love it. 

“I should’ve known that you’re nothing but trouble.” 

Another chuckle, yet he doesn’t move his lips. His fingers, however, slip deeper under your blouse, finding the soft spot hidden under the lace of your bra. “Would you have hired me if you’d known then?” 

“Hard to say,” you try to deny it. But you know that he can tell what a terrible liar you are. 

Because you had always known he was trouble. 

“Really?” he taunts you. The mocking tone of his voice doesn’t unnerve you much, however, when all you can focus on right now is the way his fingers are dipping lower, slipping under your blouse, under your bra, while his other hand trails down to your hips. “Are you sure that wasn’t the reason why you took me in? You wanted trouble, didn’t you? You craved it.” 

You open your mouth to answer, only for the words to fail when he captures the shell of your ear with his lips, nipping at it at the same time his fingers slip under the lace of your bra to find your hardening bud. 

“I can tell how much you love it,” he murmurs against your ear at the light shudder he ignites through your body.  

Groaning deeply, you realise that it would be foolish to try and deny it now. Not when your body is engulfed in heat, nor when your skin feels like it is burning under his touch. 

Your mouth falls open with a gasp when he shoves down the front of your bra. Your nipples have grown hard after his constant teasing and have become so sensitive to the touch that the brush of your lace against the hardened tip feels intense. Your chest arches towards him, aching for him to lay his hand on your flesh once again. 

Smiling wickedly, he grazes his palms over your breasts, lightly bouncing their weight and kneading them. His head dips lower as he begins trailing soft kisses down the column of your throat. 

As your eyes flutter close, you vividly remember that neither of you had the chance to lock your door when Taehyung first barged into your office, offering to ‘help’ after knowing that you were still there, finishing your work while secretly waiting for him. It might be risky, knowing that you are not the only ones working late tonight. 

But frankly, you don’t care.

Your breath grows heavy, filled with need, and every thought of being caught slips out of your mind the more he goes lower. His lips barely touch your collarbone before he dips, pressing a kiss on the top of your breasts, starting from one side onto the next. Your body arches into his mouth, hoping to lead him to go lower. Taehyung follows, his lips moving closer to the tip of your breasts. His fingers linger on the lace of your bra, pulling down and down, opening up more space as he shoves and tucks them under your breasts, pushing them up. 

With a humming sound, his lips continue tracing your skin as he begins bending himself lower. You can feel his lips moving close, hovering towards his target, and your hand moves to the back of his head, clasping and sinking into his hair to guide him there. But right before he reaches your throbbing bud, Taehyung simply flicks his tongue with a brief touch and stops, before moving to the other side. 

“Tae—” you gasp, feeling like you are getting throttled back down after anticipating the wave of pleasure that you are seeking. But then your breath is caught when he does the same, kissing and licking until he is close to capturing your nipple into his sinful mouth, only to flick his tongue over it and move away. 

A deep chuckle rumbles from his throat at the sound of your soft whine. “What is it, baby? Do you want something from me?” 

“Stop teasing,” you murmur between your gasping breaths.

With a grin on his face, Taehyung presses his lips at the valley of your breasts, coaxing you to draw a deep breath. He straightens up after, standing tall before you and starts perusing your body with his deep gaze. 

“I love it when you look like this,” he marvels, while his eyes are roaming down your exposed breasts, his hands remain on your hips, holding you steady. “It turns me on to know that I’m the only one in this building who can see you like this.” 

Your body heats up under his gaze, yet you try to hide it. “Does that make you feel good about yourself?” you mock him with barely an ire in your body. 

“It would be a lie if I say it doesn’t,” he says with a wicked grin on his face. ‘But, you know—” He briefly pauses as he runs his gaze down your body one last time. Licking his lips, he shrugs off the suit jacket that he is wearing, tossing it away. “I wonder what would everyone think if they saw their admirable boss in this position.” He leans in, whispering to you, “I wonder what everyone would say if they had known I’m the only one who can make you lose yourself like this.”  

Thinking about such a scenario brings that warmth up to your cheeks. For years, you have built a credible reputation among your peers and the staff working in your company. Known mostly as the cold, calm leader with a steel-strong resolve when it comes to your work, everyone has always looked at you with respect, sometimes fear. 

Until one night, he came and changed everything. 

A mistake. That was what you called it. 

You had hoped that holding the New Year’s Eve party at the office building early this year would help build a strong bond between everyone in the company. It was supposed to be a simple celebration where everyone could get to know each other better, for your staff to mingle and build their networks in a more relaxed atmosphere. 

But as the alcohol was served and the rush quickly set in, and everyone got swayed into the celebration, even you had to give in to temptation. 

Taehyung had been the one to approach you first. From offering you drinks, to becoming your companion to talk to, sharing a couple of flirty comments and compliments which made your cheeks flush. Until you suddenly found yourself alone with him in the conference room while the party kept going outside. 

And then everything just fell into place. It all started with your knees pressed onto the cold floor of the conference room, his fingers entangled in the strands of your hair, his thick cock sliding in and out of your throat, and his deep voice—his pleasured grunts and moans—filled the room, barely drowned by the beat of the music still playing loudly on the other side of the wall. And he took it a step further when he finally took you while having you bent over the conference table, right where all the bosses and leaders would be having a meeting at the start of the new year. 

For the first time, you experienced pleasure like never before. The thrill that you were made to feel that night felt exhilarating and intoxicating at the same time, that you have continued craving for it again and again. 

And your secret tryst has continued almost every night since then. Always during the night time, when the office is quiet—except for the small group of people that would often linger to finish their extra work after dinnertime. Always in the confines of the rooms available on your floor; in your office, in the copy room, and many times in the conference room, where he would tease you about your first night together as you reminisced every moment you shared with him that night. 

“What are you thinking right now?” Taehyung asks, bringing one of his hands up, trailing the mess he has made out of your blouse before reaching up to touch the underside of your breast. “Are you thinking about that night again?” he asks, leaning close so he can whisper to you, “when we made a mess in the conference room and let everyone sit around the traces, completely oblivious, during the board meeting held the next morning?” 

Heat rushes all the way down between your legs when you recall that moment again. Then he brushes his thumb across your hardened nipple, causing the heat to pulse wildly from the depth of your core. 

You bite your lips, swallowing your moan. “Or maybe,” he whispers in your ear, “are you thinking about the time I stole your bra, forcing you to go around the office without one, with your nipples almost piercing through your thin blouse.” 

The flush in your cheek deepens, growing warmer as you remember the shame and humiliation you felt that day. While nobody seemed to have caught on to the lack of undergarments as you went about with your day, the thrill of having the risk of getting someone noticing your nipples through your soft lavender blouse you were wearing at the time heightened your senses, that by the time he finally rewarded you with pleasure, every cell in your body erupted beautifully like fireworks. 

“Look at you. You’re only thinking about the naughty things we did and you’re already responding like a good girl,” he teases you with a chuckle, noticing before you do the way your chest rises and falls rapidly with your breath, when the memories make you feel hot inside, ready to explode. Taehyung revels in this sight for a moment, and then he bends down to capture your unattended nipple with his lips, sucking hard on it until you let out a soft cry. 

In one swift movement, he pulls away and tugs your blouse off while keeping your bra on your skin. And then he is on you again, one arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into him. With his other hand resting on the back of your head, he kisses your lips. 

Your mind grows hazy with the kiss, barely feeling it as Taehyung weaves his fingers through your hair. Until he suddenly takes a handful of strands and pulls back, forcing you to release his lips and look up at him. 

At the sound of your small cries, his lips rise to a grin. He leans close, pressing his lips right under your ear as he questions you, "Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

With a gasp, you answer him, “Yes.” The sound comes out soft—too soft—showing him that you are already so close to unravelling. 

Yet he seems pleased as he leans back in to kiss your lips again. Your lips seem to melt into the kiss, while your body heats up further. “Funny enough, I find it hard to believe,” he murmurs against your lips. “Not with the way you kept teasing me all day.” 

“I did no such thing,” you try to protest. 

“Really, now? That’s not what I saw,” he murmurs with a deep voice, almost like a groan, “And I know what I saw.” 

You can only bite your lips. Because he isn’t wrong. 

You have been deliberately teasing him all day. Starting from the attire that you have chosen for the day, knowing that he would love it—a black pencil skirt paired with a short-sleeved, white blouse that is tight and thin enough to show a faint sight of the lacy maroon bra you are wearing underneath, and cut low enough to give him a peek of your cleavage whenever you bent down before him—to the way you kept leaning far too close whenever you came to his desk to have a brief talk about your recent project to give him the full show, forcing him to breathe in your perfume and feel your warmth against his body.  

“If I admit that I’ve been bad,” you whisper against his lips, “are you going to punish me?”

Taehyung tilts his head and shakes his head. “I’m starting to believe that you are beginning to love your punishments too much.” 

Looking right into his eyes, you reach up, pulling his tie down to lower his face while you run your other hand down the front of his shirt. Pressing your lips on his, you initiate a deep kiss, distracting him from your fingers as you reach down to his pants. Tightening your hold on his tie, you start undoing his pants with your clumsy hand while he continues kissing you like his life depends on it.

You move your hand inside his boxers, fingers wrapping around his hard cock, and a shudder rocks through his body at your touch. He lets out a groan and pulls away from the kiss, groaning deeply to say, “You’re really asking for some punishment, aren’t you?” 

He presses his lips on yours one last time, pressing a bit too hard for a peck, and then wraps each of his hands around your wrists. He gathers your hands together, easily clasping both of them together in one of his hands. At the feeling of being restrained, the urge to struggle for an escape builds within you. But you push it down, choosing to grow lax and let him take all control. 

Just like he always does. 

And just the way you need him to.

Once he feels all the tension in your body loosening, he pushes your entwined hands above your head, keeping them there to let you feel completely powerless. At the same time, he is getting the full view of your breasts as they are pushed upward the more he tightens his hold around your hands. The little noise you are making seems to urge him on, as you feel him hardening against your middle as he presses forward. 

“Is this what you want?” he asks while nipping at your bottom lip, drawing a series of moans from your throat when he does it while rocking his hips forward, pushing his barely covered cock against you. 

“Yes,” you answer with a hiss. Being held back, you are unable to rock back against him. Unable to touch yourself when the pulses of desire forming down below start growing more and more intense. 

But then Taehyung steps back, pulling roughly at his tie and slipping it off his collar. He uses his tie to bind your hands together before letting you go. With a smirk on his face, he kicks off his pants, not giving you the chance to protest as he grabs your waist and lifts you up from the floor. 

“Arms and legs around me if you don’t want me to drop you,” he says, and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist, hanging onto his weight, while you loop your bounded arms around his neck to hold yourself up. 

Pressing you closer to his chest, Taehyung captures your lips. He begins kissing you, pressing a slow kiss as he turns, taking you away from the wall and across the room, right where your desk is placed. 

Taehyung lifts you onto your desk, and you barely notice the movement and sounds happening behind your back as he shoves a stack of papers to the floor, too distracted by his kiss to notice everything else but the feeling of the wood pressing on your bottom. He pulls away from the kiss and unlatches your arms from his shoulders, still keeping them tied up together as they fall on your lap. 

You open your eyes to see his shirt falling off his shoulders, his chest rising and falling with his breath as he takes you in. He kneels down to the floor, plucking your heels and tossing them back, one at a time.

Taking his time, Taehyung slowly rises to his feet while running his hands slowly from your ankles, going up the back of your thighs. As he begins rising, he takes your legs in his hands and pushes them up with him. He bends your legs and positions the heel of your feet on the edge of the desk, parting them apart for him. A hum escapes him as he hikes your skirt up to your hips, revealing what you are wearing underneath. 

From the front, he wouldn’t be able to see much except for the triangle-shaped lace covering your pelvis, the maroon shade nearly matching the bra that is still attached improperly to your skin. But as Taehyung spreads your legs further apart, he would be able to see the thin layer of fabric growing thinner as it stretches along your slit, with merely a thin strip covering your folds, the back sinking between your bottom flesh, exposing more skin. As he continues to look, grinning slightly with pleasure at what he is seeing, the slickness you feel building from your center spreads, spoiling the thin layer of fabric covering your pussy and creating a flood right between your legs. 

“You’re wearing my gift.” His palms come down to the top of your thighs, and then slide back to your exposed bum. He begins rubbing gently on the skin and kneading your soft flesh with extra care as he whispers, “Good girl.” 

He gives your flesh a hard squeeze before he suddenly lifts you back up and flips you over. Placing your legs back to the floor, he bends you over the desk. Your body trembles the moment your breasts are pressed onto the table, while your hips are pulled back, pointing straight at him. 

You feel him bending down right behind you, pressing his chest to your back, his lips at the back of your ear before he whispers to you, “Put your arms forward, baby.” 

With a gentle hand, he helps you push your restrained hands forward until your fingers reach the edge of the desk across from you and you hold still in this position. With his other hand, he swipes away some books and papers that are still covering half of the desk, allowing you more space. 

“Keep holding to the edge,” he murmurs against the nape of your neck where he lays down a kiss, “Hold on as tightly as you can while I give myself a closer look.” 

You feel a tug at your waist before he pulls, and your skirt falls to your ankles. His hands grasp the top of your thighs, pushing them apart while tugging you back until your hips are nearly lifted, exposing every part of you for him to see. 

