#because the friend doesn’t really think it’s that bad

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Eldritch Ex-Husband ///////

Your now ex-husband is incredibly surprised when the authorities are dispatched to your new house when he enters. Thinking nothing of it he broke the knob of your new home, thinking after all that time talking with the judge over some foreign topic you’d both be settling into the new place. Turns out this ‘divorce’-thing and ‘restraining order’-stuff meant something after all. That he couldn’t be with you and the baby.

“Wait, the dee - force means I don’t get to come home? What–?”

“Sir, if you give me trouble it’ll only hurt your chances of seeing your kid more.”

“Wait I can’t see him? (Y/n)! (Y/n)-honey, please!”

“Sir, please put your hands behind your back.”

The only reason he doesn’t suck their brains out through their noses+ fight more is because he’s so devastated as he thinks about how in the dark about cruel-human-practices. Only now does it register that when you were oh-so cutely crying about leaving, you weren’t talking about a late night run to the store to satisfy your cravings. That the word he had dismissed as something you wanted to buy was actually an action. An action that meant he’d be deprived of the most important person in his life.

“Hello?”

“......I did not understand before….but I understand now.”

“Kilton? You know a restraining order extends to calls, right?”

“IM nOt LetTInG yOu go—”

Click.

“Creep.”

As he reluctantly uses the resources proposed to him, to argue for custody he has time to think about when you first mentioned the word. But the more he replays those heavenly moments with you he realizes how often your brow was scrunched and a vein was popping from that kissable forehead. It’s then that your ex-husband begins to realize just how little he was actually listening to you. Ashamed, he’s realized that while he finds all your actions absolutely irresistible it didn’t mean you were happy. And he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Hello this is Kilton (L/n) if you have a message leave it at the tone….beep.”

“Hey I hope I got the right number but I need your help with the baby….there’s stuff going on that I have no idea how to deal with. I won’t call the police or tell anyone..I just need….some help. And you're the only one who can give it to me.”

“OF COURSE i’LL BE RIGht oVER!”

“Wait you never set up your voicemai—”

When you left your husband, you were tired of being so confused all the time. Your husband, your best friend was keeping you in the dark for a long time now. Starting from the occasionally odd behavior you’d witness him do, that he’d brush off as if it were nothing. Like the doors in the house that have begun to open to alternate dimensions (that’s what you believe but your husband will not explain in any way) ignoring your concerns and calling you being ‘silly.’ It was annoying but you hadn’t died yet so it wasn’t that bad…until you got pregnant.

“How can this be?”

“Yippee I told you, that one took!”

“No, I literally can’t.”

“Of course, you can babe, you already are look at your little bump.”

“No like I literally can’t this is unbelievable.”

Whether you physically can and were vigilant in prevention or you physically should not be able to conceive matters not. You are pregnant. Or you were. And while dealing with the intense hormones and birthing pains and gravity-defying phenomena happening in your home, your ex-husband would explain nothing. Doing nothing but smile wistfully at you while you demanded to know why the fridge was inching closer every time you turned the corner. Any sane person could only handle so much of his pretend assurances that you were just losing your mind. 

But hindsight 20/20 you should’ve known you couldn’t get rid of your eldritch ex-husband with your eldritch baby. 

“Hey you left the door unlocked, so I let myself in. Babe, you can’t be doing that it’s really unsa–the furniture doesn’t look at all like it did before.”

“Of course it doesn’t! Because your son has decided to rearrange it with his humming!” 

“That’s not a hum, Love. He’s singing a hymn of Utter Chaos–”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS MAKE HIM STOP.”

As you suspected the root of all the inexplicable happenings in your life were because of your ex-husband and by extension the little bundle that has been doing all sorts of things a normal baby shouldn’t. Like humming the ‘utter chaos song’ or making supplies float over to you while changing him or how at the end of his bath the water turns red and evaporates in an echo of screams. It’s just a little alarming.

“Where is the baby?”

“In that other dimension.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that something familiar to you? Every now and then he just goes into this other dimension that let’s his laugh morph the walls a little.”

“Oh my. That’s new for me too.”

Surprisingly despite your husband’s now-confirmed-eldritch-heritage he’s not an exact expert on everything his son does. Apparently no one from his world/dimension/atternate plane of existence does everything your son does and is blissfully writing off as something from your side of the family. He’ll shrug and use the opportunity to listen to you list the observations you’ve made about your darling offspring and maybe compliment you on your vigilance as a new unfortunately single parent. Don’t worry it won’t be that way for long!+

“So the blood water thing. It happens whenever he interacts with water.”

“Oh I know that one it’s an old habit of mine, for storing water for later!”

“What about the metal-eating?”

“Metal eating? With no teeth? Beats me must have gotten a taste from all those utensils you’re so fond of. By the way parenthood looks good on you have I told you that?”

As he becomes more of a constant presence in your home, there's a startling change in your baby boy’s behavior. It doesn’t stop but it’s a lot less destructive. Finally, you could have the delivery crew enter the yard without them being swallowed by the portal to your son’s crib. Finally, you can afford to have a couple-hour meet and greet with your family without anyone inexplicably sprouting horns. So reluctantly you let him back into your life with very specific conditions.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Aww but aren’t you worried about me going home in the dark?”

“I know you’re not just some helpless human, so no. Second rule no kissing or lovey dovey things with me.”

“Got it. So vague I can work with that.”

“And finally–”

“EEEKK! WHAT DID HE DO TO MY BABY!?”

“Oh guess someone’s up from their nap.”

“I’ll distract her with a ring to her doorbell, you change back the dog.”

“As always, please try to turn down her invites for dinner this time. I don’t think I can spare her if she upsets him again.”

“No promises!”

Kilton realizes that what he has with you doesn’t mean he’s equally let back into your life, especially since so many other couples ailed by this (dee)force co-parent more or less the same so he’s got his work cut out for him. He’ll have to finally get over his listening issue while worming his way back into your heart! And don’t worry he definitely will!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐭

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: drew appears on the late late show with james corden to play the infamous game ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. little does he know, you had previously been on the show and specifically requested he be invited.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mild language, secondhand embarrassment, extreme cheesiness and boyfriend material overload.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @issabellec7

based on this request

“Alright, Drew,” James started, rubbing his hands together.

“First of all, welcome! We are so happy to have you here.”

“Thank you, man, I appreciate it,” Drew said, shifting in his seat.

“Though I gotta say, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

James let out a dramatic laugh.

“As you should! Because, as you saw, your lovely girlfriend Y/N was here not too long ago. And guess what? She personally requested you to be here tonight!”

Drew groaned playfully, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I knew it!”

“And,” James continued, “she also made sure we included dark chocolate, which I assume is some kind of inside joke?”

Drew exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

“Yeah, uh, I hates dark chocolate. Like, passionately. So this is definitely her way of messing with me.”

“Well, my friend, she succeeded!” James laughed.

“Now, let’s get started! First up…”

He gestured toward the table, dramatically lifting the first lid.

James scrunched his nose.

“Oh, this smells absolutely disgusting. So, Drew, here’s your first question: What is the most annoying habit Y/N has that drives you crazy?��

The crowd gasped playfully. Drew tilted his head back, laughing.

“Oh man, I can already hear her reaction to this.”

“Would you like a bite of pickled pig’s feet instead?”

James wiggled his eyebrows.

Drew shook his head.

“No, no, I’ll answer. Uh… okay, Y/N is literally the most perfect human, but if I had to say something…”

He exhaled dramatically.

“She never puts the cap back on the toothpaste. And she squeezes it from the middle instead of the bottom, and it kills me.”

The audience burst into laughter.

“That is valid,” James agreed.

“She’s an amazing actress, but a toothpaste menace.”

James pulled out a glass filled with a murky, grayish-green liquid.

“This is a sardine smoothie. And your question is: What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for Y/N that she doesn’t even know about?”

Drew winced at the drink.

“That looks awful.”

“It is awful,” James confirmed. “So spill it.”

Drew thought for a moment, then smiled.

“Okay. There was this one time when Y/N had a bad day she didn’t say anything, but I could tell. She had this childhood book she lost years ago, so I spent weeks tracking down a first-edition copy. I left it on her nightstand with a note, but I never told her it was me.”

The audience awed loudly.

James clutched his chest.

“That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life!”

Drew shrugged, grinning. “I just love making her happy.”

James lifted the lid, revealing a large, slimy cow tongue. Drew grimaced.

“Nope. Absolutely not.”

“Then answer this,” James smirked.

“Out of all of Y/N’s past on-screen romantic co-stars, who do you think had the best chemistry with her?”

Drew’s jaw dropped as the audience gasped. “Oh, come on!”

“Answer, or it’s cow tongue time!”

Drew groaned.

“Fine. If I’m being honest… I hated watching her with Jake Gyllenhaal. They just had way too much chemistry, and it made me so jealous.”

James burst into laughter.

“You paused the movie, didn’t you?”

Drew sighed. “Paused it. Left the room. Came back an hour later and still wasn’t over it.”

James lifted the plate.

“Drew, Y/N personally requested the chocolate, but we added wasabi. Your question: What’s the cheesiest thing you say to Y/N in private that you would never say in public?”

Drew groaned.

“Oh no. Nope. I refuse to expose myself like this.”

“You sure?” James taunted.

Drew sighed. “Fine. I call her ‘my little sunshine bean.’”

James lost it. “SUNSHINE BEAN?!”

Drew buried his face in his hands. “I knew this was a mistake!”

James wiped his tears.

“Alright, last one. You have to call Y/N and let her ask you a question. Answer, or take a bite of fermented tofu.”

Drew sighed dramatically before dialing your number.

“Drew?” your voice filled the studio. “Are you on Spill Your Guts?”

The crowd cheered.

“Yeah, baby, I am. And James is making me call you.”

You giggled. “Okay… If you had to get a giant tattoo of my face anywhere, where would you put it?”

Drew groaned as James cackled.

“Fine! I’d put it on my ribs. Right over my heart, happy now?”

You gasped dramatically. “That was actually a really good answer.”

James smirked. “What’s a role you regret turning down or missing out on?”

Drew sighed. “I was this close to being in a Western movie, and I regret not pushing harder for it.”

James lifted the bowl. “If you could travel anywhere right now, where would it be?”

Drew smiled. “Greece. I wanna take Y/N and just disappear on an island for a month.”

James leaned in. “What’s your dream project?”

Drew grinned. “Something I can do with Y/N. Whether it’s a rom-com or an action movie, I just wanna work with her.”

James clapped his hands.

“Drew, you survived!”

Drew blew a kiss to the camera.

“I did it for you, baby!”

[callsign-rogueone]

Going off your wingleader!Liam idea… Liam and reader are third-years and total couple goals. A first year comes in and starts flirting with reader every time he sees her. He doesn’t know she’s dating his wingleader. She’s polite but doesn’t mention Liam.

One day during training the new guy is watching reader and running his mouth about how hot she is, nudging other guys in his squad and making all kinds of remarks, even going so far as to make a comment to Liam. Liam just smirks, showing off those cute little dimples, as reader walks over and kisses him in front of everyone. New guy just stares in absolute shock (and horror when he realizes the woman he’s been objectifying is his wingleader’s girl.) Need a fic like this immediately 😭

I love this so much. I don't have the bandwidth to write this into a whole chapter but I DO have ideas. so here they are. (future Liz here… I got very carried away. but it’s Liam, so it’s fine.)

this guy clearly thinks he's hot shit. not even bonded yet, but his ego is bigger than Tairn's. so of course he goes after you, a third year with a leadership position at the top of your class. (because Liam's girl is as perfect as him.)

at this point you're used to these boys coming in and trying to flex on everyone. so you know how to brush it off. it's so routine that you don't even mention it to Liam, because you've got more important things to do / discuss.

anyway.

a couple weeks go by of the same thing, until one day, mister confidence is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. running his mouth without realizing who's around him, watching you demonstrate something and making comments to his friends instead of paying attention. Liam's about to elbow him and tell him to shut up, and then he realizes that they're talking about you.

immediately, he's upset — he's just itching to tell this guy off, both for talking when he's supposed to be listening to directions that could save his life, and also for saying those things about you, making comments on your body and how much he wants to... you know what I’m getting at here. anyway.

you can see Liam standing at the back of the gym, can see the visible frustration on his face and the way his jaw is clenched, his shoulders tight and tense... and you know it's hard to upset our sunshine boy, so something bad must have happened.

you wrap up the demonstration, get the youngins paired up to work, and then you slip away to Liam and give him a little kiss, because that’s your default greeting, that’s just automatic at this point when you see him, and take his hand and ask what’s wrong.

and then all the stress and tension just fades out of him, and he gives you a genuine smile, pulls you closer and holds you in a way that makes it clear that you’re a couple.

normally he isn’t one for PDA, so you’re a little surprised, but you don’t question it at all, just happy to cuddle up with him, resting your head on his shoulder and taking a moment to relax — his presence is always so soothing, and you don’t get moments like this very often in your very busy days as a wingleader and a section leader.

you don’t even notice the boy’s slack-jawed look as he realizes that you have a boyfriend. you’re too busy appreciating the moment you get to spend with Liam — but over your shoulder, he’s definitely smirking at the kid, like… get fucked, she’s mine. not that our boy would ever say that. he’s just thinking it really hard.

he gets a little pouty once you're behind closed doors, though, and tells you about it.

you laugh, and remind him that the first year boys can look all they want, but he's the only one who can touch, and if they do, they're going to get their nose broken. and that he's the only one who can set foot in your room, because you absolutely warded them like Xaden and Violet's.

that pacifies him, but he’s still thinking about it for the rest of the day.

he doesn’t consider himself particularly possessive, but he realizes that he just wants people to know that you’re his — or more so that you’re together and in love, and you’re it for each other.

the pair of you have always been focused on the present, the incredibly stressful lives that you lead here at this death trap of a school. but now he starts really thinking about the future.

you’ll be graduating soon, a pair of lieutenants headed off… somewhere. he hasn’t decided yet. he’ll get his choice, being a wingleader. but what about you? section leaders aren’t promised anything. there’s only one other way to guarantee that you’ll stay together… and damn, does he like the idea of you having matching name patches on your flight jackets.

but you deserve a real proposal, a romantic one, not something rushed, decided out of practicality. and when is too soon in your relationship to talk about that? you’ve been together since your threshing, but it feels like a lot longer than that — everything you’ve endured has brought you closer, he supposes.

you curl further into his side with a sleepy hum. “what’s on your mind?”

he’s about to tell you it’s nothing, but you know him better than that. “you have that look on your face,” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “know you’re thinkin' about something.”

“about you," he answers honestly, lifting the arm you have slung around his waist and finding your hand, taking it in his. it fits perfectly, your skin smooth against the callouses and scars decorating his hands from years of making his carvings. a dangerous hobby, you’d joked. you have a point. he’s amassed more tiny injuries from his own knives than from anything Basgiath has put him through. “about us.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he answers, his thumb brushing over your ring finger, where a wedding band would go. “about the future.”

“two kids and a cat,” you murmur. “and trips to Morraine in the summer. rent a little house on the lake for a week or two, and just lay around.”

“sounds perfect.”

you just hum in reply, too tired to keep talking. Liam presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the covers a little higher. “I love you.”

“Love y’too.”

[kiyoomiee]

Your bestfriend, Yuuji’s older half-brother Sukuna, who always had this grudge towards you and you can’t pinpoint why.

You first met him during summer break. Your couldn’t keep up with your dorm fees anymore and happened to mention it to Yuuji one time.

“You could stay with me! I have a spare room nobody’s using.”

“Are you sure Yuuji? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t even have to pay rent or anything.”

A home that’s close to uni and has no fees? It was heaven sent for a broke college student!

“That’s the last of them. Thank you Yuuji, I really appreciate the help. If there’s anything I could do around here just let me know.” You told him after dropping your stacking your last moving box into your new room.

“No problem. Just a heads up though, my brother also lives with me. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, it’s fine with me.” Your famous last words.

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

“Sukuna can be..difficult sometimes. But it’d be nice if you two would be friends. If not, ehh, just avoid him if you can.”

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

To say that Sukuna had a bad day at the tattoo shop was an understatement. His new assistant never arrived, he was dealing with a shit client plus, his ink almost ran out.

His frustration echoed throughout the two-storey house when he slammed the front door shut.

He was confused by the smell coming from the kitchen as he walked in. Is Yuuji cooking? Nah, his idiot brother would burn the house down if he even tried to get near the kitchen.

Instead, he finds a woman’s figure busy behind the kitchen counter. It made him stop his tracks.

Beautiful, he thought. But too young for Sukuna’s taste. Plus, he doesn’t like it when a stranger touches his favorite spot in the house.

So great, his bad day is about to become worse.

“Who. The. Fuck. Are you?” You almost screamed when your eyes went to the man that appeared behind you.

He looked similar to Yuuji, but the aura was very different. His build was larger, jaw sharper, and he had looked furious.

Oh, he must be Yuuji’s brother, Sukuna. You tensed up unintentionally while his eyes wandered on what you’re wearing.

“You one of Yuuji’s girls? I told him not to bring his hookups here.” He uttered, eyes not leaving yours.

You wore a tank top with cotton pajama shorts. You looked too comfortable just to be visiting.

“No! I-I’m Yuuji’s friend. It’s nice to meet you.” You said nervously.

“Can’t say the same sweetheart. I’m not so fond of strangers in my house. So open the front door and walk outside.”

What? Is he kicking you out?

“Wait! Yuuji didn’t tell you? He allowed me to stay at the spare room down the hall.”

“He what?” Sukuna was fuming. Every step he took closer to you looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“YUUJI!” His voice thundered all over the house.

“I-I think he’s sleeping in his room.” You winced at the string of curses that came out of his mouth.

“Whatever conversation you had with my dumb brother, it’s not happening. You can’t stay here.”

“But it’s the start of the semester, I can’t find a new dorm in a snap!”

“You shouting at me, girl?”

“N-No, I mean-just please, I can take care of the house. I can even cook for you. I can’t afford to leave, not right now.”

Before Sukuna could open his mouth, Yuuji’s footsteps rang out from the stairs.

“Sukuna, you’re back! Wait, did something happen?” Yuuji looks at your nervous face.

“Yeah we’ve met alright.” Sukuna muttered, arms crossing to his chest.

“Yuuji, your brother’s kicking me out.” You tried to hide behind Yuuji’s form.

“What? You can’t kick her out!”

“I can because it’s my goddamn house. If don’t want some girl in here, she’s got to go.”

“You can’t! To be fair, I did tell you that my friend’s staying with us for a while and you agreed.”

Yeah he did agree but he thought that black haired kid was moving in, not you.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Sukuna exclaimed and you could tell he’s about to lose it.

“I’ll stay out of your way all the time, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m here.” You pleaded him.

“Yeah, I doubt that. Clean up your damn mess.” He said harshly and glared at you before stomping his way upstairs.

“I’m so sorry. My brother’s not so good at making first impressions.” Yuuji pouted.

He’s an asshole, you wanted to say.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad he didn’t kick me out.” You exhaled in relief.

If that was his reaction during your first meeting then what about the upcoming months?

“He won’t. I’m sure you’ll grow on him, you kinda have that effect on people.” Yuuji tried to cheer you up but you just gave him a faint smile.

Yeah, somehow you doubt that would work on Sukuna.

——————————————————

note: Sukuna is 29 in this fic and your age gap is 6 years. I don’t like doing age gap with minors, so just think that everyone in this fic are 18+.

[scarletwinterxx]

magnets - choi seungcheol imagine 1/2

buckle up bcs this is going to be a long one, i tried i really did i tried my best writing as much angst as i can. i'm not the best in that genre but i think i like how it turned out... i tried my best to put into words the scenes I had in my head. i needed to make this in 2 parts since it won't let me post all at once😅 so yes THERE WILL BE A SECOND HALF

tbh out of all the stories i wrote here, this one has the most 'me' in it. sad if you realize why i say that but yea😅 in my mind, cheol is the type of man whose love isn't consuming, it just makes everything better, easier, a little less terrifying bcs no matter what you can count on him to be there with you. i guess that's what make me love this story even more. hope you do too!

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve heard it all before. You're too picky. Your standards are unrealistic. Men aren’t that bad.

Lies. All of it.

Men are that bad. They lack common sense, can’t read between the lines, and somehow think saying "you’re not like other girls" is a compliment. You’ve dodged so many disastrous setups that your friends have given up entirely, dubbing you "The Man Hater." 

Until a certain someone crossed paths with you. 

It happens on a regular Friday night. Your group is at some bar Mingyu insisted on checking out, and you're barely listening to Jeonghan talk about his latest situationship when you see him.

Seungcheol walks in like he owns the place. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and a presence that makes women glance up instinctively. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s in a plain black tee, jeans that fit just right, and a watch that looks like it costs more than your rent. The kicker? He doesn’t even try to look hot. He just is.

"Who is that?" you ask, cutting off Jeonghan mid-sentence.

Your friends freeze "Did you just…" Jeonghan starts.

"Who," you repeat, your voice dangerously close to sounding interested, "is that?"

Mingyu, still coughing, thumps his chest. "Choi Seungcheol," he wheezes. "Why?"

"He’s hot," you declare, because there’s no point in denying the undeniable.

"You hate men," Irene reminds you, like you’ve somehow forgotten

"I hate most men," you correct. "That one? I want him."

Jeonghan bursts into laughter. "This is the best night of my life."

You ignore them because Seungcheol is making his way to the bar, completely unaware of the chaos he’s caused. You watch, entranced, as he leans against the counter. When the bartender hands him a drink, he nods in thanks. Polite, effortless. Not once does he scan the crowd for attention like most men do. He knows he has it.

Mingyu, having finally recovered, shakes his head. "No way. Seungcheol turns down everyone."

"Not for long," you murmur, already formulating a plan.

Jihyo narrows her eyes. "Oh my God. You’re serious. You’re actually serious."

"I am."

Irene stares at you, then at Seungcheol. "I give you five minutes before he shuts you down."

"Three," Mingyu corrects.

"Ten," Jeonghan bets

"Have some faith," you scoff, already standing up. "Watch and learn, peasants."

You stride towards the bar, heart hammering, but determination stronger. It’s been years since you’ve been genuinely interested in someone. You’ll be damned if you let this moment pass.

Seungcheol notices you as you approach, and when your eyes meet, he tilts his head slightly curious but unreadable. Up close, he’s even better. You swallow.

Then, with all the confidence in the world, you slide onto the stool next to him before speaking

"So, do we skip the small talk, or do I have to pretend I don’t already want you?"

Seungcheol blinks. Then, he laughs. low, rich, interested and just like that, the game begins. He turns fully to face you, one elbow resting on the bar, drink held loosely in his hand. His gaze flickers over you—assessing, but not in that sleazy way men do when they think they have the upper hand. No, this is different. 

He’s curious.

"That’s a bold opener," he muses, taking a sip of his drink.

You smirk. "I don’t do weak ones."

He hums, seemingly unfazed, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays him. "And what exactly do you already want from me?"

Your fingers drum against the bar as you lean in slightly, "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

For a second, he doesn’t say anything. He just watches you, then he sets his drink down with a quiet clink and exhales a small chuckle. "You’re not like the others."

"God, please tell me that’s not your usual line," you tease.

His grin widens. "No. Usually, I don’t even entertain conversations."

"Tragic," you say dryly. "You’ve been missing out."

His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek, and you swear you see a flicker of actual interest settle in his expression. Then, suddenly, he shifts gears.

"You came over here with a plan," he states, amusement laced in his voice. "Go ahead. Impress me."

Oh, he’s fun. You tilt your head, feigning thoughtfulness. "Alright. First, we exchange names not because I don’t already know yours, but because manners are important."

Seungcheol chuckles, but he plays along. "Choi Seungcheol."

You extend a hand. "Nice to meet you, Seungcheol" you say his name, telling him yours also

"I know who you are." That throws you off for exactly half a second, and you hate how much you like hearing him say your name. 

"Oh? And how exactly did you hear about me?"

"I have ears," he shrugs. "And friends who talk too much." he looks behind you. You glance back at your table, where your friends are openly staring.

"They bet against you, didn’t they?"

"Obviously." you scowl then turn to look at him again

"And yet, here we are."

"Here we are," you echo, matching his smirk.

He looks at you for a moment longer, as if weighing his next move. Then, he leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Alright. You’ve got my attention. Now what?"

You don’t get flustered easily. You’ve shut down men with nothing but a raised brow and a well-placed bless your heart more times than you can count. But there’s something about the way Seungcheol leans in, watching you with that amused little smirk, that makes your pulse trip over itself.

"That depends. Are you going to buy me a drink, or am I going to have to suffer through this conversation sober?"

His smirk turns into a full grin, slow and devastating. "So demanding."

"I don’t waste time," you quip

He chuckles, a deep, satisfied sound, before signaling to the bartender. "Get her whatever she wants," he tells them, then glances back at you. "And if you say something ridiculous, I’m judging you."

"Wow," you scoff, placing a hand over your heart. "You don’t even know my order, and you’re already prepared to be disappointed? You really are different."

Seungcheol snorts. "Just don’t tell me it’s some overly complicated drink with eight different ingredients."

You hum, making a show of considering his words before turning to the bartender. "A whiskey sour."

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Not bad."

"Did you think I was going to order an appletini?"

"Honestly? I wouldn’t put it past you."

You laugh, shaking your head as the bartender hands you your drink. You take a sip, enjoying the slight tang, then tilt the glass in his direction. "See? No judgment necessary."

"I’ll admit, I’m a little relieved," he teases, taking a sip of his own drink.

You narrow your eyes playfully. "So, is this your thing?"

"My thing?"

"Buying girls drinks, making them feel special, then walking away like a mysterious, unattainable dream?"

Seungcheol huffs out a quiet laugh. "Not really. Like I said, I usually don’t entertain conversations."

"But you’re entertaining this one."

He tilts his glass toward you in a silent toast. "I am."

You clink your glass against his, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. "I must be special, then."

Seungcheol watches you over the rim of his glass, his gaze just a little darker now. "You must be."

You linger at the bar with Seungcheol for a few more moments, exchanging teasing remarks and sidelong glances, but eventually, you decide to leave while you're ahead.

"Well, this has been fun," you say, setting your now-empty glass on the counter.

Seungcheol tilts his head. "Leaving already?"

"What, you want me to stay?"

He huffs a quiet laugh. "I wouldn’t mind."

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "Tempting… but I like to keep things interesting."

Before he can respond, you slide your arm across the bar toward him, palm up. His brows raise slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate. He picks up a pen left behind by the bartender and, with deliberate strokes, scrawls his number across your forearm.

When he finishes, he caps the pen, meeting your gaze with a knowing smirk. "Your move."

You glance at the numbers, then back at him. "We’ll see." Then, without another word, you turn on your heel and walk back to your table.

As expected, your friends are staring. The moment you reach the table, Jihyo blurts, "What happened?!"

You take your seat, completely unbothered, and casually extend your arm, showing off the ink on your skin. Silence.

Then

"WHAT THE—?!" Mingyu practically screeches, nearly knocking over his drink in the process. “Wait, wait. So, you—the man hater—just casually waltzed over there, flirted with Choi Seungcheol, and now you have his number?"

"Looks like it." You examine your arm with a smug smile.

Jihyo grips your wrist, eyes darting over the digits. "So? Are you texting him? Calling? When’s the wedding?"

You shrug, retracting your arm. "I’m not texting him."

Jihyo looks betrayed. "Why the hell not?!"

"Where’s the fun in that?" You take a slow sip of your drink. "Let’s see if he texts first."

Jeonghan looks at you before the evil smile shows on his face, “You didn’t give him your number, didn’t you?”

“Nope”

Jeonghan leans forward. "Oh, you’re evil."

You don’t text him that night. Or the next. His number, which you took time to save on your phone, remains stagnant on your contact list. 

You’re lounging on your couch, half-listening to a true crime documentary, when your phone buzzes with a call from an unknown number. You stare at it for a second, debating whether to answer, before sighing and picking up.

"Hello?"

Silence. Then—

"Was this your plan all along?"

You freeze. That voice is unmistakable. Leaning back against the cushions, you fight the smirk threatening to form. "Choi Seungcheol."

"You remember my name. Good to know," he deadpans.

You hum, inspecting your nails. "You sound a little… frustrated."

"I had to track down your friends just to get your number," he says, and you can hear the irritation laced with amusement. "Do you know how annoying that was?"

You bite back a laugh. "Who caved?"

"Mingyu. He held out for, like, ten seconds."

You laugh, imagining the exact moment Seungcheol probably cornered Mingyu, all intimidating and brooding, while your friend fumbled immediately.

"So," Seungcheol continues, "tell me, was this some elaborate game? Give me your number, wait for me to text, then just ghost me?"

"I didn’t ghost you. I just never texted in the first place."

"Exactly."

You grin, stretching out lazily. "Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d chase."

A pause. Then, in a tone far too smug for your liking "So you like being chased?"

Your stomach does a stupid little flip, but you refuse to let him know that. "I like seeing who puts in effort," you reply smoothly.

"And? Impressed yet?"

"You’re getting there," you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles, a low, satisfied sound. "Good. Then meet me for dinner."

You blink. "What?"

"Dinner," he repeats, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "You know, a meal? Where two people sit down, talk, and eat?"

"I know what dinner is," you snort. "I just wasn’t expecting you to be so forward."

"You made me hunt you down," he says. "You don’t get to act surprised." Okay. Fair.

"Alright, then," you say, biting your lip to contain your grin. "Pick me up at eight."

And just like that, Choi Seungcheol is taking you to dinner. And at exactly 7:59, your phone buzzes.

Seungcheol: I’m outside.

You glance at the time and snort. Of course, he’s punctual.

Grabbing your purse, you take one last look in the mirror before heading out. As soon as you step outside, you spot Seungcheol leaning casually against his car. A sleek, black beauty that looks just as effortlessly expensive as he does.

His eyes sweep over you as you approach, and he smirks. "You clean up nice."

You arch a brow. "I always look nice."

"Cocky."

Once he’s in the driver’s seat, he glances at you. "Comfortable?"

You hum, running a hand over the buttery leather seats. "Not bad. I guess your car is alright."

Seungcheol scoffs. "You guess? This car is a masterpiece."

You grin. "I’m sure it’s great at making up for other shortcomings."

He barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulls onto the road. "You just can’t help yourself, can you?"

"It’s a gift," you say sweetly.

He glances at you, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You really made me work for this date."

"You chased," you remind him.

"And you liked it."

You pretend to consider. "A little."

He huffs a quiet laugh. "Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping."

You meet his gaze, and for once, you don’t have a witty comeback. Seungcheol pulls up to a sleek high-rise, handing his keys off to the valet like it’s second nature. You step out, glancing up at the towering building, the city lights reflecting off the glass.

You give him a sideways look. “Fancy.”

He smirks. The elevator ride is smooth and silent, except for the way Seungcheol occasionally glances at you. When the doors open, you step into a dimly lit, impossibly exclusive restaurant. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the glittering skyline, the city sprawling below like something out of a movie.

A host greets you by name before leading you to a table near the window. You raise an eyebrow. “How did you even get a reservation here?”

Seungcheol just shrugs, sliding into his seat. “I have my ways.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He leans back, studying you with that same amused smirk. “You like it?”

It’s stunning, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction just yet. “It’s alright.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

The waiter arrives, and Seungcheol orders without even glancing at the menu. You squint at him. “You come here often?”

“Not really. Just know what’s good.”

“So, what, you bring all your dates here?”

Seungcheol sets down his glass, eyes locked onto yours. “No.”

You tilt your head. “No?”

He shakes his head. “You’re the first.”

Your stomach does something stupid and traitorous, but you keep your expression cool. “Guess I should feel special.”

His lips quirk up. “You should.”

And damn it, for once, you do. As the waiter leaves, Seungcheol leans forward, swirling the dark liquid in his glass before giving you an all-too-amused look.

“So, I heard something interesting from Mingyu.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s never a good sign.” 

“Apparently, you have a reputation.”

You take a slow sip of your drink. “Do I?”

Seungcheol smirks. “Something about being a ‘man hater,’ quote-unquote.”

You nearly choke. “Oh, for the love of—” You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary. “I am not a man hater.”

He rests his chin on his hand, clearly entertained. “Mingyu made it sound pretty serious.”

You roll your eyes. “Mingyu is dramatic. I just—” You gesture vaguely. “—don’t waste my time with idiots.”

“So, most men are idiots?”

You sigh, giving him a pointed look. “Look, I just have high standards. That doesn’t make me a man hater.” You pick up your drink, muttering, “Mingyu talks too much.”

Seungcheol just laughs, looking way too pleased with himself. You lean back in your chair, twirling the stem of your wine glass between your fingers, watching him with a knowing smirk.

"You know," you start casually, "I heard something about you too."

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

You nod. "Apparently, you’re the guy who turns down women without a second thought."

He hums, taking a sip of his drink before setting it down. "Mingyu, again?"

"Maybe."

He smirks. "He really needs a hobby."

"Don’t change the subject," you tease, tilting your head. "So, is it true?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watches you for a moment, like he’s deciding how much to say. "Depends," he finally says.

"On what?"

"On what you think ‘true’ means."

You narrow your eyes. "That sounds like something a guy who’s absolutely guilty would say."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. "Look, I’m not some heartless bastard. I just don’t waste time on something I know won’t go anywhere."

You cross your arms. "And what exactly makes you so sure it won’t go anywhere?"

He shrugs, voice even. "You can tell when someone only wants you for the wrong reasons."

Something about the way he says it makes you pause. It’s not cocky. It’s just… matter-of-fact.

You watch him carefully. "So, what, they just like the idea of you?"

He meets your gaze, unreadable. "Something like that."

You hold his stare, and for a moment, the teasing dies down, replaced by something heavier. Something real. Then, because you refuse to let things get too serious too quickly, you click your tongue.

"Damn," you say, shaking your head. "And here I was thinking you were just playing hard to get."

Seungcheol laughs, the tension breaking. "And yet, you still showed up."

You grin. "Guess I like a challenge, too."

He lifts his glass toward you in a silent toast.

"Good," he murmurs, eyes dark with amusement. "I’d be disappointed if you didn’t."

The food was amazing, company even better. He’s funny without trying, you don’t think you laughed that much in a while. And a guy being the reason? A miracle truly. 

He’s driving you back home leaning back in the passenger seat, comfortably full from dinner, when his voice cuts through the quiet.

"So." His fingers drum lazily against the wheel. "Why didn’t you text me?"

You glance at him, feigning innocence. "Text you?"

He gives you a look. "You know. After that first night."

You smirk, tilting your head. "Ohhh, you mean when you wrote your number on my arm like some overconfident frat boy?"

Seungcheol scoffs, but his lips twitch. "I was being resourceful."

"Sure." You shrug. "Guess I just wasn’t in a rush."

He raises an eyebrow. "Weren’t interested?"

"I didn’t say that."

"Didn’t not say it either."

You chuckle. "Alright, fine. Maybe I just wanted to see how serious you were."

Seungcheol hums. "So, making me track down your friends and practically interrogate Mingyu was a test?"

You flash him a grin. "And you passed."

He glances at you, amusement glinting in his eyes. "I knew you were trouble."

"You knew," you agree, smirking. "And yet, here you are."

Seungcheol shakes his head, but there’s no hiding the way his lips curl up. "Yeah," he murmurs, like it’s more to himself than to you. "Here I am."

You don’t tell anyone about the dinner. Not because you’re trying to be secretive, but because there’s nothing to tell. At least, that’s what you tell yourself but the others notice something.

"You’re in a good mood," Jihyo says one afternoon, squinting at you suspiciously over her coffee.

You blink. "Am I not allowed to be?"

"You are," she says slowly. "It’s just unusual."

Mingyu chimes in from across the table. "Yeah, you haven’t made fun of me once today. It’s kinda weirding me out."

You roll your eyes. "You want me to insult you?"

"Lowkey, yeah."

Jeonghan, who’s been scrolling through his phone this whole time, suddenly looks up. "Wait. You are acting different."

Irene nods, narrowing her eyes. "Yeah. You’re… less murdery. "You know." She gestures vaguely. "Less I’ll kill a man if he looks at me the wrong way."

You groan. "You guys are so dramatic."

"Okay, so what happened?" Jihyo presses.

"Nothing."

Jeonghan smirks. "That means something." Four pairs of eyes immediately narrow at you.

"Who is it?" Jeonghan adds, grinning like a wolf. "Oh, wait—" His eyes gleam with mischief. "Who’s the poor bastard?"

You roll your eyes. "There is no bastard. Poor or otherwise."

"She’s deflecting," Jihyo announces.

Mingyu leans forward. "It’s Seungcheol, isn’t it?"

You don’t react. Not visibly but the millisecond of silence is enough. Jeonghan’s grin explodes.

"Ohhhh, no way." Mingyu screeches.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. You should’ve known. You deny, deny, deny until they finally give up, though not without a lot of suspicious side-eyes and unnecessary winks from Jeonghan.

By the time they stop prying, you think you’re in the clear.

That is, until Friday night.

It’s just supposed to be a normal night out—drinks, chaos, and Mingyu probably embarrassing himself at some point. The usual.

But then you see him.

Seungcheol.

And he’s not alone. You clock him the moment you step into the bar, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, looking ridiculously good in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s mid-laugh, talking to someone. Looks like a close friend. 

You don’t react, keeping your expression neutral, but Jeonghan notices immediately.

"Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?" he asks, following your gaze.

And because the universe is cruel, that’s the exact moment Seungcheol glances over and meets your eyes. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his lips.

Jeonghan watches it all happen. His eyes widen before he turns to you, grinning like the menace he is. "Oh. My. God."

Mingyu, of course, is oblivious. "Drinks first!" he announces, leading the group toward an open spot by the bar.

Irene and Jihyo follow easily, already deep in conversation, but you feel Jeonghan at your side. His eyes are glinting. You just know he’s about to be a problem.

"You know," he says casually, "for someone who ‘definitely did not go on a date with Seungcheol,’ you two sure looked like you have history."

You don’t even blink. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jeonghan snickers. "Right. And I’m a law-abiding citizen." You ignore him, signaling the bartender for a drink.

Everything is fine or at least it was until Seungcheol and his friend start making their way over. You don’t react. But you know Jeonghan notices the way you straighten up, the way your fingers tap once against the bar before going still.

His friend gets there first, smiling easily at the group. "Hey," he greets. "Didn’t know you guys were coming out tonight."

Mingyu perks up. "Joshua Hong! What’s up?" He claps Joshua's shoulder, immediately pulling him into conversation.

And that’s when he speaks.

"Small world, huh?"

You refuse to turn your head too fast, refuse to let your body react. Instead, you sip your drink first, then glance to the side. Seungcheol is looking at you like he knows something..

You raise an eyebrow. "Not really. Bars exist."

Mingyu, bless him, is still too caught up in talking to Joshua to notice the undercurrent of whatever is happening here. Irene and Jihyo are watching, though. They’re pretending to be casual, but you can feel their curiosity.

Seungcheol doesn’t drop it. He leans slightly closer, just enough for his voice to drop between the two of you. "You avoiding me?"

"Why would I do that?"

He tilts his head, pretending to think. "Maybe because someone went on a date with me and then acted like it never happened."

Jeonghan is eating this up. He’s watching like it’s his favorite drama, sipping his drink with barely concealed glee.

You sip your drink again, unfazed. "Must not have been that memorable then."

Seungcheol laughs like, full-on laughs and somehow that’s worse than if he had been annoyed.

"Oh, this is fun," he murmurs, shaking his head.

"You need better hobbies," you reply dryly.

"You’re right. I should pick up dating mysterious, difficult women who don’t text back."

You glance at him. "So you’re saying I’m a challenge?"

He smirks. "I’m saying I like challenges."

Your lips curve, but you don’t let the smile take over. You turn back to your drink instead and just like that, the moment passes. Instead, he just slides into conversation with the rest of the group like nothing happened. Like he’s not already thinking about the next time he’ll get you alone.