A sudden rush of vulnerability shoots right through you, of having your most intimate parts spread and displayed for his close inspection, of having no way to cover yourself from his perusing gaze, and a gasp escapes your lips. He brings the pad of his thumbs to your middle, slightly pressing at your skin to open you up. The thin strip of your panties slips between your wet slit, pressing against your clit, which he touches with the tip of his finger, causing you to tremble. 

A sound escapes you before you can stop it. More like a cry, and it echoes against the walls around you, sounding a bit too loud for a moment that is supposed to be kept secret. 

“Better to keep yourself from making too much noise if you don’t want to get caught,” he says with a chuckle. You can almost hear his smile when he adds, “And you better hold on tight.” 

Before you can figure out what he is trying to say, Taehyung presses one palm on the small of your back and slaps your bottom cheek with the other hand. Hard. Enough to send your hips rising, only to be stopped by the palm that is pressing you back down onto the desk. 

“Wha—” 

“That’s for deliberately dressing up the way you knew would drive me crazy,” he says while rubbing away the sting, before landing another slap on the other cheek, “and this is for making me go crazy during work hours by flaunting around me all day.” 

Another slap. “For wearing my gift,” he explains, and when you try to protest, knowing that you had worn it simply for him, he gives another slap, then, “and risking anyone else seeing it before I did.” 

Another slap. “For being so loud and making noises.” Another, then, “For trying to sneak in an orgasm before I even touched you.” His words make you gasp, recalling the way you tried to rub your covered pussy on his thigh earlier when he first pinned you against the wall of your office. 

While your mind is slowly growing numb, Taehyung continues, shifting between rubbing the pain he inflicts on your skin before giving you another spank and another, always while letting you know the reason why you deserve the punishment. And these aren’t gentle, light spanks, but hard and deliberate, aiming mostly on your soft flesh and sometimes catching your folds and exposed sex with each slap, his palm coming away wet with your arousal. 

The fire he ignites within you feels more intense than the sting that you feel on your skin. It comes from your very core, building rapidly until the pain is muddled under the pulse of pleasure. 

The urge to fight him kicks in once or twice, even when the pulse of your lust rises from your sex. But you find yourself holding still, your body denying your mind’s need to move. Except for the gentle rock of your hips whenever his palm lands on your throbbing folds. 

It feels horrible and incredible at once, to be in this position. To have someone taking over control. It makes you feel helpless, but, for once in your life, you are not fighting for control. You don’t have to feel all the worries of having your life, your world, tilting off of its axis when you are not holding onto it so tightly. So you let him have it. To have all the control so you can have a moment of reprieve. And you let him punish you because you know what is coming next.

Pleasure.

Pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Do you think you deserve these punishments?” You hear pure sex in his voice when he whispers those words, and you moan in response. “What’s that, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” The words come out of your lips as if they come so naturally. It draws a soft groan from him as he gently rubs your skin, soothing you from the sting once he stops spanking you. 

“Fuck, baby. You make me grow hard from seeing how responsive you are.” 

His words draw a soft, low moan from your lips. All of a sudden, you feel the need to touch him. The sudden desperate need to know just how hard he is and release him from it makes your hands itch. 

You feel him bending down, his hands moving to your hips and planting a kiss on each raw cheek, as if trying to kiss the pain away. He moves to press his lips at the center, kissing your swollen folds roughly, before he suddenly rises and lets you go. 

Standing behind you, Taehyung lifts you from the desk and spins you around again. Grabbing your hips, he carefully lifts you up and lays you back on the desk. 

Lying back, you resist the urge to close your eyes, choosing to keep your gaze on him as he runs his fingers across your tender skin and up to your waist, and then back down again to rub across the top of your thighs. A tug, and he is pushing your panties aside, exposing your pulsing cunt to his hungry, prying eyes. 

“So beautiful. So wet for me,” he whispers with a deep groan. 

His fingers remain for a moment longer on the insides of your thighs, and then begin their climb up to your pulsing center. You haven’t even felt his touch, yet your body begins trembling, already anticipating the touch of his fingers at your heat. And when he finally finds your nether lips, pressing them apart to reveal the source of your heat, your hips rise and flinch. 

Taehyung hums as he runs his fingers up and down your slit with ease, gathering every drop of your arousal as he gently pushes a finger into you.  

“Oh!” A gasp slips out of you at the sudden intrusion. His finger feels thick as you seem to have grown tighter, with your pulsing walls clenching hard around him. Taehyung begins thrusting his finger in and out, adding another once you’ve grown slick and stretched enough for him. He keeps drawing the sounds of your moan as he keeps pressing at the right places, and then you let out a cry of pleasure when he presses his thumb over your clit. 

Bending over you, Taehyung slows down. “Keep your voice down, baby,” he whispers in your ear, drawing a soft whine from you.  

“Who said you can boss me around?” 

“You did,” he whispers, taking your earlobe between his sinful lips to nibble, before he practically growls deeply to your ear, “The last time I got you screaming my name.” 

You open your mouth to answer, yet he quickly presses a finger on your lips, stopping you from speaking. It takes you a moment to understand why. 

Too immersed in everything that has been going on within the walls of your private office, you forget to pay attention to the hallway outside. Your eyes snap towards the closed door just when you can finally hear it; the sound of footsteps, heels clicking and the soles of flat shoes dragging on the floor, as they walk down the hallway, passing your office without possibly knowing what is happening right behind these walls. 

But you find no energy nor will to pay more attention to them, even if you can still hear them getting further and further away. Not when Taehyung doesn’t let up, still moving and thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace, as if he wants to keep the rush of pleasure running through your body through the short distraction. 

As he begins quickening the pace again, Taehyung looks at you in the eyes and grins. “Is the risk of getting caught making you feel hot? You say that you don’t want anyone to see you like this, to know what you’re doing, and yet—” He looks down, his gaze sharpening and growing deeper at the same time when he sees his fingers disappearing deep inside you. “You’re growing wet down here, baby.” 

“No, I didn’t,” you try to deny it with a gasp. Yet your body betrays you, when your hips continue rocking against his hand and light gasps slip out of your lips. 

“Are you sure, baby? Because I can feel it here,” he says, pushing his fingers so deep your hot walls engulf the entire length of his digits tightly as the waves of your pleasure begin rising back up. “See? Your panties are completely ruined because of your juice.” 

With gasping breaths, your head falls back. You bite your lips to hold back your moans, just as your body continues rocking, chasing the pleasure that has somehow been growing more intense. “I—I like it,” you finally whisper, the truth slipping out of your lips no matter how much you are ashamed to admit it. 

“What do you like, baby? Tell me,” he coaxes you gently while he continues fucking you with his fingers, nearly making it hard for you to speak. 

“I like that someone is out there while you’re here, playing with my body,” you admit, both to yourself and him, as you open your eyes. “I like knowing that I might get caught while doing sinful things at the office. It turns me on.” 

Chuckling, Taehyung nips at your lips. “Good girl,” he mutters against your lips. “I love it when you are honest.” 

“Do I get my reward, then?” you tease him, drawing a smile to his face. 

“You deserve a lot more,” he groans as he gently pulls his fingers out of you, leaving your muscles pulsing against emptiness. “I’m going to make your wish come true. Maybe we’ll get caught this time,” he mockingly says, making you gasp, “but I want to make you come while all those staff are still roaming your floor.” 

Heat flushes through your body at the thought of such a possibility happening. Combined with the fear of being caught, and having someone who comes passing down this floor hearing the sounds of your wanton tryst to know what you are up to. 

“And I’m going to make you come so hard you leave a mess on your desk, so you’ll be thinking about me, about us, when you’re working here tomorrow,” he swears as he yanks down your ruined panties. You don’t even have to look into his eyes to know he’s going to deliver his promise.

“Now get your hands back to where they’re supposed to be and hold on tightly.” 

With a deep exhale of breath, you reach up, extending your arms over your head and once again reaching up until the tips of your fingers are hooked on the edge of the desk. Your arms are strained, so are your shoulders, and you can barely hang on. Having these arms away and your body being forced to adjust to the tension only makes you feel more hyperaware of his touch as he runs his fingers up and down the curves of your body. 

Taehyung bends over you, pressing a kiss on top of your chest. Then he moves down, kissing your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. He begins sucking, lapping, and grazing his teeth around the bud until you let out a series of soft cries at how good it feels. He then moves to the next one, doing the same, sometimes giving a light bite on your nipple until you are arching your chest on the desk, pressing your breasts to his mouth to feel more. 

In the back of your mind, you know that the two of you are not yet alone. You can almost still hear the faint footsteps walking somewhere at the far end of the hallway, yet you don’t seem to give a single fuck about it. You lift your hips just enough for Taehyung to pull your soiled panties off of you, slipping them down your legs and taking them in his hand. 

He gives you a cheeky grin as he brings it to his nose, drawing warmth flushing through your cheeks when he sniffs at it, breathing in the scent of your arousal with a soft hum. Once he has enough, he drops it to the floor, together with the pile of clothes and your discarded heels. 

Then his hands return to you, parting your legs before diving between them, kissing and biting your thighs as he makes his way up to your pulsing center. You have grown so hot for him already. So needy. That the moment Taehyung puts his mouth over your clit, your body erupts, and you see stars from under your eyelids. 

“Taehyung, I—” You gasp, hips rising with the waves of pleasure rushing from your core, and Taehyung immediately pulls away. 

“Naughty girl. Look at how responsive your body is to me.” With a deep chuckle, he squeezes your thigh, lifting your leg away from his shoulder when you don’t even realise that you have it wrapped around him when you try to push back for more pleasure. “Don’t cum just yet. Not until I have my fill and say you can.” 

He bends your legs back up on the desk, lifts your hips, and slaps your bottom cheeks one last time, giving one light slap on each side, before sliding you down to the edge of the desk. And then he dives back down, burying his face between your legs. With his gentle fingers, he pushes your thighs apart, opening you up, and then his mouth finds your center. 

With his sinful mouth, he opens you up, tongue slipping gently between your slit and lashing against your clit, hard and rough at the same time as if he is doing it out of hunger. You feel his mouth moving; sucking, kissing, biting, alternating from one action to another at a maddening pace which sends your mind spinning, floating high with the pleasure he is giving you. 

Your breath quickens as an orgasm starts to take over. You feel it coiling deep in your core, rolling out and ready to spread like a wave. Taehyung must be feeling it too, as he grips your hips and grinds you against him, making you fuck his mouth and tongue. And he doesn’t let up. Not showing any sign of slowing down. 

But he hasn’t given you permission to come yet. 

So you do the only one thing you feel right to do. You start begging, “Taehyung, please—” 

Hearing your words, Taehyung lifts his head, only enough for him to look up at you. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks, almost mockingly, while he works his fingers to continue what his mouth was doing to you. 

“Yes, Sir. I do.” 

“Tell me the right words.” 

You look straight into his eyes as you beg, “Please, Sir. Please let me come.” 

“Good girl,” he murmurs with a soft chuckle. He moves his hands, pulling your legs up to rest them on his shoulders, further taking away your control. And then his hands return to you, one holding your thigh up against him as he buries his face at your center again, the other reaching forward, pressing at your entrance, sliding in and out while he captures your clit with his mouth. And he begins sucking. “Now come.” 

Just like that, the dam breaks. You come with an orgasm so intense it nearly blocks out every sense in your body, blocking you from hearing your own cries of pleasure. You come while you are pressed against his face, legs shaking and toes curling, and it doesn’t seem to stop. Because he has yet to let you go. 

Taehyung slips another finger inside, going right to your sweet spot. The muscles in your thighs contract around him, your legs squeezing around his neck, pressing onto his shoulders. 

Yet Taehyung continues, relentlessly pushing you to another climax. 

Every single nerve in your body has come alive, lighting up like fireworks, burning, and burning, all in the best way possible. You feel like you might explode, and you can feel it happening as you rock against his face, allowing him to bring you further after pushing you off the edge of release. 

Turning your head to the side, you bite your lips, stopping yourself from making any more sounds. Your eyes are squeezed shut, yet you are now seeing stars, and your ears are ringing. You can feel it rather than hear it when Taehyung moans against your flooding cunt, as if watching you get off is helping him get himself off. 

Thinking about how hot that is sends you through another wave of pleasure. One that takes you higher than the last. Overwhelmed, you let go of the desk and reach down, pushing against his head using both of your tied hands and your hips, between pulling him towards you as you press your hips harder against his face and begging to be freed. 

You can barely remember how to breathe, and he isn’t making it easier when he continues lapping at your release until your hips rock back, your body searching for an escape. 

Reluctantly, Taehyung moves back and stands on his feet, bringing your legs up with him as they remain on his shoulders. You open your eyes when you feel him tugging at your hands, tsk-ing with his tongue as if disappointed. 

“I only allowed you to come, not to let go.” 

Still seeing stars, your heart still hammering in your chest, you can barely make out his figure as he looms over you, nor can you process his words. Then your eyes are cleared, and you see him kissing your tied-up wrists with dark mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Realising your mistake, a whine slips out of you. “It was too much,” you whisper, still breathless after what he just did to your body, and finding it harder to breathe when he steps closer, almost forcing your body to bend with your legs lifted against him. 

With a tug, he releases your hands and drops his tie to the floor. He keeps one hand around your wrists, holding them up so he can kiss around the marks left behind on your skin, and the pulses coming from your blood as it flows back through your hands. Then he uses his other hand to reach inside his boxers to pull out his stiff cock. 

Your gaze slides down from your hands to his, watching as he begins stroking his shaft. He has grown hard, his cock looking heavy and rigid. Your entire body tingles with your release, and the anticipation you feel from what is coming next. 

“Remind me to punish you for this later,” he says as he leaves one last kiss and releases your hands. “First, you need to finish what you started.” He moves over you, bending forward as he lets your legs fall to his sides, hanging limply over his elbows as you are made to sprawl beneath him, completely exposed. 

Your arms are still sore after being stretched up for so long. Your fingertips are tingling at the rush of blood flow. Pulses of pleasure are still winding through your body, and you feel no energy to reach up and wrap your arms around him. Yet your trembling hands still find the back of his head when he lowers himself on you. The tip of his wet cock brushes against your sensitive clit as he pushes forward, and you almost come to another set of orgasms. 

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he kisses you. Blinding you with the sensation it brings until space and time no longer have meaning. Then you feel him pushing, entering you with one firm thrust until you are made to feel full, complete, as he buries himself deep inside you. 

Your eyes roll back when he begins to move, thrusting hard and fast, holding himself up by his elbows after letting your legs fall on either side of him so he can continue kissing you deeply the harder he fucks you into the desk. 

He moves back slightly, catching his breath as he bends one of your legs back up, stretching it toward the ceiling as he rests it over one shoulder. He continues rocking, thrusting steadily into you as his fingers slide down from your ankle, your thigh, finding their way back down to your core again. You rock back against his thrusts just as his thumb starts circling your clit, pressing and flicking until you are once again left breathless. 

“Yes, baby. Come for me. Come hard,” he orders you with a low voice, sending you over the edge. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come,” he groans, watching your body arch on the desk at the rush of pleasure taking over you, his praises drawing more heat in your core. 

And then he starts fucking you harder and faster, almost like he is allowing himself to lose control, to give in to his own pleasure. You open your eyes for half a second, meeting his gaze. The dark look he is giving you is filled with raw admiration and lust and wanton desire, and seeing him looking at you so intensely this way feels like such a turn-on. It makes you feel more, heightening the sensation you feel building in your body. 

He pushes his cock deeper, sending you to another orgasm, making a wet mess beneath your bodies just the way he wanted. The intense pulse of your climax and knowing that he has made good on his promise push Taehyung over the edge, and he comes to his final release just seconds later. 

You feel his warmth building inside you, filling you up with each thrust of his cock, each pulse of his orgasm, nearly sending you to another. You both collapse onto the desk once he comes to a halt, all sweaty and out of breath, but filled with contentment. 

When the initial rush of pleasure begins to wear off, making you more aware of your body beyond the intense pulsing of your climax, more flesh and bones instead of the unfettered sparks of carnal pleasure surging under your skin, everything that is happening at the present comes to you in an engulfing wave. 

Taehyung’s deep voice is whispering soothing words to you. His strong arms are holding you up as you continue shaking against his chest, and the tears that are pooling in your eyes from both pleasure and pain which feel so intense, so intoxicating. 

And when the warmth that you feel deep inside your core pulses for the last time, giving the final squeeze around his softening cock that is still buried inside you, a sharp gasp slips out of your lips. Even without the same firmness, he still makes you feel full of him. Both from his presence, and from the warmth of his release that is locked deep inside you. 

Taehyung’s gaze softens when he looks at your face. He gently sweeps away your messy hair from your face, and wipes your tears before they get a chance to escape. Pressing his lips on your forehead, Taehyung reaches out to the edge of the desk to pull a bunch of tissues. 

He slowly steps back, pulling his cock out of you. A gasp slips from you at the loss of his thickness, while his essence begins seeping out of you with each spasm of your muscles. With a click of his tongue, Taehyung looks down and begins cleaning up the mess on your thigh, ignoring the mess pooling on the wooden desk as he tosses away the soiled tissue. 

His fingers come back to your center, stopping the rest of his release from falling out of you and carefully pushes some of it back in. With a whimper, you reach down to grab his wrist, yet make no move to stop him as he drags some of his cum along your slit, around your clit, and pushes them all back into your throbbing entrance. 

“Remember that I still have one last punishment for you,” he whispers to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he continues working his fingers to stop his cum from escaping you. “Make sure not to waste any drop of my cum until you get home, and I’ll excuse you this one time.” 

Tightening your muscles to keep every drop of his essence left inside you, your eyes flutter open as you nod and whisper, “Yes, Sir.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think of this. See you in the next one!

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[jjscrybaby]

prompt 5: ‘they’re all lying’

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (meeting the pogues, anxiety, jj being adorable, drinking, mentions of weed, embarrassing stories.)

not proofread! send reqs!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“I’m nervous,” you admitted softly, JJ’s hand in yours as the two of you walked down the street towards the Chateau.

The blonde let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. He gave your hand a squeeze, trying to comfort you so you didn’t take offence from his amusement. “You have nothin’ to be nervous about.”

“I do, J!” You bickered, pouting over at him with a look of irritation. He laughed again, making you pull your hand away from his. “It’s not funny.”

He stopped walking, grabbing your waist so that you would stop with him. His hands rested on your hips as he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, it ain’t funny. But trust me, you don’t need to be scared. All we’re doin’ is sitting around drinking beer.”

“They’re gonna be judging me the whole time, making sure I’m good for you,” you argued, avoiding eye contact with him.

Deep down you knew you were over-reacting. JJ’s friends, the Pogues, were known for being the most chill group around the island. All they did was smoke, surf and drink. But this was different than meeting any old boyfriend’s friends; you were meeting his family. You were well aware of JJ’s childhood — his mom leaving and his dad being an asshole — so you also knew how much his friends meant to him.

John B had been in his life since he was a kid, and the others came along throughout the years. He talked about them like they hung the moon and the stars, and all you wanted was for them to like you. You’d been putting it off for weeks, always coming up with excuses so you didn’t have to tag along but he could see straight through you. It was the most annoying thing about him.

“I promise, sweetheart, they’re gonna love you,” he soothed, one of his hands moving up to run through your hair. You swatted his hand away, having spent half an hour perfecting it.

“What if they don’t?” You asked quietly. Your biggest worry wasn’t that they weren’t going to like you, but that JJ would agree with them.

As said, he can see right through you, so the question sent all amusement off his face. “Hey. You don’t need to worry about us, okay? You’re my girl, right?” You nodded slowly. “Then there’s nothin’ to worry about. Now come on, let’s go get some booze in you.”

“Okay,” you hum, re-taking his hand to make the rest of the walk.

You weren’t even in the backyard before you could hear the sound of laughter and chatting, JJ gave you a reassuring smile and lead you around the side of the house to where they were sat. Kiara had her legs thrown over Pope’s lap, a joint in hand, John B was sipping on a beer and talking with Pope and Sarah was on her phone next to him. Very chill.

“The main attraction has arrived!” JJ yelled, getting all their attentions and a glare from you.

“There they are,” Kiara grinned lazily over at the two of you. He lead you closer and she held her hand up in a wave. “I’m Kie, nice to meet you.”

You introduced yourself, giving her a shy smile as John B stood up and threw his arm around your shoulders. “So you’re the girl that JJ’s utterly obsessed with?”

“Uh… I hope so,” you laughed, making the rest of them chuckle too.

“Come sit,” Sarah instructed, tapping the space beside her. “We want to hear all about how JJ is as a boyfriend.”

You looked back at JJ, who gave you a nod. Sarah beamed as you sat down beside her, instantly asking you every question that came to her mind to do with you and JJ; how you met, who initiated the first kiss, what his love language is. After Kie wasn’t quite so high, she came and joined the two of you to get in on the details.

A couple hours had passed, you were having fun with the girls as the three boys listened in every now and then — just to have some extra ammo to tease JJ with later on. It was the time of the night that you were all buzzed and the embarrassing stories had begun.

“He had this serious crush on her, no need to get jealous he was only nine, but he decided the best way to get her attention was dump mud all over her at recess,” John B explained, a wide grin on his face.

You giggled as JJ covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “Did it work?”

“No!” John B exclaimed, chuckling. “She told the teacher on him so he put bugs in her pencil case.”

“What a romantic,” you teased, turning to a red-faced JJ beside you. He flipped you off, and then turned to John B and kept it up.

From that story, more just came to the Pogues. They spent the next excruciating (for JJ) hour telling you everything they could think of. There was the time he got caught pissing in a bush by an elderly couple and tried to explain it away by saying his pants fell down. Sarah was so excited to tell you about him accidentally wearing Kie’s jeans to school after a heavy night that she fell right off her chair.

You were leant against JJ’s shoulder, giggling still. The stories had died down, but every time they replayed in your head you’d fall into a fit of laughter once again.

“They’re all lying,” JJ stated, sipping on his beer with a small smirk.

“We have photographic evidence,” Pope argued, pulling his phone out. JJ was tackling him to the ground in seconds.

You weren’t sure what you’d been so worried about, in reality JJ should have been the one panicking.

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[mellowyellow236]

How Would the TWST Boys react to a Yuu/Reader like the “Princess” in their movie?

While the reader is gender neutral, when I use the word “Princess”, I mean the leading female character in their movies, the exception being Savanaclaw (The Reader is based on Belle from Beauty and the Beast; I thought it fit more than Nala and most other characters are male or side characters) All drabbles are meant to be interpreted as romantic, except for those in Ramschakle, Ortho, or if otherwise stated, but most can also be read as platonic. Some are just headcanons, while others are more like a story. 

This is not an idea unique to me! However, I’ve seen a lot of people do it so I’m not sure who the original was. 

As always, if you have anything to add or any questions, please leave a comment or ask. Requests are open! 

All parts below the cut :)  

Heartslabyul: Alice from Alice In Wonderland 

Riddle Rosehearts - 

Pre-overblot Riddle isn’t the biggest fan of how you act. Why is he painting the roses? Because that’s the rule. Doesn’t it hurt them? No, it’s magic, obviously. Why is it a rule? Because it is, stop asking so many pointless questions. 

He grew up in an environment where he wasn’t meant to question the rules, so to see someone question the rules and everything about the world? He doesn’t know how to handle it. You’re not breaking any rules, but would you if given the chance? Is that ground to collar you? 

Post-overblot, Riddle finds that he quite likes you. He thinks you’re a positive influence, and can balance him out well. If he’s following the rules too hard, he just has to think like you do and ask why the rule exists. He has a little mini-you in his head to keep him in check. 

He likes to walk around Heartslabyul with you. “You get lost too easily” is his main excuse, but he just wants to spend time with you. After all, you're his favorite troublemaker. He has to try to take care of you. 

Platonic - If you were an actual child like Alice, he would try his best to give you all the treats and things he never got to have growing up. He’s pretty over-indulgent, all things considered. He has to stop himself from spoiling your dinner by giving you tarts... 

Trey Clover - 

Trey thinks that you’re very sweet, and bakes you lots of treats. 

Can your questioning be annoying? Yes. Does that mean that he won’t often entertain your questions and try to find answers? No. If anyone in Heartslabyul is willing to answer all of your questions, or at least try to, it’s him. 

The one thing is that he needs to hide all of his sweets from you... ‘Eat Me’ doesn’t actually mean you can eat whatever it is all the time, you know? He has treats you can eat here, just leave those for the unbirthday party later alone! 

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, he goes full dad mode. He makes you lunches and dinners, gives you piggyback rides whenever you want, and invites you over to help you study. he probably has one of those toddler leashes people use for chaotic children for you so you don’t get lost in the garden again. 

Cater Diamond - 

Cater likes how curious you are. It makes him think of you as a younger sibling, and he gets to show you around. He might even hide you away from Riddle if he notices that you’ve been munching on one of his tarts. 

Ask him whatever questions you’d like! He doesn’t have all the answers, but he’ll happily google it or ask MagiCam if they’ve got them. 

Speaking of MagiCam, prepare to be put on there a lot. You have such pretty dresses, like a doll! He loves to take pictures of you in the garden, you blend right in with the other students. If he can get you to stay still for long enough, that is. 

Platonic, Angst - If you’re the same age as Alice was, expect him to try and dote on you a lot. He knows what it’s like to move away from everything and everyone that you love, even if it’s different from you, and he wants to try to make it as easy as he can for you.

Ace Trapolla - 

Ace thinks that you’re a funny person. You’re constantly asking stupid questions, you often eat treats, and you seem to know even less than he does about manners and the Queen of Hearts’ rules. 

And you’re so fun to tease! You’ll get all mad and then run off, or skip the getting mad part to leave and go a different route whenever the garden gets a bit too wild. 

Not to mention, you’ll try just about anything put your way. Expect plenty of pranks from him giving you magical cookies and drinks. They’ll wear off soon enough, but he still wants to have fun while he has to chance. 

Not to mention, you’re just as bad at studying as he is. Talk about fate, you two can run away and skip class to go hang out in the hedge maze together. Just make sure Riddle doesn’t catch you two again... 

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, then Ace somehow becomes a much better person to you. He doesn’t like getting teased by his older brother, so even if he does it to you a bit, it’s not too much. And then he gets you treats and will sometimes carry you around, so he more than makes up for it. 

Deuce Spade - 

Deuce sees you kind of as an enigma. You aren’t too concerned about getting home; You want to, but it doesn’t seem to concern you so much as finding answers to your immediate problems. 

And yet, you still seem so interested in the world, never losing what you wanted to do. Yes, you’ll pout and glare when Riddle corrects you or Ace teases you, but soon enough you’ll go back to your lust for life. It’s commendable to him. 

You’re one of his favorite people, and he wants to protect you. You don’t know how to defend yourself too well, from words or fists, and so he tries his best to do it for you. 