The night goes on as if nothing happened. As if Seungcheol didn’t just throw you off balance with his ridiculous smirk and infuriatingly charming presence. But then, when Seungcheol and Joshua drift off to another part of the bar, Jihyo pounces.

"Okay, explain."

You feign ignorance, sipping your drink. "Explain what?"

Irene scoffs. "Don’t play dumb. You were literally just flirting with him."

You roll your eyes. "I was not."

"That was the most obvious non-flirting flirting I’ve ever seen," Jihyo insists. "And I’ve known Jeonghan for years."

Jeonghan smirks. "She’s right, you know."

Mingyu, now finally catching up, furrows his brows. "Wait. Are we talking about Seungcheol?"

"No, we’re talking about your ability to be dense," Irene says, exasperated

Jihyo leans in. "I thought you wanted him."

You groan, rubbing your temples. "I do."

She blinks. "Then what’s the problem?"

You sigh. "That’s the problem."

Mingyu looks confused. "Wait, I’m lost."

Irene pats his arm. "Sweetie, this is grown-up business." This makes Mingyu glare at him, jokingly pushing her sideways

Mingyu scowls. "I am grown!"

"You’re a puppy," Jeonghan corrects.

Meanwhile, Jihyo is still staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. "So you want him, but that’s the problem."

"Yes."

She stares harder. "You’re gonna have to give me more than that."

You huff, crossing your arms. "Look, it’s one thing to think a guy is hot. It’s another to actually want to do something about it. And it’s another thing entirely when that guy is Seungcheol."

Jeonghan hums. "Because he’s…?"

"Because he’s Seungcheol." You gesture vaguely. "Effortlessly hot. Stupidly charming. A literal menace who just gets whatever he wants without even trying."

Jihyo raises an eyebrow. "And that’s… bad?"

You exhale. "It’s bad because I don’t lose. And I will lose against him."

There’s a beat of silence. Then Jeonghan bursts out laughing.

"Oh, my God," he wheezes, clutching his stomach. "This is amazing."

Mingyu blinks. "I still don’t get it."

Irene sighs, shaking her head. "She’s afraid he’s gonna wreck her life."

Mingyu tilts his head. "That’s dramatic."

Jihyo just smirks. "So what’s your plan?"

You sigh. "I don’t have one." And that? That’s the real problem.

It happens when you least expect it. One second, you’re at the bar with Jihyo, fending off yet another round of questioning. The next Seungcheol is there.

"Can I borrow her for a second?" he asks smoothly, voice just low enough that only you can hear the real intent behind it.

Jihyo raises a brow, eyes flickering between the two of you. You can practically hear her thoughts. But before she can say anything, Seungcheol’s hand finds yours then he’s pulling you away.

You follow, weaving through the crowd until he tugs you into a small corner of the bar. A photobooth. You barely register it before he pulls the curtain shut behind you. The space is tiny. Cramped. You can feel the heat of him, too close, too intoxicating.

"You could’ve just asked to talk," you say, leaning against the side of the booth like you’re not at all affected.

Seungcheol smirks, eyes flickering down to your lips for just a second. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Your pulse jumps. "You like making things difficult, don’t you?"

"I could say the same about you."

You roll your eyes, but the way he’s looking at you—steady, knowing, amused as hell—makes it hard to breathe.

"So," he says, voice softer now, more serious, "why didn’t you text me?"

You exhale, meeting his gaze. "Because I knew you’d find a way to track me down anyway."

"You think you have me figured out?"

You tilt your head, letting the silence stretch before you answer. "I think you don’t like losing."

Seungcheol watches you for a beat. Then he laughs. It’s soft at first, then full and deep, shaking his shoulders as he shakes his head. "God," he mutters, "I should’ve found you sooner."

Your chest tightens. The photobooth timer starts blinking.

3…

His gaze dips—

2…

You don’t move away

1.

The camera clicks.So does something else between you.

The next day at work, you’re in a mood. You glare at your computer. You glare at your coffee. You glare at the innocent potted plant on your desk. And your friends notice.

Jeonghan doesn’t ask immediately. He waits until you’re both in line at the café, you’re scrolling through your phone, pretending you don’t notice him watching you.

"So," he says casually, "when are you seeing him again?"

You freeze. Your finger hovers over your screen. You don’t look at him, but you can feel his smirk. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jeonghan hums. "Sure you don’t."

You take a deep breath. "Nothing happened."

"See, I know that’s a lie," he says, stepping forward as the line moves. "Because if nothing happened, you wouldn’t be acting like a walking existential crisis."

You scowl. "I am not—"

"—a walking existential crisis?" Jeonghan interrupts, raising a brow. "Oh, please. You’ve been glitching all morning."

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. "You’re being dramatic."

"Am I?" He crosses his arms. "Because if I recall correctly, you’re the one who wanted him at first sight."

You click your tongue, shifting your weight. "And that’s the problem."

Jeonghan leans in slightly, intrigued. "Because?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Because I’m hot and cold about this, okay? One second, I want to see where this goes. The next, I’m ready to vanish into the void."

He blinks. "So you like him."

You hesitate. "I—"

Jeonghan’s smirk returns. "Oh, you so like him."

You glare. "I barely know him."

"But you want to," he points out.

You exhale, dragging a hand down your face. "That’s exactly the problem. I don’t get like this."

Jeonghan nods slowly, as if considering. "So what I’m hearing is… Seungcheol has you shook."

You groan, stepping forward as the line moves again. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"Debatable."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Look, you can keep overthinking this, or you can just let yourself have some fun." He tilts his head. "Unless you’re scared?"

You bristle. "I’m not scared."

His smile widens. "Maybe. Or maybe you’ve just met your match." You stare at him, but before you can argue, the barista calls your order.

Jeonghan winks. "Think about it."

"This," you say flatly, "is why I hate most men."

Jeonghan snickers. "Oh, so you admit you don’t hate all men?"

You glare at him over the rim of your cup. "Unfortunately, some of you have managed to slip through the cracks."

He hums thoughtfully. "And would you say Seungcheol is one of those ‘slip through the cracks’ cases?"

You almost choke on your drink. "Jeonghan," you say warningly.

"Just saying," he muses, blowing on his coffee

You scoff. "Oh, please."

But then you hesitate because, damn it, he has a point. You liked Seungcheol immediately. One look, and you wanted him. And that never happens. It’s annoying. It’s unnerving. And the worst part? Seungcheol knows it.

It’s been a long day. You step out of the building, already thinking about what to make for dinner when you see him.

Seungcheol leaning against his car like he’s posing for a magazine, arms crossed, watching you with an amused tilt of his head. You stop in your tracks.

He smirks.

"Busy?" he asks, pushing off the car as you approach.

You narrow your eyes. "How did you know I was here?"

“Mingyu” you mutter under your breath how you’re going to kill the 6 foot tall man tomorrow. 

Seungcheol chuckles. "Be nice. I was gonna find you eventually."

You glare. "That’s not the point."

He tilts his head. "Then what is?"

You open your mouth then close it. Because, honestly? You’re not sure. Why does he keep coming back? And why the hell do you feel kind of excited that he’s here?

Seungcheol watches you wrestle with your thoughts, then grins. "You gonna invite me up?"

"To my apartment?"

"Where else?"

You fold your arms. "That’s bold."

He steps closer, just enough that you catch the faintest whiff of his cologne. "I don’t like wasting time."

Your heart skips. You should tell him to leave. You should ignore how good he looks in that damn suit. Instead you sigh. "Fine. But if you track me down again because of Mingyu, I’m sending both of you to hell."

Seungcheol grins. "Deal."

The entire drive back to your place is infuriating.

Seungcheol is smiling, smirking, even, like he just won some kind of game. Meanwhile, you’re glaring out the window, arms crossed, regretting every decision that led to this moment. When he finally pulls up to your building, you let out a deep breath, like you’ve just survived something mentally exhausting.

"You always this grumpy?" Seungcheol teases as he steps out of the car.

You shoot him a look. "You always this persistent?"

He just grins. You roll your eyes, leading him up to your apartment. The moment you step inside, you toe off your shoes, toss your bag onto the couch, and grab your phone.

"I’m ordering food," you announce, already scrolling through your go-to delivery app. Seungcheol follows you in, looking around like he’s taking mental notes.

"Nice place," he comments, settling onto your couch like he’s been here before.

You glance at him. "You say that like you weren’t planning to judge it."

And before you can stop yourself, you ask, "Why are you doing this?"

Seungcheol looks at you, head tilting slightly. "Doing what?"

You sigh, turning to fully face him. "This." You motion between the two of you. "Showing up. Finding my number. Tracking me down." For a second, he just watches you. Like he’s figuring something out. Then, he leans back, resting an arm over the couch.

"So this is why they call you the man hater."

You blink. "Excuse me?"

“You’re suspicious of a guy just because he likes you?"

You stare at him, trying to come up with a solid counterargument, something to wipe that smug look off his face.

"Weren’t you the one who approached me first?" Seungcheol asks, raising a brow.

You freeze because technically, yes. You were. That night at the bar, it was you who walked up to him. You who spoke first. You who, despite your reputation of never being impressed by men, took one look at him and wanted him.

And Seungcheol, the same man who apparently turns down women without a second thought, didn’t turn you away. And now? He’s here. Sitting on your couch. Acting like this is just the natural order of things.

"You’re twisting my words," you argue, folding your arms.

"Am I?"

You narrow your eyes. "I approached you because I was curious."

He tilts his head. "And now?"

Every interaction with him has been throwing you off your game. You’re used to being in control but with Seungcheol, it’s like every move he makes is intentional, and he’s too good at getting under your skin.

"You’re annoying," you finally say.

He smirks. "And yet, here I am."

You let out a slow exhale, rolling your eyes. "I should’ve ignored your number that night."

Seungcheol watches your expression shift, and something about it amuses him. "You always like this?"

"Like what?"

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Fighting yourself."

You stare at him. "I don’t—"

"You do," he interrupts, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "You’re hot and cold with me, and I think it’s because you don’t like how much you want this."

You hate that he’s right.

"You are so—"

"Annoying?" He grins. "You’ve said."

"Why are you even interested?"

“I like you."

Your heart skips but you refuse to let him see that. So instead, you exhale, shaking your head as you tap at your phone. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you like that," he counters. You pretend you don’t hear him as you place the order.

The food arrives, and you both settle in to eat. Seungcheol sits across from you, comfortably digging into his meal like he belongs here. Like he hasn’t been pushing your buttons all night.

You, on the other hand? You’re still glaring.

He looks up mid-bite, noticing your expression, and smirks. "You always eat like you’re plotting a murder?"

You stab at your food with a little more force than necessary. "Just considering my options."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You should really work on your intimidation tactics."

You huff. "They work on everyone else."

"Ah," he nods, chewing thoughtfully. "So I’m special."

You pause. Damn it. "That’s not what I—"

He holds up a hand, cutting you off. "Don’t worry, I get it. I’m persistent, irritatingly charming, and you don’t know what to do with that."

You scowl. "I know exactly what to do with that."

He raises a brow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You gesture to the door. "Kick you out." Seungcheol laughs. Full-bodied, genuine, like you’re the most entertaining thing he’s come across in a long time. You hate how nice it sounds.

"Okay," he says, still grinning. "I’ll leave—after we finish eating."

You squint. "You act like you’re doing me a favor."

He smirks. "Aren’t I?"

You refuse to dignify that with a response. Instead, you focus on your food, pointedly ignoring how Seungcheol watches you with that infuriatingly amused expression, like he already knows he’ll see you again.

After dinner you walk him to the door, arms crossed, your glare still very much in place. Seungcheol, in contrast, looks ridiculously satisfied, like he’s had the best night of his life just bothering you.

You stop at the door, unlocking it before turning to him with a deadpan expression.

"I changed my mind," you announce.

His brows lift slightly. "About what?"

"I don’t like you anymore."

Seungcheol grins. Like full-on, dimple-showing, teeth-flashing grin.

"That so?" he hums, stepping just a little closer, enough that you have to tilt your head to keep eye contact.

Your jaw tightens. "Yes."

He tilts his head slightly, watching you with the same entertained look he’s had all night.

"That’s a shame," he murmurs.

You cross your arms tighter. "Why?"

"Because," he leans in, voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch, "I still like you." He pulls back, opens the door himself, and steps out. 

"Goodnight," he says, like this is just routine now. Leaving you standing there, your heart beating entirely too fast, absolutely furious that he got the last word.

The next morning, you stomp out of your building and slide into Jeonghan’s car with more force than necessary.

Jeonghan barely glances at you before pulling out onto the street. "Good morning to you too."

You cross your arms, scowling at the window. "I hate him."

"Who?"

You don’t answer right away, mostly because admitting it feels like a loss. But then, under your breath "Seungcheol."

Jeonghan laughs. "You know, for someone who supposedly hates men, you’re really bad at resisting this one."

"I’m not—" You pause. "He’s just—annoying."

"And yet," Jeonghan drawls, "here you are, grumbling his name first thing in the morning."

You shoot him a glare. "Drive the damn car, Jeonghan."

He grins wider, turning up the radio. "Whatever you say, lovergirl."

You get to your desk, ready to start your day with the same level of annoyance you’ve carried since last night and then you see them. A bouquet. Right there. Sitting in the middle of your desk. Jeonghan, who’s still walking behind you, lets out a low whistle. "Oh, would you look at that?"

You drop your bag, snatch up the little card attached, and read it twice just to be sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

Try again. I think you still like me. —S.C.

Your eye twitches. Jeonghan, blatantly reading over your shoulder, bursts out laughing.

"Oh, this is amazing," he says, delighted. "I’ve never seen someone get under your skin this fast."

You slam the card down, glaring at the flowers like they’re the true enemy. "I hate him."

"You’ve mentioned." Jeonghan plucks one of the flowers from the bouquet, twirling it between his fingers. "So what are you gonna do?"

You grab the bouquet with way too much force, march over to Mingyu’s desk, and shove it onto his table. Mingyu, who was minding his own damn business, blinks in confusion. "Uh—?"

"They’re yours now," you say, turning away.

"But—"

"You’re welcome!" you call over your shoulder, marching back to your desk. Jeonghan watches the entire thing with an evil smirk.

"You really think that’s gonna stop him?" he muses.

You drop into your chair, arms crossed. "I don’t care."

Meanwhile, across town Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Joshua with a smirk.

"She gave them to Mingyu?"

Joshua, who had just finished relaying the entire story from Mingyu’s frantic texts, sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She didn’t even hesitate."

Seungcheol chuckles, clearly not deterred. "Figures."

Joshua gives him a look. "You sound way too happy about that."

"Because I am," Seungcheol says simply.

Joshua stares. "You just got rejected via floral delivery, and you’re smiling."

Seungcheol shrugs, completely unbothered. "She reacted."

Joshua raises a brow. "That’s your takeaway?"

"Of course," Seungcheol leans forward, tapping his fingers against his desk. "If she really didn’t care, she would’ve ignored them. But instead, she marched across the office, gave them to Mingyu, and made sure I’d hear about it."

Joshua squints. "That’s…a reach."

Seungcheol just grins. "Is it?"

Joshua sighs, already exhausted. "Okay, so what’s the plan now, lover boy?"

Seungcheol picks up his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he lands on the one he had personally gotten from Mingyu last week. Your phone buzzes on your desk, and you glance at it once. Then you freeze because there, bright as day, Seungcheol.

Your fingers twitch. You shouldn’t pick up. In fact, you should do the responsible thing and ignore him completely but then the call keeps ringing, like he knows you’re staring at it, like he’s waiting for you to break.

You almost ignore it..Almost. With an annoyed huff, you snatch up the phone and answer.

"What."

A low chuckle greets you from the other end. "That’s no way to greet your boyfriend."

Your entire body jerks. "Excuse me?"

"Ah," Seungcheol hums, clearly amused. "Too soon?"

"Way too soon," you deadpan. "And completely delusional."

"And yet, here you are, answering my call."

Your eye twitches. "Do you want something, or are you just here to waste my time?"

"Both," he admits easily.

You resist the urge to throw your phone. "Seungcheol."

"Fine, fine," he laughs. "Just wanted to check if my flowers got delivered."

You glare at nothing. "Oh, they did."

"And?"

"And they now belong to Mingyu." There’s a beat of silence then he’s laughing. And you hate it, you hate how good it sounded. 

“You’re so cute when you’re difficult."

You hang up immediately and then proceed to glare at your phone like it’s personally betrayed you. Across the room, Jeonghan watches your entire reaction unfold, smirk growing wider by the second.

"So," he drawls, "how’s your boyfriend?"

You launch a stress ball at his head.

Later that night, Jeonghan is sprawled out on your couch, one arm slung over his face as he lazily kicks at the air.

"You got any more of those fancy chips?" he asks.

You barely glance up from your phone. "Pantry."

"Ugh. Too far."

"You have legs."

He groans dramatically, but he doesn’t move. You roll your eyes and keep scrolling, ignoring him—until his voice turns serious.

"Alright," he says, sitting up. "All jokes aside—what’s going on?"

You pause, side-eyeing him. "What?"

Jeonghan leans forward, elbows on his knees, studying you in a way that makes you shift uncomfortably.

"You said it yourself that you wanted him," he says, voice softer now. "So why are you acting like this?"

Because you’ve been here before. Because the last time you really liked someone, you got your hopes up, and it all went to shit. Because you’ve learned the hard way that people say one thing and do another, that words mean nothing without action.

Jeonghan knows this. He’s been there through it all—through the flings, the almost-relationships, the guys who were great until they weren’t. He was there when you decided you were done trying, when you shrugged off love like it was an optional extra, not something you needed.

Now, he’s watching you like he’s seeing through you.

"You’re scared," he says simply.

You scoff. "I am not—"

"You are," he cuts in. "And I get it. But you can’t keep pushing people away just because they might disappoint you."

You bite your lip, looking away.

"Seungcheol isn’t them," Jeonghan continues. "And I don’t think he’s gonna give up just because you’re being difficult."

"...Maybe he should."

Jeonghan chuckles, but it’s not mocking. "Too bad for you, I don’t think he will."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "He will."

Jeonghan raises a brow, amused. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," you say firmly. "He’s rich, good-looking, and clearly used to getting what he wants. Guys like him don’t chase for long. The second I make it too much work, he’ll move on."

Jeonghan just smirks, shaking his head. "That’s cute. You think you’re hard to want."

You glare. "Don’t analyze me. I am not dealing with another guy who’s all interest at first and then disappears the moment things get real."

Jeonghan hums, watching you for a moment. Then, with a knowing glint in his eyes, he asks, "So if he doesn’t disappear?"

You blink.

"If he doesn’t give up," Jeonghan says, leaning closer. "If he keeps showing up, keeps proving you wrong—then what?"

You press your lips together, refusing to answer. Because you don’t know.

Jeonghan’s words replay in your head for the next couple of days. You try to brush them off, but they stick. if he doesn’t give up, then what?

But then, Seungcheol stops contacting you.No texts. No calls. No annoying flower deliveries. And in your mind, you’re like, See? I was right.

You told Jeonghan exactly how this would go. Guys like Seungcheol don’t chase for long. They get bored, they move on, they—

Knock, knock.

Your head snaps toward the door, heart inexplicably jumping. It’s late. You’re already in pajamas, wrapped in a blanket on your couch, halfway through a show you weren’t even paying attention to. The knocking comes again.

Slowly, you get up and pull open the door and there he is.

Seungcheol stands in front of you, looking annoyingly good despite the slight exhaustion in his eyes. He’s wearing a dark coat over a fitted sweater, and there’s an expensive-looking suitcase at his feet.

And in his hand a snow globe.

You blink. "What…?"

"Hey," he says, Just got back from a business trip."

You stare at him. "A business trip."

"Yeah." He lifts the snow globe slightly. "Paris.".

"You brought me a souvenir?"

Seungcheol smirks. "What, you think I’d go all the way to Paris and not bring you something?"

"I—" You pause, suddenly feeling very warm despite the cold draft from the open door. "I just—"

"You thought I gave up," he says simply.

Your stomach flips. You cross your arms, standing a little straighter. "Maybe."

For a second, neither of you say anything. Then, before your brain can catch up, you reach out slow, hesitant and take the snow globe from his hand.

"...Thanks," you mumble.

Seungcheol grins. "You’re welcome."

You step aside, wordlessly letting him in. Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, walking past you like he belongs there. 

"Why do you always look like you want to fight me?" he asks, amused.

"I don’t," you say flatly.

"You do," he counters, dropping onto your couch like it’s his. "You’ve been glaring at me since the day we met."

You cross your arms. "Maybe it’s just my face."

"It’s cute."

You narrow your eyes. "Don’t start."

Seungcheol laughs, stretching out comfortably. "You gonna offer me a drink or just keep staring at me?"

You inhale sharply, fighting the urge to throw him out. Instead, you turn and march into the kitchen, grabbing two glasses of water. When you return, he’s still lounging on your couch, completely at home.

You set his glass down with a little too much force. "Here."

Seungcheol picks it up, giving you a slow, knowing look. "You’re really bad at this," he says.

"At what?"

"Letting yourself like me." You almost choke on your own water. And Seungcheol? He just smiles.

He takes a slow sip of his water, watching you over the rim of the glass like he’s studying you. Then, like he can read your mind, he says, "Before you start spiraling—I didn’t text because I was busy. Meetings from morning to night, different time zones, clients to entertain. I barely slept, let alone had time to talk."

You blink. "I didn’t ask," you say, defensive.

He smirks. "Then don’t overthink."

You open your mouth to argue because you were not overthinking, thank you very much—but he just keeps going.

"I was in Paris for four days. Mostly business, but I had a few hours to walk around. Thought about you when I saw that snow globe."

Your stomach flips against your will. You grip your glass tighter. "You—what?"

"I thought you’d like it," he says simply. "Or maybe you'd just glare at it. Either way, it reminded me of you."

You stare at him, lips parting slightly because what the hell is he even saying? Because he says it like it’s not a big deal. Like it’s normal to have you on his mind while he’s halfway across the world. So, naturally, you do what you do best—deflect.

"You just showed up at my place," you say, voice carefully flat. "What if I wasn’t home?"

Seungcheol grins. "Then I’d have waited."

"Like a stalker?"

"Like a guy who wants to see you."

Your brain short-circuits.You scramble for something anything to say, but he beats you to it.

"You really don’t get it, do you?"

You frown. "Get what?"

He leans forward, setting his glass down on the coffee table, and your whole body tenses when he holds your gaze. "I don’t do things halfway," he says. "I wanted you from the start. That hasn’t changed."

And suddenly, you’re overthinking again. You fold your arms across your chest, keeping your expression carefully neutral. "You're just saying that because you like the chase."

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "And you're saying that because you want me to think you're still a man hater."

"Excuse me?" you say, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugs, completely unfazed. "You keep acting like you don’t care, like you’re waiting for me to mess up so you can say ‘See? I told you so.’ But you’re just trying to protect yourself."

He’s too damn perceptive. Too calm, too confident in the way he calls you out.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," you mutter, looking away.

Seungcheol scoffs. "I do, actually."

He leans forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. "You liked me the second you saw me," he says, voice lower now, smoother. "And that scared the hell out of you."

Your breath catches because he’s right. You hate that he’s right. And the worst part? He sees it. You don’t answer. That's when Seungcheol does something you don’t expect. He stands up. And just like that, the whole atmosphere shifts. The teasing glint in his eyes is gone, replaced with something steadier. Something serious.

"If you don’t want me here, say the word and I’ll leave."

You swallow hard. Your fingers tighten around the edge of your sweater. Because this is it. The out you’ve been waiting for. The chance to end this before you get in too deep.

Your voice is quieter than you intend when you say, "If I do, will you leave?"

Seungcheol watches you, his gaze unwavering. "Yes." You know he’s telling the truth. He’s not the kind of guy to stick around where he isn’t wanted.

"You won’t fight for it?" you ask, hating how vulnerable the words sound.

A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "I already am."

Your breath catches because damn him. Damn him for saying things like that. Damn him for not pushing, not forcing, just waiting. 

So instead, you exhale, looking away. "Sit down, you’re making me nervous."

Seungcheol smiles and just like that, the tension cracks.

"Yes, ma’am," he teases, sinking back onto the couch like he owns the place.

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your lips betrays you—a slight, reluctant twitch. He sees it, of course. And you don’t miss the satisfied look on his face when he does.

A few days later, Mingyu ruins everything.

“We should go out for drinks,” he says, like it’s just a casual suggestion and not a trap. And like idiots, you all agree. You don’t think anything of it until "By the way," Mingyu adds, far too casually, "I invited Seungcheol."

You freeze.

Mingyu grins, oblivious to the murderous intent in your eyes. "You don’t mind, right?"

Jeonghan snickers. Irene and Jihyo exchange looks.

"Why would she mind?" Irene asks, ever the instigator.

"You’re all insufferable," you mutter, grabbing your drink and pretending you’re unaffected.

You’re going to ignore him. You’re going to sit with your friends, drink, and not think about him. It’s a solid plan.

Then he walks in.

And suddenly, your plan evaporates.

Seungcheol is unfair. Black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, looking effortlessly good in the worst possible way. He steps into the bar with Joshua beside him, scanning the room and then his eyes land on you.

You should play it cool. Pretend to be mad at him. Hold onto your last shred of self-respect but the moment you see him, you walk straight up to him, ignoring the way your friends watch with poorly concealed amusement.

Seungcheol’s lips twitch, like he was expecting this. "Hi."

You scowl. "I hate you."

He grins. "You said that last time. Didn’t sound very convincing then either."

You open your mouth to argue—but you don’t. Because damn it, you don’t hate him at all. So you stare at him, arms crossed, and say, “What, you’re too busy now?”

His smirk deepens. “Didn’t know you’d miss me so much.”

You scoff. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re deflecting.”

He shrugs, completely unbothered. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, so you admit it?”

Seungcheol tilts his head, amused. “Didn’t I text you?”

Your lips press together. Okay, fair point. He did text. A few times.

A "How was your day?"A "Don’t overthink too much." 

Still, you lift your chin. “Texts aren’t the same.”

His brow arches. “So you’re saying you wanted to see me?”

 “That is absolutely not what I said.”

Seungcheol just laughs. “But it’s what you meant.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

His grin is downright infuriating. “You keep saying that, but I don’t think you mean it.”

You spin on your heel. “I’m leaving.”

Seungcheol just laughs, completely unbothered, like he already knows you don’t mean it. He slides into the seat beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“I was busy because of work,” he murmurs, voice smooth, almost apologetic—but not quite. “Wanted to come see you, but I figured you’d be tired after work, too.”

Your eyes narrow. “That’s your excuse?”

He tilts his head, smirking. “It’s the truth.”

You glare harder, hoping it’ll somehow make him squirm. It doesn’t. He just watches you, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting back a laugh.

“So considerate of you,” you say dryly.

He hums. “I try.” Seungcheol, of course, takes that as his cue to get comfortable. He leans back, stretching his arm along the back of the booth—not quite touching you, but close enough.

“You’re still mad,” he observes, sounding entirely too entertained.

“No,” you deadpan. “I’m thrilled.”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath. “You’re cute when you sulk.”

Your head snaps toward him, eyes burning with fresh irritation. “I am not sulking.”

He just grins. “Whatever you say.”

You step out onto the balcony, the night air cool against your skin as you take a deep breath. You just need a moment, one single moment to yourself. Of course, that’s impossible when Seungcheol is involved.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Don’t mind me. I’ll sulk on my own.”

Seungcheol hums as he leans against the railing beside you. “Nah, can’t let that happen.”

You throw him a glare. “And why not?”

He shrugs, watching the city lights with an infuriatingly calm expression. “I’d feel bad.”

You scoff. “Oh, now you feel bad?”

“I’ve always felt bad.”

“You don’t look like you do.”

He tilts his head toward you, smiling slightly. “Alright, what do you want, then?”

You exhale, glancing away. The truth sits heavy on your tongue, but you don’t say it. You’re still you, after all. Instead, you mutter, “For you to stop being annoying.”

A breeze drifts between you, carrying the sounds of laughter from inside. For a second, neither of you speak. Then Seungcheol nudges your arm lightly. “You’re really not gonna admit you missed me, huh?”

You don’t say anything.

His smirk softens into something else. Something dangerous. “I can wait.” He exhales, watching you carefully. The smirk fades, replaced by something quieter. something real.

Then he says it.

“I missed you.”

The words slip out so casually, so effortlessly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your fingers tighten around the railing. Your brain stalls. Your heart does this stupid little flip in your chest. You finally turn to face him, none of the usual teasing or frustration in your expression is just seriousness.

“If it’s going to be like this,” you say, voice steady, “you disappear for days, then coming back like nothing happened then it’s not going to work.”

Seungcheol’s smirk fades completely. He studies you, really looks at you, and you can tell he understands that you’re not just saying this to pick a fight.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” You cross your arms. “You come and then go, then you just show up out of nowhere. Do you expect me to just—” You shake your head. “I don’t play games, Seungcheol.”

“I know,” he says immediately. “I know you don’t.”

You sigh. “Then what are we doing?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then, carefully, “I didn’t think you’d want me to check in like that.”

You blink. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He hesitates. “Because you act like you don’t care half the time.” That stings. Not because he’s wrong, but because he’s right.

You inhale sharply. “That’s just how I am.”

“I know,” he says again, softer this time. “But if I’m going to try with you, I don’t want to be another person you expect to leave.”

Seungcheol holds your gaze, unwavering. “So tell me what you want. What you really want.”

For the first time since this started, you don’t have a comeback. You suddenly feel the urge to leave.

Seungcheol’s words sit heavy in your chest—you act like you don’t care half the time. It stung more than you wanted to admit, and now the whole night feels ruined.

“I’m heading out,” you say abruptly, turning on your heel.

You return inside, Seungcheol following behind you. Jeonghan, ever the observant one, catches on immediately. “Let’s go home yea?” he says, grabbing his coat. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t press. Just sticks by your side, because he knows you.

Mingyu frowns. “Already? But we just—”

“Let her go,” Seungcheol says. His voice is unreadable. You don’t look back. Jeonghan walks you out, calls a ride, and when you’re finally inside the car, he leans back with a sigh.

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

You stare out the window. “No.”

He hums, not pushing further. Instead, when you get home, he stays. Puts on a random movie, hands you a blanket, and lets you sit in silence.

Because Jeonghan knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. He doesn’t look at you right away. He stays focused on the movie, lthen he hears it.

A sniffle.

It’s quiet, barely there, but Jeonghan notices everything.

He doesn’t immediately react, doesn’t turn his head or ask if you’re okay, because he knows you. Knows that if he does, you’ll shut down completely.

“I think I’m screwing it up.”

Jeonghan doesn’t even blink. “With Seungcheol?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” he says, blowing on his own tea. “I figured.”

You furrow your brows. “How?”

He snorts. “Because you’re you.” You glare at him again, but he just drives. Eyes still on the road

“I’m serious,”

“So am I,” he says easily. “You’re panicking because this is probably the first time in a long time that you actually like someone. And instead of dealing with it like a normal person, you’re, well—”

“Ruining it?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Self-sabotaging. But close enough.”

“Great.”

Jeonghan watches you for a moment. Then, softer this time “What did he say to make you leave?”

You hesitate. Then, voice barely above a whisper “That I act like I don’t care.”

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

You snap your head toward him, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You scowl, ready to argue, but then the truth of it hits you.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much. Because Seungcheol wasn’t wrong. Because you do act like you don’t care, even when you do. Because this whole time, you’ve been pushing and pulling, running hot and cold, and yet

Yet, he’s still here. Still choosing you. The realization makes your chest feel uncomfortably tight.

So you do what you always do when it gets too much. You don’t reach out.

Not the next day. Not the day after that. You tell yourself it’s for the best. That it’s easier this way. That Seungcheol will eventually get the hint and move on.

But then why do you feel like absolute shit?

You go through the motions—work, home, repeat—but there’s this persistent weight in your chest that refuses to go away.

It’s easy to avoid Seungcheol, at least. He works across town, and it’s not like you run in the same circles outside of Mingyu dragging him along. Still. You hate how aware you are of his absence. It’s ridiculous, really. You’ve only known him for a few months, but somehow, he’s already made himself at home in your thoughts.

You wonder if he’s given up on you yet. If he’s decided you’re not worth the effort. The thought makes you feel worse.

You almost walk right past him.

Almost.

“Hey.”

Your steps falter. You take a slow breath before turning to him. He’s standing by the entrance of your building, hands in his pockets, looking at you like he’s been waiting.

You scoff. “Oh. Now you know me?”

Seungcheol exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Don’t do that.”

You don’t even know what exactly you’re doing, but you’re already annoyed. “Do what?”

He gives you a flat look. “Push me away.”

You cross your arms. “Maybe you should take the hint, then.”

Seungcheol steps forward. “You don’t want that.”

You step back. “I don’t?”

“You don’t.” You hate that he’s right. That he can see it. That it’s written all over your face no matter how hard you try to deny it and it frustrates you. More than it should.

“Look, Seungcheol,” you sigh, voice heavy with exhaustion. “You can’t just disappear for days and then show up like—”

“Like what?” he interrupts. “Like I actually give a damn about you?” You flinch. It’s not even what he said. It’s how he said it. The sincerity in his voice. The quiet frustration.

You look away. “I didn’t ask you to.”

He laughs under his breath. “Yeah. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

You hate the way he’s looking at you. Like he knows. Like he’s waiting for you to stop fighting him. You shake your head. “You should go.”

But Seungcheol doesn’t move. Instead, he tilts his head, studying you.  “Do you want me to?”

The answer is no but you don’t say it. You can’t stand the way he looks at you, like he’s already figured you out. Like he knows every excuse, every defense mechanism, every wall you put up before you even have the chance to throw them at him.

So you do what you do best. You push.

"Let’s just go back to thinking I don’t care." The words taste bitter, but you swallow them down, turning on your heel before he can say anything else.

You walk away.

One step.

Two.

Three.

You expect him to stop you. To grab your wrist. To call your name again. To say something but he doesn’t.

The air is heavy with everything unsaid, with everything you’re choosing to leave behind. And yet the farther you get, the harder it is to breathe. Your own words echo in your head, louder and louder, until you almost want to take them back.

Almost.

But you don’t.

Because that would mean admitting that he’s right. That you don’t actually want him to leave. That you’ve just been pushing him away because it’s easier than facing what’s really scaring you.

Because if you admit that you care—really, really care—then that means he has the power to hurt you.

And you’re not sure if you can survive that again.

And Seungcheol?

He lets you go.

The next day Jeonghan doesn’t even need to say anything. The moment he sees you step out of your apartment building, he knows. Your eyes are puffy, your hair is a mess, and you look like you barely got any sleep. Like hell, basically.

"So, rough night?" he asks, starting the car. You grunt in response, which tells him enough.

"You wanna talk about it, or should I just let you wallow in silence until you eventually explode?"

"Silence."

"Got it."

The drive is quiet, but Jeonghan sneaks glances at you every now and then. He’s been with you long enough to recognize when you’re doing it again. The overthinking. The self-sabotaging. The pushing away before you can get hurt.

He knows you want Seungcheol. He knows you care. And he knows that you’re terrified of letting yourself have something good.

So when he finally pulls into the parking lot and parks the car, he doesn’t unlock the doors right away. Instead, he turns to you, voice softer this time.

"You look miserable."

"Wow, thanks."

"I mean it. You look like you barely slept. You’re doing that thing where you overthink yourself into a corner and decide for yourself that you’re better off alone before anyone can prove you wrong."

You hate how accurate that is. "I don’t wanna talk about it, Hannie."

"Fine." He unlocks the doors. "But at some point, you’re gonna have to."

You sigh and grab your bag, stepping out of the car. But as you walk toward the building, Jeonghan calls after you.

"Just answer me one thing—if he calls, are you gonna pick up?"

You pause. The fact that you even hesitate tells him everything. Jeonghan watches you, waiting. Maybe hoping. But when you finally speak, your voice is so quiet.

“No.”

It’s not stubborn. It’s not defensive. It’s not even angry. It’s just… defeated. Like every last bit of fight has already drained out of you.

And that is what makes Jeonghan shut up. 

So, even though it kills him to see you like this, he sighs and just says, “Alright. Dropped.”

But Jeonghan doesn’t move right away. He just sits there in the driver’s seat, watching you disappear through the doors. And for the first time in a long time, he wonders if this time—with Seungcheol—maybe you’re making a mistake.

Jeonghan, Jihyo, Mingyu, and Irene are already a few drinks in when Mingyu suddenly stiffens, his eyes narrowing toward the entrance of the bar.

“Oh, shit.”

Jihyo follows his gaze and lets out a low whistle. “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Jeonghan doesn’t even need to look. He already knows. Joshua Hong walks in first, smiling as he exchanges greetings with someone at the bar.

And right behind him? Choi Seungcheol.

It’s been 2 weeks and Seungcheol looks… the same. Maybe a little tired, but still him. The group watches as he follows Joshua toward a table, not even glancing their way.

“Are we going to talk to them?” Irene asks, swirling her drink.

“Should we?” Mingyu hesitates.

Jeonghan sighs, rubbing his temples. He’s been waiting for something like this to happen. Because of course it would. The universe wouldn’t let things be that easy.

Jeonghan exhales, slow and measured, before tossing back the rest of his drink.

“I’ll go.”

Jihyo raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Jeonghan shrugs as he pushes back his chair. “Someone has to.”

Mingyu shifts in his seat. “Want me to—”

“No,” Jeonghan cuts him off, shaking his head. “If it’s just me, he won’t feel cornered.”

They don’t argue. They know Jeonghan well enough to trust him with this. So, with one last glance at the others, Jeonghan straightens his shirt and makes his way across the bar.

“Joshua.”

Joshua turns first, eyebrows lifting in surprise before his lips pull into a smile. “Jeonghan! What a coincidence.”

Seungcheol looks up then, mid-sip of his drink, and his expression flickers—just for a second—before smoothing out. Jeonghan pulls out a chair and sits without asking.

Joshua leans forward, propping his chin on his hand. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight. The others here too?”

Jeonghan ignores the question and turns to Seungcheol instead. “You doing alright?”

Seungcheol stares at him, unreadable. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jeonghan hums, tapping his fingers against the table. “Dunno. Just seems like you haven’t been around much lately.”

Joshua looks between them, lips twitching, but he wisely keeps quiet.

Seungcheol finally exhales, setting his drink down. “Is this about—”

“Of course it’s about her.” Jeonghan doesn’t even let him finish. “You think we wouldn’t notice?”

Seungcheol presses his lips into a thin line.

Jeonghan tilts his head. “She’s been avoiding everything that even remotely reminds her of you. And she’s stubborn as hell, but I know her. She’s not okay.”

Seungcheol’s grip tightens on his glass.

Joshua sighs, leaning back in his chair. “This is why I told you to just talk to her already.”

Seungcheol runs a hand down his face, clearly frustrated. “And say what?”

Jeonghan narrows his eyes. “Say you’re sorry. Say you care. Say literally anything, because she’s convinced herself you don’t.”

Seungcheol exhales sharply. “That’s not—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “She told me to leave.”

“She tells everyone to leave,” Jeonghan deadpans. “And she’s always surprised when they actually do.”

Seungcheol goes quiet. Jeonghan leans forward, voice steady but firm. “If you don’t care, then stay away. But if you do? Do something. Because right now, all you’re doing is proving her right.”

Seungcheol stares down at his drink. Jeonghan watches him, waiting.

And then, after a long moment Seungcheol stands.

Joshua blinks. “Oh? We’re going now?” Seungcheol ignores him, pulling his wallet out and throwing some cash on the table. Then, finally, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Where is she?”

Jeonghan tried calling again. Straight to voicemail.

He frowned. “She’s not answering.”

Seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “Is she home?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan muttered, already pulling up your shared location—but of course, it was off.

Joshua exhaled through his nose. “Maybe she’s asleep?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “She always leaves her phone on, even if she’s mad. If she’s not answering, it means she either doesn’t want to be found or—” He stops himself, lips pressing into a thin line. Seungcheol didn’t need him to finish the sentence. His hands curled into fists.

“Where would she go?” he asked, voice tight.