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, you’ve got a very sweet Duece as an older brother. You’re his younger sibling in his head, and so he’s kind of protective. He tries to help you out to do things, even if he’s hopeless at all kinds of school as well, and makes sure you don’t go down the wrong path like he did. 

Savanaclaw: Belle from Beauty And The Beast

Leona Kingscholar - 

Leona... Oh, Leona. The first thing he wants to do is hit you. Why are you hanging around him? He’s done everything in his power to get away, and yet you refuse to. What is wrong with you? 

And then he gets used to it. Oh the seven, he gets used to it. You’re not in the botanical gardens to read to him during your lunch break? Now you are. He went to the library to go get you, you better follow him. You have work to do so you can’t? Well, no one ever said he had to leave. They can’t tell him to, he’s a prince, anyway. 

Speaking of being a prince, he once made an offhanded comment about his home having a library in the palace. Cue you gushing all about it and Leona trying to figure out if he’d rather take you home to see it or build you your own in Ramshackle. In the end, he does neither, but he does give you his and his brother's NRC and RSA textbooks, respectively. Now you have double the reading material, and Leona only had to sacrifice some of his pride to ask, rather than all of it by bringing you home. 

He starts to fall for you before he realizes it. You’re so nice to him, and never see him as lesser even after he tells you that he doesn’t have the energy to study ever. You just read him the material, and he soon realizes that he picks up on it more when you’re reading. It doesn’t cure him, he still doesn’t show up to class, but at least he feels better about himself now that he’s able to learn something. 

Angst - He doesn’t want to introduce you to his family, but he gets a little more tempted after you talk about your father. His parents weren’t the best, but hearing you talk about him makes him think of his older brother more than anything else. And if you talk about how he got lost badly in the woods once and you couldn’t find him, until the carriage found you, Leona is forced to think about how he and Checka felt when he left for NRC and started barely coming back. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to convince Leona that he can love not just you, and not just his family, but himself as well. 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Ruggie gets you. You both came from places where money was often tight and with one guardian, even if you were in a small village and he was in the slums. Incredibly different in most ways, but similar in enough. He knows what it’s like to have someone tell you you can’t do or be something because of factors you can’t control. 

He likes hearing you talk about yourself. It’s refreshing, to see someone just offering up information without expecting anything in return. He’s not afraid you’re going to hit him like he is at home, and you seem aghast if he brings it up. It’s a lot of fun being with you. 

You read to him, too. Long stories and short ones, and for the first time he’s okay with sitting still for a couple of hours. He loves to nap on you while you read. It’s a great chance for him to relax and for you to be able to share whatever book has your interest at the time. 

Jack Howl - 

Jack thinks that you’re a pretty good person. After all, you treat everyone so nicely. But to him, that isn’t anything special. You’re just another face in the crowd at first. 

But one day, he gets hurt while running near Ramshackle, and you find him. He’s surprised and enamored, not only by how you were able to walk all that way just to explore but also because of how you were able to patch him up so nicely. Someone who can do physical activity and knows enough to do first aid? He’s impressed. 

Afterwards, he starts hanging around you more. He thinks that your love of learning and reading, as well as your adventurous spirit, is beautiful. He wants to get closer to you and become your friend or more. 

Also, that one thing you hear people do where one guy’s doing pushups and the other’s sitting on their back and reading? He does that. Please read aloud to him, he likes hearing your voice and also knowing that you’re also happy when he spends time with you. 

Octavinelle: Ariel from The Little Mermaid 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

Azul believes you to be rather useful. After all, you were willing to sign a contract immediately, if it hadn’t been for Grim pulling you out. He could get Ramshackle Dorm all for himself very quickly... 

But then, he hears you singing to yourself, and he decides that he must have your voice. Above all else, he wants to listen to you sing. But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your voice. He thinks having you work for him would be just as good, at first. 

And you trust him after that. He loves it, loves how you draw in customers, and how you don’t think he’s weird or ugly. You trust him, and you believe in him, and it’s wonderful. 

Angst from here down - ...And then you start talking about a human boy. Someone from another dorm, he doesn’t care who. But they have your heart, and you love them, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. You loved him, but now there’s a pretty human boy that you love more, and you’re only coming to Azul for advice on courting? That’s not right.

In the end, Azul does offer you a contract that will give you a love potion in exchange for your voice. This is what he wanted at the start. This is what he wanted, right? Except he doesn’t want it anymore. He hates the fact that he has no excuses to see you, and you only come to Mostro Lounge for dates with your boyfriend, he hates how you only ever want to write to him about your lover rather than talk about any little thing as you used to. 

In the end, he’s the one that turns into seafoam, alone in his office with only a voice to keep him company, having it repeat the only words he wanted to hear. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Jade Leech - 

Jade thinks you to be an interesting subject. A merperson, so set on going up to land that you’re almost squealing for joy every minute. How odd. He wants to study you. 

Once you’re working at the Mostro Lounge, he takes his chance to examine how you behave. He tries feeding you, but you use the forks to do your hair. Interesting, you seem to know much less about the human world than he did when coming here. And the names you come up with for them? How on Earth did you even think of something so out there... 

Angst from here down - Out of the Octavinelle trio, he’s the least jealous on the outside. After all, you’re so cheerful and easily distracted, surely this boy must be just a stranger who’s caught your interest for a moment. Floyd does the same thing all the time, and the boy doesn’t even seem to like you back. You’ll be back to asking him about mushrooms in no time. 

But you aren’t. That’s when he starts to go a bit crazy. You haven’t given up on this human boy, why? Because he has legs? You know that potions give Jade the same thing, right? You’re being silly. What does that boy have that he couldn’t give you, right here where you belong? 

He takes it hardest when you lose your voice. Jade’s always loved control, and it’s something he’s always had. But now, he doesn’t. You’ve decided to leave him, and he wasn’t even given a chance at control. Not even a chance to fix whatever it was that he needed to fix. 

He tries to play it off. Of course, he knew. You must have mentioned it, Azul must have told him. He gaslights himself into thinking it wasn’t any more than a snap decision, that you’ll come back within the week month year and make a contract for your voice back, and then Azul will make you stay. Yes, that’s what will happen. Of course, it will. Of course. It couldn’t be any other way. 

Floyd Leech - 

You’re a really fun Shrimpy. You sing, and you do funny stuff with forks and things. You make a great person to hang out around. You even name objects like he names people! “Dinglehopper”? That’s fun, he’s going to start doing it! 

When you start singing for customers at the Mostro Lounge, he’s ecstatic. He gets more time around you, and more people come that he can squeeze, and Jade and Azul are happy! What more could he want? You’re a great, fun Shrimpy that he wants to spend so much time with and squeeze!

Angst from here down - And then you start talking about a boyfriend. What do you mean he’s not the most important person to you? Do you not care about all of the time you’ve spent together? Was he only ever a placeholder? It seems like it when all your hangout time is now time spent with him. 

Floyd misses you, and when he finds out Azul has your voice, he’s mad. He doesn’t even get a little piece of you, the one thing you left here? You didn’t even tell him about it before you did it? Was he really nothing to you? 

You aren’t able to come back to the Mostro Lounge. If you did, Floyd would either smother you in love or kick you out. He can’t stand the thought of you leaving, so why’d you do it? Why’d you have to up and leave him? Why, Shrimpy, why? 

Scarabia: Jasmine from Aladin 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

You and Kalim hit it off right away. At least, from his perspective, you do. You might find him a little annoying, but you bringing your tiger and talking with him like he was your equal? Kalim is over the moon. You treat him like a Jamil that isn’t working for him! That’s a great friendship. 

Speaking of your tiger, he loves him! He gives him lots of crackers until you have to stop him. That seems to make you mad, but now Kalim’s sneaking the tiger various treats that are healthy for tigers. Or, at least, definitely won’t make him sick. 

You hate him, and Kalim... doesn’t get it. Until he goes to your balcony to take you on a carpet ride. For one reason or another, you decide to get onto the carpet, and it’s magical. Alone with only the sky and Kalim, as well as the carpet, it’s like a whole new world opens up. 

Afterward, Kalim notices you treating him differently, but he’s not upset about it. If anything, he’s happy to get your adventurous side. Prepare to give Jamil a heart attack as you take Kalim out to visit the town without warning or preparations. 

Kalim’s happy that he’s made a friend he can be himself around, without needing to worry about titles or politics. To him, you’re a friend for life. 

Jamil Viper - 

Jamil has mixed feelings for you. On one hand, you’re so wealthy that you seem to be wholly unaware of how the world works. But on the other? He is living for how you dislike Kalim. He’s never been so validated when he sees you roll your eyes or scoff, confirming that it’s not just him who finds him annoying. 

You’re still nobility, though, and the fact that you also depend on Jamil for many things doesn’t make him very happy. What do you mean, just buy a new phone? It’s just a scratch, the phone works fine. What do you mean, it’s not that expensive? WHY IS EVERYONE HE INTERACTS WITH LIKE THIS? 

Once you sneak out and Kalim makes him go to find you, though, Jamil is slightly more endeared to you. You may not know how the world works, but you clearly don’t want to be coddled, something he can appreciate, at the very least. 

He starts teaching you how to cook and various other small tasks. He continues to like you more and more as the days go on, trying your best and trying to help him. And you actually pay attention and learn! He likes you a lot by the end of the first year you spend here, enough to let you do his hair if you really want. 

Pomefiore: Snow White from Snow White 

Vil Schoenheit - 

Vil hates you more than Neige, somehow. He’s jealous, and this time, he can’t make some of it go away by saying that you just have a more attractive brand rather than that he just wasn’t prettier. 

Wherever he goes, you’re the one that draws attention. He doesn’t need to worry about too many fans asking for autographs, but that’s only because they want yours instead. Worried that you’ll be bullied when a dating rumor starts? He was, but then it does and he’s the one being told he’s not good enough. 

He ends up playing into it just because he wants to see what it’s like to date you he’s spiteful that his fans like you more than him. So, he’s going to play into it, then they’ll get used to it and he’ll get even more likes from you being in his photos. All of his problems get solved, easy. 

It isn’t until midway through his plan that he starts to like you. You are genuinely kind to him, so sweet and nice that he can’t help but feel some kind of affection for you. You’re a good person, and in the world of stars, that’s rare. Vil loves that kindness, and even if he’s still ungodly jealous no matter the circumstance, he’s much more forgiving of your lack of flaws when he knows that he’s fallen for it as much as your other fans. 

Rook Hunt - 

Oh, mon Dieu! Quelle beauté! You’re gorgeous to Rook, as much as Vil or Neige. Truly, the Monarque de son cœur. You have a kind heart as much as you have a kind soul, and it’s something Rook finds equally endearing as he does anyone else. 

Rook is well aware of the fact that you’re physically beautiful, as well. Often, he’ll come to you listing off every factor that he can about how gorgeous you are, just to let you know he appreciates it. 

Out of everyone, Rook encourages people to praise you the most. He’s not jealous of your looks or of others appreciating you, he’s simply in love with you and wants everyone to be just as in love. After all, the more people that love you, the more confidence Rook hopes you’ll gain, and that would truly be the best accessory for your joyous soul. 

Translations: (Done with Google Translate)

“Oh, mon Dieu! Quelle beauté!” - “Oh my God! What beauty!” 

“Monarque de son cœur” - “Monarch of his heart”

Epel Felmeir - 

Epel is mildly annoyed by your presence. You’re like everything Vil wants him to be. Feminine, sweet, soft-spoken, pretty, and whatever else. Everything that he doesn’t want to be. 

But then you bring him an apple pie. Well, bring is the wrong word. It implies you were there. You had a group of singing bluejays deliver him slices of a pie you stored in your home so Vil wouldn’t notice. And he kind of gets why Vil wants him to be like you. 

He doesn’t want to be like and he doesn’t dislike you for existing in the wrong space anymore. You’re your own person, and a very cute person at that. That just means that the manly thing to do is to take the sweeter person and protect them, right? So now Epel’s your protector, trying his best to make sure that you stay safe and be the best guardian that he can be. 

Ignihyde: Megara from Hercules 

Idia Shroud - 

Idia is afraid of you. At first, he thought you were like him. A comrade, one that was afraid of talking to people. And then he realized the truth... You didn’t fear people. You just didn’t like them. 

You were someone he couldn’t understand at all. Why wouldn’t you talk to people if you didn’t fear them? Why are you solo-leveling if you’ve got a great team? Are you secretly hiding some kind of special skill? Are you the final boss in disguise? 

But the damage was done. He... Had told Ortho in passing that he thought you might be like him. It was too late for his sanity; His brother’s insistence on keeping his social bar full had kicked in. How was he supposed to interact with you after such a wrong assumption? 

You were too snarky when he was gaming, too. What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t look that hard’?! Fine, then, you try! And while you’re at it, here’s his UID in every game he’s ever played! How you like it now, you’re just a level one newb and he’s- Oh the seven what has he done. Now you’ve got access to all his accounts. 

Please just let him crawl into a hole and die a peaceful death. That would be preferable to you bursting into his room to demand answers as to how these games work or for him to invite you into a higher-level dungeon so you can get more rewards. And you don’t just stand to the side and let him fight! At least then it would be a challenge with what characters he could use, but no! You’re in distress, but then you tell him to leave and ‘Have a nice day’ once he tries to save you from the monsters! Why are you like this... 

He does end up enjoying the time you spend with him, though. Once you two open up to each other, about your past lover’s and his brother’s deaths, he feels like he really has a friend. You can tell him that you owe him for getting you into games or for helping you out all you want, but to Idia, you’re the one that he owes. 