Jeonghan exchanged a look with Mingyu, who had come over after noticing their conversation.

Mingyu sighed. “There’s a place. She used to go there when she needed to clear her head.”

Seungcheol didn’t waste time asking more. “Where?”

Mingyu hesitated, just for a second. Then, seeing the way Seungcheol was barely holding himself together, he pulled out his phone and sent the location.

“Don’t mess this up,” Mingyu muttered.

Seungcheol was already heading for the door. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he got there, but an old bookstore tucked into a quiet street wasn’t it. The lights inside were dim and warm, casting a soft glow through the large windows. He pushed the door open, the bell above jingling softly. 

An old woman, sitting behind the counter, looked up. She peered at him through her glasses, eyes sharp despite her gentle smile.

“You must be the one,” she said simply.

Seungcheol blinked. “Excuse me?”

The old woman hummed, nodding toward the back. “She’s here. Been here all day.”

He followed her gaze and, sure enough, there you were—curled up in one of the armchairs near the back, a book resting on your lap, though you weren’t reading it. Instead, you were staring out the window, lost in thought.

You felt his presence before you saw him. Maybe it was the way the air shifted, or maybe you had been waiting for him all along, but when he stopped in front of you, you weren’t surprised.

“You’re a hard person to find,” he said quietly.

You closed the book in your lap, fingers tracing the edges of the cover. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be found.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like talking.”

Seungcheol crouched down so he was eye level with you. “Are you okay?”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His eyes were searching, his face unreadable. And for some reason, that made something in your chest tighten.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

He exhaled softly. “Can I sit?”

You didn’t answer, but you moved your legs so there was space on the other armchair beside you. He took the silent invitation, settling in.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet hum of the bookstore surrounded you.

Finally, Seungcheol broke the silence. “Why did you run?”

You frowned. “I didn’t run.”

He gave you a look. “You disappeared. No one could reach you. That’s running.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the chair. “I just needed time.��

“To do what?”

“To think,” you muttered.

Seungcheol tilted his head, watching you closely. “And?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the book. “And I don’t know what to do with you.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I get that a lot.”

“I’m serious.”

His expression softened. “So am I.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. “I don’t know how to do this, Seungcheol. I don’t know how to trust that this won’t end up like before.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, “I’m not whoever hurt you.”

You swallowed. “I know that.”

“Do you?” His voice was gentle, but firm. “Because it seems like you’re punishing me for something I didn’t do.”

Your chest ached. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” he said. “But I need you to at least give me a chance.” You stared at him, searching for any hint of dishonesty. But all you found was sincerity.

The lump in your throat grew. “And if I can’t?”

“Then I’ll wait.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily. “You make it sound so easy.”

He smiled, though there was something sad in it. “It’s not. But I think you’re worth it.”

Your heart stumbled over itself. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t know what to say.

The old lady approached with slow, deliberate steps, her sharp gaze flicking between you and Seungcheol. She had seen you come in and out of this bookstore too many times, always with a heavy heart.

“So,” she said, arms crossing over her chest. “Is this the boy that’s been making you cry?”

You inhaled deeply, forcing a small smile as you shook your head. “All of them do.”

She clicked her tongue, giving Seungcheol a pointed look before patting your shoulder. “Men,” she muttered before walking off, leaving the two of you in tense silence. Seungcheol didn’t speak for a long moment. You knew he was looking at you, but you refused to meet his eyes.

Then, finally, in a quiet voice, he asked, “Did I really make you cry?”

You swallowed, keeping your gaze on the book in your lap. “Why do you care?”

His jaw tensed. “Because I didn’t want to.”

A bitter chuckle slipped out. “That’s funny,” you said, glancing at him now. “Because I remember you saying that I don’t care.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I was angry.”

You nodded slowly, lips pressing together. “So what do you want from me?”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

You turned fully toward him now, frustration bubbling up again. “What do you want, Seungcheol? You say you’ll wait, but for what? You keep coming back even when I push you away. What are you waiting for?”

He stared at you, something flickering behind his eyes. “You.”

You let out a hollow laugh. “You don’t even know me.”

“Yes, I do,” he shot back. “I know you act like you don’t care because you’re afraid. I know you run before anyone gets the chance to hurt you. And I know you like me.”

Your breath hitched.

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping lower. “That’s why you’re trying so hard to convince yourself that I’ll leave.”

You clenched your jaw. “You will.”

Seungcheol exhaled, shaking his head. “I won’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but before you could, another voice interrupted.

“There you are.” You both turned to see Jeonghan standing by the entrance of the bookstore, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. “I was looking for you.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated, glancing at Seungcheol, whose jaw was now clenched.

Jeonghan sighed, looking between the two of you. “You need space,” he said simply. Then, to Seungcheol, he added, “Give it to her.” Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately. His gaze stayed locked on you, searching, waiting but you didn’t say anything.

Finally, he exhaled and stood. “I’ll wait.”

You hated that those words made your chest tighten. Without another glance, you followed Jeonghan out of the bookstore, leaving Seungcheol behind.

The moment you stepped out of the bookstore, Jeonghan let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” you muttered, already knowing what was coming.

“I didn’t say anything yet,” he shot back, but the look he gave you was enough.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” he said, crossing his arms. “Because now I am going to lecture you.”

You groaned. “Jeonghan—”

“No, listen to me.” His tone was sharper than usual, firm in a way that made you stop walking. “You keep doing this thing where you push people away the second they get too close. And I get it, I do. You don’t want to get hurt. But you are the one hurting yourself.”

Your breath caught, but you said nothing.

Jeonghan huffed. “You like him,” he stated, like it was a fact. “And I know you like him because you’re acting like this.”

You scoffed. “That makes no sense.”

He gave you a pointed look. “It does when it’s you.”

You exhaled slowly, looking away. “He’ll leave.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Jeonghan challenged. “Are you really going to throw this away just because you think he might leave?”

You pressed your lips together. “You don’t understand.”

Jeonghan let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, I do. Because I’ve watched you do this over and over again. And I didn’t say anything before because, honestly? Most of those guys weren’t worth it.”

You frowned. “And you think he is?”

Jeonghan tilted his head. “Don’t you? Look, if you really don’t want him, then fine. Walk away. But if you do want him—even just a little—then stop making it so hard for yourself.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly tight.

Jeonghan softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Just think about it, alright?”

You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure if you could so you just nodded, and Jeonghan let it go. For now.

Come morning the next day. Seungcheol sat across from Jeonghan, arms crossed as he studied him. He had been skeptical from the start—why Jeonghan always knew exactly what to say to you, why you let him in when you pushed everyone else away.

“You know a lot about her,” Seungcheol said, voice laced with suspicion. “More than just a friend would.”

Jeonghan smirked, stirring his coffee lazily. “That’s because we’re not just friends.”

Seungcheol’s grip on his cup tightened slightly. He wasn’t sure why that statement irritated him so much, but it did. “Then what are you?”

Jeonghan glanced up at him, watching his reaction carefully before finally saying it.

“She’s my stepsister.”

“What?”

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, sighing like this conversation was long overdue. “Her dad left when she was a kid. It was ugly—messed her up. My dad married her mom when we were in our teens, and suddenly, we were family.”

It made sense now. Why you and Jeonghan were inseparable, why he always seemed to understand you in a way no one else did.

“She doesn’t talk about it,” Jeonghan continued, voice quieter now. “Not to anyone. She pretends it doesn’t affect her, but it does. It’s why she is the way she is. Why she pushes people away before they get too close.”

Seungcheol exhaled, leaning back in his seat. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

Jeonghan met his gaze, all traces of amusement gone. “Because if you’re serious about her, you need to know what you’re up against.”

Now, he understood just how much he had to fight for you. Seungcheol stayed quiet, his mind replaying every interaction he’d had with you. The push and pull, the way you shut him out just when he thought he was getting close. Now, it all made sense.

Jeonghan sighed, watching him carefully before speaking again.

“It’s hard to love her less once you get to know her more.”

Seungcheol’s gaze snapped up, meeting Jeonghan’s knowing eyes.

“That’s why she keeps people at arm’s length,” Jeonghan continued. “Because she knows it too. She’s terrified of people staying just long enough to leave.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply. “And you think I’m just like everyone else?”

Jeonghan smirked, but there was something softer behind it. “I think you’re different. That’s why she’s this scared.”

Seungcheol didn’t sleep much that night.

Jeonghan’s words stayed with him, looping in his mind until he couldn’t ignore them anymore. You weren’t just pushing him away because you wanted to—you were pushing him away because you were scared. Because you expected him to leave.

And if there was one thing Seungcheol hated, it was being predictable.

The next day, he found himself outside your office again, leaning against his car with his arms crossed. He knew your schedule well enough by now, and when he saw you stepping out, he straightened.

You stopped in your tracks the moment you saw him. 

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was flat, but Seungcheol could hear the exhaustion underneath it.

He pushed himself off the car, hands slipping into his pockets. “I needed to see you.”

You exhaled through your nose, already tired of this conversation. “Cheol—”

“No,” he interrupted gently. “This time, just listen.”

Your eyes narrowed, but you didn’t walk away. That was enough for him.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you. “You asked me what I wanted from you. I didn’t answer then, so I’ll answer now.” His voice was steady, unwavering. “I want you. I want every version of you—the one who glares at me, the one who shuts me out, the one who lets her guard down when she thinks no one’s looking.”

“And then what?”

Seungcheol tilted his head slightly. “Then I keep wanting you. Even when you push me away. Even when you tell yourself you don’t care.”

Your jaw tightened, your emotions warring against your better judgment. “I don’t need saving, Seungcheol.”

“I know,” he said easily. “You never did. But you do need someone who stays.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. Seungcheol could see the way your fingers twitched, 

So he softened, just enough. “Jeonghan told me.”

Your breath hitched, and for the first time, Seungcheol saw something other than defiance in your eyes. It was vulnerability, raw and unguarded.

“I don’t pity you,” he said before you could say anything. “I don’t think you’re broken. I just wish you’d let me in.”

You let out a breath, but it wasn’t exasperation this time. It sounded tired. Resigned. “I don’t know how,” you admitted.

Seungcheol gave you a small smile, tilting his head toward his car. “Then let’s figure it out.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to convince yourself this was a bad idea. That you should walk away like you always did.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t.

Instead, you exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

Seungcheol grinned. “And yet, here you are.”

He opened the car door for you, waiting. And after another beat, you got in.

As Seungcheol got into the driver’s seat, you folded your arms and eyed him suspiciously.

“So?” you prompted.

He glanced at you. “So, what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What exactly did Jeonghan tell you?”

Seungcheol tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, as if debating how much to say. “Enough.”

You scoffed. “Right. That’s not vague at all.” He smirked but didn’t answer immediately, which only irritated you more.

You shifted in your seat, arms tightening around yourself. “He probably just told you my sob story to make you feel bad.”

He exhaled. “Yeah, he told me about your parents, about how things weren’t easy. But he didn’t say it so I’d pity you.” His voice softened. “He said it so I’d understand you.”

You stared at him, lips parting slightly before you shut them again.

“Jeonghan’s known you for years,” Seungcheol continued. “And he made it pretty damn clear that if I wanted to keep you in my life, I had to stop being an idiot and actually see you.”

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “And what do you see?”

Seungcheol’s gaze held yours, steady and unyielding. “Someone who pretends not to care because it’s safer. Someone who pushes people away before they get the chance to leave.”

“But also,” he went on, “someone who cares way more than she lets on. Someone who makes it impossible for people to love her less once they’ve gotten to know her.”

Your head snapped back to him. That was Jeonghan’s exact wording.

Seungcheol’s lips twitched. “Yeah, he said that too.”

You huffed, leaning your head against the window. “He talks too much.”

Seungcheol chuckled, but then his voice dropped, quieter now. “Look, I’m not here because of what Jeonghan told me. I’m here because I don’t want to be just another person you expect to leave.”

You didn’t answer right away. Because you didn’t know how. Instead, you just muttered, “You’re annoying,” under your breath.

Seungcheol smirked. “You’ve mentioned.”

The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortable. He didn’t push you to say anything more, and you weren’t ready to give him any more than you already had.

When he pulled up in front of your building, he put the car in park and turned to you. “So what now?”

You shrugged, gripping the door handle. “I don’t know.”

Seungcheol leaned back against his seat, watching you carefully. “Are you gonna keep avoiding me?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the handle. “…No.”

That seemed to amuse him. “That didn’t sound very convincing.”

You sighed, turning to face him properly. “I don’t know how to do this, Seungcheol.”

His expression softened. “Then let’s figure it out together.”

You stared at him, searching for something—any sign that this was some kind of game. But all you found was patience, quiet and unwavering.

You exhaled and looked away. “I should go.”

He nodded, but before you could push the door open, he spoke again. “You never answered my question.”

You frowned. “What question?”

Seungcheol tilted his head, as if debating whether to repeat himself. Then, in a voice much softer than before, he said, “What do you want?”

Your breath hitched because wasn’t that the question you’d been running from this whole time?

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, your heart hammering in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol studied you for a long moment, then simply nodded. “Okay.”

You blinked. “Okay?”

He smiled slightly. “Okay. You don’t have to know yet.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “That easy, huh?”

His smile grew. “Not everything has to be a fight, you know.”

“Tell that to my brain.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “I’ll work on it.”

You bit your lip, stealing one last glance at him before finally opening the door. “Good night, Seungcheol.”

“Good night,” he said.

PART TWO COMING SOON

[spaceagebachelormann]

i stay true to my word chat

hcs for pre-crash gf!lottie who’s obviously RICH RICH but her partner is less privileged

cause we KNOWWW lottie’s the type to spoil

☆ — lottie matthews with a poor partner

✧ masterlist — navigation

✧ carmillas thoughts — lottie they could never make me hate you. my delusional weird freaky (not) secretly wuh luh wuh queen. i wrote this with a fem reader in mind but it can be read as any gender tbh

✧ warnings — none that i’m aware of

very first thing to keep in mind is lottie would absolutely never ever judge you for being less privileged or for anything else

she’s super understanding of everything and will always step in to help out with things if needed, even if you don’t ask

if you needed extra money but felt horrible for asking i promise you she does not care, she’s 100% said she has enough money for the both of you

your parents probably love her because the second she has even an inkling there’s not enough money she just happens to casually leave some at your house while she’s there or she takes you shopping and just happens to buy things your family needs

also please let her spoil you i know she’d want to so bad

would ask you shopping at least twice a month and if you’re like “lottie i don’t have enough money” she’s like “it’s okay girl i got you”

type of gf to stand outside the change rooms and wait for you (would 100% wanna see, please show them to her)

she’s also veryyyy good at telling what will look amazing on you vs what wouldn’t, but is really good with being subtle about it

like if you were looking at something she’d be like “oh this is cute!” and drag you across the store

i just know this diva also randomly shows up at your house with things she thinks you might need

she genuinely acts as if it’s not a problem (it’s not. she does not care if your wealthy) and is honestly more than happy to get you and your family whatever you might need no matter what it is

god forbid someone says anything about you or your family or literally just anything slightly related to you because she starts tweaking

she herself isn’t a shit talker and is not a violent person, however she is friends with shit talkers and violent people and she does nawt want anyone talking shit about you

she herself doesn’t go too far with like a rumour or something, but the rest of the yellowjackets do because they also love you

she’d be super worried before nationals (if you weren’t coming with her or weren’t on the team) for obvious reasons but she tries not to be overbearing about it

however she definitely leaves you some money just in case it’s needed while she’s away

if you do come with her to nationals for whatever reason she still leaves money for your parents or whoever you live with because she doesn’t want anything to happen to them

she may seem kind of overbearing sometimes, but she doesn’t think any less of you for not being rich like she is and she loves being able to help you

[jakedustry]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

You can’t put out fire with fire. But you can combine them, and watch the place burn down in front of your eyes. The demon king realized that when he watched his son dethrone him. He should have never sent him on the mission in the first place. If he hadn’t, he could have kept his son’s fire under control. 

IN WHICH Wonwoo spends most of his time in his room, watching the world around from the comfort of his window. He likes it that way. It wasn’t like the outer world would be something he’d like to see any other way anyway. However, when his dad—the demon king—decides it’s time for him to go out, he can’t say anything in protest. 

As Wonwoo wanders through the mountains to reach the Angel’s territory, the little flame you leave behind yourself catches his attention, and you know you found someone interesting when even the flame you fire into his face doesn’t make him turn around and get to where he came from. 

── .✦

genre– Fluff, Smut

warnings/contains– fire fairy!reader, demon prince!wonwoo, side character death, Wonwoo has horns, tail and wings, some sexual jokes, Wonwoo is compared to a horny teen, drinking, mythical creatures, demons and angels rivalry, love at first sight, forced proximity, lots of plot (especially regarding the demons), arranged marriage (unsuccessful), dom!reader mostly, sub!wonwoo mostly, handjob, unprotected sex, kinda horn play/sensitivity play, they do it once with their friends sleeping on the other side of the cave they are in, oral (f!receiving), face sitting I might have forgotten some

word count– 29.2k

playlist

↪ izzy adds... okay this was so fun. I really enjoyed the world building and playing around the powers and backstory of the demons. I'm so happy to be a part of this collab with my friends and so so so thankful to them. I also want to say a special thank you to @beomiracles because she was the one who organized most of it and helped us all unite. You did so well with it serene <33 This story is barely proofread, so sorry for any mistakes you might come across

Does the world burn because of people, or is it people who burn because of the world they live in? 

Wonwoo thinks about this question daily as he stares out of his window, watching the demons outside scorch the ground beneath their feet. But he knows they aren’t the only ones causing all the mess—the world above, teeming with other creatures, is far worse.

He couldn’t say he has met many of them—he wasn’t even sure if he could say he met any of them (he refused to count the brief eye contact exchange he made with one of the vampires years ago when he was a child)—but those are the things he’s been taught. “We aren’t bad like everyone portrays us,” he recalls his nanny saying, the pause in her words still etched in his memory. “Some of us, at least.” 

A sharp knock on the door pulls Wonwoo from his thoughts. He turns away from the children outside, who are tossing little flames at each other. “Come in!” He calls, and it takes barely a second before the door opens and he meets eyes with the same lady that raised him. “Misoon,” he smiles, standing up. She exchanges a smile with him, hesitantly closing the door behind herself. 

Misoon has served the demon king for as long as Wonwoo can remember. Her face is lined with wrinkles, yet he has never thought of her as old. She is wise, having lived more lifetimes than he could imagine. She has always been there—teaching him how to read, speak, and harness the basics of his powers—everything his parents never cared to be part of. A part of him hates that he sees her as a mother figure, especially since his own mother is long gone, but he has learned to accept it. So, he’s learnt to read her, and he knew that frown on her face—full of worry, wouldn’t bring anything good. 

“Your father will summon you in a few minutes, Sir,” she informs him, taking a few steps closer. “Don’t call me that,” he frowns at the sudden address. “You’ve changed my diapers before, I think it’s only fair to call me by my name.” 

“I already promised to drop the Royal Highness, but I can’t afford speaking so casually to you, Prince.” 

It’s like a reminder to him that she isn’t actually his close family member, but one of his father’s workers, who only happens to care for him. Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Alright then. So, what was it about my father calling for me?” He asks, and the hesitation he catches in Misoon’s eyes makes him worried. “I’m not exactly sure what happened—but I overheard a conversation His Majesty had with one of the knights. They want you to go out with them.” 

“Out?” There is a mixture of feelings in Wonwoo’s eyes as he glances out of his window again. “To do what exactly? From what I know, there isn’t anything happening in the kingdom that would need the knights involved.” 

“Outside the kingdom, Prince. We are talking about the real Aethera.” Suddenly, her worries made sense. The world above was a mystery to him, and he isn’t sure it’s one he wants to unravel. The demon king never mentioned anything about wanting him to help out, prove himself, or even take any responsibilities on, so it was more than confusing to him. It always seemed like he didn’t care, like he’d be happier not having a son rather than having to deal with Wonwoo, so why start caring now? 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” she nods, and he notices her small horns have shrunk. He bites the inside of his cheek, nodding in return.

“Then I guess I’ll have to see it out.” 

“No, Prince, I actually think you shouldn’t–” 

A loud knock on the door echoes through the room. 

“Come in!” Wonwoo yells, turning his attention to the door. The sigh Misoon lets out goes by unnoticed. 

Just as she said, minutes later, Wonwoo is kneeling in the grand hall before his father, listening to him speak. 

“There is time for everyone,” the king starts, clearing his throat. Wonwoo’s eyes flicker up to him for a brief second before he glances back down, almost staring a hole into the floor beneath him. Thanks to Misoon he knew what the conversation was going to be about, but he hadn’t expected a lesson with it as well. “You’re 27 now. It’s way past yours.” Wonwoo stiffens at the veiled insult but holds his tongue. “So, as a way to get back on track and prove yourself worth it—this throne for example—I want you to co-lead a mission.” 

Prove his worth? Did he need to do that? Did he have to take over the kingdom at some point and rule the demons like his father has? He knew it had to come once, but a part of him always thought that the later, the better. He loved the freedom he had now—the ability to exist without the weight of others’ expectations.

A part of him wanted to turn around and run away when he listened to the real reason why he was going but he knew he couldn’t. “You’ll become a true man after that and will be able to find a wife for yourself. It was about time, after all.” 

“Of course,” Wonwoo mumbles through gritted teeth, realizing that maybe Misoon’s worries weren’t so out of place. “Perfect,” his father’s voice comes out strong, and before Wonwoo can look up, there are already two knights on each of his sides, waiting for him to get up so they could escort him out. 

The sudden change is something Wonwoo wasn’t fond of. 

Just last week, his days looked simple. Eat, study, eat, stay in his room, eat, sleep. But now, for some reason, everyone needed to keep an eye on him. He could barely find a free minute to run off to his room and relax before another one of the knights or teachers showed up, insisting on having to teach him something. 

Now, his day looked something more like this; Workout, fight, study, eat, fight, workout, fight, snack, sleep. 

“You’re holding it wrong,” the knight grumbles, walking over to fix Wonwoo’s grip. “Your Highness, it’s important that you learn as much as you can before we leave. When we reach the mountains, it’ll be too late. We can’t keep an eye on the angels and you on top of that.” 

It felt humbling to say the least. Wonwoo was an adult, he should have learnt how to hold a sword a long time ago, not to mention his power control. 

“Noted,” it comes out more raspy than he’d want to, catching the older male off guard. He doesn’t say anything, though, and a part of Wonwoo feels relieved. 

Later that day, when Wonwoo sits alone in the large dining room and his eyes land on the clock that marks already 3pm, he is surprised to see another person walk in, a portion of the same lunch he has in his hands. He feels even more conflicted when the blond boy sits down opposite him. Didn’t he find himself impolite for not bothering with saying at least a greeting to his prince before invading his space? 

Wonwoo clears his throat, loud enough to catch the boy’s attention. Their eyes meet, but all he gets is a smile in return before the blond continues eating. The prince wasn’t sure what was going on through the boy’s head, but he wasn’t one to mention anything, so he simply returned to his lunch. 

It wasn’t for another 3 days before he saw him again. His blond locks cover his eyes, and he looks kind of funny looking up at the other men in armor, but Wonwoo can’t doubt his skills, not after he saw him fight. 

“Oh! It’s you again!” His eyes land on Wonwoo, causing the taller male to widen his eyes. “From the dining room? We had a late lunch together!” He sounds offended when Wonwoo doesn’t automatically act like they’ve been friends for years. He opens his mouth to answer but before he can do so, one of the knights nudges the blond’s shoulder, informing him this isn’t how he should speak to his prince. 

And he’s right. Had Wonwoo been anything like his father, the young boy wouldn’t have a tongue by now. 

“Don’t mind him, Your Highness. Chan just wants to get along with everyone.” Wonwoo turns his head to the side upon hearing the voice, slightly nodding when he notices another knight. If his memory recalls correctly he introduced himself as Seokmin before. “He means no harm, though.” 

There is a sigh that leaves his lips when he notices the blond in a headlock, laughing with another two boys he can’t remember the names of at the moment. Seokmin looks confused upon that for a second until he looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, a smile appearing on his lips as he realizes the exhale is nothing but wishful. 

Spending weeks with a group of men who either think with their dicks or swords was something Wonwoo never imagined doing. Yet, he noticed some of their traits growing onto him as well. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. 

A lot of people told him he’s gotten more talkative and louder in the past few days, and it always sounded like a compliment, but the feeling of turning into a person he didn’t even know always made his smile fade away. He’d much rather have people avoiding him because they find him weird than them praising him for being someone he isn’t. 

“Hey, prince!” Chan’s laugh fills Wonwoo’s ears, making him turn around. “Are you coming with us? We want to grab some drinks since it’s the last day before the mission,” he informs him, and Wonwoo thinks about it for a bit. Seokmin told him about it earlier, and he said he won’t go but now that he saw how excited Chan was for it, he didn’t want to miss it. 

“Alright.” 

There’s a quiet “Yes!” that leaves Chan’s lips and it makes Wonwoo chuckle. 

“You can go first. I still need to take care of some things but I’ll come,” he assured him, watching him walk away before he turned on his heel, walking through the castle to get to the library for his last lesson with the king’s advisor. 

He had mixed feelings about the situation, honestly. He was glad he wouldn’t need to have his head buried in the pile of books while listening to older men talk his ears off about topics he had no interest in anymore but a part of him knew he’ll miss it in the future nonetheless. Once he’d come back with the knights, his whole world will be changed and he’ll probably want to come back to the somehow-easy times where all he had to care about was making sure he wouldn’t fall asleep while listening to these lessons. 

So, for the first and last time, he walked to his lesson with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, ready for anything else he still had to learn. 

It’s safe to say Chan is drunk when Wonwoo finally arrives into the pub right outside the castle and joins the table full of knights. He tries his best to ignore the pairs of eyes on him and orders a beer for himself immediately, which follows a loud chant from the others. 

“I thought you weren’t going to join us, Your Highness,” Seokmin comments with a teasing smirk on his face. Wonwoo rolls his eyes at that but a smile creeps up his face. “Wonwoo is fine,” he proclaims, and it catches the younger man off guard. “I don’t think I can–” 

“It’s fine. I promise,” Wonwoo assures him before he can finish, looking around the table. “You are the only one who still calls me by my title. Everyone else dropped it a long time ago, so you should too.” He smiles, nodding. “Okay, then, Wonwoo.” 

A round of drinks goes by only to be met with a new one, and soon enough, the group supposed to protect all of the demons and their empire is drunk in a local pub, singing loudly and yelling over each other. It’s a funny sight for sure. 

“You!” Chan points at the prince, making him blink confusedly. “How come you don’t have a wife yet?” Another one of the knights—Jisung—joins in and everyone’s eyes land on the tall male. “Uhm,” he starts, trying to think of any valid reason. “We keep waiting for you to find someone so you can take over the throne but it feels like you don’t take any initiative to do so!” 

“I haven’t found the right person,” Wonwoo lies. He’s never cared about finding a wife for himself, nor taking over the throne for the matter. Deep down he knew it was something he should think about every second of his day, he took lectures on how to rule a kingdom for reasons after all, but for now, it seemed like something so far beyond his capabilities he’d rather not bother himself with it. 

“I call bullshit,” Seokmin says, nudging the prince’s shoulder. “Surely you hadn’t been single this whole time. That’d just be a disgrace to your little royal–” The owner interrupts him before he can finish his sentence, placing another round of drinks on their table. Wonwoo feels relieved. He’d rather not discuss his (barely existent) sexual journey with them. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Wonwoo laughs it off, finding an escape route. “We still need some sleep before tomorrow. Last round.” There are a few complaints from the others at first, but in the end Wonwoo is the one with the last word, calling it a night when everyone finishes their drink. 

There is a weird feeling that creeps up Wonwoo’s shoulders as he walks through the castle hallways to reach his room, but he tries to pay it little to no attention. Surely it’s all the alcohol he had tonight and nothing else. That’s what he thinks until he senses the presence of another human being. But before he can do anything about it, figure out who it is or why they’ve been following him, two arms wrap around him, dragging him aside into one of the rooms. 

“For fucks sake, you scared the shit out of me, Misoon!” Wonwoo yells when he finally sets his eyes on the person, and she immediately covers his mouth to quiet him down. She has to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, but she is willing to do that if it means getting him to shut up. His words are muffled against her palm but she makes out the words to be something like “What’s going on?” 

She sighs, letting her hand fall back to her side. Wonwoo notices the worry in her eyes first and then the few new wrinkles on her face. He wouldn’t dare to point it out, but she didn’t look the best. 

“Why are we here?” He asks when she doesn’t answer his first question, looking around. It is her room, he realizes. It’s been so long since he’s last been here that he almost didn’t recognize it. “So I know we are alone,” she proclaims, walking past him to sit in her chair. His eyes follow her, but his feet stay glued to the floor, not moving an inch. 

“There have been…weird things happening,” she explains when she sees the confused look on Wonwoo’s face. “Your father is full of secrets, Prince, and I’m not only scared for myself, but mainly for you.” Now he laughs. “Scared? For me?” However, the expression on her face shows she doesn’t find it as funny as he does. He swallows hard, trying to read her and somehow make sense of what is happening. He shakes his head before he takes a seat on her bed. It’s small, the whole room is, and it makes him feel bad. After everything she’s done for his family this is how the king repays her? 

“There are things you don’t know about. Stuff His Majesty decided to bury so deep only he knows about them.” 

“Look, Misoon, I know my father has his issues but no one is perfect. We’ve actually…gotten closer since he decided to put me on this mission. I don’t want to ruin that based on nothing.” 

She closes her mouth again when he says that, trying to think of something, anything, that could convince him. It seemed impossible though when she had no evidence she could hold onto. “Just promise me you’ll be careful? I’m not sure why he decided to send you on this mission, but I know it can’t be anything good.” 

Wonwoo smiles but doesn’t say anything else. He stands up again, walking over to the door. With one last look at her, the words “Good night” leave his lips before he exists, falling asleep as soon as his back hits the comfort of his bed. 

Drinking the night before was a bad idea. They all realized it as they walked through the Darkwood forest, the birds chipping around them making their heads dizzy. How were they supposed to fight anyone like this? 

“Alright, let’s settle down for some time,” Seokmin commands, turning around to face the knights. “I hate saying this but we are not ready right now,” he sighs and without any complaints, the group of men gets comfortable in the middle of the forest. Thankfully, this wasn’t a battle they could win in a single day anyway. Only the walk to the mountains would take almost the whole day, not to mention the stairway to heaven. Climbing up was going to take some time. No one would mind the few extra hours they had to spend outside. 

“My head hurts,” Chan complains, resting his back against one of the trees. “Because you drank twice as much as everyone else,” Jisung comments, slightly kicking Chan’s leg as he walks past him. Wonwoo laughs as the blond raises his hand as if to fight but Jisung isn’t paying him any attention by then. “Here, have this,” he offers him his water bottle. “The sooner you sober up, the sooner we can go.” 

“You and your stupid royal blood,” Chan mumbles, taking the bottle from him. “Why are you not drunk? Is it some super ability you royals have? Not feeling the alcohol in your blood the next day?” The prince laughs at his questions again, shaking his head as he takes a seat beside him. “I’m just lucky I guess.” 

“I don’t get why we can’t just fly over there, it would be way quicker.” The complaint catches Wonwoo’s attention, making him look up to see Seokmin talking with one of the younger knights. “Is that a real question?” Seokmin raises an eyebrow confusedly, giving him another chance to prove he isn’t stupid. “Yes, it is.” 

“Oh god,” Chan sighs. “Do you think he’ll slap him?” Now it’s Wonwoo who is confused. “Why would he do that?” Chan shrugs. “Min slaps me when I have stupid questions. But the more I think about it, the more I’m realizing it might just be because he doesn’t like me,” he mumbles the last part, hoping he is wrong once again. “That’s not it,” Wonwoo assures him. “I actually think it’s because he does like you. He cares, otherwise he wouldn’t get so worked up. Look,” he points at the two guys, watching as Seokmin only gives a brief answer before walking away from him, deciding he isn’t going to deal with him. 

“Did he not listen at all when we planned this whole thing?” Seokmin asks, frustrated as he joins the two guys next to the tree. “You probably tired him so much he slept through it,” Chan jokes, ignoring the dead stare Min sends his way. “Even if he did sleep through it all, isn’t it basic knowledge? If we were to fly up to them, they’d notice us and we’d lose our only advantage.” 

“No need to explain that to us, you made sure we wouldn’t sleep when everything was explained,” Wonwoo laughs, again. It’s weird how many times he’s done that around them. After he reached his teenage years and was forced to learn about the world and all the rules of the demon kingdom, there wasn’t really much to laugh about. It was a nice change. And he appreciated his new friends for it. 

Seokmin rolls his eyes, taking out an old wrist watch from his pocket to see the time. “We should get going again soon. Find water and then get out of here so we are out of the forest before night comes.” Wonwoo nods, standing up and clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, enough lazing around! We need to find a water source and then we’ll get back on track. Now!” He insists when no one moves at first and everyone listens. It’s not like they’d have a different choice when their prince tells them to do something. 

Chan whines, Wonwoo’s words ringing in his head. He was never going to drink again. 

Except for when they get back victorious. 

“Why did I sign up for this again?” Seokmin sighs when he gets back to others. It took forever to find the water source and the sun was already setting down when they all met again. Their plan couldn’t be more off. At least he knew all his knights were sobered up now. 

“Because you love action?” Wonwoo suggests. “And you’re way too loyal to the kingdom.” He can’t disagree, so he simply hums, ordering everyone to start moving. They only get to take a few steps before Wonwoo stops, holding onto Seokmin’s arm to make him halt too. There’s a questioning look on his face, but he doesn’t explain anything, simply looking around the forest, trying to find something. 

“Someone’s out there,” he finally says and within seconds, Seokmin has his sword out. “What’s going on?” The whispers coming from their men don’t make it any easier for them to locate the sounds but that doesn’t stop them. 

“Whose territory is this, Jisung?” Seokmin asks, getting a response immediately. “Werewolves mostly, sir.” The prince and him share a look before looking back at their men. “We don’t want to mess up our relationship with them, everyone understands?!” When they all agree, he continues. “Our time is ticking, so let’s get out of here as fast as we can! No one, and I repeat, no one, will do anything to piss them off! Let’s avoid them,” he glances at the taller man next to him again and Wonwoo nods. “That’s right! Let’s go!” He joins, encouraging them to get going again. 

When they get out of the Darkwood forest, it’s the middle of the night. 

Wonwoo isn’t sure if he’s ever experienced a sunrise before. Down, back at the kingdom, there wasn’t a place he could watch them from, so he only heard about them from stories. He’s never got the hype about them. However, as he walked beside his friends now, watching the clear sky gain colors and the sun come up, he understood it all. It was truly beautiful. He regretted not being outside sooner. Who knew what else he was missing out on. 

“Okay, guys, we trained for this,” Seokmin turns to all of the guys, his feet covered in snow as he stands on the bottom of the stairway to heaven. The stairs are visibly old, and Wonwoo wonders how long it’s been since anyone stepped on them when he sees the dust and rats running around. “Whoever is up there waiting for us—if there is anyone, they won’t see it coming.” 

It goes as planned, every step of their way is peaceful, almost too perfect. Wonwoo follows last, guarding the men from behind while Seokmin and Chan lead the way. He knew the stairs weren’t used by angels but still, something was fishy about how easily it all seemed. 

It’s only when they reach the top that Wonwoo finally senses the presence of another creature. “Wait, guys,” he tries to warn them, stop everyone and tell them to prepare their swords, but instead, he watches a light flash in front of his eyes, slicing through the air. It takes less than a second, just one move and before anyone can react, a light sword cuts through a demon’s flesh. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and his whole body freezes. Hadn’t it been for Seokmin, yelling at everyone to focus while he fires towards the light, who knows how it’d all end up. Who knows if Wonwoo would be able to react at all. 

Thankfully, he manages to shake himself off, ignoring Jisung’s body falling to the ground and lighting up a fire with his hand, trying to calculate the speed in which the light—likely an angel—moves in order to fire at the perfect time. He watches the men in the front take out their swords, looking around themselves, waiting for it to strike again while the guys in the back create a fire in their hands just like Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo’s eyes quickly follow all the movements around him, making sure not to hit anyone else as he shoots right in front of Seokmin’s face. Gasps are heard from the guys around but it doesn’t change the fact he hits the right spot, causing the light to turn back into an angel. A wave of relief washes over Wonwoo when the angel falls to the ground but to his luck, the battle has only started. And the war they started by this attack is near. 

Soon enough, before the demons get to collect themselves or mourn their lost knight, there is another light flashing in front of their eyes. 

“I believe we haven’t met yet.” The soft voice catches Wonwoo’s attention. There are three men standing in front of his men and who knows how many are hiding in the back, waiting for the best time to attack. “No, we certainly haven’t,” Wonwoo settles for the safe choice—talk. Whatever gives him time to think of a way out of this mess. “Yoon Jeonghan,” the angel in the front introduces himself, politely reaching his hand towards the demons. Wonwoo doesn’t shake his hand though, and neither does Seokmin. 

“Jeon Wonwoo,” the prince decides to introduce himself, creating a smile on Jeonghan’s face. “Your Highness,” he bows slightly but it’s obviously a sign of mockery. “What brings you here today?” — “I hope…” a chuckle leaves his lips, as if he was finding amusement in the whole situation. “You didn’t come here to fight us, did you?” 

Wonwoo hesitates, briefly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. “No,” he answers through gritted teeth. “But you attacked one of ours.” Jeonghan’s eyes wander to the lifeless body under him. “I believe we are even,” he shrugs and Wonwoo notices how he didn’t pay the tiniest of attention to the fallen angel yet. “Even though…” he starts again with a smirk on his face. “I don’t like being even.” 

Before Wonwoo can figure out what those words mean, another light flashes in front of him and the next thing he hears is a gasp from one of his men. He quickly realizes fighting someone who moves at the speed of light is nearly impossible. Bodies fall to the ground right beside him and it feels like he is unable to move again. Unable to help, save his friends. 

“Prince, careful!” It’s Chan’s voice that brings him out of the trance, making him take a step back, which almost causes him to fall down the stairs. “Behind you, Chan!” Wonwoo yells right back as he takes out his sword, creating a fire in his empty hand. “Prince, I need you to listen to me!” He briefly glances at Seokmin as he swings his sword towards one of the angels that appeared in front of him. “Focus on your powers, search deep in your core!” 

“Now isn’t the best time to give me extra lessons!” Wonwoo yells back as he listens to the comical instructions. “It’s exactly the time!” Min disagrees, trying to help out one of the younger demons. “Do as I say!” He wants to question it, argue with him at least, but he decides to do as he is told, taking a deep breath as he follows. “Imagine lighting your sword on fire!” Any angel nearby could see in his expression that Wonwoo wasn’t confident in what he was doing, and with powers, the key factor was confidence. Believing you could do whatever you wished for. 

But there have been weirder orders he received before, some he questioned more. 

So, even though Wonwoo doesn’t have the greatest faith in himself, he believes in Seokmin. 

“Woah,” he breathes out in shock, his eyes tracing as the sword ignites in flames. He smirks, gazing into his opponents eyes before he steps forward, cutting through the angel’s body in one swift motion. “How did you–” 

“Now is not the time for that!” Seokmin interrupts him, glancing over at Chan to see how he is holding up. “We need to get out of here immediately!” 

Wonwoo’s eyes never worked so much, so fast as they do now. He scans his surroundings, noticing Jeonghan on the top just watching the scene under him with pleasure. It annoys him how above-everyone he thinks he is. But he needs to focus on something else right now, so he counts the heads. There are eight demons still standing strong against who knows how many angels. He sees fifteen for now, but it’d be foolish to think more couldn’t show up any second. 

“Okay, everyone, I’ll keep them busy but you need to leave, now!” Seokmin tries to argue with Wonwoo’s command but it barely reaches the prince’s ears as he practically pushes them down, refusing to hear it out. He swings his sword again when one of the angels gets too close, glaring at the others so they know he means it. 

It takes no time for the angels to surround him, but it takes even less time for Wonwoo to push his wings out and take them down with one swift sweep. If Jeonghan wanted a show, Wonwoo was going to end it before the plot twist. 

“Is he–” Chan starts, glancing back to see the situation as he runs down the stairs with the others, trying to get as far away as possible before they’d resolve to flying away. “Don’t look back,” Seokmin orders, trying not to do so himself. “He’ll manage. He has to.” 

It’s obvious that they are both worried but there is nothing they can do. Now, it’s up to Wonwoo if he finally understands his powers. 

Jeonghan scoffs, taking a step forward to get closer. Wonwoo doesn’t let him, swinging his right wing right in front of him to stop him before he returns it to its original position in order to keep the other angels glued to the ground. “Don’t take another step or else–” 

“Or else what?” He isn’t scared, not a bit. If anything, Han feels intrigued, looking forward to what the prince might show him. “I’ve lived much longer than you did, prince. Fought many more battles.” Wonwoo swallows, carefully observing the situation he is in. He needs a solution, and he needs it now. 

Then it hits him. Imagine lighting your sword on fire! What if he did that with something else? 

He focuses again, giving all his attention into his wings. 

“I see,” Jeonghan mumbles, unable to take his eyes off the demon in front of him as his wings slowly turn from black to a deep, warm red and his eyes catch the same color. “You take a lot after your father.” 

The comment goes unnoticed by Wonwoo but it doesn’t matter. At the moment, he wouldn’t be able to make sense out of it anyway. 

“You can run after your little friends,” Jeonghan encourages him with a slight movement of his head. “If you can get out of this state, that is.” 

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long it takes for him to push his wings back in, but he certainly doesn’t like how much the angel seems to know about him. It felt as if he knew exactly what Wonwoo was capable of before he even did. It made him wonder just how much he didn’t know himself or his powers. 

“You what?!” Wonwoo closes his eyes, tired of all the yelling that has been happening for the past half hour. Sure, they weren’t able to fulfill their mission, but was it that important? Was it all worth the lives it took? Honestly, he didn’t think so. 

“We weren’t prepared well enough,” Seokmin mutters through gritted teeth as he glances at the king, lowering his head immediately again when their eyes meet. “I underestimated the situation. I should have taken on more knights. Maybe then…” 

“Fighting on their territory couldn’t go well for us no matter what,” Chan steps in, ignoring his elders’ warning looks and whispers. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, we lost that battle before we even took out our swords.” 

“Get them out of here,” the king commands, and before his personal guards can move to escort the knights out of the area, Seokmin and Chan are already on their feet, leaving as soon as they can. They have done their best. 

“Why are you still here?” The king questions with a frown when his eyes land on his son, who hasn’t moved a bit since he came. Wonwoo looks up, taking a deep breath before he stands up, rethinking his words. “That order wasn’t for me.” 

“You think that?” 

“I know.” 

The king nods just so slightly, glancing at his guards to let them know they can come back to their spots. “You need to go back.” This time, it is an order for him, one he can’t argue with. “They’ve made more mess than what’s worth a few heads you managed to cut this time. We need them to suffer.” We? Wonwoo frowns. It’s more than obvious this whole plan comes from the king’s head, no one else’s, so why is he pretending now that it’d be beneficial for more people? 

“Is that all?” Wonwoo asks after a second thought, unbothered with how impudent he sounds. He catches the shock on the king’s face even though he shakes it off shortly after, sending his son away with one move of his hand. 

“So?” Chan asks immediately when the door closes behind the prince, catching him off guard. He chuckles, glancing at the closed door before he walks away with his two friends by his side. He tells them the absurd order he received and watches as the smiles disappear off their faces. Honestly, it isn’t looking good for Wonwoo, or any of the knights that will be forced to go on the mission with him. 

But, the king’s order is slightly different than what they thought. It isn’t the trained knights that should take on the mission and fight for their king, it’s only the prince who is allowed to go. Everyone knows it’s fishy, and that the king definitely has some ulterior motives, but there is nothing they can do about it. 

And so, after a few days, Wonwoo sets off alone this time, tracing through the dark forest with no hope of returning back home. 

The snow on the side of the mountain still feels the same, and Wonwoo can’t focus on anything but how he wishes to have the same snow down at the kingdom. He is sure the kids would love it just as much. 

But for now, before figuring out how to transfer snow from here to the kingdom, he needs to perfect his powers. He had spoken to Seokmin about what happened before, asked him about how he knew he was capable of something like that, and if he knew what happened when he tried to light his wings on fire. 

“Power strength comes from beliefs. If you believe you can do it, it will happen,” Seokmin explained, drawing something on the board while Wonwoo and Chan sat at the nearest table, listening to everything he had to say. “Then, of course, status also has its values.” — “The moment you explained to me before, when your vision darkened and you felt physical pain on your wings when you tried to apply your powers on them, is something I wouldn’t be able to do. I haven’t seen the king do anything similar, either,” he stopped for a second and turned around to face his two friends. “Honestly, I’m not sure what it was or what you did at that moment, but it might be useful in the future.” 

“I’ll go to the castle library later and see if I can find anything similar,” Wonwoo proclaimed and Seokmin nodded. “No matter if you find anything or not, I believe the best you can do now is try it again. Try as many times as you need until you achieve it again and can see what you’re capable of.” 

Wonwoo wasn’t able to find anything during his search party in the library but it didn’t discourage him from following Seokmin’s advice. If he needed to repeat what he did a thousand times just to get the answers he craved, he would. 

He ends up settling near the stairway to heaven. He knows it’s risky, any of the angels could walk down any minute and he wouldn’t stand a chance, but the truth is, it’s dark under the lamp. 

It feels weird, like something has changed when he watches his wings. They look longer, wider and even though their color has turned back to black, for some reason they don’t feel like they are. But before he can ponder upon it more, his thoughts get interrupted by a little flame fired in his face. 

Wonwoo quickly blinks in shock, waving his hand in front of his face to blow away the smoke. “What the–” Another flame. This time, fired at his right wing. “Chan, if you followed me here–” His left wing receives the next hit. Before he can take another hit, he hides his wings again, annoyed as he narrows his eyes to see, expecting to meet his younger friend. 

“You’re not…” the shock on his face is obvious when his eyes set on a woman, one he doesn’t recognize. “Hands up.” He obeys, carefully examining the person in front of him. He blinks a few times as he takes the image of you in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing. 

“Who are you?” You ask, aiming at his left leg this time in case he would want to move. “As far as I know, demons aren’t exactly welcomed here.” You take a step forward, watching as his eyes move from one side to another, probably trying to find an escape route. “Who are you?” You question again, this time harsher. 

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately, you fire at his face again. “Hey!” He complains, but your fire doesn’t leave any bruises. You doubt if he even feels any pain from it. “Wonwoo! My name is Jeon Wonwoo!” He admits when he notices another flame appearing in your hand. 

You scoff, “Of course you are.” 

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, you come closer to him, grabbing his right horn and pulling him to the ground. “Your little game is over. You’re coming with me.” 

Wonwoo hisses when you touch his horn, his eyes closing on instinct. The fire before was annoying, that’s for sure, but this hurt like hell, so much that without having to apply much force, you brought him to his knees. “Wait, you–” You tug on his horn, making him look up at you and he shuts up again. “Stay quiet and I might be gentle,” you smile innocently and he gulps, trying to stay as calm as possible as he gazes into your eyes, a part of him finding pleasure in the way you touch him. This wasn’t going to end well.

You feel his stares on you the whole way back to your village, debating if you should slap him out of it or ignore him. Eventually, you decide on the latter, just hoping the fire ropes you created to tie him up would be enough to hold him. 

“What is that?” You turn around when you hear one of the guards’ voices behind you, tugging Wonwoo with yourself. “A demon I found in the mountains,” you explain, glancing up at him. You love how even though you have to look up at him, it feels like you have the upper hand now. “Go on, introduce yourself,” you encourage him proudly. 

When Wonwoo’s name leaves his lips, the guard’s expression changes. His eyes widen before narrowing again as he looks the demon up and down, stopping at the fire ropes you made. “How long will those last?” 

“A few hours, I don’t have enough power to keep it alive for longer.” He nods, calling over another guard. Wonwoo watches everything with caution, trying to remember the village layout as best as he can. “Take him to the cage in the back. We’ll inform your fiancé.” You hesitate for a second before nodding and turning around, refusing to give them enough time to examine your face. 

“Who was–” 

“It’s better you don’t ask many questions,” you interrupt him, not sparing him a glance. You notice a few people looking out of their window to see what’s going on but you don’t look at them either. Involving as little people as possible is the key right now. 

“Is everyone here a fire fairy?” He turns his head towards you, watching the people around. You don’t answer him but he figures out the answer is no when he catches a glimpse of a little boy showing off to his friends by creating a snowflake in his hand. “Where are you taking me?” No answer again. “Why do you know who I am? And why did those guards know who I am?” 

You sigh when he doesn’t give up, stopping in the middle of the road. “How about you shut up, follow me, and then ask questions. If you don’t piss people off, maybe they’ll give you answers.” 

“What people?” You glare at him and he closes his mouth again. He doesn’t say anything afterwards and you learn to appreciate the silence. You wouldn’t have guessed the demon prince known for his closed-off attitude could get on your nerves so much, but sometimes, we can’t see into the future. 

That’s something Wonwoo proves to you a lot in the upcoming days. 

Wonwoo grunts when you practically push him inside one of the cages, locking the door behind him before he can turn around. He sighs and steps closer, grabbing the metal bars and leaning forward to prove how tired he is. You scoff at his action, taking a step back. “Care to give me my answers now?” 

You stay quiet, smirking which creates a grin on his face. “So this is how you want to play?” 

“I don’t need to play anything,” you shake your head with a smile. “As far as I know, you’re the one locked up.” 

There is a hint of amusement behind his smile as he watches you, unable to take his eyes off you. “Who are you?” He questions. You stay still for a second, trying to read him the best you can before you decide to share your name with him, figuring out there is nothing he can do with that information. “And this fiancé of yours?” He continues his questionnaire, making you roll your eyes at the hint of mockery in his voice, almost as if he didn’t believe you could have a partner. “Wait and see,” you shrug, unbothered. 

He continues asking you one question after another, and you eventually give up, sharing with him whatever he asks for. You explain how the angels approached you before and asked for a small help with keeping their territory safe, how Jeonghan himself explained to the selected group of people what happened that morning in heaven, but you leave out the fact you know about his new found powers—the ones he still doesn’t know how to get under control yet. 

“How many people know about me?” You open your mouth to brush him off and tell him you won’t disclose that information but before you can do so, another fairy interrupts you. “I think that’s enough bonding for now, don’t you?” You turn your head towards the voice, your lips curling up into a smile when you land your eyes on the ice prince. “Your highness,” you bow slightly and it makes him chuckle as he comes up to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making you look up. “Hi, love,” he smiles, pressing his lips on yours. 

Wonwoo coughs to interrupt you and you scoff. “Prince Wonwoo himself,” you introduce your prisoner and the proud grin on your fiancé’s face makes you smile. “Great job, darling,” he praises you, quickly glancing at the two guards following him to dismiss them. “For sure, darling,” Wonwoo mocks, barely sparing the prince a glance. You don’t react to his comment, ignoring him and letting the fairy prince speak instead. 

“My name is Minghao,” he introduces himself with a slight bow. Wonwoo hesitates for a second before bowing too, deciding to declare respect to the prince even though he is currently keeping him imprisoned. “I hope she didn’t cause you too much discomfort while bringing you here, that would be very unfortunate,” he quickly glances your way at the mention of you before returning his full attention to the demon. 

Wonwoo frowns at how painfully fake Minghao sounds but he doesn’t say anything. He knows if the situation was turned around he wouldn’t behave much differently. 

“She took great care of me,” he grins, slowly looking down at the bars he is still holding onto for the effect before speaking again. “But ever since I came to the village my experience wasn’t the greatest,” he tries to shake with the bars to prove his point but it only makes the fairy prince chuckle. 

“I’m sorry about that, but there is nothing more I can do for you. I fear this is how you’ll have to stay for a while. At least until Jeonghan—or any other angel—comes to take over.” 

“So you plan on giving me up to the angels? I see.” 

Minghao hums, and it tools like he is thinking about something. “I mean, there isn’t much more to do with you, is there?” When he looks at Wonwoo again there is a hint of amusement in his eyes and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew he has already won. It pisses Wonwoo off. 

“I guess not,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. 

“Love, will you look after him for now? I’ll talk to Jun and ask him to visit the angels as soon as possible. The less people know about him the better.” You nod even though you can’t say you’d look forward to spending more time with the demon. It’s not exactly like you have a choice anyway. If a prince orders you something, you listen without complaining. Even if it’s your own future husband. “I’ll see you later at dinner,” he says, kissing your forehead before leaving again. 

Wonwoo notices he doesn’t look at you while doing so, though. He is looking at him. 

Wonwoo sits on the ground, his back pressed against the iron fence while you sit on a chair near the cage, a book in your hands. 

“What is it about?” He wonders, his arms resting on his knees as he turns his head towards you. “Stuff,” you respond, flipping to another page. “Like?” He prompts. “Whatever you want to think it’s about,” you say, not paying much attention to him as your eyes scan the words on the page. “Hm,” he hums and when you finally think you might get a break from him, he speaks up again. “So you’re reading about a fairy being fucked by a demon.” 

“What?!” You turn your head his way immediately, slamming the book shut in embarrassment. However, the smirk you see on his face turns your flusteredness into frustration. You close your eyes, tilting your head slightly as you try to calm yourself down. He chuckles at your reaction, a part of him glad he is locked behind the bars when he sees you close your fist. He knows if he was outside with you at the moment, you would have punched him. 

“You said you’re reading whatever I think you’re reading,” he shrugs, trying to make it seem like he doesn’t fear you a bit. You sigh, shaking your head at him. 

“So is it not about that?” He asks, laughing when you glare at him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he raises his hands in defence, unable to constrain his laugh. 

“Who would have thought a prince could be such an idiot?” It’s you giving him a question this time, and even though it’s supposed to offend him, he smiles. “Who would have thought fairies—who I’ve been taught are these innocent creatures—would have the soul to lock up an actually innocent demon?” 

“You attacked the angels for no reason,” you remind him. “And you went there again, this time alone for some reason, to do what exactly?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, knowing he can’t argue with that. “I was simply following orders.” 

“Alone?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him. “A bit weird, don’t you think so?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “But you don’t question the king.” You hum, the silence that follows louder than you’d like. 

“You know that was a suicide mission, right?” You finally speak again. He nods. “I’m not as stupid as you want me to be.” — “I’m also not as weak as you want me to be, though. Don’t underestimate me.” He brings a smile back to your face and it causes his lips to curl up too. 

“If you had just slightly over average mana, those fire ropes I made wouldn’t have stopped you from breaking away.” 

“Maybe I just didn’t want to run away.” 

You sigh, the smile still on your lips as you shake your head at him. You get up from your chair, throwing the book to him. “I’ll be back later. Use up your time and learn something so the angels don’t crush you immediately.” You catch his grin as he looks down at the book and when he raises his head to say something, you walk away with a slight wave of your hand. 

Wonwoo picks up the book you left him, his fingers tracing the cover as he reads the title. Fire guide and everything that comes with responsibility, advanced learners. He chuckles. “A story about a fairy and demon would have been more interesting,” he mumbles but still opens the book to see what’s inside. 

You stare at your plate, frowning at the ham and rice. The same thing you’ve been eating the whole week. “How is he doing?” You look up upon hearing your fiancé’s voice and place your fork aside again. “As well as a prisoner can, I assume.” Minghao nods, looking at you from across the table. “Jun promised to set off after dinner, Jeonghan should be here the first thing in the morning,” he informs you, a heavy sigh following right after. “When all of this is done, we can finally resume the wedding plans. Everyone is pushing me to have a descendant as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, of course,” you mumble with a nod. “Whatever the people need.” He calls out your name, a hint of pity in eyes as he looks at you. “I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted but I’m trying.” 

“I know,” you assure him, forcing a smile. “I was never meant to be out in the world anyway.” 

“I promise we’ll figure it out,” he tries to make you feel better, you know he is doing his best, but you can’t help but hate it. The only dream you ever had was to fight. Be useful and prove yourself to the other fairies, prove that just because you were a woman you didn’t need to revolve your life around a family. However, all your dreams came crashing down when you learnt what everyone planned for your life without asking you. 

You were barely five when you met Minghao for the first time. You were confused as to why the prince came down to the training room but didn’t ask many questions, not wanting to be rude. It was your dad who encouraged you to talk to the prince in the first place, but you’re sure it was all the king’s plan from the beginning. It made sense, the royal possessing ice powers and the daughter of the king’s personal knight who showed signs of great control over her powers since she was little. It was a great deal for both parties. 

At least until you showed interest in wanting to lead your life yourself and follow in your dad’s footsteps, offering to be the prince’s personal knight. It sounded foolish to everyone. Minghao never thought so, though. He was the only one cheering you on in your plans, convincing everyone you would do great if they just gave you the chance, even coming to the king to tell him how it would make the two of you closer and make your relationship easier. Eventually, thanks to his help, you managed to get what you always wanted. 

But ever since you became an adult, the public became more and more demanding about what your relationship with the prince should look like and everyone started doubting you again. They wanted you closed inside the fairies’ palace, away from the world outside to do nothing but raise the prince’s children. 

Minghao tried to be supportive as much as he could but once the pressure came down on his back too, he always chose to listen to the king’s orders, following what the people wanted. It was a miracle that you still got to keep your position as the royal knight, honestly. You knew how fragile your place was. One misstep and the next thing you’d know, you’d be locked in between those very four walls you were occupying right now. 

“I’m full,” you proclaim, not waiting for the maid to come pick up your plate or your fiancé to say anything before you stand up. You glance at him, feeling bad when you see the apologetic look he gives you. You want to be by his side, support him on his way to become the fairy king, but you can’t put him before yourself. “I’m going to train and stay outside for a while. No need to wait for me, you can go to bed before I come back.” 

You watch him open his mouth as he wants to argue with you, maybe even ask you to stay inside, but he closes his mouth again when he realizes what he was about to do. He knows he can’t do that to you. Not after everyone else already asked you to do that. 

“Be careful,” is what he settles for at the end and you nod to him. “Good night,” you smile, leaving the dining room and going straight to the outer gym. 

Swinging your sword around and attacking the wooden enemies was surprisingly more helpful than you thought. At first you just wanted to get out of the room for some fresh air, but when you picked up the weapon, you felt a lot more at ease than when you left the palace. This was your true calling, what you were meant to do. You couldn’t let anyone take it from you. 

You weren’t sure what time it was when you left the area, wandering through the village. You were jealous of everyone sleeping peacefully in the houses you passed. But you also felt a different emotion towards them—one just as strong. Anger. They were the cause of your problems in the first place. Hadn’t it been for their opinions on your and the prince’s situation, you might have been in the greatest relationship ever. 

You sigh as you reach the last house, looking up at the stars. You wondered what they thought of you, what they had planned for you. A part of you hoped that it was different from what the villagers intended. 

“Am I being dramatic?” You ask quietly, biting your bottom lip as you look for the answer in the night sky. You kick one of the rocks under your feet and look down again, taking one more lap around. 

“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, tilting your head to see better. You’re unsure why you decided to come here. You were already on your way back to the palace when you looked back, and as if he was pulling you towards him on purpose, you ended up going to check on your prisoner. 

“Is that the book?” You blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing things right, chuckling when you comprehend the situation happening in front of you. Wonwoo used his powers to create a small fire lamp once it has gotten dark and has been reading your book. 

He flinches, the fire going off as he loses focus. “Fuck, you scared me,” he mumbles when he turns his head to you. He lights up the fire lamp again and presses his back against the metal bars, closing the book to focus his full attention on you. “Why are you awake, and here?” 

“‘Cause,” you mumble, walking closer to him casually. “Let me guess, troubles in paradise?” He laughs, making you roll your eyes. “He can’t be any good for you.” 

“Because you know me and him so well, right,” you scoff at his comment, debating why you decided to come here again. You already regretted it. “I don’t need to know you or him. I have eyes.” You don’t say anything and he takes it as his cue to continue talking. “This is all I’ve been doing my whole life. Watching people. I might not know the reason,  but you don’t have the spark in your eyes when you look at him.” 

“I do,” you argue but your voice sounds broken, as if he had hit a weak spot. “You want to,” he corrects. “You don’t.” 

“You don’t know me,” you remind him but he only chuckles. “Fine, then let me get to know you.” 

“Why?” You frown, trying to read his face. It didn’t make sense. His attentiveness, attempts to get closer to you, and neither did his calmness. He was locked up, knowing you were going to bring him to the angels the next day, so why did he look so unbothered by it? You couldn’t quite figure out what was going on through his head. 

“We have the whole night ahead of us,” he shrugs. “And it doesn’t look like you’d want to go to sleep anytime soon.” You stay quiet, trying to think about what to do. He is right, you don’t want to go back to the palace and fall asleep on the bed next to your fiancé, but was staying here and spending the night talking to the person you captured just mare hours ago a good idea? 

“Fine,” you agree, prompting him to start. “If you don’t bore me to death with your talking then I might stay and tell you something about myself too.” 

You soon get reminded the world isn’t just black and white. Wonwoo tells you about why they allegedly went to attack the angels in the first place, about the monster attacks that have been happening in the past months. You recall those. You had looked into them with a few of the other knights and after talking to a few people, you came to the conclusion that it was demons behind those attacks. 

Turns out, you were wrong all along. According to him, it was the angels who caused all those troubles, framing the demons out of spite and nothing more. That was the first step to starting a war, and the demon king didn’t let the change pass by him, immediately planning their next move with his knights. 

“It wasn’t for nothing.” 

“I see,” you nod even though you’re not certain starting a fight like this has been the best idea. 

“I don’t think fighting was necessary, no battles ever are really, but I couldn’t just disobey the king’s orders. None of the guys could,” he mumbles, sighing when he remembers all the bodies the mission caused them to leave behind. 

“You’re right,” you smile slightly. “I get that more than you’d think, actually.” Wonwoo hums, questioning what you mean with his eyes. 

And just like that, it ends up being you talking his ears off next. You tell him about your fiancé, how your parents set you two up when you were little and about how even though you adore Minghao, you have been questioning everything lately. 

“You should keep fighting,” he comments, grabbing your book again. He stares at the title, brushing off the dirt on it before handing it to you through the bars. “You have free will, do what you want to do.” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t have the option to just do what I want,” you argue. “I thought I did, that I could satisfy everyone and still do what feels right, but they exclude each other. I can’t be a mother to the kids everyone wants me to have and fight in the front lines at the same time.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not what the people believe in.” 

“Then change their beliefs.” He says it so casually, as if it was easy to do. But it’s far from that. 

“As you see, I’m a prince and yet, I’m being the only one in the front line at the same time.” You’re not sure if it was his attempt to make a joke out of his situation, but it makes you chuckle anyway. “I should take you as my role model then.” 

“Oh, for sure,” his laugh fills your ears and you watch him with a smile on your face. For some reason, sitting here with him in the middle of the night, talking about things you never even mentioned to your fiancé feels…right. It’s casual, neither of you expecting anything else from the other one. It’s a nice chance for once. 

As you continue chatting about nothing and everything, you feel your heart sinking the more time passes. The more time you spend with him, the worse you feel about what’s supposed to happen when the sun rises again. You begin to think you don’t want to let go of him. 

“I honestly didn’t think I could get so close to them,” Wonwoo says, a smile spread across his lips as he talks about his friends. “I guess it’s true that the right people always come into your life when you least expect it.” It sounds cliché and it makes you roll your eyes when you see the look he gives you, but deep down you’re thinking the same thing. A part of you always hoped for someone like that, and now that you were slowly giving up on them, Wonwoo showed up, with his stupid dark eyes that seemed to read you perfectly. 

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper when you avert your gaze from him and gaze at the night sky. He hums confusedly, scanning you with his eyes before he shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he answers, the back of his head resting against the metal bars behind him as he looks at the stars with you. “It’s not your fault. You’re only following orders.” 

You bite your bottom lip until it starts to bleed to get your mind to focus on the pain instead of what was going to happen, but when you glanced at the man beside you, the guilt overtakes you again. For the first time in your life, you doubt the orders you received and question yourself. You should have never agreed to talk to him. You never should have come here and let your guard down. Hadn’t you done that, you’d have no problems taking him to the angels. 

“You’re bleeding,” he comments softly, raising his hand up to your face. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and for a second, he makes you forget about everything. You gaze into his eyes and he quickly pulls his hand back to his side, realizing what he’s done. “Sorry,” he mumbles but you barely register his words. 

There is a moment of silence that follows, the tension building up as you gaze into each other’s eyes, both of you forgetting about the world around you as you wait for the other person to make the first move. 

Eventually, it’s Wonwoo who moves first, turning his body to face you and casually moving closer. The iron fence around him hasn’t pissed him off as much as it did now since you locked him there. 

You try to breathe but it feels like the air gets stuck in your throat as you grab onto the metal bars and he places his hands on top of yours. He looks up at you, still sitting on the cold ground while you stay in your place on your chair. So close yet so far. 

You hear something rustle near you and immediately pull your hands away, finally able to breathe as you bring your mind back to reality. You have a fiancé you love, you remind yourself. Yet, you can’t help but steal glances at the boy beside you. You question what you’re doing here again. There is a handsome man waiting for you in your shared bed, so why do you keep sitting outside with this demon? 

“I should– I should go,” you proclaim, quickly standing up. A wave of guilt runs through you when the whole situation comes crashing down to you and you try to avoid his disappointed look as you walk past him to get back to the palace. 

Still, you can’t help it and glance back once more.

You try to sleep, you really do. You do your best but no matter how much you try, you only keep turning around, unable to turn off your head. You groan, getting up again and staying as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t wake up your fiancé. He seemed to have no trouble sleeping. 

You walk to the nearest window in the room, opening it so the cold air could hit your face. The sun is slowly rising up and as you watch the sky gain more colors, your mind becomes even more of a mess. “For fucks sake,” you curse under your breath, closing the window again and looking around the room to find your clothes. 

“You’re stupid, annoying, bothersome and absolutely screaming trouble,” you babble, your feet rushing towards the cage faster than they ever did. Wonwoo looks confused as he watches you, frowning as he accidentally kicks into the iron fence while stretching his legs. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t know,” you respond, unlocking the cage. You really don’t. You’re not sure what has gotten into you but you don’t have the time to question it. “Get up,” you command and it takes him a second to process what is happening. He quickly stands up, a part of him hoping he isn’t reading you completely wrong and you aren’t planning on taking him to the angels yourself. 

“You–” 

“Be quiet and follow me,” you order, looking around to make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. “Before I regret it,” you add, finally meeting his eyes. You grab his arm, pulling him with yourself as you try to rush to the forest behind the village. He stops you. “Wait, you can’t.” You try to make him move again but he is too heavy for you. You groan, letting go of his arm. “Can’t you just listen to me for a second? I need to get you out of here before Hao wakes up. I don’t know how much time we have left.” 

He gazes into your eyes, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He wants to go, live, but his head can’t win a fight with his heart. He can’t let you do this. Your name leaves his lips and your heart feels heavy. “Lock me back up. Go to bed and live your life.” 

You hesitate, unable to look away from him. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” you say, grabbing his hand again with pleading eyes. “So, please. Come with me.” 

Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat when your words reach his ears and all his initial worries and plans to make you come back to your fiancé disappear. He tugs on your hand, pulling you closer with ease. Your body presses against his due to the movement and you try your best not to freak out at the sudden intimacy. 

He isn’t sure what has come over him but his hand moves up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over it softly. You gaze into his eyes, trying to figure out what is going on in his mind, but before you can read him fully, he leans down to you, his lips brushing against yours slightly. It’s not a full kiss but your breath shakes nonetheless, sending shivers down his spine. 

You never imagine there would be a time in your life where you’d be kissing someone other than Minghao, yet, here you are, pushing your lips against Wonwoo’s urgently, your right hand moving up to the back of his neck where you tug at his hair slightly, causing a light moan to escape his lips. 

“W-wait,” you pull away, your left hand squeezing his biceps as he holds you close to himself by your waist. “I– I have a fiancé,” you say but do nothing to get away from him. Wonwoo smirks, squeezing your waist tighter. “Oh, yeah?” He coos, watching as your cheeks turn red. “Then why are you here?” Because you make me feel seen and alive. You stay quiet, and his smirk grows wider. 

You try to open your mouth and say something, anything to brush that smirk off his face, but when the muffled voices reach your ears, you know there is no time for that. He nods to you, turning around to try and see how much time left you had. “Wait, I need to do one more thing,” he proclaims, running back to the cage. He picks up your book and throws it your way before flaming at the lock, making sure his escape would look like an accident. 

“Come on, we need to run,” you hurry him, grabbing his hand as soon as he is close enough. You’re not sure yet if this is something you’ll regret later but you don’t care. This might have been exactly what you needed in your life all along. 

The warmth of Wonwoo’s hand keeps you calm as you run through the forest, each of your steps ringing in your ear as a reminder of what you were doing. 

“Can’t we slow down now?” He asks but it feels like talking to a wall. He sighs, squeezing your hand tighter with a slight pull to stop you. You stumble on your feet, sending a glare his way. He laughs quietly, stopping completely. “Come here,” he mumbles and you watch him hesitantly. You step closer to him after a bit of thinking, biting the inside of your cheek as he smiles at you. 

Wonwoo looks down at you, finding himself falling into your eyes as you look up at him. He wishes he could engrave the image into his head and be able to look at it at any time. “We can’t slow down now,” you break the silence carefully. He shakes his head, “We can.” 

“I need a break,” he proclaims and you raise an eyebrow at that. Were his physical abilities that bad? “Something that would take my mind off things,” he adds, the look in his eyes suggestive as he closes the space you left out between the two of you, brushing off a few hair strands off your face with his fingers to see you better. You gulp as you realize what he has in mind, anticipation slowly building up in you. 

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out his name, creating a smile on his lips. “Yeah?” He coos softly, staying in place which somehow drives you more crazy than if he had closed the space between you completely. “You’re terrible,” you curse at him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling him down so you could reach him. 

Your lips crash onto each other within seconds, the kiss full of need and lust neither of you are able to explain with words. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his fingers digging into your flesh as he searches for more, anything that could provide him some extra pleasure. 

“We really–” The rest of your sentence gets swallowed as he kisses you again, unable to let go. He smirks against your lips when you leave out a moan, the grip you have on his shirt tightening. You pull away, ignoring his disagreeing whine and pushing him away with all the power you have. “We need to keep moving,” you state, refusing to play this game of his. “Let’s go.” 

Wonwoo mumbles some quiet curses under his breath but obeys, letting you lead the way as you wander through the forest, trying to find the quickest but also most discreet way back to the demon kingdom. 

“Are you sure that is where you want to go?” He asks, hesitant. The king’s orders were clear: don’t come back unless you’ve made a mess with the angels. “Where else would we go? The angels? I don’t think so,” you respond, only looking forward as you follow the road under your feet. He sighs, rethinking his opinions. “We could just stay out here, somewhere. Go to the beach, or maybe blend in somewhere near the humans,” he offers and you stop again, turning around to face him. “Are you serious right now?” 

You sigh, looking around and running your hand through your hair as you try to think. “Look, I know the king sent you on this unreasonable mission but we need to get you back to where you’re safe. The angels might not be actively looking for you, but I’m sure Minghao is. He’ll realize we are together sooner or later.” 

He knows you’re right, that you can’t just stay out here, but the thought of sneaking back into the kingdom scares him more than he’d want to admit. “You’re right,” he nods after a second of silence. “Let’s continue and figure things out as we go.” 

You smile at him, giving him a reassuring nod before you hold his hand again, resuming your plan. 

Wonwoo stops when he hears muffled voices coming from somewhere on his left. You share a glance with him confusedly but he doesn’t explain anything as he tries to make sense of what he hears. “Surely not…” he mumbles, narrowing his eyes and trying to capture the movements nearby. He scoffs, finding it unbelievable as he sets his eyes on two male figures. 

“What is it?” You ask, looking the same way he is. When you spot two men in the distance you quickly create a fireball in your hand, the same one you attacked Wonwoo with when you first met. “Wait, no need,” he stops you before you can fire their way. “These two aren’t dangerous,” he laughs quietly, watching them with a smile on his face. 

“Finally!” The shorter one yells excitedly, running towards the two of you, his friend right behind him. “We thought you were dead!” 

You watch them cautiously while Wonwoo greets them as if they were old friends and then it finally clicks. You redirect your attention to the blond one, tilting your head slightly. “Lee Chan?” You question and he looks your way, nodding. “And that is Seokmin?” You guess and this time it’s Wonwoo that nods, his grin growing wider at the thought of you actually listening to what he was talking about before. 

“And you are…?” Seokmin asks carefully when he reaches you, sending a knowing look towards Wonwoo before you can even answer. You introduce yourself shortly, also explaining how you found yourself here with the demon prince when they ask you. “I see,” Seokmin nods, chuckling a bit when he looks at his friend again. “Looks like you’ve had fun while we were searching for you.” 

“If your view of fun is being locked up in a cage then of course.” 

“You didn’t seem to complain much before,” you tease him, finding amusement in the way Wonwoo can’t hide his smile when he looks at you, memories of the previous night vivid in his head. “How could I when I had this pretty fairy next to me?” He teases you right back, watching your cheeks turn red. 

Chan clears his throat to remind you they were still there and you avert your eyes from the prince, embarrassed. “Uhm…” Chan starts when he has your attention again, quickly exchanging a glance with Seokmin. The switch in the atmosphere is immediate, and your smile disappears off your face even quicker when you notice the pitiful look in the blond’s eyes. Whatever he wanted to say next was going to hit. 

“There is something you should know about,” Seokmin proclaims and Wonwoo’s eyes quickly flick between his two friends, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “The king…” he hesitates, trying to find the right words for the message he was bearing. “Shortly after you left yesterday, he ordered for Misoon to be killed,” he admits, the words barely above a whisper. Yet, Wonwoo hears them better than anything else before. She was– She– He froze, starting to feel dizzy as the words ring in his ears. Everything around him becomes blurry, the voices of his friends muffled as he tries to regain his composure. 

“We were all shocked, some of the guys asked too many questions and he–” Seokmin pauses, the pity in his eyes changing to worry as he catches the switch in Wonwoo, debating on if he should continue or not. “He dismissed all of us, said the knights won’t be needed for a while now. He told the public our latest mission was successful and there was nothing to worry about now. And as far as we know, Monsoon’s death was…masked as an accident,” he continues even though he isn’t sure Wonwoo is still listening. 

You catch the change in the demon’s eyes as well, carefully squeezing his hand in yours, trying to find the right words to say. Wonwoo turns his head towards you slowly, blinking as he tries to make sense of the situation, figure out what was the reasoning behind all of this. “I’m…I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head slightly as if it could help him shake off all the information too. 

“It’s okay not to be fine,” you assure him, your thumb moving in slow circles on the top of his. You watch him bite the inside of his cheek as he holds himself back, his eyes flickering to his two friends next to him and then back to you. You nod, somehow understanding the small movement. You know it’d be a lot easier to comfort him if they weren’t around, if you could just pull him into a hug, but you know Wonwoo doesn’t want that. Not now with them watching the two of you. You understand, and don’t push him. 

“It’s been a mess,” Chan mumbles carefully, staring at the ground beneath his feet. “And we thought it’d be better to let you know that before we get back.” The demon prince nods, the grip he has on your hand becoming tighter as if he searched for your support through it all anyway. “Thanks,” he whispers, doing his best to hold up. Not only in front of them, but also you. 

The thought rushes through him so fast he barely gets a chance to catch it, but when he does, it’s like a reminder of what he is doing at the moment. Why were you here again? No matter how strongly drawn to you he fell, he didn’t know you. You didn’t know him and yet, here you were, holding his hand and trying to help him accept everything his friends just told him. He glances your way, the sincerity piercing through your eyes as you exchange eye contact with him before turning to the two knights beside him, saying you should get moving again. 

They both hesitate, as if they weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do. “She is right,” Wonwoo speaks up quietly, remembering what he was hiding from. “There is an annoyed fairy prince somewhere behind us that wants to give me to the angels and watch me die,” a chuckle leaves his lips as he finishes but he isn’t sure why. There is nothing funny about it, he knows that. Yet, he can’t control it. 

Seokmin and Wonwoo share a brief glance, telling each other everything they need with their eyes before the younger man wraps his arm around Chan’s shoulder, forcing him to walk first with him in order to give you and the prince space. 

You stay silent at first, not sure what you should say. You didn’t know who Misoon was, or why it mattered so much to him that she was dead now, but you didn’t have the heart to ask either. You didn’t know how to comfort him, tell him everything would be okay again without sounding off. It felt like it wasn’t your place to do so. 

Wonwoo seems to catch the hesitance you feel as he walks with you, following right behind his friends. You seem tense no matter how he looks at it. A sigh leaves his lips, causing you to look up at him. “She…raised me,” he whispers softly as if he was reading your mind. “Misoon was like a mother to me, especially after my biological passed away,” he admits and your eyes widen, suddenly feeling worse about the situation. 

“I’m sorry, Won,” you whisper, giving his hand a firm squeeze. A smile tugs in the corner of his lips as he watches you. He doesn’t question why you’re there anymore. He might not know you fully yet, but he knows he’d be a fool to let you get away. 

“I just wish there would be a way for you to make me feel better…” he leans down to you, his hot breath landing softly on your ear and sending shivers down your spine. He glances at his two friends again and then back at you. “Something that would really take my mind off things.” 

It’s more than obvious what he’s suggesting and you have to bite your bottom lip in order not to give him the reaction he wants. As much as you’d love to help him out, you’re not sure if it’d be a good idea. Not only because of the guys accompanying you, but also the current state of his. You couldn’t just give him your body as a tissue. 

“Wonwoo…” His name leaves your lips and you turn to him, examining his face. You stop after a moment of hesitation, sighing. “Don’t do this.” 

“Do what?” He asks, the smile still on his lips. Yet, it feels forced the more you look at it. 

“Turning off. That’s what you’re doing right now.” He blinks a few times, trying to make sense of your words. “You’re turning off your head, your emotions just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain.” 

“I’m not doing that,” he disagrees and you exhale again. “Yeah? Then explain why you’re behaving like this? It’s okay to be sad, to be emotional over this,” you remind him and he frowns. “You can’t just act like nothing happened and fuck your emotions into me.” 

He hears you, he really does. He knows you’re right and can see where you’re coming from, but the moment you finish, he can’t help it and imagine how good that’d feel. With you bent over one of the large stones on the side of the road, your pants with your gear on the ground as he slams his hips against yours, his mind on you and you only. He imagines the pretty sounds you’d make under him, screaming his name while he bites your shoulders from behind, leaving love bites all over your body. 

His dick twitches at the mare thought of it and he is sure to lose his mind soon. 

“Are you serious?” You ask, your eyes falling to the growing bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry,” he groans, averting your eyes as he looks for his friends to make sure they aren’t looking your way. “But it really isn’t about my head turning off, or avoiding things,” he proclaims, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I want you so bad, and I’d want you no matter the situation.” 

The words mean nothing but horny blabs as he searches for some pleasure, you know that, and yet, they make you feel some sort of way. He looks somehow sincere as he gazes into your eyes, the words feeling like a confession when they leave his lips. 

You shake your head slightly, trying to think of a solution. You just can’t let him walk around the forest with a boner, can you? “Stay quiet,” you warn him, pointing to the side of the road to signal for him to go there. He tries to find answers in your eyes, anything that would help him figure out if you were going to fulfil his fantasies or let him suffer by himself, but he sees nothing. Still, he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. 

As if he knew something was off, Seokmin turns around to talk to Wonwoo to get his mind off things, but when he doesn’t see him or you behind them, he stops. He looks around, closing his eyes in realization when he notices you running off to the forest, somewhere where he or Chan couldn’t bother you and play the third wheel. 