Ortho Shroud - 

Ortho loves you. Then again, Ortho loves most people. But especially you. You’re like another older sibling! 

Yes, you’re a bit rude and you seem to send Idia into a state of panic every time you enter the room, but that’s okay! Everyone has their flaws, and to Ortho, you’re just another option for a friend. And his big brother’s, at that! Did you know Idia could make friends on his own? He seemed to have all of these guesses about your personality, but that’s more interest than he shows most people, so at least you’re something with a pulse he can look at! 

He’s cheerful enough to break down your cold exterior. Not only is he a good person, but he’s also loyal and helpful, something you haven’t experienced in a long time. Give him a little while, and he might help bring your personality back to the kinder person you were before the world jaded you. Not in every way, of course, but as your self-appointed little brother, Ortho sure does try to bring you at least some joy. 

Diasonia: Briar Rose/Aurora from Sleeping Beauty 

Malleus Dracona - 

You’re quite the friend for Malleus, and he appreciates you very much. You’re kind and sweet, and you aren’t afraid of him in the slightest. No, more than anything, you seem happy to discuss fairytales with him. 

Malleus appreciates you falling asleep in front of him more than you realize, and more than he thought he would. It’s a form of trust to him. You trust that in your sleep, he won’t attack. He won’t hurt you or kidnap you. Considering the places you fall asleep in, he even sees it as you trusting him to protect you. He’s your guardian dragon now, and you’re never getting away from him. 

If given the chance, he will marry you, especially knowing how you always dreamed of living inside of a fairytale. He wants to make you an actual prince or princess if you give him the chance. That way, your childhood dream can come true, and his modern one can. 

Lilia Vanrouge - 

Lilia loves you. You’re just like Silver! Kind, sleepy, and lovely to everyone. He’s a bat dad at heart, and he’ll try to father you like a broody chicken would a rock. 

He likes to make you various outfits, mostly in pink or blue, or sometimes both, and also tries cooking for you. He doesn’t do very well, but once he almost manages to bake you a cake. It was half-baked and fell over after he tried to move it, but there was an attempt. 

He likes to tease you about how much you sleep, but he’s always willing to help you out. If you ever fall asleep at Diasonia, you’ll wake up with a pillow under your head and a blanket covering you. Even if he doesn’t say it, it’s obvious who left them once you start finding him cuddled up to you. 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Silver thinks that you’re an endearing person. After all, you’re willing to watch over him while he’s napping or nap with him. He’s even woken up to you making flower crowns for him and the various animals in the woods! It was very nice of you all. 

Expect stories from him. He loves to tell you stories, and then watch you laugh and smile with them. 

And you get along with the forest creatures! They stole his jacket once, and when he woke up and you were in a clearing, dancing and humming with them, he fell for you so hard. 

He’s happy that you’re willing to spend so much time with him even though he falls asleep so much. If you ever let him use you as a pillow, he’ll be eternally thankful. 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

Sebek does not like you. Not one bit. 

He already has Silver to deal with, and now you’re falling asleep, too! What is he to do, having to defend you two when you’re tired AND Malleus! 

But when you’re awake, he thinks that you’re fine. 

You’re curious, but that’s good because you’re also observant. A fine thing to have when you’re with a knight. 

Besides, you like listening to him talk about classic fae stories. You call them fairy tales, but you are more interested than most humans, and he gives you credit for recognizing how amazing the fae are. 

Ramshackle: Belle (Scrooge’s Previous Fiance) from A Christmas Carol  

Ghosts - 

The ghosts think you’re a wonderful person. 

You take care of things around the house, and you don’t mind the chills sometimes, or when they sneak up on you. 

They wish that you weren’t so used to living without much, but that’s okay. They can protect you now that you’re here. 

Telling them stories about your old world is lots of fun for them. After all, they don’t get out of Ramshackle dorm often. Hearing your love and subsequent tragedy is their new favorite story. 

Grim - 

Grim sees you like an older sibling figure. 

You’re sweet, and you don’t care for money, but rather just want to have a good time living with him in Twisted Wonderland. 

He finds your love of other people and kids annoying and takes it upon himself to become your protector of sorts. No one can break your heart again if he’s there to stop them! 

Speaking of heartbreak, if you tell him stories of your previous fiance, and how greedy he was, he’ll take it upon himself to give you a bit of his tune. You’re his henchmen, you should know that makes you better than all the other humans! He was stupid for not marrying you when he had the chance! 

[auroreliis]

Hey there, I hope I'm not spamming your blog too much

Also long ask ahead I'm sorry

I would actually enjoy the idea of Batfam with a reader who tried to impress them/ bond with them trough their hobbies

Normally it's only done in neglect fics(no hate to those I love them) and id love to see the reaction in a more fluffy scenwrio

Dick? Reader shows up to every single a acrobatics completion he takes and cheer for him the loudest , and one day come up to dick and show him they won first place in an acrobatics competitons turns out reader has been practicing in secret to impress dick

Jason? Reader constantly exchanges books with recommendations with him, and pays full attention when they rant about how good/bad a book is, one day reader shily approaches him and offers him a book they wrote and published themselves

Cass?(Warning I know nothing about ballet) Reader always tries to get her tickets to shows she's interested in, and even gets her meet and greets/autograph with her favorite dancers, one day reader offer her a single ticket for a new shows , with the excuse that they could only get that, and turns out that reader is actually the main dancer in the show

And obviously with Damian reader is often with him when he paint, and if damian feels like talking, they ask him about what methods he's using and what "vision" he has for his painting, eventually reader ask him to judge their paintings.

(im skipping Steph and Tim, because

The ask is getting too long and because with Tim, his hobby is genuinely investigating mysteries, so that'd s bit complicated since it's mostly vigilante related work,and I don't remember if Steph has a Really specific hobbie that reader can try, she's would just be happy to spend time with them)

Hey! No worries about spamming :)

If you're trying hard to get along with them, then they get very excited and that leads to fluffy scenarios!

Dick would love to do acrobatics with you and he would make for a great mentor. Usually, Dick is known for being annoying, but this is only when you don't engage enough with him. However, when you do engage with him, he becomes a regular, affectionate older brother.

After you finish your daily acrobatic training, he usually carries you to your room and brings you whatever you want. Water? Of course, right away! Food? Alfred's already making it! You want him to put a film on? Yes, hopefully you don't mind him watching it too :)

Jason adores the fact that you like his recommendations when it comes to books. It's not that nobody else in the manor thinks his suggestions are good, it's just that he most values your opinion.

His favourite moments are when you and him are sitting in the library during the evening, drinking hot chocolate and reading books. Neither of you are talking, but the silence is comfortable. Sometimes, he stop reading to look over at you, but you don't notice, because you're so immersed in the story. He probably looks for more books to recommend to you, intending to sit in the library in silence again.

Tim has many hobbies and many hobbies that you are unable to take part in. However, Tim makes it quite easy to spend time with him. For example, watching films with him is something he suggests often. Somehow, Tim always know what you want to do without needing to hear you say it, so if a new show came out, he immediately runs to you and asks if you want to binge it with him.

Watching shows isn't the only thing you two do, though. Tim also enjoys talking to you about anything. You have a new hyperfixation? Tim is the FIRST person you have to tell, because he probably also has the same hyperfixation lol. Somehow, the two of you resonate on every possible level and that makes any mundane activity entertaining if both of you are present.

Stephanie didn't know what to say when you asked her to play the piano for you, but she couldn't just refuse, so she played for you. You can imagine her delight when you asked her to teach you how to play. It takes a while to learn to play the piano, but that just means she gets to spend more time with you :)

Cassandra is delighted to hear that you like ballet as much as she does. She would practice ballet with you and plan choreographies to challenge you a bit. Whenever a show worth watching came up, she would be the first to buy tickets for the two of you.

Much like with Jason, Cassandra is also comfortable with sitting in silence. She doesn't need to have a conversation with you to feel seen by you, just being in the same room is enough for her.

Painting with Damian has become a regular afternoon activity for you, though by "painting with", I mean "getting painted by", because as much as Damian believes in your ability to make great paintings, he sees something in you that makes you the perfect muse. Whenever he paints you, his paintings end up being brighter, they make his other paintings look bleak in comparison.

He finds himself adding some of your charm to other paintings. Whenever he paints a landscape, it looks empty without your favourite flowers in the field. If he paints a room in the manor, he adds some of your objects, perhaps your sweater is hanging over a chair in the corner, or your headphones are on the table in the living room. Now he is unsatisfied with every painting that doesn't have a hint of your presence in it.

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.

[neo-nomatrix]

10 Things I hate about you

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 1120

(My) Nuisance masterlist

Synopsis: You have hated your neighbor for one year, 3 months, and 8 days. You hate his hair, his boots, his obnoxious music, and most of all you hate the way you love him

a/n; This is the last part of the main (My) Nuisance story! Other installments will be on parters about reader and Hobie before and after the main plot. Thank you to everyone who loves this story it means the world to me!

Being neighbors with Hobie has been one of the most frustrating, exhausting, and confusing experiences of your life. He has truly put you through hell and back.

1. I hate the way you talk to me and the way you do your hair.

If someone had told you one year ago you would be completely head of heels for Hobie you most likely would have laughed in their face. If someone had told you he was the man under Spider-punk's mask you would have jumped off a bridge right then and there. Yet here you are, searching your brain for answers about Hobie and his feelings wondering what you got yourself into.

2. I hate the way you lie to me and your stupid boot buckles.

The unbearable truth was, Hobie got to you. Most importantly he hurt you in the process. You weren’t supposed to get close to him, you weren’t supposed to fall in love with him but you did. He had completely forgotten about the night before and it hurt you more than anything. You genuinely thought he liked you, as luck would have it he confessed to you that he was a compulsive liar when he drank too much. Leading you into realizing he didn’t mean it, why would he? He seemed like the type who would flirt with you just as a fun game, you didn’t know what you were expecting.

3. I hate you so much it makes me mad, it makes my head spin, my stomach ties into knots, makes me weak in the legs.

Was that what this was? A sick joke? A game to him? Just thinking about that made you want to scream at him. Yell at him, tell him how angry you were with the fact that he played with your feelings. You wanted to scream at him and give him a piece of your mind. Yet you couldn’t. You have always been able to yell at Hobie, always. Even over dumb things like the way he talked. But now, it’s different. You wanted to get up and yell at him but you stayed sitting on the ground. Legs to your chest and you just sat there. Unable to move, frozen in that position.

4. I hate it when you’re out all night drinking and the way it makes me worry, worry so much that I stay up all night waiting to hear your stupid boots.

You hear a knock at the door and know it’s him. Of course it’s him, in your time living here he was the only person to ever knock on your door.

“Love? I- I want to talk to you. Can you let me in?” He asked, his voice quiet.

5. I hate your stupid smile and the way you purposefully play your guitar too loud just so i’ll come over.

He takes your silence as an answer, he’s about to say something and then pauses.

“When you were in my room you found a box. It had your stuff in it and a letter. I wrote the letter for you. You deserve to read it. I have your necklace and ring too, sorry bout that,” he gave you an awkward laugh.

“No, I shouldn't have even known about it,” you’re surprised you could even speak to him, “I don’t want to read it either,” you say quickly.

“You have a right to know what it says, okay? At least let me tell you.”

6. I hate that you were so easy to fall in love with.

A few seconds after he finished talking he turned the doorknob and walked into your flat.

“I don’t know what I said to you last night but I'm sorry. Whatever-“ you cut him off before he can finish.

“Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it so don’t. It doesn’t matter now I'm over it,” you brush him off.

“So uhm, what did i say exactly?” He questions

“I said it doesn’t matter, piss off!” you snap.

You both look away from each other, unable to speak.

7. I hate the way you hurt me and the way you made me get close to you. It would be so much easier to despise you if you weren’t so handsome.

“The letter talks about how much I love you, alright? Ever since the day we met and you gave me that stupid note I have been in love with you. You really don’t see the way I look at you? Or- or how I'm extra loud when I know you're trying to sleep? I would do anything just to look at you, that is how in love I am with you. I don’t know if you’re really just clueless or you’re trying to ignore the signs but I am pulling every string to try and make you fall in love with me. Is that what you want to hear?” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes. Tears are brewing in the corner of his eye.

8. I hate it when you say exactly what I want you to say.

“Yeah, actually it kind of is. You told me that it hurt when I didn't show up for our date. I thought you did like me, but then you said you lied when you were drunk. And I don't know why but I believed you,” You confess.

9. I hate it when we don’t talk and the way you make me feel. I hate that I didn't understand those stomach knots were me falling in love.

“No no no, I thought I said something that would upset you. Of course I meant that, Love,” he said, holding your face in his hands. The cold metal of his rings touching you.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else,” he smiles. God that stupid smile.

“You also, kind of told me something else. You said you were uhm, Spiderman?” you nervously asked.

He visibly tensed up.

“Oh that, well I guess there’s no point in lying huh?”

“So you are?”

“Yeah, for the last three years. But I don’t believe in labels, they’re stupid,” he shrugs

“That’s pretty embarrassing for me then, hm?” you look around your spiderman themed room.

“Nah, I think it’s pretty cute,” he says, making you blush.

“Why don’t we start over? We can go out on a proper date, forget any of this happened. I promise, no standing each other up and we’ll be so happy,” He says, grinning ear to ear.

“Alright then, where should we go?”

10. You especially hate the way you don’t hate him at all. You don’t like him either. You love him. You’re in love with Hobie Brown, your nuisance.