“What is it?” The blond turns around as well, confusedly looking at his friend when he doesn’t see you or his prince anywhere. “We better wait for them, this might take a moment,” Min sighs, exchanging a look with Chan before he points to a fallen tree on the other side of the road where they could wait. 

You don’t say anything as you push Wonwoo on one of the trees, pressing your lips on his before he can complain, his arms wrapping around you in an instance, the bulge in his pants pressing against you as he pulls you closer. His hands wander under your shirt, quickly squeezing your breast as if you were to disappear any second. 

You whine into the kiss, unbuttoning his pants to give him what he was craving so much. He tries to do the same, his hands moving to pull down your pants but you quickly press your palm on his chest, stopping him. “You’re not getting everything,” you proclaim and something in his eyes switches. “Don’t be too greedy and just let me take care of it, alright?” He nods, too lost in the moment to be able to argue with you. 

He imagined this differently—he thought it’d be him taking the lead, guiding you through everything as he had no hope for your fiancé to be anyone who’d know how to show you any pleasure—but he couldn’t say he’d mind how things turned out. Honestly, he’d let you take the lead anytime if that was what you wanted. 

You tease him through the fabric of his underwear, proudly smiling as you listen to his moans while squeezing his cock softly, his pre-cum starting to leak through the thin layer that was still covering him. “You look a bit broken,” you mumble, smirking as you watch him throw his head back, trying to keep the sounds leaving his mouth as quiet as possible. “Your—fuck—your fault,” he manages to say between broken moans. 

“Oh yeah?” You tease him, finally pulling down his underwear and letting his hard-on breathe. “My fault? Weren’t you the one basically begging me to let you fuck me?” He asks, palming his length slowly. Too slow. He quickly catches your wrist in his hand, leaning down and resting his forehead on your shoulder. You chuckle, your free hand running through his hair. “‘S okay,” you coo, resuming your movements when he slowly lets go of your hand. 

It’s that moment when he realizes he was so incredibly wrong. About you, your experience, but also about himself. Because now that he has you so close, gliding your hand up and down his cock, he admits to himself something he thought he’d never do—he didn’t want to take the lead. He wanted to obey you, do whatever you tell him to and be good for you. 

Oh god. He closes his eyes as he slowly thrusts his hips towards your hand, chasing for more. He was in so much trouble. 

As you walk back to meet with Seokmin and Chan, you feel a bit awkward. You’re not sure how long you’ve been there but you know it changed your whole view on Wonwoo. Somehow, you wanted him even more than before now. Something about him, the way he clung to you, whined at your touch and now followed you as if he was your puppy, made your head spin in a way you didn’t know you could feel. 

Wonwoo clears his throat, avoiding making any eye contact with the guys. “Sorry we– We thought we heard something so we went to check it out, turns out it was just a wild animal.” 

“Oh yeah?” Seokmin starts, not letting him brush it off so easily. “What animal?” Wonwoo hesitates, trying to remember what animals lived in this region of Aethera. “Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I know what animal has gotten wild,” he jokes and the way both of you turn red is embarrassing. 

Chan laughs at the sight, shaking his head as he stands up. “Let’s keep going, we need to get as far as possible before the sun sets.” You nod slightly, swallowing a lump in your throat as you quickly glance at Wonwoo before averting your gaze again, focusing on the task at hand. 

As the sun sets down and you reach an empty cave, you all agree to settle down for the night. “Min, can you help me out?” Wonwoo asks as he stops at the entrance. It’s not a question towards you but you still feel curious, your eyes flicking from one boy to the other as they leave the cage together, not bothered enough with explaining themselves. 

Chan seems to catch your glances because as he helps you make a fire that will keep you guys warm through the night, he speaks up. “Don’t worry about them, whatever it is that they are doing I don’t think it’s anything to be scared of.” You hum with a nod, brushing your hands together as you stand up again once you’re done. 

You hesitate as you watch the blond, biting the inside of your cheek and wondering if the question you’re about to ask isn’t too insulting. “Uhm…” you start and he immediately looks up at you, his eyebrows raised in question. “What is it?” He wonders, his voice soft. “The demon king…” you furrow your eyebrows as you try to find the right words. “Don’t you think he’s a bit, well, unreasonable? Cruel? I mean, why would he send his own son on an impossible mission? Alone on top of that.” 

Chan’s eyes soften when you finally ask what’s been bothering you, his eyes trailing off to the ground again as he thought about his answer. “I can’t disagree with that,” he mumbles, raising his head again. “Honestly, he is probably worse than what you think, but we need a king no matter what. And since Wonwoo hasn’t shown any interest in taking over…we never had a choice. It is what it is, I guess,” he shrugs, standing up slowly. 

“I’m not sure what goes through His Majesty’s head, no one does, I think, but I’d like to look at it from the brighter side. Now that Wonwoo found someone, it’ll be much easier for him to become our king when we come back,” he smiles, so genuinely you don’t even register his words at first. 

But then it hits you. Now that Wonwoo found someone. Your eyes widen when the words ring in your ears but before you can say anything, Chan is on his way out to find the other two. 

Has he found someone who was going to help him take over the throne? Did you manage to run away from your fiancé who was holding you back on your every step just to fall into the same thing all over again, this time, with a demon? You hated just the thought of that. The suffocating feeling of having to deal with that—the limitation, all over again made you sick. 

You looked around the cave, debating if this wasn’t your sign. Everyone was gone, no one would notice if you just left. Maybe you should, maybe you’d be much happier if you ran away again, somewhere where no one knows you and you could do whatever you want. 

The thought crossed your mind, staying there until you shook your head and took a deep breath in an attempt to make it go away. Because as much as you know you’d love the freedom it would get you, you can’t. You don’t have the courage to just leave without a single word. Wonwoo had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing, and for some reason, you didn’t even mind. 

“Hey,” Seokmin’s voice makes you turn around. You raise your eyebrows confusedly, “Hi?” You watch him hesitate and glance behind himself before he speaks again and it makes you even more curious about what he and Wonwoo were doing. “I think we might need your help, he can’t focus,” he says simply, waiting for you to leave with him without saying anything else. 

You follow him out, your eyes widening immediately when you see Wonwoo’s full form, his wings out with his tail slowly swinging in the back. You’ve seen a few demons before but there was something different about him. His wings touched the ground and his horns were suddenly longer than before. Yet, it wasn’t the first thing you noticed. The biggest difference was in his eyes—they had turned dark red. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to see through them, only being met with the same hunger he’s been looking at you with since earlier. 

“What’s–” You barely get to blink before Wonwoo interrupts you with a sigh, saying he can’t clear his head well enough. “Okay but…what are you doing?” 

“Exploring his powers,” Seokmin answers instead, walking around you to grab one of the small rocks on the ground. “Chan,” he says softly, and as if on cue, the blond fires at the stone, breaking it apart with ease. “This is something most of—if not all—demons can do but Wonwoo…” he trails off, picking a bigger rock this time and throwing it at the demon prince. He catches it, lighting it up on fire with ease. The rock doesn’t break in his hands, it just keeps flaming. “This is nothing compared to what he is fully capable of, but it’s still better than a lot of demons can do.” 

“And you acted so immersed when you read through my book,” you scoff slightly, watching as his lips curl up into a smile right after. “It showed me what you were capable of,” he shrugs simply and you shake your head at him. 

“So, let me guess,” you start, walking closer to the demon prince to fix his shirt. “You guys are attempting to do what he did when he was fighting the angels before? That weird state?” Seokmin and Wonwoo blink a few times, confusedly exchanging a look together. “How do you…” 

“Jeonghan,” you explain, softly smiling at the boy in front of you before you take a step back again. “He told me and three other fairies when he came to ask us for protection from the demons. I was curious what it looked like.” 

Chan steps back while Seokmin gets closer to the prince, carefully touching one of Wonwoo’s wings. “They grew a lot after it happened,” he says, pushing his own wings out of his body. “They were as big as mine before we left the kingdom.” Your eyes widen at the difference and you confusedly shoot a glance towards Chan. “That’s not…they’re twice as big now!” 

“And his eyes,” he points, continuing. “You noticed the chance, right?” You nod, carefully examining his body as you look for any other changes. Your eyes stop at his crotch, your cheeks slowly heating up as you begin to wonder if he had grown in other places as well. 

“You’re blushing,” Wonwoo points out and you immediately curse him out in your head. “No, I’m not,” you argue, clearing your throat as you look at the guys before you. “Okay, let’s see then,” you change the conversation immediately before he can have any more comments. “Show me this state you were in and maybe we’ll be able to figure it out together.” 

Wonwoo smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat as you lean your back against the tree behind you, carefully observing him, actually wanting to help out. 

He closes his eyes for a second, his wings twitching as he tries to light them up on fire, just like he tried back then when he fought the angels. You notice his tail swing with full force into the ground, almost as if it was protesting against it. You hum, trying to think of a solution. 

“Guys, can you leave me and Wonwoo alone for a bit?” You ask, causing them all to look your way. You feel all six eyes on you but don’t take your eyes off the prince, barely registering the two guys leaving. “They are gone,” Wonwoo says quietly and you hum again. “What was that for?” 

“I think you need to fire yourself up before you try to fire up something as large as,” your eyes flicker between the end of one of his wings to the other, “that.” 

“I’m doing that, though, no?” He questions and you take a step forward. “Just stay quiet and use your senses, okay?” He frowns but nods nonetheless, his eyes following your every movement as you walk closer to him. “Hearing,” you start, motioning for him to lean down so you could reach him. “Remember my hand on your cock,” you whisper, your breath landing just above his ear. He quickly turns his head to face you, almost embarrassed. “Trust me.” 

Wonwoo can’t quite understand what you’re trying to do or how it’s supposed to help him but he listens, closing his eyes again as his memory travels back to a few hours ago. He can still feel your fingertips on the tip of his cock as you teased him, the coos you whispered into his ear slowly coming back. No matter what you wanted to achieve with this, he couldn’t complain about your methods. 

He groans quietly, opening his eyes again when his dick twitches in his pants. “I’m getting hard again,” he mumbles, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes land on your half naked figure, your breast on full display for him. He swallows, hard. “What are you…” 

“Sight,” you whisper softly, smirking. “Oh, yeah?” There’s a smirk on his face now as well as he slowly realizes what you’re doing and he cups your cheek, leaning down again to place a kiss on your lips. “And what about touch?” He asks and you immediately guide his hands to your breast, letting him squeeze them however he wants. The groan that leaves his lips makes you feel hotter than it should, and you almost lose your mind when he mumbles into your kiss again, “and taste?” 

You pull away from him, hesitating for a second before you slowly trace your fingers under your pants, a moan escaping your lips as you push two of your fingers into your cunt, collecting your wetness on them as you finger yourself, watching his mouth fall open, unable to take his eyes off you. 

“Taste,” you say, bringing your fingers to his mouth. He doesn’t waste a second before his lips wrap around your finger, moaning as he gets the taste of you. You will be the death of him at some point, he was sure of that. “So fucking good,” he mumbles, his saliva dripping on your fingers as you pull them out. 

“You smelled my fingers too, right?” You blink at him innocently and his head spins as he nods, his clothed dick begging for release. “Now, then, close your eyes again.” He listens immediately and for a second you think about how easy it would be to play with him. He trusted you, maybe more than he should after knowing you for so little. 

Your eyes fell down to the bulge in his pants, certain that his body was on fire by now. “Try again. Focus on your wings, on what you want them to do,” you guide him softly, pulling your shirt back on as you start feeling the cold air hit your skin. 

He stands still, it might have been a few seconds, minutes, or even an hour. He wasn’t sure, honestly. But when he opened his eyes again, noticing Seokmin watching him with his eyes widened, he knew he had accomplished what he wanted to. He looks around, almost swinging his wing into you by accident. Thankfully, you manage to dodge it and laugh, your smile proud as he watches his wings—now flaming—in awe. 

“How did you know?” Chan turns his head to you and you shrug. “Jeonghan said senses–” you pause, tilting your head and closing your eyes as you realize what your next move needs to be. You turn to the small lamp hanging on the tree branch that lights up the place for you all to be able to see and then back at Wonwoo. “I know this might seem a bit insane, but I think we should go see Jeonghan in the morning.” 

The guys try to argue with you, telling you how badly that would go, but you brush them off with one shake of your head. “For some reason, he knows about Wonwoo and his powers more than any of us. If we want to figure this out…we need to.” They exchange a glance, knowing you are right. When no one says anything, Wonwoo extinguishes the fire again and hides his wings, his tail following right away with a sigh. “Let’s do it,” he agrees, nodding slightly. “Even if things go left, we have an addition to our team now,” he smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He doesn’t wait for his friends’ opinion, simply leading you back inside the cave. 

The night is cold to say the least, so it’s no surprise you find yourself cuddled up in Wonwoo’s arms while his two friends lay on the other side of the cave. You were confused why at first, but when Wonwoo sent them one glare that explained everything, you didn’t ask anymore. 

“This is…weird,” you mumble into his chest, his breath landing on the top of your head as his fingers make small circles on your back. You couldn’t remember the last time you laid like this with your fiancé, barely remembering what his touch felt like. It’s been weeks since you had the time for each other—he always blamed it on being either too busy or tired—and even though it felt like the spark between the two of you was disappearing, a part of you felt bad for lying like this with a different man now. 

“Hm?” Wonwoo hummed. “What is?” 

You raise your head slowly to look at him, your eyes softening when you gazed into his. Despite all that, the moment you see his face you can’t help but feel like it’s right. Like you’re exactly where you belong—in his arms. 

“Us,” you whisper, biting the inside of your cheek. “Don’t you think so?” He groans in response, watching you through his eyelashes. “No?” He waits a second, his eyes wandering all over your face, and you blink confusedly, trying to see what he is thinking. “This feels good, actually.” 

“Or do you really think otherwise?” He questions and for a second you think you might see a sign of vulnerability in his eyes. It takes you a second to think about it, but you shake your head in the end. “You know,” he clears his throat, pulling his hands away from you and resting them behind his head as he lays on his back, staring into the darkness. “Chan told me what you talked about before.” 

You don’t answer, so he continues. “I’d like to think I found someone,” he mumbles softly and Chan’s words ring in your ears again. “I don’t know what we are doing here or what it is between us, but it does feel good.” — “But that’s just how I see it,” he looks your way again, swallowing hard as his eyes drop to your lips. “That’s how I felt since you dragged me by my horn to the ground.” 

“That felt good?” You tease him, taking the chance to ease the atmosphere a bit. You aren’t sure if you want to hear what he says next, too scared to go through the same thing you did with Minghao again. “So fucking good,” he admits. You raise your hand to his head, your fingers softly running through his hair and then making their way back to the horn on his head. You wrap your hand around it, your breath shaking when you hear the groan that leaves his lips. 

He rolls over so he is on top of you, a smirk tugging in the corner of his lips. “The guys are just over there,” you say, the words barely above a whisper. “They are asleep,” he shrugs. “Wonwoo.” It’s meant to make him hesitate, realize that you shouldn’t, but instead, he leans down to your ear. “If you want me to stop so much, why are you still pulling at my horn?” 

He smirks when you don’t say anything, your cheeks gaining the color pink. “Maybe I don’t want to,” you mumble, watching as his eyebrows twitch every time you squeeze. It looks like he is trying to hold himself back, biting his bottom lip so no sounds would leave his mouth. “Good, because I don’t want to either,” he says, and before you can add anything else, his lips brush against yours. 

You pull him close, returning his kiss without hesitation. Your legs wrap around his waist, the space between you disappearing. “Can you stay quiet, though?” He asks and you smirk, giving his horn a tight squeeze again. “Can you, baby?” 

The nickname alone sends shivers down Wonwoo’s spine, not to mention the way you begin to pull his clothes off, your eyes needy. He really wants to be in charge, prove himself to you, but he already knows there isn’t a big chance at that when you switch your positions, sitting on top of him instead. 

“You’re quite desperate, don’t you think?” You tease, leaning down to his ear so he can know what it feels like. “First you get a boner just at me mentioning you fucking me and now you’re trying for it again? One might think you’re just a horny teenager.” 

“Or is it the demon genes?” You ask, kissing his neck and slowly moving down to his collarbone. “Do all demons have a high sex drive? Maybe just the royal ones?” 

He moans at your touch, quickly closing his mouth again in an attempt to keep it down. He can’t risk the guys waking up in the middle of this. Not only did he know he’d get teased about it for the rest of his life, but he also wouldn’t let them see you. Your naked body, wrapped with his, was for his eyes only. 

“Doesn’t matter, you won’t get to explore any other demons,” he says, making you chuckle. No matter how hot he is, you find him cute. You grind your hips on top of him, your hands resting on his chest. His eyes follow your every movement, his cock growing harder under you. You smile to yourself as his fingers tug at your shirt, begging for you to get it off. 

He moves quickly, getting rid of all your clothes as soon as possible so he could feel you fully on himself. “Please,” he whispers. You lean down again, catching his lips in yours as your hand wraps around his base, aligning him at your hole. As you slowly sit down on him, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, his hands find your waist, helping you get comfortable. 

Soon after you start moving again, your hands on his chest again for better control. You went slow, wanting to see his reaction. It was painfully obvious what he thought of that when you looked him in the eyes, his whole fighting with himself not to thrust his hips up against you. However, when you don’t speed up even after a while, he squeezes the flesh on your ass and thrusts you down onto him, harsh and fast. You gasp, your mouth falling open as he controls the speed, hitting the right spot. 

“You don’t–ngh–have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says suddenly in between groans, causing you to look down at him. It was a weird thing to say while you bounced on his cock. “What?” Your arms give up at the same moment and you fall onto his chest, glad he took over earlier. “We don’t have to–” he swallows the rest of his sentence as your nails dig into his shoulders, a whine escaping his lips. “Do the whole king and queen thing,” he continues, mumbling quiet curses in between. “I want you to do what you like, fight, sword-train, anything.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s talking about. He is coming back to your previous conversation. Your breath shakes as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, letting him talk. You’re so glad this is the position you’re in right now. You wouldn’t want him to see how watery your eyes get all of a sudden when he shows you he cares. 

“I just want you to be there with me. Us, together,” he thrusts his hips up after each word, sending you over the edge. You clench around him, another moan leaving his lips as he gets closer to his climax. “Al–Alright,” you agree, gasping when his cum fills you up and collapsing fully onto him afterwards. 

He rests his hands on your back, turning around so you’d both lay on your sides. “Alright?” He coos and you nod. He closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips on yours again while also forcing his wings up, covering your bodies with just one of his wings. He’ll worry about the clothes in the morning again. 

You snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his arm when he offers and closing your eyes. You can’t wait to find a river in the morning and wash yourself. 

You ignore the teasing glances from Chan and Seokmin as you leave the cave, Wonwoo right behind you. You have clothes on now, finally, but you can’t say it would have been the same when the two woke up and walked to you and Wonwoo to wake you up as well. Thank god Wonwoo covered you with his wing last night. 

“Wonwoo, are you coming with us?” Chan questions. Wonwoo immediately glances between his friends and you, trying to see what you thought. Going on a hunt for food with his friends or finding a river with you and then watching you shower? He had his preference clear, there was no questioning that. 

“Actually, I think I’m–” 

“Go with them,” you encourage him, chuckling when you see the hurt look on his face. You step closer to him, making him lean down as you go to whisper into his ear. “I know we established that you have a high sex drive last night, but I need to shower alone now to have enough energy for you later.” His breath hitches. You bite back your smile when he quickly turns his head to face you, sending him off with the guys. 

Seokmin wraps his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, saying something about going to take him under his wing. You’re not sure if he means it metaphorically or literally, but you chuckle anyway. You wave them off quickly, telling them to catch something delicious before turning around, setting off into the forest. 

“So,” Chan starts, a smirk on his face. Wonwoo frowns, already worried about what he would say next. “What’s up with you two? I mean, I knew there was something but that much?” 

He sighs, raising an eyebrow at his younger friend, as if to see if he was being serious with his question. “Why don’t you care about yourself more, hm?” Chan rolls his eyes, chanting, “Boring!!” with a laugh. Seokmin chuckles, shaking his head at him. “It’s your fault,” he comments and Wonwoo shifts his attention to him. “How so?” 

“If we didn’t see your buttcheek on full display this morning, he probably wouldn’t have brought it up at all,” Min explains, watching Wonwoo avert his eyes in embarrassment. “I don’t know why on earth you thought it was a good idea to come wake us up anyway,” he mumbles, looking at them again. Seokmin shrugs, unable to give a clear answer to that. 

“No, but seriously,” Chan pipes up again. “Should we be looking forward to, I don’t know, seeing her with you a lot when we get to the kingdom? Are you guys going to…you know, do what we’ve been all waiting for?” 

Wonwoo sighs. The thought of ruling the demons isn’t something he’d call exciting but he knows he has to. He can’t hide for much longer, stay in his room and pretend the throne doesn’t exist. Especially not when everyone seems to be counting on him so much. And, if you’re by his side during all that, maybe it won’t be that bad after all. 

“And he’s smiling,” Seokmin laughs, patting Wonwoo’s back. “If just the mention of being with her makes you this happy, you shouldn’t hesitate.” 

“We’ll take it at our own pace,” he proclaims eventually. “Well, considering you guys slept together after only knowing each other for like, what, two days, I think we can expect the wedding next week,” Chan laughs and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. 

He doesn’t say anything else after that, refusing to respond to his friends’ teases and questions about how the night with you was. The fact it was the best night of his life is something they don’t need to know. 

“How exactly do you want us to get there without running into any fairies or different angels?” Chan questions, leaning forward on the stone in front of him. “Well,” you start and Seokmin takes out his map of Aethera, telling his younger friend to move away so he can set it down. Chan groans but obeys, taking a step back. “You see the Little village? While I was on a mission last month, I stumbled in and that was where I saw Jeonghan for the first time. I’ve heard he’s got a lady there.” 

“So we’re just assuming he’ll be there? What if someone reports us? This isn’t only about us as demons attacking the angels, they probably couldn’t care less if we go visit the Little village or not, but you ran away with Wonwoo,” Chan points out. “For all we know, the fairies might think he kidnapped their future queen and are on a hunt for his head now.” 

“I’ve got a friend there, he’ll let us crash at his house and I’ll ask him to let us know when Jeonghan comes around,” you assure them, looking around to see if they are all still up for it. “Alright then,” Wonwoo nods, leaning on the stone, not caring about covering half of the map with his body. “We have a plan, so let’s not delay any longer.” 

And so, the four of you set off again, cutting the road through the forest to get to your destination as soon as possible. You walk in the back with Wonwoo again, carefully holding onto him every time the road ahead looks just a bit tricky. You didn’t think it was needed at first, but after you almost tripped over a tree root, he insisted. 

“So, this human friend of yours?” He starts and you raise an eyebrow at him confusedly, the twigs on the ground cracking under your feet. “What about him?” You blink and Wonwoo has to fight the urge not to kiss you immediately again. You’re too beautiful for your own good. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “how do you know him? Who…Who is he?” 

You chuckle as you watch Wonwoo nervously awaiting your answer. He is kind of cute when he looks at you like that, with a mixture of jealousy and genuine worry. 

“I met him when we were teens. I tagged along to one of my father’s missions and we ended up needing a place to stay, so his parents offered. He yelled at a bug because he was scared, and when I set the bug on fire, he cried and said he owes me his life,” you laugh at the memory. “It was my first interaction with humans as well and his whole family made me feel really welcome. They never cared about us being fairies, and if they did, they hid it damn well.” 

Wonwoo hums as he listens to you, somehow feeling relieved. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t make it obvious to everyone that you’re not available. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take that long and shortly after four—as Seokmin informed you—you find yourself in the back of the village, listening to the muffled voices nearby. You point to the left, going first as you lead them. It’s been a while but you still remember the exact place of the house. It wasn’t the first time you sneaked in like this. 

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to just–” Before Seokmin can finish his sentence, you throw a small rock at the back door of the house, catching everyone off guard. “I take it back, it might have been better to just come in like you wanted to at first.” You roll your eyes at his comment and turn around to explain your action, but before you get the chance to do so, you hear footsteps coming closer and immediately turn on your heel again. 

“Firefly?” You smile as you hear the familiar voice behind the door before he can even open them, pointing it’s way. “That’s why I threw that rock,” you explain. “We used to do that when we were younger whenever I needed to escape from, well, life.” The door opens and your eyes land on the tall man. You feel like he might be even bigger than you remember him. 

“What’s with that nickname?” Wonwoo whispers quietly with a frown, making Seokmin laugh as they watch you come closer to the human, pulling him into a hug. “Alright, man, good luck with not setting his face on fire,” Min pats his back, walking towards you to introduce himself. 

Wonwoo quickly catches up, and just as Seokmin offers his hand to say hello, he holds the human’s hand instead. “I’m Wonwoo, nice to meet you,” he says through gritted teeth, barely registering Chan laughing behind him. “Mingyu,” the taller man smiles, quickly glancing at you before shaking his hand. “What are you guys, uhm, doing here?” 

“Min, I need your help,” you practically push Wonwoo out of the way, which only causes another way of laughter from his friends. “Anything,” Mingyu encourages you and Wonwoo immediately frowns. “Can we talk about it inside?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, stepping aside so you and your group could walk through the door. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu starts, his eyes flickering between all of the guys before setting on you again. “You finally ran away from Minghao,” he says as if it was a praise, and it makes you wonder if your relationship has been that bad all along and you just didn’t realize. “After you realized you might like a demon that you imprisoned the day before?” This time, there is a hint of irony in his voice, almost as if he was judging you. You frown, “That’s not important.” 

“Alright, I’m just making sure I got everything,” he raises his hands to prove his innocence and you roll your eyes. “Well, anyway, and now you’re here to, what, track down an angel and force him to help you uncover the prince’s powers?” 

“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad,” Chan comments, his words catching in his throat when he sees all of you turn your heads towards him. “We know it’s risky,” Seokmin proclaims, making you all turn to him instead. “But it’s the only option we have, really. And we know it’s a lot to ask, but we’d appreciate it if you could help us.” 

Mingyu smiles, nodding without a moment of hesitation. “I’m in,” he agrees, looking at Wonwoo. “Hopefully, it also means getting the future demon king on my side.” 

Wonwoo glances at you and then back at him, agreeing. “I don’t see a reason not to.” 

“In that case,” Mingyu stands up, opening his arms with a smile. “Make yourself at home.” 

You lay on the couch in the living room later that night, your legs resting on Wonwoo’s lap while Mingyu sits on a chair near Wonwoo. Seokmin and Chan had fallen asleep on the old mattresses Mingyu prepared for them earlier after getting out of the shower, so it was just the three of you now. 

“I’ll talk to Haewon tomorrow and ask how things are going between her and Jeonghan, maybe she’ll know when he’ll be here again.” You hum with a nod, smiling gratefully at your friend. “Thank you again, for everything.” 

“No need,” Mingyu shakes his head, his smile warm, comforting. Wonwoo doesn’t buy it just yet. “I told you you can turn to me whenever you need help,” he assures you before glancing at Wonwoo, chuckling when he sees the warning look. “So, Your Highness,” he mocks, finding pleasure in teasing him. Wonwoo exhales sharply. “You’re the second prince our little firefly took an interest in. I should probably take your title as a red flag after the first one, but something tells me to give you a chance.” 

“Mingyu,” you try to interrupt him, trying to stop him from some unreasonable questionnaire or an argument he might start. It doesn’t move with him the slightest bit though and you sigh. 

“Maybe I should be the one worrying about you instead, though,” Wonwoo hisses. “I mean, why exactly are you calling my lady your little firefly?” Mingyu seems caught off guard when Wonwoo fires back against him, but his smile doesn’t disappear. You, on the other hand, can’t keep your expression when the tone of Wonwoo’s voice reaches your ears. He is jealous. He’s questioning your friend because he is jealous. 

“No need to attack me,” Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “I take no interest in your lady, you have my word,” he assures the demon, glancing at you to see your reaction to the situation. There is a blush on your face, one that can’t pass by unnoticed, and your lips are curled up in a smile, your eyes set on the black-haired demon. 

“I think I’ll leave you two up to it then,” he gets up, still smiling. “Good night.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a second before Wonwoo turns his body to face you, staying on the opposite side of the couch. For now, at least. “You’re jealous,” you whisper, grinning. He frowns, shaking his head in disagreement. “Me? Jealous? Over some human boy?” 

“His name is Mingyu.” 

“I know,” he answers through gritted teeth and your grin grows wider as he practically confirms your accusation. 

“It’s fine, Won. It’s hot, actually.” You watch something in his eyes switch, but he still doesn’t admit to his behaviour, telling you he isn’t being jealous. “Yeah? Then what was that? You worry about firefly? It’s a nickname his mom gave me when we were kids.” 

When you explain it, his eyes soften. Oh god, was he being jealous of Mingyu’s mom? He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. Of course it was a nickname his mom gave you. Misoon probably would have done the same if she met you. She would have loved you. 

When the thought runs through his head, something in him breaks. He isn’t sure what it is, but he is certain it’s noticeable because the next thing he knows, you are pulling him into a hug and wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

You don’t ask, you don’t have to. You just give him what you think he might need the most at the moment. “It’s okay,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. You move to sit on his lap, still holding him as he buries his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist as well. “She would have loved you,” he whispers and you sigh, drawing circles on his back with your fingers. “She would have created some stupid nickname for you too.” 

“I’m sure she was an amazing woman,” you whisper, feeling him nod against your neck. “And she raised an awesome boy too,” you proclaim, leaning back to make him look at you. When he does, you cup his cheeks. “You are allowed to miss her and feel sad,” you assure him, pressing your lips on his. The kiss is soft, calming. “Let’s hope Jeonghan comes by tomorrow so we can get this over with as soon as possible and then get you back to the kingdom so you can say your goodbyes in person, yeah?” He nods and kisses you again, holding you close to himself, almost as if he was scared you’ll disappear as well. 

Wonwoo lays you two down on the couch, his arms never leaving you as he rests his head on yours and you snuggle closer to him, falling asleep in his arms shortly after. He holds on for a while longer, listening to the rhythm of your breath and closing his eyes, slowly drifting off. 

The room is loud when you open your eyes again, your friends’ voices mixing in together as they argue over how to have their eggs, and if they should make some for you and Wonwoo as well when they are at it or let you prepare your breakfast on your own. You groan, burying your head in Wonwoo’s chest again in protest. You don’t want to wake up just yet. 

He shifts slightly under you, carefully sitting up and looking around the room. You take a deep breath and sit up as well, trying to get your eyes to focus as you stare at your friends, their eyes on you already. “Good morning,” Chan chuckles, holding up two eggs in his hands. “You guys want some?” 

“Sure,” Wonwoo nods, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “Yeah, I’ll take some too,” you answer and the blond turns around again, handing the eggs to Mingyu who is cooking. 

“Did you even get any sleep on that couch?” Seokmin chats, joining you. You hum, “better than the cold ground yesterday.” He smiles, nodding. “Surely it doesn’t have anything on the royal beds the both of you have been sleeping on your entire lives,” he jokes and you frown. Wonwoo seems to catch it because he leans closer to you, his voice low. “I can assure you our beds are better. Probably make less sounds too.” 

You glance at him, biting back your smile. The idea of sleeping with him in his bed doesn’t seem bad at all. 

“Okay, lovebirds,” Mingyu interrupts your conversation after a while, handing you and Wonwoo your breakfasts. “I’m going to go out in a bit. I’m not sure when I’ll be back but I’ll definitely talk to Haewon today,” he assures you. “Where are you going?” You wonder, taking a bite of your eggs—they agreed on scrambled in the end. 

“Uhm, just so,” he mumbles, turning around to plate the rest. You raise an eyebrow at the lack of answer he gives you, exchanging a glance with Chan. “Oh? Does this going out include a lady by any chance?” He teases, watching Mingyu’s ears turn red. Your eyes widen, weakly hitting Wonwoo’s knee in excitement. “What? Since when do you have a girl?” You yell immediately. 

“I don’t, I don’t!” He tries to argue but it’s already too late, and before he can think of a way out of the situation, he is cornered with questions from all of you, asking who she is and how long they’ve been together. For a second, Mingyu regrets taking you in yesterday. 

“There has been a slight change in the plan,” Mingyu announces as soon as he walks through the door, making all of you look his way. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing! Don’t worry,” he shakes his head, walking straight to his kitchen corner. “I think I might have made it easier for you to approach Jeonghan actually.” 

“Do tell,” Wonwoo encourages him. “Did you find out when he’ll be here again?” 

“Yes,” he nods, looking at the clock on his wall. “In fact, he’ll be here in like…thirty five minutes,” he proclaims and you blink a few times, as if to find out if it’s just a dream you’re having. “What? How–” 

“Long story short, I ended up inviting them over for dinner because I thought it would be easier than you guys busting into Haewon’s kitchen to ambush him but then I got caught up and lost track of time, so I need your help making this dinner as quickly as possible. Now. That was your cue to get up,” he says impatiently, opening his fridge and taking out a few things. 

It takes you a second to comprehend what is happening but when you do, you jump up from your place on the couch, the three guys beside you following shortly after. “What do we need to do?” 

“Come here, I’ll give everyone a job.” 

You’re not sure how it even works, four grown guys in the kitchen somehow not standing in each other’s way. They move quickly, listening to every word Mingyu says so the food is ready for when the pair arrives. 

As the loud knock on the front door reaches your ears, you flinch. “That’s our sign. Let’s go,” you quickly say, going into Mingyu’s room with the guys to hide. Mingyu needs to set the scene first before Jeonghan sees you. 

“Alright,” Mingyu takes a deep breath, opening the door with a smile. “Hi,” he greets them warmly, pulling Haewon into a hug before shaking the angel’s hand, trying to search for any evil in his eyes. “Come in, I just finished cooking,” he steps aside and the two walk inside, looking around the house. 

“It’s similar to mine,” Haewon comments with a slight nod, smiling. “They weren’t very original while designing these I guess,” Jeonghan says, narrowing his eyes when his eyes set on the number of plates in the sink. “You live alone?” 

“I do,” Mingyu nods. “I mean, technically I do. But you know how it goes, Haewon also technically lives alone,” he jokes, leading them to the table. “Speaking of which, a lot of people are wondering what’s going to happen to you? I mean, should we expect to have an angel in our village full-time?” 

Haewon nervously glances Jeonghan’s way as she sits down, but he only shrugs. “That’s nothing they need to worry about. We are fine as we are.” Mingyu hums but he isn’t sure what to think about it. It’s been years since he first started showing up in the village, wasn’t it about time they tried to figure out something stable? 

“That’s all that matters,” he nods, setting the plates. “What about your lady, though, Gyu?” She asks with a grin. Mingyu chuckles as he sits down, rubbing the back of his neck. “It hasn’t been that long since we started going out but we are doing great,” he says, a hint of a blush on his face. 

As the dinner goes by and the conversation flows more naturally, Mingyu finally finds the courage to ask what he needs. He clears his throat, making both of his guests look up from their plates. “So, I know this might be a little sudden or inappropriate, but to be honest, I invited you here tonight because I need help,” he admits and Haewon tilts her head confusedly. 

Jeonghan scoffs, putting his fork down and giving his full attention to the man opposite him. “Just because I’m an angel, it doesn’t mean I can magically give you whatever you need.” 

“I know that,” Mingyu shakes his head. “But you do have some knowledge, don’t you?” Before the angel can open his mouth again and ask what it is that he wants to ask him, you come out of the room, your footsteps catching their attention immediately. Jeonghan smiles. “We haven’t seen each other in a bit,” he greets you and you return his smile, stepping forward. 

“Do you know your fiancé is looking for you?” You nod. His eyes soften, you think. It might have been a figment of your imagination, but you could swear you saw a slight change in his eyes. “My king was excited when he heard you had captured the demon prince, but also very disappointed when he found out he escaped.” 

“I understand.” 

Jeonghan shakes his head, stopping you before you can continue. “He wants his head now. A way to get back at the demon king. Your finacé has taken on the mission, he is leading his men as they look for him.” You swallow hard. Getting out of here might be harder than you had expected. 

“But I never agreed on anything like that,” he assures you all of a sudden. “So your new boyfriend can come out of the room and ask me what has been bothering him himself, I don’t see any reason to hand him over to my king.” 

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out what his deal is, if he is being sincere. But before you can, the three demons are standing behind you, staring at the angel. “Okay,” you breathe out, stepping aside so Wonwoo can get closer. He takes a seat next to Mingyu at the table while you and the guys stay aside, carefully observing the situation. Haewon, unlike Jeonghan, seems to have no idea what’s going on. 

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he gazes into the angel’s eyes, resting his hands on the table. “How do you know so much about me? About how my powers work?” 

“I don’t,” he shakes his head in disagreement. “I don’t know how your powers work, not really. But I guess you could say I know more than you.” 

“How?” 

Jeonghan chuckles at his impatience, turning to his girlfriend. She sighs, understanding what he wants to say after a simple eye contact. “Don’t be too long, I’ll be waiting.” He nods with a smile, leaning closer to kiss her. “I’ll try to be back as soon as possible,” he assures her and without a moment of hesitation, she says her goodbyes to all of you, saying how she wishes you good luck with whatever you need to deal with before leaving. 

“I used to know your father,” he explains, making Wonwoo frown. “Seokmin said he has never seen my father do anything like this. I mean, lighting my wings on fire? I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that.” 

The angel examines Wonwoo’s expression before humming, as if he had figured it all out. “Has your mom ever got the chance to tell you about her first love?” He asks suddenly, making Wonwoo blink confusedly. “No?” 

He hums, glancing at Seokmin and Chan. “You are all too young to know, but there used to be a demon knight that caused a lot of troubles to us angels. He possessed the same powers you do, and we never really figured out how to fight against him.” You frown when he starts his story, cringing at how cliché it sounds. As if there was supposed to appear an animated story in front of your eyes about this mysterious knight that would explain everything. 

“Even though we were on opposite sides, we became friends for a while,” he continues, something in his eyes changing as he remembers the man. “And he told me about the girl he was supposed to marry—the demon princess.” 

“Wait,” Mingyu interrupts him, the picture Jeonghan was painting with his words disappearing as you blink to look his way. “This must have been decades ago, how old are you for fucks sake?” The angel laughs, and you realize Gyu is onto something. There was no way this twenty-something looking angel could have lived through that. 

“I’m twenty eight,” he shrugs casually. “Will be for the rest of my life.” 

“What do you mean?” You furrow your eyebrows. Jeonghan leans back in his chair, looking around the room before answering. “I’ve had an…encounter with a witch once and let’s say it didn’t go that well,” he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips again. “But it did gain me immortality, even though I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing.” 

“That’s the worst curse of all,” Wonwoo comments, his words barely above a whisper as he carefully glances into the angel’s eyes. He shrugs again, brushing it off. 

“So, this knight?” Chan asks cautiously. “What happened to him? I don’t– I don’t think I’ve heard of a king like that before.” 

“That’s because he never became the king. He never married the girl he loved,” Jeonghan explains, his eyes trailing off to the plate in front of him. “He died before he could, and she had to continue living without him while his descendant grew in her belly.” You catch the small change in the tone of his voice before he can put a smile back on again, sharing his all-knowing glance with you again. 

You know it isn’t that easy for him, though. One dies, the other has to out-live them. Wonwoo was right, immortality is the worst curse of them all. Because no matter how unbothered Jeonghan wants to look, you know the thought of everyone around him dying scares him. There is no way it doesn’t. 

“Okay, what are you implying?” Wonwoo finally asks, the vulnerability in his eyes noticeable from far away. He hesitates, the words catching in his mouth. He glances at you for a brief second, taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the angel opposite him. “Who…was this baby?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer, too scared of what it could all mean. 

Jeonghan stays silent, gazing into the prince’s eyes. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, so he doesn’t. Wonwoo’s breath shakes as he slowly takes the story in. You see his leg bouncing under the table and come closer to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “How did he die?” You ask quietly, squeezing his shoulder tightly. 

“Fratricide,” he admits with a sigh. “The current king was never supposed to rule the kingdom. But I have to give him something, he did well with covering everything up. He married your mother before people found out she was pregnant, so it was easy to say you were his child.” 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo pushes his chair back, barely looking at any of you as he quickly storms out to the backyard, needing some time off. You sigh as you watch his back, glancing at Jeonghan. “Thank you.” 

“I’m not sure if you should,” he shakes his head, his eyes wandering to the back door. “I can’t help you with his powers and I doubt there is anyone who could. He’ll have to figure it out on his own.” You hum, thanking him once more anyway. “One more thing,” Jeonghan starts as he gets up. “Even though I don’t exactly know how his powers work, I know his mother was what helped his father the most. So, just stay by his side and I’m sure he’ll do big things.” 

“And if we are lucky enough, with him in the lead of the demons, the unnecessary rivalry between our kind can be solved,” he smiles one more time, briefly thanking Mingyu for dinner before he leaves the house without another word. 

“Should we…” Chan hesitates, glancing at the back door. Before he can ask his question, you are already shutting the door behind yourself, though. He sighs, looking at the two guys still in the room with him. “We should just clean up then, I guess.” Seokmin nods, helping Mingyu take all the plates and offering to wash the dishes. 

“What is the next plan after this?” Mingyu asks as he hands Seokmin one of the plates. He hesitates, watching the water fill up the sink. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “Do you mind if we stay one more night?” Mingyu smiles and gives him a reassuring nod, saying they are free to stay for as long as they need. “Wonwoo needs some time, but I’m sure once he processes everything, he’ll want to go back to the kingdom more than before.” 

“Are you sure?” Chan asks, doubting him a bit. Wouldn’t it make more sense to avoid the place from now on? 

“Yeah,” he nods. “Now that he knows the truth, he’ll want to dethrone the king more than ever. Take back what belongs to his family.” Chan hums, understanding what he means. 

“Wonwoo,” you call out after him, sighing when you see him sitting on the porch. You carefully sit down next to him, wrapping your hand around his waist as you hold him close. You don’t say anything and neither does he, relaxing in the warm silence. He rests his head down on your shoulder, closing his eyes with a deep exhale. 

“My dad is dead, and I never actually got to know him,” he whispers, his voice breaking in the middle. “I don’t…I don’t remember my mom much, but I don’t have a single memory of her alongside my fath– the demon king,” he corrects himself, almost spitting those words out. You rest your head on his, just listening. “It makes sense now why they were never together.” 

“There was no way you could have known. You heard Jeonghan, he did a great job masking it. Who knows if there is even a single person who knows he isn’t supposed to be on the throne.” Wonwoo hums in response, the sound so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Misoon probably found something. It would explain his…his order to kill her.” Your eyes soften. You don’t think you could understand the pain he’s feeling even if you tried to. 

“And now I know as well, and it’s pissing me off.” 

“Then let’s do what we can do to take it from him,” you proclaim, squeezing his bicep. You slowly raise your head and he follows right after, glancing at you. He leans closer, cupping your cheek as he presses his lips on yours firmly. “Together,” he whispers. You nod, capturing his lips on yours once more. “Together.” 

This time, you spend the night on an actual mattress. After you and Wonwoo came back inside and told everyone your plan, Mingyu offered to lend you his bed, saying something about how you need to sleep well before you set off in the morning. You didn’t argue and ended up wrapped in Wonwoo’s arms in the bed, Seokmin and Chan on the floor beside you. 

And you have to say, Mingyu was right. When you wake up the next morning, you feel a lot more energized. You’re not sure how everything will turn out today, but at least you have enough power to try to fight whatever the demon king throws your way. 

You say your goodbyes to Gyu shortly after breakfast and he promises to introduce you to his new girlfriend the next time you come to visit, not forgetting to mention he hopes that by then, you’ll be the demon queen. You chuckle, squeezing Wonwoo’s hand in yours. You don’t promise him anything, but a part of you hopes for the same thing. 

“How exactly do you want to do this? They are going to notice us if we just walk in,” Chan questions, a step behind everyone else. Seokmin slows down slightly to join him in the back so he wouldn’t have to walk alone, awaiting for Wonwoo’s answer. It’s something he has been trying to figure out as well. 

“Who’s going to notice?” You hum back, a smile on your face. “Didn’t you say the king dismissed the knights, saying they won’t be needed?” Seokmin scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. The king has made it so much easier for them without even knowing what was coming. 

“Okay, we get in, what’s next?” 

You turn on your heel with a smile, making all of them stop in the middle of the road. “Chan, I’ll need you to find the other guys, anyone you can in the shortest amount of time possible,” Wonwoo orders and the blond immediately nods. The demon prince then turns to Seokmin. “Even though the knights got dismissed, I’m sure he still has his personal guards with him so we’ll need to figure out a way to get through them, make sure not even a cleaning lady notices us walking in the hallways.” 

“We don’t have to walk, remember?” Seokmin grins, pushing out his wings. “It’s about time we stop walking all the time,” he says, encouraging them to do the same. Wonwoo chuckles, nodding. 

The next thing you know, Wonwoo holds you tightly around the waist, keeping your body pressed against his as he flies through the sky, his friends right behind him. You fight the urge to scream your lungs out as you look under you, your eyes widening when you realize just how high you are at the moment. 

They are lucky it’s actually faster when you fly because otherwise, you’d beat them up for almost causing you a heart attack with their way of transportation. 

When you step into the underworld, shivers run down your spine. It doesn’t feel like Aethera down here anymore, and you question if you can really live here for the rest of your life. However, when Wonwoo takes your hand in his and leads you through the alley, you know it’ll be okay. 

You look around as you go, your eyes falling on every one of the holes or smudges on the houses caused by fire. You’re not sure if those places caught on fire because of the location or demons but you don’t ask either. You figure there’ll be enough time for that later. 

Chan leaves the three of you alone shortly after reaching the town, running off to the local pub. He wasn’t sure where they were now, but he knows that when they were leaving, most of the knights settled down there to drink off the disappointment that came after the king’s announcement. If he was lucky enough, most of them were there again tonight. 

“Ready?” Wonwoo asks when you reach the back of the castle. You hesitate at first but end up nodding nonetheless. You came here, there was no backing down now. “Ready,” you agree and his hands wrap around you once again. He shares a glance with Seokmin before they both jump off the ground, a yelp leaving your lips as you tightly hold onto the demon prince. 

The window breaks immediately when Wonwoo slams one of his wings against it, quietly groaning when the shattering glass ends up in the same wing. He tries not to pay it any attention, though, focusing on the task at hand. “This way,” he says when his feet hit the ground again, dragging you through the hallway to get to the main hall. 

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate as he pushes the door of the main hall open, his eyes immediately landing on the king, eating fruits from a plate one of the maids is holding up. You watch the king’s eyes widen as looks at the three of you, quickly glancing at his guards, a sign for them to get ready. 

Before they can take a step forwards, Wonwoo swings his wings forward, causing everyone in front of him to close their eyes as the strong wind combined with the dust from the room hits their faces. “No one moves from now on,” he orders and your eyes soften as you watch the maid tramble in shock. 

“You, right there,” you call out to her, making Wonwoo glance at you confusedly. He quickly turns his attention back to the king, though, trusting your judgement. “Come here.” She looks at the king, her head falling down when she notices the dead stare he gives her. She shakes her head slightly, obviously scared. You’re not sure if it’s of you or the king himself. “It’s okay,” you assure her, and after a moment of hesitation, she finally walks over to you. You give her a reassuring nod before you create one of your fire ropes, tying her up. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly. “But it’ll be safer on this side, I just can’t leave you free.” She nods, still shaking. 

You come back to the two demons, tilting your head as you take in the scene in front of you. You’re in advantage right now, you think, but you’d still feel a lot better if Chan and the knights were here as well. 

“What is going on here?” The king questions, waiting, observing before his next move. Wonwoo tilts his head, smiling. “Ambush, attack, an argument, call it whatever you want, dad,” the word feels poisonous on his lips, something he wasn’t supposed to eat but did anyway. “Or wait,” his smile falls, the disgust in his voice obvious. “Actually, I should call you uncle, shouldn’t I?” 

His eyes widen but he doesn’t move. Not yet. “What are you talking about?” 

You scoff at the sudden lack of confidence in his voice, your eyes landing on one of the guards who has been staring at you. You frown. “Can we move quicker?” 

“Alright,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “This can go either one way or another. We know you killed my father, who also happens to be your older brother, so there is no need to pretend otherwise. Don’t worry, the rest of the demons you led in a lie this whole time will know soon as well,” he assures him and you can see the way the king’s jaw tenses. “What do you want?” He asks through gritted teeth. 

The prince smiles, chuckling. “What you hoped I’d never ask for. The throne.” When he doesn’t answer immediately, Wonwoo continues. “I’m the sole legal heir and I even have my queen alongside me now, there is no reason for me not to take over. So, either we’ll do this nicely, you’ll leave without a word and I will never hear of you again or…” he trails off for dramatic effect, and as if on cue, the door swings open again. 

“Or we will join your little party,” Chan’s voice echoes through the room, creating a grin on your face. You glance behind you, exchanging a proud glance with Chan when you see all the knights behind him, ready to fight. A few of them look unstable, almost drunk you’d say, but that’s not important right now. You just need the numbers. 

The king grits his teeth and his eyebrows furrow as he thinks everything through, trying to figure out what to do next. “And if I fight back?” He signs for his guards to move, but before they can take a step forward, Wonwoo swings his wings once more. You hold his hand tightly, giving him the strength he needs so he can ignite them again. The king’s eyes widen when he sees what the prince can do, swallowing nervously. 

“If you want to fight back, we can do that,” Wonwoo proclaims calmly, stepping forward. “But we both know why my father was in the front lines while they never let you into a battle. Good thing it seems like I take a lot after him.” 

“You take after him too much,” the king mutters, his fingers digging into his palm as he hits the armrest. “You’re not suited for ruling the kingdom, neither was your father! I only ever did what was the best for the demons.” 

The grip Wonwoo has on your hand tightens. You squeeze back, assuring him it will all work out. “That will be for the people to decide, not you. Your time here is done. I’m taking the throne back.” 

“You can’t force me–” Before he can finish his sentence, you fire his way, the smoke in his face occupying him enough for Wonwoo to create a fire rope, a stronger one than you could ever achieve. You smile at him proudly, sending another flame at the king so the prince would have enough time to tie him up. “You can’t just force me out!” He argues, trying to fight against the ropes around him. He fails badly. 

“I gave you the opportunity to disappear. Now, though,” Wonwoo trails off with a sigh, as if he actually cared about what was going to happen to the king. “You give me no choice. I need to live in order to take care of the demons, and the angels want a head thanks to your actions.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” Seokmin says, patting Wonwoo’s back slightly and taking the king from him with a reassuring nod. “You’ve done enough and have a lot of work to do here.” The prince smiles at his friend, mumbling a quiet thank you before he turns to face you. “You can untie the poor lady, I think we are done here.” You nod without any questions, squeezing his hand again. “Am I right, guys?” He turns to the king’s guards and they agree without a moment of hesitation, their Adam’s apples bobbing as they swallow. “Yes, yes, of course, sir. We are at your service.” 

“Great,” he smiles. “Gather all the demons then, I need to have a speech.” 

Chan and Seokmin laugh as they pat their friend’s back, congratulating on his change of title. You shake your head at them but can’t hide your proud smile. 

“Your Majesty, you were quite impressive up there,” you tease when you are finally alone, following him as he leads you through the castle hallways, showing you around. “So were you, my queen,” Wonwoo smiles back, leaning closer to capture your lips in his. It’s gentle, soothing. There’s nothing more than you could want at the moment. 

Well, maybe except for one thing. 

You kiss him back, pressing your lips against his harsher, with more need. His eyes widen in surprise but he quickly closes them again and cups your cheek, bringing you closer. “How about you show me those beds you were speaking so highly of before?” You suggest and he doesn’t hesitate, holding onto your hand tightly as he pulls you forward, finding his bedroom in the mix of the doors. 

Just as the door closes behind you, before you can get the chance to look around, he pushes your body onto the door, his kiss hungry. You smile into the kiss, hooking your arms around his neck. His hand slides up and down on your thigh, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as his kisses move lower, down to your collarbone. 

“Your Majesty,” you breathe out, sending shivers down his spine. You place your hand on his chest and push him away with ease, the grin on his face never disappearing as he backs to his bed until his legs hit the frame. He sits down, his eyes wandering from your face to your body. “You should celebrate your first day as the king.” 

“Oh, believe me, I have plans,” he holds your hand, pulling you closer. He positions you between his legs, tightly holding onto your waist as he looks up at you. You scoff at the sight, running your fingers through his hair. He looks almost desperate. Yeah, you could imagine looking at him like this for the rest of your life. 

“Mhm?” You hum with a smile as he presses a kiss on your lower belly. “Are you sure? Because I have my own plans.” 

“Yeah?” He questions, his kisses going lower. He doesn’t look at you again, entirely focused on your thigh now. “Tell me about them.” You smirk, your hands wrapping around both of his horns and pulling on them, causing him to raise his head as he whines. “They involve this pretty demon and his really nice cock.” 

He swallows, his breath hitching as he gazes into your eyes. “You’re going to drive me insane,” he mumbles, twitching slightly under your touch. “How about I ride you insane instead?” You suggest and you can see his mind short circuit under you. You chuckle, pushing him down onto his back. He moves up on the bed so his legs aren’t hanging out of the frame while you sit on his lap, leaning closer to him again. “All of you, in your real form,” you whisper, the hot breath on his ear making him shake. 

“You want to…” 

“Everything,” you nod, your hands sliding under him. He prompts himself up on his elbows, watching you curiously. You roam his back until your fingers find the scars from his wings. “Are you sure?” He asks quietly, his words barely above a whisper. “So sure,” you assure him, sitting back up again. His eyes wander all over your figure, trying to see what you wanted to achieve with this. 

Still, he listens, pushing out both his wings and his tail. He shifts uncomfortably at first but gets used to it soon after when you kiss him again. He wraps his hands around your waist, holding you. When you pull away, there’s a smirk on your face. He narrows his eyes as if to see through you, trying to figure out if he should be excited or scared. 

“I want to try something,” you say and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good,” you smile, your hand softly brushing over his clothed boner. He groans, his hips instinctively thrusting up. “What do you think?” You coo, kissing his cheek. “Do you want to taste me?” 

There’s nothing he could protest about. You, on top of him, asking him if he wants to taste you? He’d be a fool to refuse something like that. And so, he lets you do whatever you want, not saying anything as you make a pair of your fire ropes and use it to tie his hands to the bed. He stays silent even when you take off your clothes, his eyes glued to your body. He wasn’t in hell anymore. No matter how he looked at it, this was heaven. 

“Come here,” he whines impatiently, making you chuckle. You move up, carefully positioning yourself on top of his face, sitting down when he gives you a nod. Your eyes roll back almost immediately, his tongue sliding between your folds and sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it. You grab onto the bed frame at first, grinding your hips on top of him. However, as his whines reach your ears, you get a better idea. 

You look down at him, moaning just at the sight. You let go of the bed and hold onto his horns instead, the loud moan that leaves his lips after a pure pleasure to your ears. You continue riding his face while occasionally squeezing or pulling at his horns, driving him just a bit more crazy each time. 

“Fuck–shit, Wonwoo,” your movements slow down as you get closer to your climax. He has to fight everything in him not to break the stupid ropes apart and force you onto his face harsher so he could drive you over the edge when he notices how you shake, resisting the urge by chasing after your clit instead. “So good,” he praises, moaning as his cock twitches in his pants. “Taste so fucking good, baby.” 

Your breath grows heavier as you finish on his tongue, moving back to sit on his chest instead as you try to catch your breath. When your eyes fall to his face, he is smirking. You feel your heart skip a beat as he licks his lips, shaking his hands impatiently. “Come on, baby, untie me now.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “I don’t think so,” you whisper into his ear, pulling on his horns again, enjoying the way his brows twitch and he closes his eyes. He moves his hands again, with more force this time. Still, he doesn’t actually try to get out of the ropes. 

Wonwoo groans as he watches you, throwing his head back as soon as you collect yourself and start exploring his body. It starts with his horns, watching to see his reaction every time you touch them, then you slowly move across his face to his chest, tracing his bare skin under his shirt. His eyes widen again when you move to touch his wings, the feeling of your cold fingertips sending shivers through his body. 

You pull down his pants next, scoffing at how messy his underwear is by now, his precum leaking through the fabric. You grab his tail, gently moving your hand over it until you get to the end and pull, making him gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” you tease him, watching his dick twitch. “What are we going to do about this?” You coo softly, brushing your hand over his crotch. 

“Baby, please,” he whines, thrusting his hips up against the air. You shake your head, pulling down his underwear with ease. He breathes out in relief when you free his cock, watching as you wrap your hand around the base. “I said I’ll ride you insane, didn’t I?” You ask innocently, aligning yourself above his cock as you slowly sit down, a whine escaping your lips. 

Wonwoo watches you move on his cock, your mouth wide open as he thrusts his hips into you as fast as he can, almost as if it was revenge for teasing him before. You try to slow down, pull out or anything, but every time you’re only met with a harsher trust, full of need. “Wa-Wait, let me,” you say in between moans, his lips turning up into a smirk. “After you untie me,” he says, thrusting into you after each word. 

You gasp, shaking your head in protest. “N-No,” you disagree, quickly finding his tail and pulling on it to get the upper hand again. He groans, grabbing the ropes around his hands and pulling on them fiercely. You grin again when his thrusts turn sloppy and he glances at you. “Please,” he begs and your head goes blank for a second. “Want to touch you, feel you.” 

Your eyes roll back at his words, bouncing on his cock slowly again. You sigh as you gaze into his eyes, leaning down and pressing your lips on his. “Okay,” you whisper, and without another second of hesitation, he tears the rope apart, freeing his hands on his own. He holds your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he helps you move up and down, his lips never leaving yours. 

The room is shortly after filled with the mixture of your and his moans, the smell of your sweaty bodies filling the air. You don’t care at all, ignoring the sweat on your forehead as his cock slides in and out of you. You kiss his collarbone, muffling your whines against his skin as you leave love bites all over his neck, marking him yours. 

“I’m gonna–” he doesn’t even get to finish his sentence as you speed your movements, driving him over the edge. Your mouth falls open as he fills you up, slipping his cock out after a few more trusts. You fall right beside him on the bed, trying to catch your breath as you feel his cum running down your body. He prompts himself up on his elbows quickly, pushing his wings back into his body so there is enough space. He turns to you, cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss. 

You smile, kissing him back without hesitation. He gazes into your eyes, giving you one of his grins. The same grin you’re slowly falling in love with. He presses his forehead on yours, breathing heavily. “This was great,” he mumbles and you hum in response with a smile. “Can’t wait to repeat it,” you chuckle, kissing him again. 

Just as he turns you so you would be under him and places wet kisses on your neck, a sharp knock on the door interrupts him. “Your Majesty, are you in there?” He closes his eyes in protest, acting as if staying silent could help him avoid whoever was outside the door. “We need to discuss a few things regarding your duties. We should also talk about what we’re going to do with the knights, sir.” 

Wonwoo groans when the voice doesn’t leave, plopping back down on the bed beside you. You laugh at him, encouraging him to get up. He tries to argue, but the man behind the door only insists more and he is left with no other choice. He’ll just have to enjoy you again later. 

10 years later 

The laughter of your husband mixed with your daughter’s fills your ears and you watch them run around the forest while you walk behind. You know you could have taken the carriage or fly, but there was something nostalgic about walking through here. 

“She has him wrapped around her little finger,” Chan beside you laughs, watching the scene ahead. You chuckle, glancing at him and his wife. “If your son didn’t have a lesson with Seokmin today, you would be out there running with them, “ you point out and he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t argue, though. 

“Mom! Are we almost there?” Your daughter runs to you, leaving Wonwoo forgotten. He scoffs in disbelief as he watches the two of you, crossing his arms over his chest. You shake your head at him, picking up the little devil. Literally. 

“You see those houses ahead?” You point and her eyes follow your finger. “It’s right there,” you smile. She nods, resting her head on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to dad so he can carry you, yeah?” She shakes her head in disagreement, making you chuckle. “How about uncle Chan then?” You suggest, watching as she raises her head to look at the blond beside you. She thinks for a second and then nods. 

“Alright, come here, princess,” he takes her from you and you walk to Wonwoo, wrapping your arm around his. “She can’t honestly prefer him over me, right?” He asks, hurt. You laugh at him, shaking your head. “She’s a kid. You’re going to bore her from time to time. Let her play with Chan and Jisoo for now, it’s no big deal.” 

And so, for the rest of the walk, your daughter stays with the two while you lead the way to the Little Village, a smile spreading across your face immediately when you get closer. It’s been years since you’ve been here. 

“Ara! Be careful!” Wonwoo calls after your daughter as she jumps off Chan’s arms and runs around the moment you reach the center, examining every corner she can. He sighs and you shake your head slightly. “I’ll go find Mingyu and you look after her,” you proclaim, kissing your husband’s cheek. However, before you can turn around and do as you said, a strong voice interrupts you. “There’ll be no need for that, firefly.” 

Your smile grows wider as you land your eyes on the tall man, pulling him into a hug immediately. It’s only when you pull away that you notice the little human hiding behind his leg, crouching down to be at the same height. “And who might this be?” 

“You have a son?” Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he comes closer to greet the man as well. “For six years now,” Mingyu nods with a small laugh, looking down at him. “Siwoo, it’s okay. Those are my friends.” He carefully steps forward, watching you and Wonwoo. “What are you doing here?” He asks, glancing back at Wonwoo. 

“We came to visit,” you shrug, calling after Ara to come join you. “You still have to show me the mother of your son, remember?” 

Mingyu chuckles, nodding. “Come join us for lunch then,” he offers and without a second thought, you agree. 

His house is still the same it was years ago, except for a few new toys lying around and his son’s clothes everywhere on the couch. You have to smile. “I’ve heard a lot about all of you,” Mingyu’s wife introduces herself, tugging her brown hair behind her ears. You shake her hand immediately, saying how lovely it is to finally meet her. Who would have thought it’d take you ten whole years to come back here? 

After Mingyu quickly cleans up all of the mess in the living room, you all gather on the couch, leaving your kids to play on their own in Siwoo’s room. Ara was quick to befriend him, showing off her powers to him. He was scared at first, hiding behind the table, but when she made a fire snowflake in her hand, he peaked out again, curious. 

“So, the demon queen,” Mingyu starts, leaning back in his chair as he watches you proudly. “And a famous knight,” he adds, creating a smile on your face. “You heard?” 

“Jeonghan seems to know a lot of things,” he shrugs casually. His eyes flicker from Wonwoo back to you, smiling warmly. “I’m glad you got to be everything at once like you wanted.” 

You feel your eyes water at his words, the memories of the past ten years running through your mind. You did do everything you wanted. You managed to balance people’s expectations with what you always dreamed of and made the best of it. It couldn’t have been any better. 

“Hadn’t it been for her, the kingdom would be a mess,” Jisoo nods. You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment as praises start to leave your friends’ lips, extolling you as if you were some sort of goddess. “It’s nothing like that,” you quickly shake your head. “Oh, no, she’s right, it’s not,” Wonwoo agrees, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “It’s so much better.” 

And so, you chat throughout the whole afternoon with your old friends, talking about everything that comes to mind at the moment. You mention how much Ara takes after her father, and Wonwoo adds that she has your eyes. Chan talks about his son as well, ranting about how he and Seokmin’s son never leave each other’s side, bothering all of you with their crazy ideas. 

Mingyu also tells you about his son, daydreaming about his wife while she sits right beside him, and you have to smile. You know he’s found a great woman just when you look at them. You also find out Jeonghan had finally moved into the village as well, even though he often leaves to visit heaven still, staying civil with the rest of the angels. 

It feels good to know everyone is doing well. 

You rest your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, nodding as you listen. He smiles, pressing a kiss on the top of your head before he focuses on Chan’s old story about how he and Jisoo met again. When he finishes, Wonwoo can’t help but tell the story of how the two of you met, calling it the best day of his life. 

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @liaatiny @cherrylovescheol @bamgeutsz @codeinebelle @luvsicktyun @xylatox @usuallyunlikelyfox @zi-vian @brrytears @stormy1408 @dontwannacry04 @soobabby @nshmrarki ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[ghostgirl-22]

tw somnophilia but art and patrick cuddling every night to sleep and patrick always wakes up hard with art sleepily grinding his ass against him. he’ll never admit to it out loud though and patrick has to have an intervention bc he cant control himself from grabbing his hips and grinding back :( he wants him sooo bad. of course art secretly loves it 🙂‍↕️

Oh yes anon! I chopped it up a little bit but your somnophilia is still very much present </3

CW: 18+ NSFW, Somnophilia can have a dubcon to cnc element to it so obviously don’t read if that freaks you out. No proofreading is the norm.

——

The problem starts when he mentions it to Art. That he’s kinda liking boys. That he’s sorta into their teammate Tony. He’s not great at tennis but he’s pretty. They’d been flirting with each other, teasing each other a little bit. “I kissed him once,” Patrick admits.

“Huh…that’s cool,” Art shrugs. He plays it nonchalant but it’s clear he never knew anything about it.  

“I think I might try it out this weekend.” 

”Try it out?”

”Yeah, I might hook up with him. I bought this lubricant that heats up when you put it on. It’s kinda hot.”  

“Oh,” Art says, distracted. He’s endlessly distracted by homework and tennis and whatever else he’s got going on. 

Patrick doesn’t really think about it again till that night. Art comes to him sleepy, in his boxers and a little white t-shirt rubbing his eyes, shirt riding up while he scratches his head.

”I can’t see the tv that well from my side,” he says, climbing into Patrick’s twin. They’re not even watching anything that interesting but Art settles in next to him. Lays down in front of Patrick, golden curls still damp from the shower smelling sweet  like the herbal essences conditioner he stole from his ex. Patrick swallows it down but he’s stiff right away. They used to share the bed all the time when they were kids, but they’re much bigger now. And normally they rarely sleep together unless the bed is at least full sized. 

Patrick kinda likes boys now. But he’s liked Art for longer than that. He’s gorgeous… and he looks like…well, art. Beautiful. He has the kinda body all the ancient horny artists his classics professor loves, would carve out of marble from memory Patrick knows it. Not that he’d ever admit it to him.

As gorgeous as he is, as badly as Patrick wants to just… cross the line. He doesn’t have a bunch of friends and he gets too much out of Art to risk fucking this up but… Jesus, his skin is so soft.

Art dozes off in the middle of an episode of Psych that he’d been so desperate to watch. They’re too close. There’s too much of him all over Patrick, carelessly spread out and snuggled up. Patrick is so hard he stays up late, anxious Art will feel it at some point in his sleep. 

What actually happens is so much worse. He wakes up too early and Art is still asleep, pressing up against him. All wiggly. His ass rubbing, no grinding up against Patrick’s dick. Patrick has to hold his breath, has to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from grabbing his waist and pushing back. Pulling Arts thin boxers down, wetting his dick and slipping inside. Art stills eventually and Patrick does gymnastics to get out of the bed so he can go fucking jerk off in peace.

Art is the prettiest sleeper because of course he is. Patrick snores and drools, wakes up with his eyes all coated in sleepy stuff. Art sleeps like he’s on display. Golden curls fanned out as he grips his pillow, his perfect jawline settled and relaxed, the lean muscle of his biceps on display beneath his shirt sleeves, t-shirt riding up revealing his solid hip bones, one leg bent, his bare knee jutting out from beneath the blanket. He sleeps peacefully, cheeks hollow, lips pouted. Even in his sleep he has to tempt Patrick mercilessly. It’s his job. 

Patrick hurries to the bathroom and shuts the door. Leaning against it as he shoves his hand down his sweat pants and jerks himself furiously. Every detail of Art spread out in his bed already committed to memory. 

He thinks he’s done. But it happens again the next night. Art pads over to his bed and gets in. “No i want the outside,” Patrick says thinking it’ll make a difference if he can press his ass up against art as they watch tv rather than the other way around. Instead he wakes up with Arts leg and arm draped over his waist.  Art is half hard, breathing light and hot against Patrick’s ear as he sleeps and Patrick’s own dick is swollen and very obviously hard, pressing along Arts thigh.

It’s harder to unwrap himself. It’s harder still, not to grab at Arts dick and start jerking him in his sleep. 

He sits on the toilet lid jerking off. Wondering what he did in a past life to have to put up with this level of temptation.

Patrick flirts with Tony during practice but it’s not quite the same as it was before. For starters Art is definitely hanging around them more. it’s not like Art tries to stop it. But if Patrick didn’t know any better he’d think Art was acting a little flirty with Tony too. Laughing at Tony’s jokes or asking him for advice on a new diet regiment when he could care less about the guy before.

And again Art needs to sleep in Patrick’s bed because suddenly television is oh so important to him. Patrick wakes up again the next morning with Art squirming all over him. And he knows it’s bad. Knows it’s fucking wrong. But honestly he’s not really doing much more than using the movement. 

Yeah he’s rubbing himself off on his sleeping best friend. Yes he’s grabbing his hips, rocking his erection along the perfect swell of Arts bottom but they’re both fully clothed. Sure the fabric is paper thin. Sure he comes so hard through his boxers that a bit of the wet seeps onto Arts clothes. Sure he sneaks out of bed and hurries to the shower just as Art starts to stretch and wake up properly. But it’s not like he’s doing anything more than what could have technically happened unconsciously between them both if he was still asleep.

The following night he’s hard before Art gets into his bed. He can barely wait till morning. By then, he's pushing back as Art wiggles. Biting down on his groans. Art is reacting too in his sleep. His cock getting hard. Patrick reaches around and rubs him through his boxers. He makes little noises, wiggles his hips even more and Patrick just comes faster. Rubbing Art till he feels the wet spot spreading along his heated palm.

Art rolls over with a soft sigh and settles back into sleep. 

He’s all flushed when he wakes up later thinking maybe he had a wet dream. Patrick reassures him. “Dude it happens to everyone. Sometimes for no reason.” He knows it’s horrible and so wrong but it just feels so fucking good.

It’s Friday and Patrick’s made plans to hook up with Tony tomorrow night. He’s gonna sleep over in Tony’s dorm room while his roommate’s out of town. Figure out what he likes. He hasn’t shared anything else about it with Art since that night last weekend and Art hasn’t really brought it up. 

It’s a hot night, unseasonably warm for spring and the school isn’t about to turn on the air yet so they’ve got the windows open. It’s too hot to be all up under each other but Art comes over anyway. Half naked. Only in his boxers. He climbs in all sinewy and long. Just a living breathing work of… yeah. 

Patrick could tell him no. Could tell him to stop doing this. Hell, he could even suggest they push the beds together for more space but he’s sick. Wants to use Arts pretty sleeping body for his cock in the morning. 

And when morning comes it’s predictable. Art rubbing up against him. Patrick does the careful balancing act of pushing back without waking him. Grinding up against him. And then something happens that he doesn’t expect.

“Oh fuck, pat?”  it’s arts groggy voice. He’s awake, still letting his hips move. 

Patrick stills, mildly panicked.

“Yeah?” He whispers pretending to just wake up too.

“Your… i feel your…cock. It’s so…”

“I know dude I’m sorry i—“

Art starts pushing back harder against it. “Mmm it feels kinda good.” He sighs. 

“Uh—uh yeah?” Patrick stammers getting a little tongue tied. His whole body thrumming all of a sudden.

“Mmhm,” Art whines, moving faster. “M-maybe I’m into guys too?”

“Shit,” Patrick breathes. He’s on a knife’s edge right and Arts is just pushing it back on him eagerly. Patrick can see he’s got his hand down his boxers. Jerking himself off. Patrick grabs his hips, his waist to provide more friction. It feels so good not to hold back, not to be gentle and they’re rocking hard, the mattress squeaking while they’re grinding into each other. Tension rising to euphoric levels and then, almost too fast, Art is panting, moaning, jerking, coming in his boxers. It’s so fucking hot. That’s all it takes for Patrick to blow it, all pressed up against Arts ass. 

“Oh fuck yes,” Patrick breathes as he comes down. 

“Mm,” Art rolls over. “What if i like boys too?” He asks softly.

“Uh shit… then uh… we should explore that.”

“Me and you?”

“Yeah…if…if you want.”

“But what about Tony?” Art asks. He almost nails the innocent tone but he’s just a little too earnest and that rings… false. 

Patrick smiles as it dawns on him. “God you’re such a fucking snake,” he laughs.

“What do you mean?” Art says, grinning. 

“Oh fuck off. Getting in my bed every night you never wanted me to sleep with him.”

“I dunno what you mean, I just wanted to see the tv.”

“Mmhm.”

“And maybe I remembered you’d always get hard when you fall asleep. It used to wake me up in the middle of the night… like you did when you were rubbing it all over me in my sleep this week you pervert.”

“Yeah that getting hard thing happens with you… when you’re in my bed. And if I’m a pervert what’s that make you? Grinding all over me every morning and giving me a complex you little freak.” Patrick says, shoving him playfully. 

Art laughs.  “It makes me more useful than Tony… at least for your little experiment. Fuck him. Or better yet, don’t.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Patrick smirks and shakes his head before rubbing Arts bare thigh. “god you’re such a manipulative little shit, aren’t you?”

“But you like me.” Art points out.

“Yeah I like you. Maybe me and you can figure out liking boys together.”

[violetszn]

“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?” &“Sometimes i feel like i wanna make out with you is that a friend thing to do?” + ellie please !!

your phone buzzes against your nightstand, the screen lighting up with ellie’s name. it’s past midnight, and you’ve been lying in bed for at least an hour, trying and failing to fall asleep. the sight of her name on your screen sends a familiar warmth through you, chasing away the quiet frustration of another restless night.

you answer without hesitation.

“el?” your voice is thick with drowsiness, but there’s a softness to the way you say her name.

there’s a pause on the other end, the faint sound of rustling sheets and a deep sigh before she speaks.

“yeah, hey… how come i always end up calling you when i can’t fall asleep?” her voice is low, slightly rough, like she’s been tossing and turning for hours.

you shift onto your side, tucking the phone closer to your ear. “because i always answer?”

ellie lets out a quiet huff of laughter. “yeah. guess so. were… you asleep?”

“no, i couldn’t sleep either, honestly.”

a comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that doesn’t feel heavy or awkward. just familiar. you hear her exhale, the soft creak of her bed as she moves.

“what’s keeping you up?” you ask.

she hesitates. “dunno. just… my brain’s being an asshole, i guess. feels like all these thoughts just won’t chill out.” another pause. “i just… figured hearing your voice might help.”

something in your chest tightens—not in a bad way, just in that way it always does when ellie says something unexpectedly soft.

“i’m glad you called,” you admit. “you know i don’t mind.”

“i know,” she says, quieter this time. “that’s kinda the problem.”

your brows furrow. “what do you mean?”

ellie sighs again, and for a second, you think she’s going to brush it off. then, finally, she says, “i just… i don’t know. i keep telling myself i’m not gonna do it, and then i do. i call you. every time. and you always pick up, and it always makes me feel better, and i—” she stops herself. “i just don’t know if that’s fair.”

you bite your lip, considering her words. “ellie?”

“yeah?”

“can i come over?”

she doesn’t answer right away, but you can practically hear the way she exhales, like she’s been holding her breath without realizing.

“yeah,” she says, voice softer this time. “yeah, i’d really like that.”

fifteen minutes later, you’re standing outside her door, dressed in sweats and one of her hoodies that she definitely left at your place on purpose. you knock lightly, and it barely takes a second before ellie swings the door open.

she looks… tired to say the least. her hair’s a mess, her green eyes slightly hazy from the sleep that refuses to take hold, but there’s something else in them, too. something warm when she looks at you.

she steps aside to let you in, and you follow her to her room, where she flops onto her bed with a deep sigh. when she rolls onto her side and reaches out for you, you laugh.

“you’re ridiculous,” you mumble, but you climb in beside her anyway. who were you to resist snuggling up beside her?

ellie hums in response, shifting closer until her forehead brushes your shoulder. you stay like that for a while, just lying there, the quiet hum of the night settling around you. eventually, her fingers find the hem of your hoodie, playing with it absentmindedly.

“isn’t this mine…?”

“yeah.” a laugh falls past your lips. “you don’t mind, right?”

“not even a little,” she smiles.

you hum, snuggling further into her bed. your eyes flutter shut as you lean into her presence.

“hey,” she murmurs.

“hm?” you open your eyes, picking up on the odd look on her face.

“i was… thinking about something,” she says, voice hesitant.

“yeah? should i be scared?”

ellie scoffs, but there’s no real bite to it. “shut up.” she playfully shoves you.

you grin. “what were you thinking about? everything okay?”

she shifts slightly, like she’s debating whether to say it. and then, finally—

“sometimes… i feel like i wanna make out with you,” she says, quiet but sure. “is that a friend thing to do?”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what you’d expected her to say but it most definitely wasn’t that.

ellie’s smiling softly, but there’s something underneath it. something cautious, like she’s giving you an out if you want it.

you don’t.

your fingers brush her hair from her face then drop down to the sleeve of her shirt, playing with it absentmindedly. “i don’t think so.”

ellie nods, like she expected that answer. but when you rest your hand on her cheek, she stills.

“good thing i don’t really wanna be just friends, huh?” you add softly.

for a moment, neither of you move. you can hear the sound of ellie’s breathing, slightly uneven, as she watches you. then, slowly, like she’s giving you a chance to pull away, she leans in.

and then her lips are on yours, warm and insistent, like she’s been waiting forever. maybe she has. maybe you have too.

either way, sleep can definitely wait.

860 words.

[gliphyartfan]

Diversity among hylians seems to be very low, so I ask you to please headcanons of the chain with a human reader who has vitiligo and maybee heterochromia. Please, please, that's all I need!

Ah, that’s true! Hylians, for all their magic and divine connections, lack a lot of the diversity that humans have. (Even if they have the funkiest hairstyles at times)

I guess at first, they don’t get it.

They’ve certainly never seen anything like it before.

The patches of lighter skin standing out against their natural tone? The two different colored eyes? It’s so far outside of normal Hylian traits that they’re just staring the first time they meet Reader.

Not in a bad way! They’re just so confused but the differences. (They adjust as they always do.)

Wind is the first to ask. (Zero filter after all)

Blunt as always he goes “Did you get cursed?”

(Cue Warriors smacking him upside the head.)

And Reader would laugh, though and reapond. “Nope. It’s just how I was born.”

Sky would be tilting his heads and say “Wait, it’s natural?”

Hyrule is quietly intrigued. (Half fae boy is kinda obsessed.)

He’d be like “So you were just… blessed with two different eye colors? And patterns on your skin?”

And Reader would be like “Blessed?” They’d snort. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

But Hyrule would.

(He probably ends up fully convinced that Readwr is some sort of celestial being that’s just pretending to be human.)

Twilight (when everyone is way more comfortable with each other) actually reaches out to touch your skin. (With permission, of course.)

The difference in texture is interesting to him. It’s not really different from the rest of Reader’s skin, but the contrast is so mesmerizing.

“Does it… change?”

“Sometimes,” They’d shrug. “Spreads a little, but nothing crazy.”

Twilight wouod be so fascinated. His own markings only appeared when he used the Shadow Crystal, so seeing someone with permanent ones they were born with is something else.

Sky thinks they’re literally kissed by the heavens.

No, really.

He genuinely believes that their skin is like clouds drifting across the sky.

He gets so poetic about it, too. “It’s like the sky at dawn… patches of light breaking through the darkness.”

Legend: “You’re making it weird.”

Sky: “I’m appreciating the beauty of nature, shut up.” (Which I personally wouod find funny)

As for heterochromia I thiiiink, Warriors and Legend notice it first.

Warriors, because he’s trained to pick up details.

Legend, because he’s just perceptive as hell. (Not that the others arent but I think everyone is heavily distracted by the vitiligo.)

Legend would go “Wait, were your eyes always different colors?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

Cue them both narrowing their eyes like they’re trying to figure out if Reader’s messing with them.