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*If your user wasn’t tagged and showed up as just text it’s because you have something changed in settings

[dolliels]

I'VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?!

leona x gn reader

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: this is a mini series. no idea if i'll finish it tho.

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

the whirring of the fan was the only other sound that you could other than your nail tapping on your phone. 

it’s been a full day now and you’ve done nothing except lie on your couch and read a horribly self indulgent novel. the weather was too hot and the chewed up popsicle stick flung around in your mouth.

I’ve become the fiancé of a villain?! was an all-time hit novel, written by an anonymous writer. you’ve heard about it and the plot clearly interested you, but there were only 5 chapters when you discovered it so you let it marinate for a while. today you found out it was completed, so you sat down and spent your entire day reading.

much to your disappointment, the story sucked.

it was about the main character, roselia, who fell asleep in the middle of class and woke up in the middle of a fantasy world that she wrote when she was bored!

leona kingscholar, a jealous second-born son who wanted to be king more than anything, devises a plan to kill his older brother. fortunately, roselia wrote the story so she knew leona like the back of her hand. unfortunately, she was the betrothed fiancé of leona, someone he took advantage of to execute his plan. when she found out about his goal of murdering the king, the fiance tried to warn everyone and leona finds out, killing her. the novel focused on roselia trying her best to not get murdered and falling in love with leona in the process.

it wasn’t like the idea was bad, you’ve read thousands of stories like that before and enjoyed them all. it’s just that this one was incredibly self-indulgent, with leona’s cold, merciless eyes that turn into metaphorical hues of warmth when he sees the girl he used to hate, the girl he was reluctantly betrothed to, the girl who is now the woman of his dreams. (you almost threw up reading that)

how was this novel even popular? with plans to complain about it tomorrow, you passed out on your bed.

birds chirped and you soaked in the warmth of the sun. you felt incredibly gross and dirty that morning, and wanted to freshen up. heading to the bathroom, you tumbled your way to the door (was the floor always this slippery?) as you groggily looked into the mirror, you saw yourself………..? huh? is that you? wait no, you don’t look like that…. what?!

after much looking around, you figured that this wasn’t your body (obviously) but you were you, and the body you were in definitely wasn’t what you remembered looking like the other night. you examined your face carefully, you frowned. what is this? some sort of isekai? it has to be. but that sounds completely unreal! aren’t isekai’s…fake? you felt way too overpowered knowing what an isekai even is in the first place. most leads in these novels don’t know what the word means at all. you felt too advantaged.

what crazy novel were you reading…?

you frowned until an imaginary light bulb popped up.

i’ve become the fiancé of the villain!

does that mean you’re roselia…?

no, that couldn’t be right. roselia woke up in a grand but empty bedroom that she shared with leona. you… woke up in a boring commoner’s room.

you looked around your messy bedroom, trying to gather any hints of who you are and what you do.

after rummaging through the entire house, you concluded three things.

1. you ran a small bookstore. which is honestly a win because you’ve always wanted to run one without financially skinning you alive. you seem to be stable so that’s a pro in your head.

2. you were just some character extra that didn’t matter to the plot.

3. you were assigned to stock up some books for the royal library. the kingscholar royal library.

from reading the novel, you knew leona did nothing but stay in the castle all day. that gives you a glimmer of hope that you’d see roselia.

the things, there are two possibilities as to where the story is going.

the first possibility is that the roselia in this universe is the roselia that you read in the novel. which is more likely, because it is the story that you read.

the second possibility is that this may be the original story and you might be the only person in this whole story that has been isekai’d. which means leona would kill her eventually.

either way, you had a strong feeling that roselia was the key for you to get back home. and that was the only thing that was on your mind right now. and no, you are not going to be like those other leads that just settle for a life in another universe that does not belong to them. you are determined to go back.

on that fateful morning you luckily packed the boxes of books the day before, or any other day, you can’t recall anything in your current self. but the person who held consciousness of this body already packed the books, which means you should be able to just drive your cart to the castle. the castle is huge and you can see from your window. there should be no problem getting the, right?

-

“…you’re late.”

you huff and puff as you bend your knees. you got lost as to where to go and ended up carrying the boxes of books yourself around the place before finding the area.

“i’m sorry. i got lost.”

“lost? you’re never lost. you’ve been here plenty of times.”

you had no excuse for that. but whatever, you got the job done, right?

the man with neat blue hair clicked his tongue and scratched something off of his paper.

“well?” he said, staring you down.

“well what?”

“aren’t you gonna go bring the books inside?”

oh, right.

-

you weren’t a huge bookworm, unless you count the copious amounts of isekai novels you’ve read. but looking at the glamorous library, it suddenly made you thirst for all books that exists, even the classics, something you’ve tried to enjoy but struggled to fully digest. hey, don’t blame anyone! thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat aren’t the best ways to use english in the modern world.

as you stack the books into the shelves, you find yourself browsing through the already existing books, browsing your fingers across the spines, feeling each and every gold brim.

maybe this world isn’t as bad.

you were originally under the assumption that you had to just drop off the books and go, but you soon found out that you’re also responsible for the library archive, not like you needed to keep track anyway.

you sighed and smiled. so a small bookstore wasn’t enough to hold you up financially after all. you ended up getting a side in the royal palace of all places! the pay must be pretty good.

you know… as you think back, you remember roselia coming into the library, attempting to find any other information of escape and accidentally bumping into the book stocker… could that possibly be you?

then that means roselia is bound to bump into you any moment!

as you eagerly keep your eye out for the pretty princess, you take your time putting the books away. there should be no problem how long you take, right?

“hey.”

roselia? no. the voice is gruff, and deep. that… no. roselia is definitely a girl… so that is not the lady you are waiting for.

you turn around.

leona kingscholar. 

he’s exactly as he’s described. the novel mentions leona’s good looks so much it was practically shoved in your face. but you felt like the words itself couldn’t properly describe his beauty.

he had the kind of hair that gently parts around his shoulders, comfortably setting itself down on top, a sleek, shiny glow to it that is only prominent and glittery at certain angles of the sun, making you want to stare at his hair alone even more.

his skin was smooth, almost doll-like with little to absolutely no imperfections. it scrunched up perfectly, creating deliberate folds across his face as his eyebrows pursed together, frowning. his emerald-esque eyes staring directly at you. he looked like the kind of guy you’d want to make a good impression to.

unfortunately, you don’t look like you’re doing your job, with a book open and a box full of them that haven’t been organized yet, and your mouth… was agape. it seems like you forgot that you are actually in the universe, looking directly at what you deemed to be the handsomest man you have ever met.

you seemed to thank the skies and above for gracing you with an opportunity to be able to place your eyes on someone so perfect that your brain completely lagged.

you had to remind yourself, leona is not real! and you won’t ever see his kind of beauty anywhere in the real world. he’s a fictional character!

suddenly, you felt like you were pulled back into reality.

oh right, in the novel, leona is actually a huge dick in the novel!

before leona fell in love with roselia, he was demanding, lazy and scheming. he was smart, and used his wits for his own gain (ultimately leading to roselia and his brother’s demise in the original story.)

speaking of, where is roselia?

you distinctly remember that roselia was supposed to bump into you and then afterwards leona walks in on her.

it seemed as if the story was going as planned, but without roselia.

“well?” the same voice caught you alert again, and you remembered that you had to act like a normal person.

“oh. uh. hello…?”

you didn’t know what to say. you spent the entirety of the day before in your world reading about him, his backstory and everything else that talking to him as if he’s a treasure box to be unlocked was surreal.

“hello? hello??” leona scoffed. “first, you’re not doing your job properly, snooping around the royal collection and no etiquette remaining at all.”

you bowed down, trying to look as shameful as possible. there was no hierarchical respect for him lingering at all. you assume this is because you saw him as a fictional character first and foremost.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“psh.” he replied, waving his hand back. “hurry up. I’ll come back later.”

you snickered to yourself as leona walked away. the clacking of his fancy shoes on the glass floors echoing throughout the library. when you snorted, you heard the walking pause then continue again, as if leona heard the laugh but wasn’t bothered enough to say anything.

-

you sat in your chair, frowning, your elbow propped up against the table under your chin.

it has been nearly a week since you woke up in this world so far, and you haven’t seen roselia anywhere.

of course, roselia being a princess after all, rarely ever left the palace, but in the novel, the new roselia went out and about in many places.

after you were able to catch up to the timeline when leona walked into the library, you tried to follow your memory as much as possible and wasted your time lurking in places roselia should’ve been at.

could this possibly not be the novel you read after all? maybe… this roselia isn’t the roselia you know.

you shake your head. your hopes were diminishing, but it wasn’t like there was no hope at all!

plus, the bookstore you ran had minimal conversations, people would browse through and purchase. this meant you had all the time in the world to try and figure out other alternatives.

cling

the bell of the door clang a few times before quieting down. the array of bookshelves blocked your few from seeing whoever entered, but you could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the ground outside when the door opened. you hoped they didn’t get anything wet.

“welcome!”

no reply.

you shrugged and went back to scribbling down on your paper.

stomp, stomp, stomp

you looked up. something was oddly out of place.

holding the nearest weapon you had (a paper cutter, ridiculous.) you slowly got out of your seat in between the many shelves of your bookstore.

the paper cutter firmly between your hands, you pointed it out just in case.

“who’s… who’s in here?”

no reply.

stomp, stomp, stomp

“I said… who’s in here?”

no reply, but you heard an annoyed grunt.

BOOM!

just as the thunders outside clashed, you finally reached the last shelf to see a figure entirely hidden by the lightning.

as it died down, you saw the trail of blood on the floor under your soft yellow lights and an injured man who stood right in front of you.

before you could react, the man completely slumped to the ground, giving you an opportunity to safely approach him.

you lifted the familiar locks of chocolatey brown hair to see… leona kingscholar. bloodied, injured and unconscious.

TO BE CONTINUED...

an: lowkey really got into the story rather than the romance... oops. if this fic receives well i'll focus on romance on the next part :)

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [1]

Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Father, mother, we're back!" called out Haeun, your eldest sister who had been married for years now, returning home with her husband and children to celebrate the birth of your middle brother's first child.

"You're home, our dear daughter!" Your parents enthusiastically rose from their seats to greet her, showering her with praise for leading such a successful life, whatever that meant; it was a concept you still struggled to comprehend to this day.

After exchanging pleasantries with your parents, she made a beeline for your brother, completely disregarding your timid presence in the corner of the room, "Hajoon-ah, congratulations, my brother! It's high time you joined the parent club!"

Your brother-in-law, displaying a touch more consideration than his wife, offered you a warm smile before joining 'the adults' in conversation, leaving you to quietly observe your nieces and nephews playing joyfully in the courtyard. At times, you were envious of the simplicity of children's lives—so carefree, with no expectations weighing them down. Unlike them, you felt constantly burdened by the expectations placed upon you.

This had been the pattern for as long as you could recall—living in the shadows of your successful sister and brother, both excelling in nearly every aspect of life. Haeun, intelligent and outgoing, had swiftly found a suitable match upon reaching marriageable age, becoming the epitome of a perfect daughter in your parents' eyes. Hajoon wasn't far behind, securing a position in the local government and dutifully marrying the girl your parents had chosen for him.

And then there was you.

The black sheep of the Baek household, the peculiar one, always kept to yourself, showing little interest in feminine pursuits such as cooking, gardening, embroidering, or any similar activities. Your days were spent predominantly at home, frequenting your father's extensive library and immersing yourself in the countless storybooks it housed, often seeking solace in the realms of fantasy they offered. Your lack of enthusiasm for conventional interests rendered you an enigma even to your parents.

You maintained scant friendships, lacking any love interests or potential marriage prospects. Unlike other young women, you harboured no desire to adorn yourself or enhance your appearance; you appeared strangely content in your plain white hanboks and minimal hair accessories. Your demeanour led most people to forget the existence of a third daughter in the Baek family altogether. Those who did recall you were hesitant to consider you as a potential match for their sons, and the young men themselves showed no interest.

While your parents had initially held onto hope that you would eventually find your own path to settling down, their concerns began to mount as you surpassed the ideal age for marriage. Beyond mere age considerations, most young women your age were already married with children, leaving you perpetually single.

Though you concealed it well, you weren't oblivious to the whispers and rumours circulating about you already being labelled a spinster. The servants of your family estate often used you as a topic for gossip and entertainment, speculating whether you would ever find a spouse and placing bets on your marital prospects.

Finally deciding to acknowledge your presence, Haeun heaved a sigh before addressing you, "And how have you been, maknae? Will I be hearing news of you getting hitched any time soon?"

Glancing at her, you simply shrugged and shook your head, "Same old, unnie. And no, I don't think you will."

Hajoon frowned in resignation at your customary bluntness, "With that attitude, definitely not. Do you even have any intention of settling down? What are your plans for the future, hm? Are you going to keep causing our parents to worry like this?"

Your mother shook her head, silently urging him to be gentler with you, a twinge of sympathy stirring within her. In your younger years, her favouritism was evident in the way she showered attention primarily to your sister and brother, especially since your father was often away for work. While your siblings made efforts to bond with him during his brief returns, you showed little interest. Consequently, your relationship with your parents wasn't as close-knit as theirs.

It wasn't until Haeun had married and left home that your mother attempted to show you some affection, though by then, it seemed too late to truly connect with you. Despite her earnest efforts, she struggled to understand you. The rest of the family faced similar difficulties. You remained a mystery to everyone, always lost in your own world.

For once, instead of reacting with anger or responding passive-aggressively out of frustration, your sister nodded slowly, as if making a concerted effort to remain patient with you. Despite her occasional harshness towards you, she hadn't always been unkind. As your only elder sister, she had tried to foster a bond with you throughout your childhood, but your reserved nature made it difficult, and your straightforwardness often unintentionally wounded her.

Deep down, she harboured a hope that her harshness might somehow elicit some sort of response from you. But by now, she had come to realise its futility, as you consistently maintained an unbothered demeanour, regardless of what others would say or do to you. Ultimately, she grew tired of attempting to decipher your mind and heart. The same goes for your brother.

However, despite their frustrations, you were still their youngest sibling, and they sincerely hoped that you would one day settle down, have someone care for you, and perhaps start a family of your own.

"I think I know what might help," Haeun began, capturing everyone's attention before continuing, "I've heard about a renowned dressmaker in town who has worked wonders for countless women. If I'm not mistaken, his craftsmanship has even garnered recognition from the King and Queen. I was just thinking... maybe all our youngest needs is just a little makeover?"

Your father's eyes widened in astonishment, "His work is recognised even by His and Her Majesty, you say?"

Haeun nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, father! I couldn't believe it myself, but it's true. He's the mastermind behind Lady Park's stunning white and gold wedding hanbok!"

"He must be truly exceptional! Well, then, it seems worth a try. Perhaps this is just what our youngest needs to catch the eye of a potential suitor," your mother chimed in, her gaze hopeful as she turned to you, "Are you on board with the idea, dear?"

All eyes swivelled to you, and you once again felt yourself shrinking under their scrutiny—this familiar sensation of never being enough for them. The truth was evident: they were all tired of you. You had been a disappointment your entire life. If all they desired was for you to marry and depart from the household, perhaps it would be best to acquiesce to their wishes. It wouldn't hurt to entertain their request.

With another indifferent shrug, you replied, "Sure, if that's what everyone wants. After all, I don't have much to lose."

For the first time in forever, your family's faces lit up with smiles because of you, cheered by your response. As you retreated to your quarters that night, your sister eagerly taking charge of contacting the renowned dressmaker they had discussed, you pondered whether their enthusiasm stemmed from a desire to see you gone.

In truth, your parents' neglect and blatant favouritism toward your siblings over you during your childhood had moulded you into someone who wore indifference as armour, a coping mechanism to shield yourself from the constant sadness you felt. The weight of constantly letting everyone down had driven you to suppress your emotions, opting instead to feign apathy. Eventually, this façade became your reality; it felt safer to shut yourself off from feeling anything at all.

As you attempted to drift off to sleep that night, thoughts of the acclaimed dressmaker they had been praising occupied your mind. You couldn't help but entertain the idea that, like everyone else, he too would eventually grow weary of you. Surely, upon seeing you, he would deem you a lost cause.

Heh, at least he'll be paid to deal with me.

"Thanks a bunch, hyung. I promise I'll treat you to the finest meal once this is over!" Wooyoung exclaimed, hugging the disguise crafted by the dressmaker at the eleventh hour for his latest case—more like a mission to play knight in shining armour, one that might finally win him the affections of a girl, unlike the silly crush he harboured for Lady Park, leading absolutely nowhere.

With a shake of his head, Hongjoong gave the younger man's shoulder a reassuring pat, "Yeah, you better. Off you go then, you don't want to keep her waiting a moment longer now, do you?"

"Yes, sir!" The private investigator saluted playfully before setting off in pursuit of his new dream girl.

Once he was out of sight, the dressmaker returned to his shop, settling comfortably back into his seat, ready to resume work on his latest batch of orders. His fingers moved with practised ease, guided by the rough design sketch before him. A faint smile lingered on his lips as he worked, a swell of pride warming his chest at his friend's development. It wasn't just Wooyoung; everyone had left the general's estate weeks ago, returning to their own lives. While part of him missed the chaos of their shared moments, he was content to give the newlyweds their well-deserved privacy.

Still chuckling to himself, he reflected on the fact that the once-intimidating Park Seonghwa was now but a lovesick fool. He had once worried about the general's prospects for finding love, but now he realised it had been a needless concern. Who would have thought that General Park would find love before him, or even before the ever-charming Jung Yunho?

As he put the final touches on one of his dresses, he couldn't help but wonder how the couple was doing. It had been weeks since he last saw them, and he shook his head when he recalled how 'excited' his friend had been, even when he was injured. Now that they had all the time in the world together, he imagined Seonghwa would struggle to keep his hands off his wife. He pondered whether he would soon hear news of a new addition to their family.

Before he could become further engrossed in his thoughts, his sharp senses alerted him to the presence of a man and a woman entering his shop. Without hesitation, he plastered on his best business smile—a façade rarely seen by his friends, perhaps except for Lady Park. It was part of his practised persona, an outwardly amiable demeanour he employed to win over customers and potential clients, doing whatever was necessary to secure their business. This isn't to say he wasn't genuinely pleased, but his true passion lay in designing and dressmaking rather than customer service. Unfortunately, the latter was an essential aspect of his job.

Hongjoong had never been naturally a people person, but as he had previously made it clear to the general, he was reluctant to hire assistance for such a simple task. So here he was, stuck with doing his least favourite part of the job: greeting customers.

"Good day, sir and ma'am! Welcome to Kim's Dress Shop. May I inquire what you are searching for today? A hanbok for a special occasion, perhaps? That happens to be one of my specialities. However, if you're seeking an upgrade in everyday attire, I also offer a selection of simpler yet elegant designs," he recited, sticking to his customary script upon each patron's arrival.

The couple glanced around in amazement before eagerly beaming at him. The woman spoke, "Um, are you the renowned dressmaker Kim who crafted Lady Park's famous wedding gown?"

Grinning proudly, the dressmaker was pleased to once again be acknowledged for his recent accomplishments, "Indeed, that would be me," he confirmed. He couldn't deny that his orders had doubled since news of the iconic hanbok he had designed for his friend's wedding had spread. Perhaps he owed Seonghwa a debt of gratitude for hiring him. Without him, Hongjoong might not have achieved the level of success he enjoys today.

Stepping forward, the woman bowed respectfully, "It's truly an honour to meet you, Mr. Kim! You see, we are interested in engaging your services, but it's not for myself—it's for my younger sister."

"Oh? Will she be coming by soon for me to take her measurements and discuss her design preferences?" he inquired, surprised that the intended recipient of his hanboks was not present.

Shaking her head sheepishly, she clarified, "Unfortunately not. Forgive me for not starting with a self-introduction. Good day, Mr. Kim. I am the eldest daughter of the Baek household, and I'm here on behalf of our youngest."

Upon hearing this, Hongjoong immediately grasped the situation. Having worked extensively with noblewomen, he was well-versed in local gossip about nearby noble families. He had heard of the mysterious third daughter of Official Baek from the local Civilian Office, who rarely ventured outside her home—a well-known wallflower who, if he wasn't mistaken, remained unmarried despite being well past the ideal marriageable age.

With a nod, he smiled warmly, "Ah, Miss Baek! Or should I say, Mrs. Heo," the dressmaker corrected with a grin directed at the man beside her, presumably her husband, "It would be my pleasure to create hanboks for the youngest miss of such a prominent family. I assume that means I will need to visit the Baek estate to meet her."

The couple nodded with a slight grimace, "Yes, I'm sure you're aware of her reputation. Whatever rumours you may have heard are true. She remains single, and our entire family is deeply concerned for her. We've heard of the wonderful work you've done for others, and we were hopeful you could work your magic on her. My sister has always been a unique individual. I apologise for the inconvenience of asking you to leave your shop just for her. However, I assure you we will compensate you for any inconvenience."

As he listened to her plea, the dressmaker's mind raced with excitement. That was because no challenge was too daunting for him; he thrived on the opportunity to showcase his talent. The woman was right in what she said; he had indeed helped numerous single young women find matches after they had worn his designs.

This time would be no different.

What truly fueled his enthusiasm was the knowledge that the youngest Miss Baek was known to repel potential suitors, making her a particularly challenging case. If he could help her in finding a match, it would undoubtedly bolster his reputation, adding another significant achievement to his already impressive portfolio.

Moreover, the Baeks were one of the wealthiest noble families in the area. It would be foolish not to accept this job, even if it meant temporarily closing his shop more frequently to visit their estate. He was certain that the compensation he would receive for his services would more than make up for any inconvenience.

With a feigned understanding expression, he nodded, "Oh, please don't worry about it, Mrs. Heo. Nothing brings me greater joy than helping young women gain confidence and find love. Miss Baek clearly needs my assistance. If it means I can help one more woman escape singledom, any inconvenience will be worth it."

The couple cooed at his kindness, profusely thanking him for his selflessness, while he celebrated internally, eager for the opportunity to make that buck. Reassuringly, he welcomed them into his shop, offering them seats and some tea as they made the necessary arrangements for the special job: determining which days he would need to close his shop and visit the Baek estate as well as negotiating the payment. Fortunately for him, they had even provided a down payment to demonstrate their sincerity.

After a lengthy discussion that may or may not have interfered with his current orders, Hongjoong happily bid the couple goodbye. He couldn't care less about any disruptions; his pockets were full, and he was content. With the success of the business that Seonghwa had brought him, he was sure that this would be his next most satisfying endeavour. As he watched the couple leave, a sense of anticipation washed over him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you, Miss Baek, for this wonderful opportunity. I'm certain we'll get along just fine, you and I. Gosh, I just love it when rich people are gullible, and money is easy to make," he muttered to himself, brimming with excitement for what lay ahead.

Oh, I'm going to have the time of my life.

Perhaps the dressmaker might have spoken too soon, been a tad overconfident in his abilities, and underestimated the true enigmatic nature of the youngest Miss Baek. He would soon discover this the hard way during his very first visit to the family's estate, which was nearly as large as the general's, albeit slightly smaller.

He remained confident and pleased as he was warmly welcomed, not only by the couple he had met at his shop the other day, but also by Official Baek and his wife, Lady Baek, along with their middle son and his new wife—everyone except for the one he was hired to make clothes for. The youngest Miss Baek was nowhere to be seen.

Nevertheless, he refused to let it dampen his spirits. If anything, it only heightened his curiosity about you. He was eager to finally lay eyes on the girl whom so many noble families and men tried to avoid.

The more your family emphasised how hopeless you were and expressed their concern about you remaining a spinster, the more determined he became. His fingers were itching to work another miracle. No ugly duckling could remain ugly forever, especially not if he could help it.

"We're terribly sorry our youngest is not here to greet you, Mr. Kim! We specifically informed her that you would be arriving by this time. She must still be holed up in her father's library. We'll fetch her immediately!" Lady Baek exclaimed, her urgency and embarrassment evident in her tone.

Hongjoong shook his head, waving his hands to signal that it was fine, despite feeling a slight disbelief at your apparent disregard for his presence. He tried his best to play the role of a considerate man, reminding himself that it was your family who wanted him here, not you. He tried to be understanding of how you might be feeling, "It's quite alright. Perhaps I could go meet her in the library if she doesn't want to come outside."

"Oh, is that really alright? You've come all this way, Mr. Kim. The least she could do now is come to you and make your job easier," Official Baek remarked with a slight wince.

"I assure you, it's perfectly fine. My task today is simply to take Miss Baek's measurements and discuss her design preferences. For that to happen smoothly, it's important she feels comfortable. Conducting it in her own space might be the best approach for all of us," he responded.

Your brother nodded, "If you insist, Mr. Kim. We'll have the maids escort you there. Let us know if there's anything you need."

Hongjoong bowed, "Thank you, sir. I will."

"We entrust her to you, Mr. Kim," said your sister, her hands clasped together to show her gratitude and hopefulness.

"Please do not worry, Mrs. Heo. I have a feeling Miss Baek will find love in no time."

"We're counting on it."

As a few maids escorted him towards the library as instructed, the dressmaker's mind buzzed with speculative thoughts. Considering all the talk about Miss Baek's perpetual singleness, he couldn't help but imagine you to be hideous. If that were indeed the case, he surmised it might stem from low self-esteem.

Throughout his career, he has developed a knack for identifying his customers' underlying issues. Just as he had done with Seonghwa's wife, he could often discern precisely what they needed, whether it be a boost in confidence or a transformation in appearance. He was almost certain he'd be able to figure you out in an instant.

Upon arriving at the destination, one of the maids spoke up, "We're here, Mr. Kim. You should be able to find the young miss somewhere inside. Just call out to any of us if you require anything at all."

Hongjoong nodded, expressing his gratitude, "Of course, thank you," he replied before heading inside. His heart quickened for some reason as he stepped into the room, uncertain of what to expect.

Taking a cautious step after gently closing the door behind him, he called out softly, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquil atmosphere of the silent and peaceful library, "Miss Baek...? Sorry for the intrusion, but this is Kim Hongjoong, the dressmaker your family hired to provide you with a new wardrobe. If you would be so kind as to come out, we could proceed with the initial stages of the dressmaking process for you."

Releasing a small sigh at the continued silence, he called out again, "Miss Baek...? If you won't respond, I'll have to enter."

While he understood your potential shyness, he struggled to contain his displeasure at what felt like disrespect towards him. After all, he had made the effort to come all this way and even prioritised your comfort. Yet here you were, still playing hard to get.

"Very well, don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, he began to make his way down the aisle, scanning the spacious room from left to right in search of you. It was only when he was about to pass by a hunched figure between the rows of tall bookshelves that he halted, doing a double take before fixing his gaze squarely on your form. There you were, seated on the ground, completely absorbed in the book you held in your hands.