Wind and Wild immediately love it.

“Whoa! That’s so cool!”

“Can you see differently out of each eye?”

“Do things look different?”

(Reader has to physically stop them from shining a lantern in your face to ‘check.’)

Time kinda thinks it’s an omen.

…Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in the way that his gut tells him you’re important.

Like… by that point Reader was already significant to them, but this just adds to it.

He’s seen plenty of strange things in his time, but a mortal with two different eyes? That’s has to mean something ya know?

Four is intrigued from a more analytical standpoint.

Four: “So, you were born with this?”

Reader: “Yep.”

Four: “It doesn’t affect your vision?”

Reader: “Nope.”

Four: “Fascinating.”

(He will absolutely study their eyes in different lighting, making notes to compare them.)

All in all, they adore it. (And it is inevitable that creeps and weirdos will try to nab such a unique beauty when they go era hopping so it ends up with them being a biiit over protective with Reader. But hey! Stories to tell friends over drinks eh?)

[delugyu]

not that same og anon but *i* am ovulating right now and i think if pt3 never sees the light of day i *will* cry

here u go bae!! each of these parts are just gonna get longer and longer until it’s ridiculous to call it a drabble 😭

part one / part two / part three

(wc: 4.7k / warnings: searing hot jealousy, possessiveness, corruption kink, oral (f rec.), lots of heavy petting, marking, grinding, overstimulation, cumming in pants yayyy)

when beomgyu sees taehyun’s caller id on his phone, he almost doesn’t pick up. he knows that would be awful, though, and that maybe he shouldn’t ruin one of his closest friendships over you, so he puts his pride aside and accepts the call. it doesn’t make it any easier to listen to taehyun’s voice, though.

he’s zoning out, just letting taehyun ramble without really processing his words, until he hears him say your name. his full attention snaps to taehyun’s words, suddenly completely interested in whatever he has to say.

it sounds a lot like taehyun’s bragging. he’s going on and on about this light festival he took you to last night, how much you loved it, how you just adored your time there. 

beomgyu might be a maniac. he’s scared of how bad his urge is to fight taehyun, all because he got a little too hung up on you. taehyun probably has no clue you were with beomgyu just a few days ago, that you had his dick in your mouth, that you swallowed his cum and behaved so well for him. he wonders if that would piss taehyun off. he wants to do a hell of a lot more that would piss him off, too.

it’s when taehyun tells him that he kissed you for the first time yesterday that beomgyu decides he’s had enough. he really doesn’t need or want to listen to this shit. there’s an ugly and confusing feeling sprouting in his chest that he doesn’t care to foster any longer, so beomgyu makes up some excuse and tells taehyun he has to go.

he hangs up and puts his phone down on the table with more force than necessary, holding his head in his hands. he lets out a heavy sigh as he tries to summon tranquility back to him, willing away the bitter jealousy that made itself way too comfortable inside of him.

beomgyu’s not even a jealous person. he doesn’t even care. it’s your life—if you want to go make heart eyes at taehyun all day, then you can go on your merry way and do just that. it doesn’t concern him at all, seriously.

he thinks about taehyun stealing your lips for a quick kiss, and he tells himself that it only makes him feel sick because taehyun’s his friend, and thinking about your friend kissing anyone is gross. but he didn’t care when it was taehyun kissing mina. he didn’t care when it was yujin, or chaewon, or minji. he only cares cause it’s you.

you haven’t even talked to beomgyu since you left him that day. he’s been stuck replaying memories of his tongue inside your mouth, your hands on his body, your legs shaking with pleasure, your little gasps and whimpers as you came with your fingers over your cunt. he’s been dying here, and you haven’t reached out once.

it’s not like you guys talked that much before this, but he figured that maybe you’d care a little more now. he wants you to ask him to spend time with you, wants to hear your voice and touch your skin. he wants you to want him half as bad as he wants you. if he’s being really honest, he wants you to need him more than he needs you.

he pictures you in tears, clawing at your clothes, shoving your hand between your thighs as his name falls from your lips. you’d be a desperate little thing, waiting impatiently for beomgyu to come save you with his gentle touch on your bare skin. only he’d be able to give you what you need. no other man—and certainly not taehyun—would be able to satisfy you enough.

you prove yourself yet again to be the thief of his sanity, because he finds himself staring at your contact profile, thinking of what to say if he calls you. do you want to come over? ugh, no, that’s so sleazy. what are you doing? let’s hang out right now. that’s one way to make himself sound desperate. he doesn’t want to stoop quite that low.

his fantasies of you are just going to get worse and torment him more if he doesn’t grow a pair and call you. maybe he could do something productive with all this pent up energy instead. go to the gym, hang with some friends, get some work done…

his leg bounces rapidly as his phone rings, waiting for you to pick up. to hell with productivity, you’re more important.

“hello?” the second your voice reaches beomgyu’s ears, his cock throbs in his pants. you’ve got him conditioned like some animal. he doesn’t have it in him to feel humiliated by that, but he knows he should be.

when your name spills from beomgyu’s lips, it sounds absurdly close to something like a moan. he holds his head in his hands, exhausted and frustrated, unable to take this anymore. it’s disgusting how much of beomgyu’s energy is being used toward not fisting his cock right now. just knowing you're on the other end is enough to get him going. fuck, he hopes you’re all hot and bothered too.

“are you doing anything right now?” beomgyu asks. he knows you’re smart enough to understand why he’s asking. he shouldn’t have to elaborate.

“not really,” you answer. he hears you shuffling around—you must be getting ready to head out. he likes to think that you’re just as excited and ready to jump at the opportunity to be with him as he is with you. “why?” you ask.

are you serious? he’s not going to spell it out for you. “you know why,” he says. he can’t sit still now, itching to get his hands on you. he paces around his apartment and convinces himself you’ll be here soon.

“i can’t,” you say, and it makes beomgyu freeze. “i’m going to see taehyun tonight.”

beomgyu’s quiet as he processes your words. this is probably some test from the universe to see how good of a person he is. he should laugh it off and tell you to go have fun, but seriously? you fucking saw taehyun yesterday! it’s been days since beomgyu last saw you! so no, beomgyu’s not going to be a good person. the universe can condemn him to however many eternities in hell it pleases. he’ll take his twenty minutes with you.

“don’t,” he urges. “don’t see him. come here tonight instead.” you wouldn’t have half as much fun with taehyun as you would with him, beomgyu knows it. he’s got so much to show you. frankly, at this point it’s going to ruin his pride if you choose taehyun again.

“i just texted him though.”

“i don’t care. please come here.” he’s reduced to having to beg for you again.

you sigh. you must be contemplating it. beomgyu worries for a second that he’s going to have a heart attack if you say no.

“alright. this is the only time i’m cancelling plans for you, though.” beomgyu feels his soul return to his body. god, he needs you to hurry up and get here.

the minutes spent waiting for you might as well have been hours. his dick is fully hard just from the anticipation of getting you to himself again, of being able to touch you in ways no one else has. the moment he hears you open the door to his place, he’s bolting to you and getting his fix. you barely even get to shut the door behind you before he’s on you like some fiend. he’s got no time to waste.

you look surprised when he captures your face in his hands, kissing you so hard that your body’s forced back against the door. he sucks at your lips like it will be enough to erase taehyun’s traces from them, to replace any memory of what his lips felt like on yours. you moan into beomgyu’s mouth, and it only makes his wanting worse.

“fuck,” he growls out, pulling away only long enough to talk. he kisses you again quickly. “i need you right now. i need you all the time.” he dives right back in, coaxing your lips open and forcing his tongue inside. he wants to burn his name inside your mouth and keep anyone else from kissing you again.

he’s not in control of himself, letting his instincts take over and throwing rationale to the wind. he leaves one hand on your jaw to keep your mouth open and pliant while the other travels down to squeeze your hip and run wildly across your thigh. you’re wearing another one of those stupidly short skirts, giving him the easiest access to your core. it’s like you wanted this just as badly as him. the thought makes his lips tilt up in amusement.

you jump when beomgyu’s hand cups your core over your panties, pressing his fingertips against you needily. “gyu..!” you sound scandalized, like he’s taking things further than you expected, like you didn’t know he’s been dying to feel your cunt in his hands. you must be lying to yourself if you really think that. beomgyu’s been making his intentions more than clear.

you bring your hand to his wrist, holding it but not pulling it away. beomgyu takes that as a sign to keep going, continuing to rub against your clothed folds. he brings his mouth to your jaw, sucking the skin and trailing his lips down to your neck. he’s been waiting for so long to feel your pussy, even just touching you through your panties is getting him lightheaded.

you’d think he’s a sick freak if you knew how much he thought about you. you’d run away if you found out what kinds of things he fantasized about when he can’t fall asleep at night. he’d try everything, play around with your body as he pleases, work you past your breaking point, leave you ruined for anyone else forever—anything he could possibly do, he wants to.

his tongue laves over your skin as he pants into your neck. he has to keep himself from rutting against your thigh, getting too heady at the feeling of finally touching you. he’s been so patient. he’ll show you everything, you’ll never want to leave his side again. he’ll turn you into something more desperate than himself, make sure you’re the one left haunted and longing. the idea of it all makes him whimper, dick aching in his pants.

he wants to see your knees buckle, wants to watch your eyes get glossy and wet. he wants you trembling and begging for mercy, wants to give you more and more because he knows that you’ll be good and take it. he’s sick, he can’t help it, you did this to him.

he feels your panties dampen up, and some evil sense of satisfaction hits him knowing that he did this to you. you cancelled your plans with taehyun to get your virgin pussy played with by him. something like a power rush gets to him, and it makes him want to wreck you all the more.

“how is it, baby?” he asks, smiling meanly at you because he knows you can’t give a proper response. he presses down on your clit, watching your mouth drop open as he swipes it fervently, needing to get you dripping and ready. he steals your lips for another kiss, letting you pant into his mouth as he takes everything he wants from you.

he holds your hip still when your legs start getting unsteady. he thinks it’s so cute how you’re already wobbling—you really are that inexperienced. it’s so entertaining to watch you fall apart over something so simple. he wishes taehyun could see you now, getting beomgyu’s hand all wet and giving him all your little gasps and mewls.

he wants to rip his hand away and watch you cry, but he thinks that might be too mean. he’s got something better to show you, though. he can’t rip his hands or lips off of you as he walks you into his room, coaxing you down against his bed until he’s hovering over you.

he’s reminded of the last time you two were in this position, when you left him to go straight to taehyun. did he know that you were just with beomgyu that night? that your hand was wrapped around his dick, that you were so eager to milk him dry? he’ll make sure you don’t head straight to taehyun again.

he holds your legs open, staring at your center with a wicked grin. your skirt is useless—it covers nothing when you’re spread out like this, soaked panties on full display. he wants those as a keepsake. he might be able to pocket them if he’s discrete and you’re delirious enough.

his stomach is in knots, he almost can’t believe this. he feels the way your legs keep shaking in his hands, and he knows you must be feeling so needy. you don’t even know what to do with yourself. your hips roll up, trying to seek pleasure that isn’t there, and it almost makes him want to keep you like this until you go crazy. it wouldn’t take long, you’re already whimpering and whining like you can’t handle a minute without his touch.

“let me go down on you,” beomgyu says, dropping his head between your thighs. he kisses up your leg until he gets to your core, ghosting his lips over your heat and blinking up at you. you’re holding yourself up on your elbows so you can stare at him, and he smiles up at you reassuringly when he sees how unsure you look.

he eases his hands up and down your thighs, calming your nerves. he has to remember that this is all so new to you. as much as he wants to go wild and do everything the way he wants, he needs to make sure you’re comfortable. he wants you to be all in on this too.

“how does it feel?” you ask, something in your voice sounding a little shaky. “i mean, i just heard from my friends that it’s not even… that good. for a girl, anyway.”

beomgyu laughs at your nervous rambling. he gives a gentle kiss to your thigh again and rubs his thumbs soothingly across your skin. “it will feel good,” he says.

you look away meekly. it’s sweet how shy you get, but beomgyu is very needy and wants your attention back on him. he kisses your clothed cunt just barely, so lightly that he’s not even sure you feel it. your eyes are back on him, though, so he supposes it worked. he runs his finger gently over your folds, waiting for you to tell him to go further.

“wouldn’t it be wrong?” you ask. your body jolts a bit when he applies some pressure to your clit.

“why?” beomgyu doesn’t see why you think it’s fine to give him head, but he can’t do the same for you.

“cause of taehyun,” you answer, voice dying out at the end. any sort of amusement leaves beomgyu in a heartbeat.

“he’d probably care a hell of a lot more if he found out about you sucking my dick and jerking me off.” his fingers get a little angrier against your cunt, dipping down to push at your entrance through your panties. your eyes widen, thighs clamping shut. all it does is trap his hand right where it is, though. 

“t-that was cause i was learning!” you defend. beomgyu draws his hand back and studies your face. he’s trying to see if you really don’t want this or if you’re just being difficult.

“so why’d you come over then?” he asks.

that seems to shut you up. you stare at him all guilty, no answer even attempting to leave your lips.

“that’s what i thought,” beomgyu continues, hand creeping back up your thigh. “will you let me eat you out now?”

your thighs stay pressed together, and beomgyu thinks it’s so cute. you must be embarrassed now. he feels a little bad for you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, a gentle hand on your shoulder guiding you to lay flat against the mattress. “i’m sorry, that was mean.” he pecks your cheek in apology, then looks back at you with a smile. he peppers a few more kisses across your face for good measure.

beomgyu grins when you open your legs back up a little, making room for him. he steals a quick kiss from you before descending down your body, stopping every now and then to nibble at your collarbone, push up your shirt and lick at your waist, suck a mark into your thigh.

his hands sneak under your skirt to find the hem of your panties, tugging at them slightly. “can i take this off?” he asks, watching you blink sweetly at him. you nod eagerly, and it makes his heart skip a beat for some reason.

he peels your panties off slowly, but it feels more like he’s teasing himself than he is you. his head is spinning as soon as he sees your cunt, hands forcing your legs further apart so he can get a better view. he’s salivating like a dog, abandoning all his patience and smothering his face between your legs without a care in the world.

he’s already thrusting against the mattress, he can’t help himself, he doesn’t care how pathetic it is. his tongue is desperate as it works over you, slobbering over your cunt as you writhe and squeal beneath him. he keeps a strong grip on your thighs, not letting you dare try to close them even a little. you’re gasping and lacing your fingers in his hair, motivating him with every little tug you deliver.

“you’re going—nngh, gyu! fuck! going really fast..!” you cry out. he feels how much you’re shaking already, even your hand is unsteady against his scalp. it just turns him on so much fucking more, though. he needs to see you ruined, see how far he can push you.

his tongue pushes into your tight little hole, and his eyes almost roll back from how much resistance he’s met with. fuck, you really are inexperienced. he can’t imagine how he’ll even fit his fingers in there, let alone his dick.

his nose is right against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you. you’re moaning out much whinier than he’s heard from you before, and it does crazy things to him. he wants to fuck you so bad. he’d ram his dick into you, relentless and mean, and you’d take it so well because you’re so wet and so good to him.

he has to make you cum, he needs to feel you fall apart over his tongue. shit—you’ve never even had a guy make you cum before, he’s gonna be the first. the thought fuels him further, doubling his efforts, fingers digging into your skin to keep you still. he feels your walls start clenching down on his tongue, and he wonders how much more it will take before you’re spasming wildly around him.

he pushes his face further against you, desperate to get as close as he possibly can, reach as far into your cunt as his tongue will allow. he needs this more than he needs air, aching to finally taste your orgasm after days of longing for it.

“oh my god, gyu—gyu! i’m..!” you can’t even form coherent sentences, and your words are barely decipherable with how high pitched and whiny they are. you're putting up a hell of a fight against his hold on your thighs, but he doesn’t give. he moans into your pussy once he feels your cunt clamp down on his tongue like a vice, trapping him in so all he can do is curl his tongue up inside you. you’re squirming beneath him, sounding so beautiful and pathetic that he almost cums in his pants.

he only stops once you’re pulling hard at his hair, forcing his head off of you before he can overstimulate you any more. he pulls away panting, catching his breath and licking his lips, staring at your cunt like he’s entranced. the way your arousal still leaks from your entrance is teasing him, making his brain get all foggy.

he has to pull himself away before he gets too ahead of himself and dives into you again. he hovers over your, smiling at how fucked out you look. pride fills his chest knowing that he did this to you. your hand falls onto his shoulder, trailing up his neck and landing on his jaw, cupping his face gently. he decides to kiss you then, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you must have used up a lot of energy when you came, cause your lips move against his much slower than before.

beomgyu’s still just as needy, though, dick throbbing almost painfully in his pants as he grinds against your thigh. he wishes he had some shame, but that left him the moment you let him take off your panties. he pulls away from your mouth to suck your neck instead, unable to control himself, barely able to cling onto reality right now at all.

“not too hard, don’t mark me there,” you say, trying to pull his face away. he doesn’t even really register your words, too far off in his own world in which you’re some pretty little virgin lying on his bed waiting for him to fuck you.

he just wants to get you all cute and bruised, purple hues all over your body from his mouth or his fingers gripping you tight. you’d never be able to go back to taehyun like that. you’d have to stay right here with beomgyu, be his pretty little toy to use whenever he wants to get you wet and pliant.

you successfully tug him off of you when you pull his hair particularly hard. he pouts at you, finally coming back to reality as he watches your eyes dart across his face. he wonders what you must be searching for.

“how was it?” he asks.

“really good,” you say with an innocent smile that doesn’t match the situation.

“told you,” he laughs, tugging you up and moving you around until you’re sitting in his lap, your back to his chest.

“what are you doing?” you look over your shoulder, eyes big and shiny, and it’s almost like you’re tempting him to kiss you again. he rolls his hips up and grinds against your ass, pulling a gasp from you.

“can’t i get off too?” he asks with a grin, guiding your head back to lean against his shoulder, wanting you to get comfortable. his hands smooth up your thighs and stop at your hips, holding you tight there to keep you in place while he thrusts against you.

he’s obsessed with this, could stay in this moment forever with you. some domestic feeling comes over him, something that urges him to keep you happy, keep you feeling like this all the time. his hands get greedy on your thighs, drawing closer and closer to your core, wanting to feel your heat once again.

he brings a gentle hand to your center, spreading your folds and collecting your arousal. you sigh dreamily, tucking your face into his neck. he feels your lashes flutter as your eyes close, and he wants nothing more than to please you again. he brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing soft circles there, carefully watching your face.

you look so peaceful like this. his heart is aching now and he doesn’t know why. you’re painfully beautiful. why can’t this last forever?

he wraps an arm around your waist, pressing you right into him so he can grind against you deliciously. he moans at the feeling, hastening his pace as he chases his high with more determination. his fingers tease your entrance, wondering what you’d do if he just pushed in a little, only up to his first knuckle. he doesn’t, though, because he wants you to trust him.

“a-are you close?” you ask, hand reaching blindly behind you until it tangles in his hair. he pecks your nose, finding you awfully cute like this.

“yeah. are you?” he returns his attention to your clit, rubbing a little more wildly now. you let out a strangled moan as you nod. he watches your stomach clench and your hips roll. he’s so greedy; he wants to pull away just to keep you here a little longer. anything to keep you from leaving.

his hips work harder against you, blinded by the need to make you his and take you from anyone else. you're twitching uncontrollably, and he realizes that you’re cumming again, which satisfies him so much that he crashes right into his own orgasm. his arm fastens around you tighter, pressing himself as close to you as he can while his seed spills out of his cock.

“so good, so good,” he babbles, fingers flying over your clit, not listening to your protests and whines. he can’t let you go. he doesn’t want this to end.

“too much!” you gasp out, body defenseless to his ministrations. he hushes you with a kiss to your forehead.

“don’t leave yet,” he begs. “there’s still more i wanna do.” he’s selfish, he won’t hide it. he’ll wear his desperation on his sleeve now if that’s what will work.

“gyu!” he doesn’t even know if you’re registering his words. you might be too busy running away from the next orgasm he’s trying to bring you to. he feels how you keep getting wetter—you’re soaking his hand, dripping down your thighs.

“could show you so much,” he rambles, letting his mouth run wild. “i have some vibes we could use. those feel nice, you’d like those. i could get my fingers in you, stretch you out. whatever you want.”

you’re a mess of moans, and your body’s trembling more than he’s ever felt before. you must be getting close again.

“could teach you how to take dick,” he says into your ear, grinning when he feels you shudder. his fingers continue to rub recklessly at your pussy. he doesn’t care about being sweet or gentle or slow—he wants you to be blinded by your need for him, to ache for him so bad you’d shed tears.

“ah, fuck—i’m cumming!” you moan, body going limp as you finally succumb to the feeling. beomgyu feels so proud.

“good job, fuck, just like that. what a good pussy, so perfect,” he praises, words falling past his lips without a thought in the world. he wonders if you’ll be worn down enough to spend the night with him. that’s much more than he should be asking for, but he wants it just as badly as anything else he wants from you.

he finally lets up once you come down, smoothing your skirt back into place. you look so tired as your chest heaves, getting your breathing back to normal. he thinks you’re pretty like this, too.

“do you wanna sleep here?” beomgyu offers, testing his luck. he’s summoning any spirit that wants to be on his side today, chanting prayers in his head that you’ll give in without him having to beg.

you blink up at him slowly. god, you’re already falling asleep. he’s not letting you walk back home like this.

“i shouldn’t…” you say, but you’re already lying back against his mattress. he grins at you and pulls a blanket over your body.

“yeah, you shouldn’t,” he teases. your eyes flutter shut, and he almost wants to take a picture of this. “i’ll get you some water,” he says quietly, walking out of the room to do just that.

he comes back to your sleeping figure, slow breaths filling the room as he places your cup on his nightstand. he might have to buy some lottery tickets tomorrow, he’s feeling insanely lucky.

he changes out of his soiled boxers and sweatpants, quickly throwing on new ones so he can hurry up and lay with you. before he can get in bed beside you, he spots your panties on the floor. he looks back at you, making sure you’re asleep before bending down and swiping them up. he wonders if you’ll believe him tomorrow morning when he says you must’ve lost them.

this is unedited so plz excuse any errors lmfao

[sirowsky-stories]

Hello! Here I am, yet again posting a themed fic at the wrong time! I'm trying okay, but shit keeps getting in the way...

Description: The day before Valentine's, you and Pero are sent on a mission to repair a broken machine at the sister factory to the one you work at. And of course, the hotel reservation gets screwed up, and obviously you end up having to stay much longer than expected.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x Female Reader (no descriptions of reader beyond being female), both main character's pov, Valentine's Day theme, forced proximity, only one bed, coworkers to friends, friends to dating, vague references to a planned SA but no descriptions whatsoever, protective!Pero.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 11,572 Sirowsky's Masterlist All dividers by the amazing @saradika-graphics

   “Is this a joke?” You’re too stunned to even be upset about it yet, because this is just too fucking rich.

   “I’m afraid not,” your supervisor Gary apologetically shakes his head. “Look, if there was anyone else we could send, we would, but…”

   “But what? There are two thousand people working here, so don’t tell me you don’t have anyone else to send,” you grumble, not really out of anger, that’s not part of your overall makeup, but more out of nervousness.

   “I meant in the sense that you’re probably the only one who can put up with him for that long.”

   “That doesn’t mean it would be easier on me. It just means I can tolerate feeling like shit better than most.”

   “I’m sorry, I know it’s a bad deal for you,” he sighs, and he does look like he feels genuinely bad about it, but he’s also not leaving any options open for you.

   “And you’re still not gonna budge, are you?”

   “We have to send someone…”

   He gives you the details for the hotel and the keys to a company car, and you’re given one hour to go home and pack for at least a two-day stay in the neighbouring town.    The factory where you work is relatively new, only about ten years old, but it’s been performing excellent from the start, which means a sister factory has been in construction for the past two years just a hundred-and-fifty miles to the east.    It was officially launched six months ago, and there have been very few hiccups since.

   But a couple of days ago, a complex overhead crane began to malfunction, and then completely broke down, and that’s the machine which you have quickly become a master at handling, despite only having been working here for a little over a year. And you’re happy to go and help the new factory back on its feet, that’s no problem at all, you’re only excited about the fact that the company is doing so well, since it means you’ll get to keep your job.    Your issue with all this is that the only person who really knows how to mechanically repair this particular machine, is Pero Tovar.

   He’s been working here since the mother factory was first built, and he was the one who hatched the idea to build the crane, and then both designed and built the damned thing, largely on his own.    He’s a genius, for lack of a better word, but he’s also the most unfriendly person you’ve ever met.    And now, you have to not only work with him on repairing the damaged one, but you also have to travel and live with him for as long as that takes.

   Gary told you that he’d made reservations for you at the nearest hotel to the sister factory, but that they only had one room available, since it’ll be over Valentine’s Day, so you’re quite certain that no matter what happens, this is gonna be a horrible week.

   It’s still only 7am when you arrive back at work with your small suitcase, locate the correct company car and throw your luggage in the trunk, but you don’t get in.    You have no intention of angering your travel mate, so you’re not gonna assume anything in terms of whether he wants to drive or not. You lean against the side of the car with your arms crossed and your cap pulled low over your eyebrows, trying not to think about just how much this is gonna suck.

   He arrives just a couple of minutes later, parking his own car and then walking over to you with brisk steps.    You’ve never seen him dawdle, but he never seems rushed either. More like he just has his own pace through life which he keeps to no matter how fast or slow the world around him is moving. Like he’s perpetually unaffected by absolutely everything, which he probably is.

   “You wanna drive, or should I?” you ask before he reaches the car, so you’ll have time to move out of his way if you need to.

   But he doesn’t answer. He just walks up to the boot and throws his bag into it, shuts it, then heads for the passenger side.    A bit surprised, you take the driver’s seat, but you’re sure as hell not gonna ask him why he doesn’t wanna drive. It just seems out of character, so far as you know him, because he’s always in control of everything around him.    He’s the one person in the entire factory who has every license required to operate every piece of machinery or vehicle available, and he never seems the least bit unsure of what to do or when.

   Still, he’s not a supervisor. He has the same rank as you, which seems ridiculous given the disparity of skills between you, but it does mean that technically he can’t order anyone to do anything. And you’ve never heard him try.    People very nervously come to him with their problems or questions and for the most part, he just sighs and takes care of it, usually without a word but with a fair bit of growling. And if it's something simple enough that the person asking should be able to do it themselves, he’ll begrudgingly instruct, or show them, no doubt hoping they’ll never bother him again.

   But for all his expertise, the only times he outright tells people what to do, is when they’re asking for help. Beyond that, even on the occasions when he overhears operators talking about a problem and he knows how to sort it out, he never says a word without being asked.    And you’ve never been able to work out if it’s out of a deep respect for rules and procedure, if he just doesn’t give a shit, or if he secretly enjoys hearing them struggle with stuff that’s simple to him.    He’s about as easy to read as a book with every page blacked out.

   Which is one of the many reasons why you’re glad it isn’t a longer drive, since you wouldn’t dream of trying to start up a conversation with him.    But even without asking, you know he doesn’t want to stop by the hotel and check in before going to the factory, so you head straight there.    They’re expecting you, evident in how the gates swing open before you’ve even come to a full stop in front of them, so you roll your window down and wave to the security camera as you drive through.

   Parking by the large Arrivals entry at the back, where all new materials are brought in, you step out and wait for someone to come and escort you inside. Since you’re not employed at this factory you can’t enter the factory floor without a yellow vest and a supervisor to take you to the area that you’ll be working in.    Safety procedures are so precise that not even Tovar, who’s done this several times before, is allowed to step foot inside without an escort.

   “Good morning,” a cheerful older woman greets you after just a minute. “I’m Hannah, supervisor of the assembly team.”

   You notice that she only introduces herself to you, so she’s clearly met Tovar before. She’s carrying two vests and hands them to each of you, waiting until you’ve put them on fully before she invites you inside.

   “How big of a failure are we talking about?” you ask as you follow her out of the morning sunlight and into the crisp white, fluorescent lighting, which seems so dark in comparison.

   “Complete. My estimate is that we’re looking at both mechanical and hydraulic malfunction, and there also seems to be a problem with the software.”

   “In that case we have to consider the possibility that the software is the root cause.”

   “I wasn’t aware the crane could sabotage itself,” she ponders, turning a corner around a plastic processing machine before you reach the assembly section, which sits two floors lower down to make room for the giant overhead crane in question.

   You still have to walk halfway through the rest of the factory to reach the control panel, but while you do, you get a good look at two sides of the machine. It has a scientific name, but all workers just call it MAP, short for the three processes it’s capable of performing simultaneously: moulding, assembling, and packaging.

   “If the software fails to accept new commands, especially if they’re related to the assembly arms rather than the material deposits and moulds, then it can end up over-reaching or colliding with itself, which isn’t necessarily visible on the outside, since the turning radius is shorter than it appears to be.” You rattle off the explanation without pause, and she turns her head to the side to look at you while you continue to walk.

   “You mean it can crash into itself without us noticing?”

   “Unfortunately, yes. And when it happens because of a software problem, there’s no guarantee the system will be able to identify the collision and inform you about it, so then the only option it has is to default to its primary security mode and completely shut itself down.    But we won’t know if that’s what’s happened until we’ve had a chance to look at the failure logs.”

   You’re highly aware that Tovar is walking right behind you, and it makes you feel self-conscious in terms of your knowledge about the potential problem.    He knows so much more than you, and yet here you are, talking about the machine that he developed as if you’re every bit as familiar with it as he is. You wouldn’t even blame him if he told you to shut up and leave it to him, because honestly, he’d be well within his rights to.    But he doesn’t say a word.

   Reaching the control panel, you find a whole group of operators waiting with tools of every kind, ready and possibly even eager to pitch in and start fixing stuff, but you merely nod at them and then the two of you set to work. They won’t be able to help with anything until you’ve identified what the actual problem is.    Still with his mouth firmly shut, Tovar begins to dismantle a cover which protects a kind of black box, designed to record and store all malfunction log entries of the operating system for the entire machine, while you start tapping keys to assess how big of a problem you might be dealing with.

   “Shit… The system’s completely crashed,” you relay your findings to your colleague. “We might be looking at a partial or even complete reconstruction.”

   As always, without being asked a direct question, the grumpy Spaniard doesn’t reply, but you’re expecting that. You’re just trying to keep him informed.    But when he manages to gain access to the box, what he finds is even worse than you’d imagined.    The box contains servers, about a hundred of them, and there’s a small screen on one end where he can access specific logs by searching for dates and times. But when he activates the screen, it’s already displaying thousands of entries, all flashing red to indicate problems.

   “We will need to look at the main servers,” he instructs, and the operators immediately spring into action to unscrew the access panel for the primary system.

   It only takes them seconds, and then the core of the computer is revealed.    There are about five hundred servers in there, each with its own little sequence of tiny lights on the front, to indicate where there might be problems. They can shine green, yellow, and red, but also flash in each colour and in a specific order to tell him what’s going on.    But more than half of them have gone dark. Not shining red or flashing, but completely dark. Dead. Which means those servers have suffered such a catastrophic failure that they’ve burned through their circuits.

   “That didn’t happen all at once, did it?” you guess, peering over Tovar’s shoulder after he kneels in front of the open panel to take a closer look.

   “No. This started months ago and slowly built into a cascade. The entire computer must be replaced and the operating system re-uploaded and installed.”

   You can’t quite hold back your heavy sigh of disapproval as you realize just how long this is gonna take.    It was bad enough to be stuck here and living with the unfriendliest person in the world when it was just gonna be for a couple of days, but now it’s looking more like it’s gonna be a couple of weeks.

   “Fuck…”

~~~    You don’t arrive at the hotel until almost 9.30 that evening, after trying to get as much of the dismantling as possible done, so you’ll be able to get started on the rebuild already tomorrow morning. And you’re so tired by the time you get to the room that you don’t even care about having to sleep in the same room as Tovar. All you want is just a shower and then as many hours of rest as you can possibly get.    However, when you walk into the room and see a large double bed, instead of two separate ones, sleep suddenly seems very far away indeed.

   “T-there were supposed to be two beds…” you nervously stutter, while racking your brain to try and remember exactly what Gary had said about the booking.

   Did he say that they only had one room available, with double beds, or with a double bed?    The more you think about it the more convinced you become that it was in fact the latter, and your pulse jumps to what seems like twice its normal pace.    But your colleague doesn’t respond, nor does he look the slightest bit concerned about it.

   “’I’m gonna go talk to the front desk clerk again,” you say while already heading for the door, grabbing a key card on your way out.

   Pero sighs deeply after hearing the door close behind you. Nobody likes him, for good reason, so he isn’t surprised that you don’t want to share a bed with him, but it also offends him somewhat.    It’s not like he’d ever do anything to you. He’s not a kind or sweet person, but he sure as shit isn’t an abuser either. He would never lay hands on a woman without permission, and he’d rather chew off his own arms than hit someone who couldn’t possibly defend themselves against him. There’s no victory to that kind of fight.

   But of course, you can’t know how he thinks since he never shares any of his thoughts with anyone.    Hence the sigh.    The likelihood of another room being available is very low, though. Gary wouldn’t have booked this if there was any better alternative available within the company’s budget, so while he waits for you to return, he takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth.

   You come back just as he leaves the bathroom, which is right next to the front door, so the two of you almost collide in the hallway. And if he isn’t mistaken, he catches a glimpse of you eyeing his naked upper body with what doesn’t appear to be disgust or disinterest. More like the opposite.    It’s only there for a millisecond before you’ve schooled your expression and turned your entire face away, but he could swear there was a sliver of desire within you just then, and he’s quite surprised at how much that pleases him.

   “Uh… wh-.. Hrm…” you try, but whatever you meant to say, it doesn’t seem to find its way out, so you simply pass him in the hall and head for your suitcase which is parked at the foot of the bed.

   Since he’s done with his evening toilet, Pero ends up following you there, rounding the bed behind you and pulling the covers back on the right-hand side of it.    He’s only wearing his boxer briefs and when he sits down, his back is to you, so he can’t see if you steal any more looks at him, but it does secretly bemuse him to imagine that you do.

   “There weren’t any other rooms available,” you finally manage, just after he lays down and pulls the covers over himself. “They apparently have a Valetine’s Day special here every year, offering all kinds of romantic couples spa treatments and even a speed-dating event, all of which seem to be very popular.”

   Your voice is small and nervous, as if you’re worried that he’ll scold you for speaking too loudly in his presence, which seems excessive. He’s never been cruel to you.    At least, not by any of his own definitions of cruelty.    He’s lying on his side with his back to you, so he can’t read your expression, but he wonders if you’re actually scared of him, because that’s what it sounds like.    It’s quiet for a minute then, and all he hears is the zipper on your suitcase being opened and you grabbing some things before heading for the bathroom, so he assumes everything’s okay, and with the day you’ve had, he falls asleep not long after.

   He wakes up to his alarm the following morning at 5:45am, and rolls out of bed on routine, heading for the bathroom. Rounding the foot of the bed, he notices that the covers on your side are already immaculately made up and when he looks up, he finds you sitting at the small table in the corner by the TV, dressed and ready, fiddling with your phone.    Momentarily confused, he glances at his wristwatch, wondering if he set the alarm the wrong time or something. Because why would you get up earlier than you need to when you got in so late last night?

   He would’ve slept another half-hour himself if not for the fact that you need to go to the hotel restaurant for breakfast since you didn’t have time yesterday to buy something you can eat in the room or on the way.    Your head is bowed as you’re looking at the screen, but he can still see how tired you are, so clearly, you didn’t sleep nearly as soundly as he did, which seems to match with your nervousness last night.

   And while he’s doing his morning toilet, he realizes that something about seeing you look so tortured really annoys him. Deep down, he knows why, but he doesn’t allow himself to go there.    Returning to his bag on his side of the bed, he steals glances at you, trying to quell the stronger feelings that your presence keeps stirring up, but he can’t seem to gain control of himself, which leaves him sour and cranky. So, when he finally has cause to speak to you, it comes out with much more of a sting than he’d intended.

   “Let’s get going.”

   It sounds harsh and almost accusatory, which comes as a surprise to Pero himself, because you’ve been ready to go since before he woke up, so he has no right to hurry you on.    Still, you don’t protest or challenge him, even though you absolutely should, and as he leads the way down the corridors to the elevator, he wonders if he truly has left such a horrid impression on you over this past year, that you genuinely do fear him.

   You’re a happy person. He’s not good at interacting with people, but he’s excellent at reading them, and he’s been working closely with you since you first started, so he’s had plenty of opportunities to study you. And what he’s seen is a lot of humour and a generally positive attitude, even when things are tough. You’re the one who keeps everyone’s spirits up in the breakroom, coming up with little games and puzzles to keep your coworkers entertained and let them forget about the problems out on the factory floor.

   But he hasn’t seen that side of you for even one minute since the two of you were sent on this repair mission, and the only reason he can see why that would be, is because you’re on your own with him.    It’s not like the two of you haven’t been on your own in your sector of the factory before, but it’s different when you’re in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people you’ve never met, and can’t even go home to your own bed at the end of the day.

   Pero has never had more than temporary relationships with women, because he does know how unfriendly he is and why he behaves that way, which means that there’s a lot he doesn’t know or understand about the fairer sex. But what he does have extensive experience with, is seeing how the world treats you, and how powerless you often are to change your own circumstances or even keep yourselves safe.

   He’s lost count of how many brawls he’s gotten himself into, and walked away from largely unscathed, simply by intervening whenever he’s witnessed men behaving badly towards women. He doesn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart, he’s not even sure his heart is good at all, but simply because it irks him. And he doesn’t expect or accept any thanks for it because he only does it to keep from losing his fucking mind with the urge to vomit all over those kinds of guys.

   But now that he watches you hurriedly fill a plate from the breakfast buffet, ignoring all the things he knows you normally love to indulge in when you get the chance, like the Nutella croissants and raspberry yoghurt with fresh berries, he realizes that he’s the only one who’s being disrespectful towards you right now.    He should apologize for barking at you, maybe compliment your cute red nail-polish with little white hearts, or perhaps express some concern over how tired and stressed you look.

   Instead, he finishes filling his own plate and takes his seat opposite you, without a word spilling over his lips.

   Work is slow and tedious, each new hard drive being installed takes about twenty minutes because each one has to be independently connected to the core system, in the correct sequence, before you can move on to the next. And on top of that, the hydraulics in all eight of the machine’s mechanical arms needs to be replaced, which is where most of your focus lies, while Tovar primarily works on the computer.

   He’s better at it than you or anyone of the other operators, so it’s only logical, and you’re somewhat relieved to not be around him much today.    You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to lay down next to him last night, so you’d spent the night on the floor instead, thankfully waking up early enough that you’d had time to make your side of the bed before he noticed.    Not that you’re sure why he’d be bothered by that. He doesn’t give a shit about your comfort, so why would he care where you sleep?

   Unfortunately, this means you haven’t gotten much sleep at all since the floor was hard and cold and you kept having to change positions to keep various body parts from going numb.    But working on the mechanical arms means working with the sister factory operators, and they’re proving to be just as good fun as your regular coworkers, so while the day might have started out crabby, by lunchtime you’re feeling pretty good.    Until you hear that Tovar has left the factory over lunch, taking the car into town to eat, without asking if you might wanna tag along.

   You wouldn’t really have expected him to ask, that’s not his style, but he could’ve let you know that he was leaving to give you a chance to go with him and maybe buy some breakfast for tomorrow or just a damned Valentine’s gift for yourself.    Today is the 14th after all, and since it was supposed to be a day off for you, you had a whole day planned back home.

   Nothing fancy, just a nice solo dinner and dessert, a spa bath and some skin pampering, and then just relaxing on the sofa with the book you’re currently reading and some of your favourite music.    It would’ve been a perfect day. But instead, you’re literally covered in engine grease, the kind used for airplanes, no less, and there’s no point in washing more than your hands before digging into your microwave meal which you bought from a vending machine outside the management offices.

   Your colleague returns within the allotted half-hour break, which seems odd considering the time it usually takes to order a meal, receive it, and then eat it, plus the drive back and forth into town. But you’re sure as hell not gonna ask him about it. He’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with you.    So, you get back to work, doing your best to ignore him for the rest of the day.

   However, it being a holiday, albeit a small one, the staff aren’t gonna stick around until 9pm like last night. They start packing it in before 6pm, and since you can’t be there without a chaperone, you’re both forced to leave early as well, which means you now have an entire evening to spend with the one person you’ve ever met who hates spending time with a single living thing.    On fucking Valentine’s Day.

   He drives this time, and you’re so tired and fed up with this whole situation that you never even ask if you can stop by a grocery store on the way. And once back in the hotel room, you’re all but ready to collapse and sleep for the rest of the evening, but then you remember that you’re not in any way interested in sleeping next to your travel companion, which just sours your mood even more.

   “Do you need the bathroom any time soon?” you ask after arriving back in the room, and he just shakes his head, so you grab your toiletry bag and some clean cozy clothes from your suitcase and then lock yourself in there for what’s gonna be a very long shower.

   For a long while, you just sit on the floor underneath the spray, and cry. Maybe because you feel particularly lonely today, or maybe just because you’re so tired, but whatever the reason might be, you don’t care enough to try and work it out.    But after what has to be an hour, possibly even more than that, you start to feel overheated, so you quickly clean your hair and scrub your skin before stepping out and getting started on some moisturization.

   You still don’t wanna go out into the other room, though, so you take your time blow-drying and styling your hair, even though you’re just going to bed. Then you clean and dry all your product bottles before putting them back into your toiletry bag.    And then you can’t find any more excuses to stay in there any longer, so with a deep sigh, you unlock the door and step out into the cool and dry air of the bedroom, heading straight for your suitcase without even looking to see where Tovar is.

   Until something catches your eye.    There’s a glimmer towards the head of your side of the bed, and when you look up, a little gift box is sitting on your pillow.    You turn around once, scanning the room, but he isn’t in there. What is in there, sitting on the small table in the corner, is a classic silver tray with a cover, and a single red rose resting in front of it.

   Confused, you look from the silvery little box with a perfect bow on top, to the silvery tray in the other end of the room, utterly unable to connect the dots and unsure of where to even start with this.    Finally, after at least a minute of perplexed deliberation, you decide to open the gift first.    It’s about the size of the palm of your hand, and it isn’t wrapped, so you can just lift the top half of it off, but once you do, you kinda forget how to be a human being for a split second.

   Because this must be from him. But how the fuck does he know? You’ve never had a genuine conversation with the man, and he’s never once expressed any interest in learning anything personal about you. So, how could he possibly know that you’ve wanted a d’amour gold diamond necklace from Cartier for years, and just never felt like it was an acceptable expense?    It’s not the priciest piece of jewellery, just shy of a thousand bucks, but that’s still way beyond what you feel is acceptable to spend on what’s essentially just an accessory.

   Yet, here it is. The exact piece you’ve been dreaming about one day feeling like you can gift yourself. It makes no sense.    Tearing your gaze off the sparkling jewellery to try and regain some clarity of thought, you then remember the tray, and slowly approach the little table, suddenly extremely curious but also kinda worried about what might be under that cover.

   The rose is also of the expensive type, as big as a coffee cup saucer and blood red, with a sweet and soft aroma. You know the kinds of florists who sell these and it’s about the last place you’d ever expect to see Pero Tovar. The mental image alone is enough to make you snort.    And then you lift the cover and once more lose your marbles, because the tray is absolutely filled with all your favourite treats.

   From strawberries to your favourite sour candies, to caramel brownies, peanut butter cookies, your favourite chocolate, grapes, and two bottles of the best sparkling water you know.    Even if your solo Valentine’s hadn’t been cancelled you never would’ve treated yourself to all this. And once again you’re left wondering how in the hell the unfriendliest man in the world has accomplished this.

   But he’s not here, and his phone is sitting on the bedside table on his side of the bed, so you can’t reach him. Which has to mean he did all this so that you’d have a night to yourself in the middle of all this work, and the thought damned near makes you cry again.    So instead, you take the necklace out of the box and put it on, then you grab the tray, move it onto the bed, turn on the tv and snuggle up while you search for something to watch.

   He comes back around midnight, to give you as much space as he can without making himself miserable with too little sleep before work tomorrow, and he tries to be quiet when he steps out of his shoes and sneaks into the bathroom.    Once he’s used the toilet and brushed his teeth, he stays in the bathroom while he undresses and then quietly makes his way to the bed. But once he sees you, he has to stop for a moment and just look at you.

   The bedside lamps illuminate you where you lay, curled up against the headboard with the covers bunched up as a third pillow for you to hug, still fully dressed and with the tray of sweets in the middle of the bed, most of it already eaten. You’re holding the rose so that the soft petals touch your cheek, and around your neck the thin chain and tiny diamond glimmers.    You’re far away, sleeping soundly with a slight smile in the corner of your mouth, and it makes him feel warm to see it.

   You always smile, even when you have no apparent reason to. It’s how he’s used to seeing you, and it’s an unexpected relief to have that smile back.    It takes him several minutes before he realizes that he’s been staring at you for far too long, and promptly reaches over to lift the tray out of the bed and take one of the spare blankets to cover you with, before he carefully crawls into bed beside you and falls asleep still watching you smile.

~~~    The alarm on his phone is automated, set to 6:15am for the entire week, and it goes off when it’s supposed to.    He turns around and reaches for his phone but then hits snooze instead of turning it off. He’s dead tired and not at all in the mood to get up, so he tries to go back to sleep, hoping the alarm will magically turn back time and give him another two hours.    But then that feeling hits him. That feeling which tells him something’s off and he needs to be alert, so he opens his eyes.

   He’s still lying on his left side, facing your direction, so when he looks up, he meets your eyes staring back at him.    You’ve sat up and you look tired and confused, but also… softer, maybe. Less tense than you have these past two days.

   “When did you get in? I didn’t hear you.” You seem truly surprised to not have noticed him coming back, but then, you have no idea how stealthy he’s had to be earlier in his life, and how those skills still serve him on occasion.

   “Midnight,” he sleepily slurs without lifting his head off the pillow.

   “Oh. I was trying to stay up… to thank you.”

   He doesn’t reply to that, because he really doesn’t know what to say, and he much prefers silence to outing himself as both stupid and incompetent where conversation is concerned.

   “I spent all night trying to figure out how you could possibly know how much I love all these things,” you quietly continue in your raspy morning voice, which he finds himself enjoying far too much, “but then I decided that it doesn’t really matter. Because I know you aren’t nearly interested enough in people to ever stalk anyone, so however you found these things out, I don’t think there’s anything bad about it.”

   You haven’t asked him anything, or indirectly posed an inquiry of any kind, so there’s nothing for him to answer, which is why he simply keeps looking at you. But in his mind, he recalls all the moments when he’s overheard you talking to your colleagues, freely sharing your interests, tastes, and dreams, as well as what things annoy, scare, or unsettle you. And he wonders if you’re even aware of how much you openly reveal about yourself without hesitation.

   He thinks you must fear a great many things to be so ready to be known. To have such a need to never be misunderstood or caught on a lie that you’ll tell complete strangers about your thoughts and feelings on almost any subject, just to ensure they’ll know in advance why you might react negatively to certain things. Because that way, no one can ever call you a liar or attack you for being dishonest or unapproachable.    He thinks you must be terribly scared of people in general, and that being completely open is your way of both protecting yourself and ensuring you won’t become closed off from the entire world.

   But for all your vigilance, like everyone else around him, you don’t seem to notice him when he works within earshot of you, or just passes by close enough to overhear a few words or sentences of whatever conversation you happen to be in.    He’s good at blending into the background when he chooses to, but he’s also aided by the fact that everyone overlooks him because they know he won’t interact with them even if they try, so it’s like their brains scrub him out of their senses to make sure they don’t waste any energy on him.

   “What I do need to know,” you continue, oblivious to his internal memory trip, “is why you would ever spend a thousand bucks on a gift for someone you don’t care the least bit about.”

   The alarm goes off again, and since he’s wide awake now, he sits up and switches it off, turning away from you as he throws his legs over the side of the bed.

   “We need to get going,” is all he replies, fully aware that he’s avoiding the issue and using the fact that you still haven’t asked him a direct question as an excuse not to answer.

   But he knows the answer. He knows it painfully well. And there’s a part of him who seriously hates that truth.    You’re always unsure around him, for good reason since he’s never made it possible for you to be comfortable and relaxed in his presence, but his dismissal this time is more than just rude. It’s cruel, because it leaves you completely unable to judge his behaviour.

   Did he do this for you because he’s trying to manipulate you? Or because he expects a favour in return? Is he trying to get into your pants?    He can tell even without looking at you that these questions now flood your mind, as the tension of fear makes the entire room electric from one moment to the next.

   Ordinarily, you don’t shy away from tough conversations. You hate it when things hang in the air like thunderclouds waiting to strike at you. But you’re also smart enough to pick your battles and you’ve understood from day one, that all discussions involving Pero are gonna be largely pointless, especially when he behaves this erratically.    But he wishes you would pick this fight.    He hates to see your fear. If only he had the guts to let you know that.

   The workday continues just like the previous ones, with the two of you on separate tasks, him working on the computer and you out on the main body of the machine, teaching the operators how to reset and mend the hydraulics.    You’re tremendously skilled at all functions of this complicated machine, especially considering how short a time you’ve spent learning it, so he’s never concerned about you working on it. The sister factory operators, on the other hand, he could outright strangle with their own incompetence.

   And it only gets worse today, after he overhears a conversation between a few of them while they’re making their way to the lunchroom.    As usual, they don’t notice him still working where they slowly pass while quietly speaking amongst themselves, and the first sentence he hears is enough to set his teeth on edge, so he abandons the work and sneaks after them.

   He’s in a seriously bad mood that evening, and you can’t help but think it has to do with you, for some reason. He doesn’t wanna look at you and every time he has to, his mood seems to sour even more, and since you have no idea what you could’ve done, it just scares you.    So, by the time you get back to the hotel, around 9pm, you’re not even thinking about laying down in the same bed as him.

   Using the same tactic as the first night, you offer him the bathroom first and then take your time in there once he’s done. Then you sneak out and quietly pull the covers and pillows down on the floor, where you make a bed for yourself.    You don’t hear anything from him, so you assume he’s already asleep, and after a little while, you manage to drift off as well. But the floor is hard, and you’re not used to that, so you wake up frequently as your body goes sore and occasionally numb from the pressure, forcing you to switch positions.

   All of which means you don’t really get a lot of sleep, and by the early hours of the morning you’re finally all but passed out from exhaustion. And of course, that’s when his alarm goes off.    You’re sleeping so heavily just then that you go back to sleep the moment the alarm is turned off, and it isn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you finally wake up fully, with an instinctive, sharp jerk away from the unfamiliar touch.

   “What are you doing on the floor, Sonriente?” he asks, and he still sounds almost angry, which makes you shrink away from him.

   But you can’t find a single word to explain how he is the reason why you’ve put yourself in such an uncomfortable position, so you just turn away and start trying to wake your limbs up enough that you can stand and maybe begin to feel a little less vulnerable.    Surprisingly though, as soon as he sees what you’re doing, he immediately reaches out and helps you until you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. Which only further confuses you because why would he help you when he’s angry with you?

   You’re trembling slightly when he lets go of you, and you’re not sure if it’s because your limbs are still in the process of waking up or if it’s adrenaline, but either way, he notices, and it seems to connect the dots for him.

   “You sleep on the floor because of me?” he quietly asks, while slowly backing away from you, and he looks either shocked or hurt. You can’t tell which.

   “I don’t know why you’re so angry… but whatever I’ve done-…”

   “No,” he cuts you off sharply, shaking his head and closing his eyes as if it’ll somehow make all of this go away. “It is not you.”

   There’s something very raw and open about him in that moment. As though his innermost being is exposed and trying to crawl back into the shadows of his heart, but hindered by whatever this thing is that’s making him so angry.

   “It is never you…” he barely whispers, and now he is the one who’s trembling.

   “But then… why? Why could you barely even look at me yesterday, and why did it seem like you only got angrier every time you did?” you question, feeling slightly bolder now that you’re starting to see how vulnerable he is in this situation.

   A ripple seems to go through him, and suddenly all the hairs on his arms stand up, and the trembling in his hands intensifies.

   “I can’t say it.” He’s gritting his teeth as he speaks, so the words come out in a slight growl, but you can sense now that this isn’t directed at you at all. “But I would never hurt you.”

   He sinks to one knee on the floor in front of you, still with his eyes closed and his head bowed, and his fists closed tightly against his thighs, but somehow you’re not the least bit scared of him anymore.    You slip off the bed and drop to your knees before him, carefully reaching a hand up to his shoulder to see how he reacts, and the moment you make contact, another ripple goes through him.

   But in the aftermath, he softens. His shoulders drop and something seems to unlock within him, so you decide to take both his hands in yours, fully expecting him not to accept the small act of comfort. But he does.    Piece by piece, he surrenders, first by letting his hands be held, and then by holding yours in return.    He’s breathing hard, and you can see the pounding of his heart in his neck and on his temples, but the longer you hold onto him, the calmer he becomes.

   “I’m sorry… for ever letting you think you had to protect yourself from me,” he eventually whispers, and his voice trembles with the anger that still simmers within him. “I promise you will never have to.”

   You feel like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again, or at least seeing sides of him you never would’ve thought even existed if this stupid trip had never happened. And it emboldens you in terms of how much you dare to stand up for yourself and demand a few explanations. Because you sure as shit have questions and it’s about time he answers them.

   “Why did you buy me the necklace, Pero?” You keep your tone soft, but you also let your voice remain strong to let him know you’re not gonna tolerate any excuses, and then you wait patiently while he gathers himself.

   “Because you were stuck here with me,” he eventually begins, and his voice is full of uncertainty now, which is something you never thought you’d hear from this man. “I know you had plans for Valentine’s and it all got ruined, but then you also had to put up with me and I just thought… maybe it would bring your smile back for a while.”

   “My smile?” Of all the reasons to give someone a gift, making them smile is certainly good enough. But this particular man wishing to make you smile is entirely unexpected.

   “You always do. Like there is a happy little film playing on the insides of your eyes all the time. Have you not noticed how everyone you meet smiles back at you?” he wonders, and you think back to all the people you’re regularly around, and then all the people you’ve met for the first time recently.

   And he’s right. Everyone always smiles at you, even the most sour office workers whenever they have to set foot in the factory where they’re no longer the experts on everything because their knowledge is all theoretical and they wouldn’t be able to operate much of anything out there on the floor.    Everyone smiles at you. Except Tovar.

   “You are sunshine,” he continues, “drawing people in with your light and warmth. It is impossible to resist.”

   “But you do. I’ve never seen you smile, not at me or anyone, for any reason, not even a smirk,” you counter, before you slip a hand out of his to reach up and gently lift his chin, because you need to see his eyes. “So, why are you suddenly acting like this matters to you?”

   It takes him a minute, in which he keeps trying not to look at you, but his eyes still return to meet yours every few seconds, as if he really can’t resist.

   “It always makes me happy to see you,” he finally admits, and he looks so small and unsure suddenly, which stuns you somewhat, because you would never even have imagined that Pero Tovar could look anything but tall, broad and competent. “I’m sorry that I am not better at showing you this.”

   It’s still so difficult to wrap your head around this, because in the entire year you’ve been around him, this man has never shown any level of care for another human being, whatsoever. As in, you’ve seen him sigh and continue working as if nothing happened, after a guy standing next to him accidentally crushed his own foot.

   “So… you’re saying you care about me?” you ask, needing the outright confirmation before you’ll even be able to begin accepting it.

   He pauses again. But this time, he meets your eyes the whole time.

   “Yes.”

   You’re a little late to work this morning, but he’s very relieved to have had the conversation you ended up having after waking up.    It had damned near broken his heart to find you on the floor, knowing it was all his fault for being such a fucked-up person that he can’t even tell you he wasn’t angry with you. And he’s absolutely certain that anyone else would’ve either gotten angry with him or just tried to avoid the conversation all together.

   But not you. You always take the hard road, because that’s how much honesty means to you, and you always manage to do it without losing your temper or getting rude about it. It’s one of a long line of things he admires about you.    And that’s precisely why he’s never dared to actually talk to you.    He doesn’t know how to do any of that. How to have honest and open conversations without losing his shit at some point. It’s destroyed every relationship he’s ever tried to have, and he’s been so scared of losing the calm and harmony you bring into his life by just existing in his presence, that he never would’ve attempted it.

   But this morning was different, because you didn’t get angry or defensive or even demanding. You just kept opening doors for him and for the first time in at least twenty years, he found the courage to step through them, one by one.    And now, when you park at the sister factory for your fourth day of working on MAP, he feels like maybe this won’t be as bad of a day as he had initially thought.

   As usual, Hannah comes out to escort you both, but there’s a grim look on her face today, and while Pero can guess the reason behind it, you still have no idea what happened here yesterday.

   “Good morning. I’m afraid we’re a bit short-staffed today so you’ll have to make due with just two extra pairs of hands on the hydraulics.”

   “Is there a flu going round, or something?” you ask, which is a valid question given that you worked closely with the three men who are out sick today and who could’ve infected you with a disease.

   “No, no. It seems there was an incident here yesterday, and a few of our workers were injured.”

   “Oh. Was it another malfunction?”

   “It appears to have been an altercation, actually,” Hannah explains, to which you raise a shocked brow. “None of the boys are talking about it, so we don’t know exactly what happened, but between them they have broken hands, arms, noses, ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a shattered knee. So, whatever went down, it was serious.”

   At this point, Pero notices a slight stutter in your steps, just before your head turns ever so slightly in his direction.    You know that he can fight, and you know he isn’t afraid to get in the middle of it when he wants to, so you’re probably guessing that he was involved in this altercation and that it explains his temper problem from yesterday. All of which is correct, and none of which he intends to confess to in front of the supervisor, which is why he’s relieved when you don’t say anything.

   Once by the control panel for MAP, however, where no other operators are working, since they’re already busy with the hydraulics, you only wait until Hannah’s moved out of earshot before you come at him.

   “What the hell, Tovar? Did you mess up those guys?” Your voice is low, but the tone is heavy with accusation and even a bit of disbelief, so you clearly never noticed the darker shades of these particular operators as they worked with you.

   “Yes,” he admits without shame or hesitation, to which your shock doubles.

   “Why would you do that?”

   He doesn’t want to answer this one, so he gets to work, hoping you’ll let it go as you usually do when he shuts you down. But of course, this is one of those times when you decide to take the fight, probably because of the progress with communication you had this morning.

   “None of them even worked with you, what reason could you possibly have to break their fucking bones?”

   Disgusting words spoken in entitled and arrogant voices suddenly flood his mind once more, and his anger re-emerges with full force. But he manages to stay in control of himself, so while he turns his head to meet your questioning gaze, none of that anger spills onto you, and it only takes you a second to realize why.    Your breath seems to die inside your lungs and for a moment he worries that you’re about to pass out. But then you suck in a shaky breath and tears form in your eyes as the understanding dawns on you.

   It’s a horrible thing to see, watching as you involuntarily envision what could’ve happened, the nausea and sudden weakness which seems to creep into your very bones even at the mere suggestion of the plans that Pero interrupted by taking them out.    If he’d needed any reassurance that his actions were just, your reaction is more than enough. But it only lasts for a few seconds, and then a different emotion begins to replace the fear and discomfort.    It takes him a minute to figure out what it is, and just as he does, you step towards him.

   The strength of your arms when they wrap around his waist is almost enough to bruise him, but he doesn’t mind.    He might not often feel deserving of someone’s gratitude, as the things he occasionally does to aid them are largely self-serving, but he does this time. Not because this threat was more real than any other, but simply because he knows and cares about you.    He’s tried not to. Tried every day not to let you creep further under his skin and infect him with your joy, but he never stood a chance.

   You don’t speak and you don’t need to. Your body tells him the truth of what you’re feeling in that moment, in the tiny shivers which keep making you tremble against him, and the strained breaths you struggle to take with your face buried against his chest. He can feel how hard you’re trying not to cry, how you bite it back with each inhale and then almost lose control of it every time your lungs empty.    But he also feels the relief within you when he wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his cheek against the side of your head.

   In this moment, he has become your safety. The place where you choose to be because it makes you feel better. And for all his accomplishments, his inventions and ideas, technical skills and comprehensive knowledge, this is the only time he can recall ever feeling truly proud of himself.    Because you’re choosing him. You. The strongest and most impressive person he’s ever met.

~~~    That night, you fall asleep lying next to him, and although he’s tired after a long and emotional day, he stays awake for a little while just to look at you. Just to make sure you’re still smiling in your sleep.    And in the following five days, which it takes to finally fix the machine, this becomes your routine every night.    So, when the day eventually comes when it’s time to return home, you’re both mildly disappointed by the prospect of going back to your empty beds.

   Still, it’s nice to come home. You see your cars still parked where you left them when you drive past the employee lot on your way to the company car slots. It’s past office hours so once you’ve collected your things, you drop the keys in a kind of mailbox designed specifically for that purpose, and then begin making your way back to your own vehicles.    Neither of you are in a hurry, and he decides to walk you to your car before he heads to his own, just to help you feel safe. He’s noticed that you’re still rattled about the incident he prevented, in how you’ve been jumpier than usual.

   “I never thought I’d say this,” you quietly muse once you reach your car, “but I’m gonna miss your presence tonight.”

   You say it with a smile, but there’s insecurity within the expression, making him think that what you’re really going to miss is the feeling of safety which his closeness over the past week has given you.

   “But it will be nice to sleep in your own bed, yes?”

   “Definitely.”

   “And we will meet for the debrief first thing in the morning,” he concludes, hoping to leave you with a brighter perspective. And perhaps also hoping that you’ll reassure him of your desire to see him again.

   “The debrief?” Your question is genuine, reminding him that this is your first time working away and that you’ve probably never been told about the follow-up procedures.

   “Yes. We must meet Gary in the morning and explain everything that’s happened and what we have done.”

   “But won’t he have gotten continuous updates from the management team over there?”

   “Of course. The debrief is to ensure that our recollection and experience of what has happened concurs with theirs, to eliminate the risk of either side trying to hide any problems or complications.    So, we will need to tell Gary about the user errors which led to the breakdown.”

   “Okay. But we’re not telling him about…” you trail off, unable to finish the sentence because the thought alone still makes you curl in on yourself.

   “It would not do much good. Those men will be dealt with by the sister factory’s human resources unit.”

   “How so? We never told them what really happened, so why would their HR get involved at all?”

   “Because I hacked their phones and took a look at their search histories and saved videos, and even the small percentage of things I anonymously sent to their HR representative will be enough to get them arrested eventually,” he confesses, and it somehow still surprises him just how warm it makes him feel inside when he sees the relief in your frame.

   “Careful, Pero. I might start spreading a rumour that you’re secretly the sweetest guy in the world,” you joke, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind the teasing tone.

   “Go ahead, Sonriente. No one would believe you.”

   He says it with a soft note to his voice, just to make sure you know he wouldn’t mind if you did decide to spread rumours about him, regardless of what they might concern, if it would in any way help you feel good.

   “That’s definitely true,” you agree, mirroring his softness, and a slight spark lights up somewhere in your eyes then. “But you know, I kinda like that I’m the only who’s seen this other side of you.”

   “You may take all the credit for this yourself, because no one else has a hope of drawing it out of me. But it seems, against you, I have no defences anymore.”

   The smile you give him in response to that is enough to make him wish he could always sleep beside you. But this is where you finally part ways for the night.    He waits until you’re safely locked inside your car before he heads over to his own, already missing your closeness when he takes a seat and buckles up, and already accepting the fact that he won’t get much sleep tonight.

   It almost feels stupid how relieved you are to see him again the next morning. And the way his eyes light up when you walk into Gary’s office, just a few seconds past the dotted time, makes you wanna sit down on his lap rather than the chair beside him.    But you notice how discreet his reaction is now that there’s an audience, compared to how directly he’s been allowing you to see his emotions while you’ve been couped up together in that hotel room.    So, even though he might like you, he’s not prepared for the world to know about it, which is why you greet him with just a polite nod while you take your seat.

   “Good morning,” Gary grumbles in his characteristically sour morning mood. “So, this took a bit longer than I’d hoped, but I see you got the MAP working again, well done.”

   “Yeah. It was shot to shit when we got there,” you chip in, immediately back to expecting Tovar not to speak unless he’s asked a question, since that is still his normal state of being.

   “I saw the pictures of the hard drives. Someone sure did a real number on that thing.”

   “I’m guessing more than one someone. But we’ve shown them how to operate it correctly now, so hopefully it won’t happen again.”

   He asks you to go over the repair process day by day, and he has a lot of questions along the way, and true to form, your colleague remains silent unless Gary addresses him, so it ends up being a lot of talking for you.    But as it begins to wind down, you start to wonder if Pero is being deliberately silent specifically because he wants you to talk through it.

   He’s always quiet at work, that’s not unusual. But this was his repair job, not yours. You were just the extra hands, which means that this debrief should be primarily directed at him, yet by keeping his mouth shut, he’s forcing the supervisor to focus on you. And in doing so, you’re getting a chance to unpack everything that’s happened, at least in your own head, even though you’re editing stuff out before you speak.    Gary knows better than to push his top employee for a comment when the man is clearly not in a talkative mood, so it works perfectly, if indeed that is what the Spaniard’s doing.

   “Alright, I think I’ve got everything I need, so unless either of you have anything you wanna add, we can wrap it up here.”

   “Nope, all good,” you cheerfully declare, feeling lighter than you have in the past few days.

   “No critique you wanna hurl at me? About the hotel or the car? No jackass operator giving you a hard time over there, or anything?”

   From the corner of your eye, you see Tovar shift ever so slightly in his seat, and you wonder if he’s thinking about the men he hurt, or the one bed hotel room you initially hadn’t wanted to share with him.    But he says nothing, so you just shake your head at your supervisor and then the two of you leave his office and head onto the factory floor to get started on your regular workday.

   It’s nice to be back at your own station with your regular crew. It feels safe and familiar. But you find yourself thinking about Pero almost every second of the day. Wondering what he’s up to whenever you can’t see him at his station and wondering if he’s thinking about you at all whenever you do see him.    He never looks at you while he’s working, at least not that you can tell, so by lunchtime you’re pleased when he falls in beside you while you walk towards the breakroom, although it is a bit disappointing when he still takes his usual spot at the far end of the room rather than choosing to sit with you.

   But you do understand. It’s not like he’s gonna become a different person just because the two of you have begun to build a friendship, and you wouldn’t want him to.    So, you take your usual seat and play along with the customary banter, answering everyone's questions about the sister factory and what you got up to over there, and it all feels comfortably normal.

   Until someone makes a remark about Pero, the kind of thing you would’ve previously just ignored, but which now that you feel closer to your taciturn colleague, you suddenly find offensive.

   “Bet this one charmed everyone’s socks off,” the operator smirks, throwing a thumb in Tovar’s general direction after you’ve just finished describing the difficulty of coming in as the experts and trying to find a good working dynamic with a different crew.

   And in that moment, the fact that the Spaniard never defends himself, despite seriously fucking people up for just talking about hurting you, just makes you feel like it’s your turn to have his back and teach this crew not to talk about him like he isn’t even there.

   “No, he didn’t. But he did manage to charm my pants off.”

   You say it frankly, leaving no question that it’s the truth, even though you’re twisting the narrative a bit to make it sound like the two of you hooked up, when you’re actually just referring to him making you feel safe enough to sleep beside him in nothing but your panties and a top.    Still, the effect it has on the entire room is worth the fib.

   They all know you’re not easy. It takes a lot just for someone to get a date with you, courtesy of trust issues because of previous experiences. Nothing traumatic, thankfully, but enough that you always have your guard up and actively look for red flags in every guy you meet. Also, you’re very clear on what you want and what you tolerate, as well as what you don’t, which is enough to deter a great many men.    So, for you to let a mystery like Pero anywhere near you, he has to have insanely good game, and not one of the people in that breakroom with you can picture a reality where that’s even possible.

   Which results in a highly amusing blend of shocked and disbelieving faces, some frozen while they’re clearly trying to visualize this alternate universe, while others are just staring at Tovar, still sitting there perfectly calmly in his usual spot, reading something on his phone.    And the best part is, none of them have the guts to ask him about it, because they’re all just as scared of him as you still were two weeks ago. Which means that all they can do is live with this incredibly shocking revelation, presumably forever.

   You continue to chuckle about it for the rest of the day, and when the next shift arrives to relieve you, from a distance, you can see how they too are informed of this latest piece of gossip. So, odds are, this is now gonna be the talk of the factory for the foreseeable future.

   “You know you will be the topic of discussion for a long time now,” Pero cautions as if he’s just read your mind, while he comes to help you clean up before you leave your station.

   “It’s harmless, I don’t mind. Besides, it is true.”

   “Technically. But I do not like them thinking of you as a conquest. Mine or anyone else’s.”

   “Okay. Then shut them down,” you smile, and he can tell there’s a hidden meaning behind those words, but he can’t quite make it out, so you decide to spell it out for him. “Let’s go on a date.”

   Your confidence ebbs out about halfway through the sentence, resulting in a sudden fade of both volume and potency, so the word date comes out all strangled and barely even audible. But you’ve said it now, so you might as well soldier on.

   “What I mean is, I would like to go on a date with you. You’re free to decline, of course,” you elaborate, feeling more insecure by the second, even turning your head down to look at your shoes because you suddenly remember how much rejection stings, which you somehow hadn’t thought about until just now.

   “Do you like empanadas?” he asks then, and his voice is soft, just like it always was when the two of you were alone together in the hotel room this last week.

   “I’ve never tried them,” you confess, still unsure of what he means by that, but then he gives you a little smile.

   “Then I will make them for you. My mother’s recipe is a bit spicy, but I think you can handle it.”

   Relief and joy wash over you as you realize he’s agreeing, and your responding smile feels like it blossoms out of you. Like there’s no connection between your brain and your heart in that moment, it just happens because the feeling is too big to control.

   “Okay. So… your place?”

   “You choose. If you wish to have the option to leave if you feel uncomfortable: my place. If you wish to eat by a table and not sitting in the sofa: your place.”

   “For the record, I know I’d feel safe at your place. But yeah, a table might be nice,” you chuckle, and he nods in agreement, so you decide to be bold. “How about tonight, maybe 6pm?”

   “Sure,” he quietly agrees, but you can tell he’s pleased that you didn’t suggest waiting until the weekend.

   “Great. And if you’re gonna cook then I’ll get dessert.” You say it while starting to walk towards the assembled crews, ridiculously happy to see them still flabbergasted at the realization that their grumpiest colleague apparently has more game than all of them.  

But when you turn your back to him, you miss how his expression changes as he follows you, turning from a controlled interest and mild happiness, to almost tearful with gratitude that you’d still choose to spend time with him even when you no longer need to.    He might not be ready to show it in front of the others, but the brightness you pour into his soul with just your smile and your willingness to give him a chance, would make him glow in the dark if it was visible.    You might not have figured it out yet, but Pero Tovar already belongs to you, so all you need to do to have your forever Valentine, is simply to keep choosing him.

   I’m not gonna write THE END on this one, because I feel like I’m gonna be returning to these two at some point, so please let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.    All my love, always.    /Jay

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

[heavenb3nt]

Some thoughts about spy’s gang from the self-help audio (part of call me master: inner demons)

Something that kills me about the self-help audio is spy’s almost friend group. Them being a gang is very reminiscent of 13s fam to me. We know that spy doesn’t have friends later on, so we know this ends badly, every audio in which the master connects with someone has even the nicest moments tinged with the crushing inevitability of knowing the master is fundamentally very alone, and even connections that have real promise won’t last, no matter what.

The group are really fun, and I especially love how the advice he gives leslie at the start is, surprisingly, not bad? He has no tact, and no care for how her life turns out at this point, but the advice is solid. The time will pass anyway, no one is coming to save you, do what you want. Looking at his life it’s easy to see how he thinks that’s what someone her age, in her position needs to hear.

The moment in the waterfall, where him, garf, leslie and silla are all laughing, is so perfect, it’s great. He found people he actually has fun with. Him being right about silla too, takes one to know one, and his “I’m so proud of you” when she tells him, he’s so genuinely happy. Not just because he was right, but because he clocked her as being like him.

Him leaving them was such a bad sign, it’s downhill from there. His plans had fallen through over and over until he found out it was pointless from the start, he went back to his old name, ditched his almost friends, and went out to “spread chaos”. Sure he’s found himself, but the him that played badminton with the gang is no less real than the him who axe murders, he’s the chaotic one, like he said, he’s both.

I find that to parallel the doctor, the master isn’t the only one who ditches people so they can travel alone, because they think that’s what they need to do. It didn’t go very well for 10 did it. Or when 11 isolated himself. Neither of them have much that can ground them. When the master has people around they can connect with, they are usually (if temporarily) a happier person. Masterful is full of examples like that, with decayed and kitty (one of the best examples, and a devastating story) and missy and jo grant. The master isn’t immune to needing connection, they just pathologically can’t maintain any kind of relationship that isn’t an obsessive psychosexual mess of a dynamic with the doctor.

[rizzoreads88]

You know what I love? Azriel didn’t have to go and save Gwyn from the blood Rite because he knew she could take care of herself. He trained her so he knew. He saved Elain because she was weak and defenseless and a damsel and sat in a tent and waited for someone to save her. And guess what Gwyn did in the Blood rite? Actually made an effort and helped and even stayed up in the tree. That was her SPYING!!!!!!! Who’s to say Azriel didn’t give her any tips during the time he went over dagger handling? Gave her tips on how to spy? It’s great foreshadowing from S.J.M!!

And I cant wait for Azriel to gift Gwyn a dagger so she can name it Silver Majesty. S.J.M gave us that for a reason. At least she’ll accep it. Unlike Elain who gave back TruthTelller. Gwyn sees Azriel’s love for daggers and it is seen in the bonus. “A comfort for every growing child.” I can’t wait for them to have a child (this was foreshadowed with the above line) and they can have bad ass warrior parents.

The next book is taking forever because S.J.M got bored writing Elain’s book so she has changed it to Gwynriel. I can’t wait for their endgame and for the rest of the Elriels to finally leave our space. Gwynriels have been here longer. It’s time for others to go now who can’t accept Gwynriel is endgame.

I don’t like people pinning Gwyn and Elain against each other but since you wanted to come in my anons doing so let’s go through all your points from canon. Both Gwyn and Elain are great characters and are strong in different ways. But now that I’ve read your fanon theories let me respond with some canon.

whether Azriel believes in Gwyns abilities or not that man cared more about his enemy Eris than when she was drugged and kidnapped by multiple men…. Is that how mates act? not according to Ruhn!

Ruhn glared at her as Hunt continued to glow and menace. It means that he’s going ballistic in the way that only mates can when the other is threatened. It’s what happened then, and what’s happening now.

Azriel may not have been able to go to the blood rite but that wouldn’t have stopped him from showing emotion around his friends if he actually cared anough to. In acowar we see azriel is full of rage and is the first to notice Elain was taken. So he will show emotion like that over Elain but not his supposed mate? lol …...it’s funny you guys try to talk around azriel not really reacting to gwyn being kidnapped to the blood right by saying “it’s bc he knew she could handle herself!” Yet cassian was there and knew Nesta could handle herself and he was still freaking out. Cassian still showed concern over Emerie and Gwyn too.

“Gwyn was spying”. So I guess everyone in the blood rite are spys now?! It’s funny Emerie and Nesta watched their enemies at times too but no one credits them to being a spy. You guys can try and claim Gwyn is a spy blahhhh but SJM doesn’t compare Gwyn to any spy tactics at all in the books. But ya know who she does? Elain. You know who they wonder if azriel is training w spy techniques? Elain lol

She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.”

“Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps. Hadn’t heard any sound for moments.”

“Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him”

“Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

You know who’s good at keeping secrets like a spy does… Elain. You know who’s not? Gwyn lol Nesta tells Gwyn how they are looking for the trove and not tell anyone at all and what does Gwyn do? Tells Merrill

“At least gwyn would keep the dagger” In Acowar Azriel never gave Elain his dagger to keep. He lent it to her. For a side that screams Elriels have no reading comprehension I would think you’de understand this by now… the I won’t be using it today line means she can use it FOR THE DAY not keep it. So of course she gives it back after she’s done w it.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

The emphasis SJM puts on the truth teller scene is that Azriel has never let anyone else touch it ever and he still lends it to Elain.

Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade— Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

It’s pretty telling how Azriel has been training Gwyn(and the other ladies) for months w daggers, has even had at least 1 private dagger lesson with Gwyn but hasn’t let her even touch truth teller ….. but sureeeee she’ll get silver majesty or gray bullet or whatever other name yall want to make for truth teller other than it’s actual name in the books.

“Elains weak Gwyn is stronger!!” First of all both ladies are bad ass. Yes Gwyn did some really cool things in the blood rite and helped fight to stay alive alongside Nesta and Emerie, but Elain killed a evil king.Fought Hybern beasts w her bare feet, and this is without any actual training. Elain has badass powers and has put them on to finding Vassa, the suriel during the war, and looking into Koschei. And let’s see what Azriel thinks of Elain.

Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. “The queen—with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

When everyone else thought there was something wrong with her and she was going crazy… Azriel was the one who knew she didn’t need anything. Azriel was the one to figure out she was a seer. Azriel was the one who realized they needed her.

I have no idea what your going on about in that last paragraph. I’m going to read whatever SJM writes because it’s not that serious. In fact most elriels say regardless of who ends up together they will continue reading the books. It’s a lot of the gwynr/els who post about how they won’t read a Elriel book blah blah blah. But trying to say Gwynriels have been around longer? You’re funny w that one. Seeing how gwyn is only in 1 book yet elriel has been being foreshadowed since acomaf. There’s been elriels around since then.

[sugarandspite05]

im sure this theory is frequent but i got my friends to start yellowjackets (yippie!) and one of my friends said that adult taissa looks "robotic” in the scene where they’re taking family photos. and i don't know why it took me this long to realize, but when she mentioned that i was like….

okay, so the lines between other tai and normal tai just have to be blurred. it’s clear that adult tai doesn’t have control over other tai and it’s ruining her life…. or is it?

but anyway other tai doesn't just come out when shes asleep, its when shes awake too. and i get that, but i guess my friends comment just woke me up to the fact that when adult tai is on screen it could rlly be other tai or normal tai at any given moment, you have to really focus to see a switch. that’s if the switch is even noticeable?? i think it will get to the point of no one being able to tell. and tawny cypress is sooo good at showing the subtle changes in her face when needed, so honestly im feeling like ive been very dense this entire time😭 and now that im looking over these old scenes it rlly just shows me that other tai and normal tai are just coequal.

and then that also makes me believe that at some point tai is gonna fully release herself and embrace other tai. i mean, that’s what these recent s3 episodes are showing me.

(taivan appreciation coming out here now) i 1000% believe van is the catalyst for tai FULLY accepting and embracing herself… good tai and evil tai alike.

now thinking back to shauna telling tai about her affair, tai says what she had with simone was good, stable, but it’s clear that the “spark” she felt was referring to van, the relationship that’s messy and the inherent bad choice based on their shared trauma. but tai has always wanted van. and i think taissa’s demeanor change in season 2 really exemplifies the exploration of other tai, and that correlation to van. it always has. i mean, she goes to find van because of it.

but focusing on tai’s character, it’s also noticeable how her appearance even changes too, how her dress becomes more laid back and more masculine as she strays away from being a politician and keeping up her self image (she literally hires jessica robert’s for this very reason). jesus, i adore taissa’s character so much… but that’s more yapping for another day.

but overall there’s this freedom now that current tai is experiencing that she was heavily lacking before, and i believe the last time she felt it was the wilderness. so, i do think tai will eventually kill someone for van and other tai will take complete control. but then again, who knows with this show anymore… my faith in the writing is very very slowly weaning but i still have hope in this show