Whatever he had anticipated, you were none of that. The girl in front of him was nothing like what he had imagined. Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the open window, your delicate and refined features were illuminated, accentuating your natural beauty. In that moment, you appeared almost ethereal. With such looks, finding a match shouldn't be a challenge at all.

Huh, guess I was wrong about her looks.

Yet, it wasn't your appearance that posed the issue. He had expected as much, considering the attractiveness of your family members. However, he could understand why you were often overlooked. The problem lay not in your physical attributes, but rather in that god-awful attire you chose to wear – a plain, white hanbok devoid of any embellishments. Furthermore, you seemed to lack hair accessories and makeup. He dared say that even some of the maids had put more effort into their appearance than you had.

Goodness gracious, you looked like a prisoner in that outfit. In his opinion, you ought to be arrested for donning such a monstrosity. Perhaps you weren't aware yet, but today you would be encountering the fashion police, and he was not pleased with what he saw. It was evident to him that you were in dire need of his assistance.

Kim Hongjoong was here now, and he intended to effect swift change. By the end of his makeover, he was confident you would be fit to enter even a beauty pageant.

"Hello, Miss Baek," he greeted, finally drawing your attention as you glanced up to see him approaching.

"Oh, you're here. Mr. Kim, right?" you responded, acknowledging him with a nod. Folding the edge of the page as a makeshift bookmark, you carefully slid the book back into its place on the shelf before rising from your spot on the ground.

The dressmaker's grip tightened around his bag of tools, a hint of displeasure flickering behind his façade of a smile, "Yes, that's correct, my lady. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard much about you," he attempted to charm you, a tactic that typically worked wonders with his clientele, eliciting blushes and smiles. However, his heart sank as you remained unfazed.

"Did you really? I can't imagine it's anything favourable," you murmured, turning to face him squarely, "And there's no need for pretence. I highly doubt there's anything pleasurable about meeting me. I prefer unvarnished truths to false pleasantries."

What in the world.

Taken aback by your bluntness, he paused briefly to compose himself before clearing his throat, "Ah, I see... If you insist, Miss Baek, I won't sugarcoat my thoughts on your choice of attire. Your family has expressed concerns about your ability to attract suitors, and I can see why. It's pretty clear to me that you struggle with dressing in a way that appeals to others but fear not. I'm here now, and I'll help you enhance your style."

Just when he thought you couldn't possibly surprise him any further, you shrugged in disagreement, "I don't believe I'm struggling at all. I know exactly what I like, and this is it," you gestured to your hanbok, "It's not my fault nobody shares the same opinion."

Baffled by your words, he finally grasped the true extent of your problem. Yes, your fashion style was the main issue, but more crucially, it was your entire character. Throughout his life, the dressmaker had encountered his fair share of eccentric individuals, but you seemed to easily surpass them all in peculiarity.

Your blunt honesty was one thing, but it was your overall lack of emotion or ability to read social cues that truly puzzled him. Perhaps it was simply your indifference. Regardless, one thing became abundantly clear to him: he did not like you. Despite having only just met you, he eagerly anticipated the moment he could leave your presence.

Lord help me, I cannot stand her already.

Blinking rapidly, he struggled to maintain the smile on his face as he responded stiffly, "I... I understand, Miss Baek. Perhaps that's your belief for now. However, I'm confident you'll change your mind once you see my designs. They never disappoint. I've never had a dissatisfied customer, and I fully intend to keep it that way."

Not wanting to dwell on your comments, he quickly clapped his hands together and continued, "Now, without further ado, let's proceed with taking your measurements."

Forget discussing your preferences, you had made your stance clear. But Hongjoong remained determined to impress you with his work. He was eager to unveil his best design, he couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you would realise how stupid you were to prefer prison clothes over his hanboks.

Retrieving his measuring tape and notebook from his bag, he turned to you, making an effort to conceal any hint of displeasure on his face as he approached, "Stay still, my lady. This will only take a moment," he instructed, beginning with your shoulders before proceeding to measure your height, sleeve length, and neck size. His breath caught and his hands trembled as he reached the final step, assessing your waist and chest measurements.

While he typically performed these tasks with ease, it was usually in the familiar surroundings of his shop, with others present. Now, it was just the two of you in the expansive, quiet library. For some reason, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.

Focus, Kim Hongjoong!

Suppressing the sudden spike of his heartbeat, he maintained a composed expression and directed, "Please raise your arms, my lady. I'll need to measure your chest and waist next."

Flustered, he attributed the fluttering of his heart to the persistent, unabashed curiosity in your gaze throughout the measurement process. That must be it, he reasoned. You didn't possess goddess-like beauty, nor were you sweet as an angel. There was no other reason for him to react that way than sheer embarrassment under your scrutiny.

Little did he know, you experienced similar, if not more intense, emotions than he did. But who could blame you, really? It was the first time a man had ever been in such close proximity to you. The only difference between you was your adeptness at concealing your feelings, contrasting with the subtle shifts in his demeanour and the slight tremor in his hands, which did not evade your perceptive gaze.

He was merely a man, after all. You supposed it was only natural for him to exhibit such reactions in the presence of a woman.

But that didn't mean much.

You could tell he disliked you, a sentiment you had grown used to. Like everyone else you met, it seemed no one genuinely liked you. Your family's acceptance stemmed from obligation, your servants' compliance from their employment, and Hongjoong's engagement from his professional duty. Once that was done, you were certain you would never see him again. Armed with this notion, you maintained your stoic façade.

"Very well, Miss Baek. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll return when the first batch of your hanboks is ready," the dressmaker stated, swiftly gathering his belongings and offering one final bow before hurrying out of the library, pink tinting his cheeks.

"Goodbye, Mr. Kim."

Back at his shop that evening, he struggled to focus on his work. His thoughts kept wandering back to the moment your faces were inches apart, when he had to briefly encircle his arms around your waist to take measurements. Despite the unattractive hanbok you wore, he couldn't deny that you smelled quite pleasant. At the very least, you had good hygiene, he had to give you that.

Get a grip, you fool!

Giving himself a sharp slap on the cheek, he shook off the distraction. He reminded himself of the sheer frustration of being around you. From your perplexing bluntness to your questionable taste in fashion, it was enough to raise his blood pressure. How could someone like you even exist? He realised now that he had vastly underestimated your peculiar nature. Once confident he could see through anyone, he was beginning to have second thoughts.

Nevertheless, one thing remained certain: you would surely admire the designs he had in store for you. His work had always been his stronghold, never failing to impress. If even royalty had been impressed, why wouldn't a mere noblewoman like yourself? You claimed to dislike fashion, but that was only because you hadn't seen his masterpieces, he was sure of it.

No one, no one could ever resist his work.

Determined to swiftly overcome this minor obstacle, he reassured himself that you were just a small hurdle on the path to another remarkable achievement. In the end, when you were basking in the glory of the century's most sensational makeover, all the effort would be worthwhile. He could not wait for you to shed tears of gratitude, thanking him for opening your eyes to the true essence of beauty. With that conviction, he delved into his work, flipping through his sketchbook until he reached the section reserved for his finest designs, carefully curated for an occasion like this.

Pausing at one of his personal favorites, a masterpiece he had been saving for a worthy client, he decided that now was the perfect opportunity to bring it to life.

Oh, you were sure to adore it.

You had to.

But he should have known better than to actually believe that. He was, once again, in for a surprise a few days later when he arrived at the Baek estate with the first hanbok done. Only once he had your green light would he be able to proceed with making more for you. As the maids escorted him to your quarters, they noted his bright demeanour; you had risen late today and were still having breakfast in solitude, "You seem quite cheerful today, Mr. Kim," one remarked, arching an eyebrow.

He smirked confidently, "Indeed, I am. Your young miss will be very impressed with what she is about to see today. With this makeover, she'll surely catch the eye of potential suitors in no time."

The maid hesitated, cautioning, "I'm not sure you should be so certain. The young miss isn't like any other girl you've worked with."

"Ah, I know, but my work speaks for itself," he retorted, "She'd be silly not to like it."

"If you say so, sir," the maid replied, her tone conceding defeat. She knew better than to doubt his skill, but she also understood that you were unlike any other. He would soon discover that firsthand, and she was almost certain he wouldn't leave the estate with the same confidence he arrived with.

"Well, what do you think?" inquired the dressmaker, proudly unveiling his newest masterpiece to his latest customer.

Eyeing the elegantly colourful hanbok, which was a departure from your usual plain white ones, your gaze remained impassive. After what seemed like an eternity, you responded with a slight furrow of your brows, "It uhh... it looks nice, I suppose."

As you watched Hongjoong's reaction falter momentarily, it appeared as though he was experiencing a million emotions per second before settling on a deeply offended expression. With an audible scoff, he clenched his jaw, "Nice, you say? Just... nice? You suppose? Miss Baek, that is utterly outrageous! Throughout my career, I've only ever been praised for delivering perfection."

You stayed silent as he continued to extol his successes, boasting about being the best dressmaker in all of Joseon and citing his most illustrious achievements, such as the wedding dress he crafted for Lady Park, which even impressed Their Majesties. It dawned on you that your simple response had deeply wounded him.

"I-I mean... it's not bad," you interjected, hoping to fix the damage, but your heart sank as he only glared at you, "Not bad...? I'm sorry, was that supposed to console me?" he chuckled incredulously, "You know what? Now I understand why you're still single. At this rate, you'll never find a husband."

Ouch.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening, causing the maids who were waiting in your room to quickly shuffle closer to you, noticing you had finished your meal, "Young miss, we'll just be clearing this up and excusing ourselves."

"Thank you." You nodded curtly, watching emotionlessly as they hastily picked up the table containing the empty plates and bowls and left with a deep bow. Meanwhile, the dressmaker remained in his spot, visibly heaving deep breaths as if trying to calm himself from the outburst, before carefully setting the hanbok down.

After you were left alone, he took a deep breath before apologising, "Gosh, I— I'm so sorry, Miss Baek. That was uncalled for, I—"

Shaking your head, you cut him off, "No, please don't be. You were merely telling the truth. As I've said, I prefer unvarnished truth to false pleasantries. In fact, I believe you are right about that. You are not the first to say that, and you certainly won't be the last."

As he absorbed your words, a wave of discomfort washed over Hongjoong. For some reason, he would have preferred if you had yelled at him or thrown a tantrum rather than accepting his insults like that. Surely, it couldn't feel pleasant to hear such remarks, no matter how unaffected you made yourself appear. It made him feel terrible, and he hated it — hated the guilt that filled him for uttering such words.

Clearing his throat, he sighed, "I... my lady, please don't say that. It's just that... I really need your approval before I make more of these for you. At the end of the day, you are the one who has to wear them." His voice softened, an attempt to make up for his earlier harshness.

You detected the familiar pity in his tone, and you despised it. Raising a brow, you shrugged, "Why does my approval matter? It's my family who's paying you, not me. You owe it to them to make me look perfect, whatever that means. I've made it clear what I like, and if it's not to yours or anyone's taste, so be it. I see no point in consulting me on your designs, Mr. Kim. Just do what you're hired for; it doesn't matter what I like."

It never has.

While that should have brought relief to the dressmaker, knowing he had the freedom to pursue his vision without worrying about your approval, something about your words left him feeling... melancholic. It struck a chord within him, reminding him of his own struggles when he initially embarked on his fashion career. At that time, it was met with disapproval from society, which deemed it an unfitting profession for a man. Despite the opposition, he chose to be himself.

However, seeing you succumb to societal expectations, suppressing your true self to please others, including him, stirred a sense of empathy within him. It mirrored his own past battles with conformity. Unlike him, you were forced to adhere to societal norms, sacrificing your individuality for the sake of others' expectations.

And he didn't like that.

But what he hated even more was how you managed to evoke emotions he hadn't signed up for. Despite his efforts to push thoughts of you aside and concentrate solely on his goal—to craft the finest hanboks in all of Joseon and transform you into a vision of beauty, one you did not desire—the memory of your somewhat disheartening expression, as you dismissed the importance of your preferences, lingered in his mind. It unsettled him, he hated the way it was causing an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"I'm telling you, Yunho, she's infuriating!"

The physician, busy tidying his clinic counter, rolled his eyes, "How could I not know, hyung? You've been talking about her since my lunch break. We're almost at closing time; are you finished?"

Hongjoong crossed his arms, scoffing, "What, do you have somewhere else to be? Don't think I haven't noticed you've been going to that apothecary more often lately."

Yunho stilled, a faint pink dusting across his cheeks as he cleared his throat, "What do you mean? I've always gone there for herbs."

"Yes, but not as frequently as you do now. Ever since you met a certain herbalist," Hongjoong teased, wiggling his brows.

"If you have nothing important to say, please leave," the physician grumbled, tired of the older man's rambling.

Uncrossing his arms, the dressmaker said, "W-wait! Look, you're the most rational one among us. I just... wanted to know your thoughts on the matter."

Sighing, Yunho softened, "You know, she's right. You're hired by her family, your job is simple, and you know what you have to do. The only reason you're so affected by this is probably because you care."

"I do not care about her—"

"Sure, if you say so. Then go on ahead and complete your job. You'll receive your payment and all the benefits that come with it anyway. So, what's really bothering you?"

Oh my gosh, thank you so much for 1.6k followers! Same as Wooyoung's spinoff, the next part will be the second and final part. I've decided to standardise the format, so all the spinoffs will be two-shots.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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