#but I filled him in on my thought process and plans for this story and he's intrigued

[objecks]

when i was 12 this was the coolest most mindblowing shit ever i was genuinely so obsessed with it I'd read it very day like the bible. I would die for a version of this with the post 3D world content over my country

[hoshifighting]

    cold hearted!jeonghan + virginity loss

— after the rumors spread about Jeonghan, the coldest guy in the university, having the biggest crush on you, you ask him to be your first.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, virginity loss, oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, begging, protected sex.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

it feels almost too easy.

you’ve spent years skirting around the idea, dropping hints here and there to guys you thought could be good enough, but somehow it never worked out. none of them felt right—not that it was about romance, but the hesitation always lingered when it came down to it. maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the wrong guys, but the frustration built up to the point where you just wanted to get it over with.

and then there’s jeonghan.

the guy everyone whispers about, cold-hearted, unapproachable, but with a reputation that’s impossible to ignore. girls gossiping in between lectures, bathrooms filled with whispers of him being distant yet insanely attractive. and somewhere along the line, you heard it—the rumor that he had the fattest crush on you.

the thought of it festered in your mind for weeks. yo know him, a few polite exchanges, some assignments you did together, pairing up on p.e... there’s a confidence in your gut that he’ll say yes.

you hadn’t planned on showing up at his dorm unannounced, yet here you are, standing outside jeonghan’s door with a racing heart and sweaty palms. knocking felt surreal, like a dream you might regret later, but you do it anyway because you’re desperate. a familiar, twisted excitement coils low in your stomach when you hear footsteps, and the door swings open to reveal jeonghan—leaning against the frame, as nonchalant as ever.

“what’s up?” he asks, eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read your thoughts. the casualness in his voice makes you almost forget why you’re here. almost.

“can i come in?” you stammer.

he steps aside without a word, allowing you to slip past him into the small room. his dorm smells faintly of laundry detergent and something minty. it’s tidy, too—unexpectedly so.

“this is new,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed, arms folded, watching you. “you showing up here and all.”

you laugh nervously, wringing your hands as you stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. “yeah, well… i’ve been thinking.”

his eyebrow quirks up, like he’s daring you to keep going. but you hesitate, biting your lip, trying to find the right words. you’ve played this conversation out in your head a thousand times, but now, under his steady gaze, everything feels impossible to say.

he tilts his head. “you’re not here to ask me about the assignment, are you?”

“no,” you blurt, suddenly sitting down on the chair next to his bed. you can’t meet his eyes. “it’s… something else.”

silence stretches between you. jeonghan waits, patient, but there’s something flickering in his expression now—curiosity, maybe.

you take a deep breath, your voice shaky but determined. “i want you to be my first.”

his eyes widen, and for the first time, jeonghan looks genuinely caught off guard. “what?”

“i… i want to lose my virginity.” you blurt out, no point in dancing around it anymore. you’ve been holding onto this for years, and you’re tired. tired of hearing your friends share their stories, tired of feeling left behind.

“you want me to do it?” he shakes his head, leaning back on his elbows, processing your words. “so what, you just wanna pop your cherry and bounce?”

“no!” you shake your head quickly, heart pounding as you try to explain. “i just… i don’t want my first time to be with some asshole. everyone else would treat me like a joke. but you… you wouldn’t, right?” your voice is small, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but it’s true. jeonghan might have a reputation, but he’s never been cruel.

he closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall. inside, you can tell he’s thrilled—maybe he’s been dreaming about this. but the mask he wears is cold, detached, like he’s doing you a favor.

“you’re serious?” he asks, voice low.

“yeah,” you whisper.

he doesn’t move for a moment, just staring at you, like he’s deciding whether or not to believe you. then, slowly, he leans in, his face inches from yours. his breath is warm, and your heart skips a beat. it’s almost too much to handle, and you blink up at him, your voice a nervous squeak.

“are you… are you gonna kiss me?”

jeonghan furrows his brow, like it’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “what, you thought i was just gonna—” he stops, and you see the slightest flicker of a smile. “—get straight to it?”

you shrink into yourself a little, cheeks burning. “maybe?”

he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your stomach twist. “nah, you’re way too cute for that.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours—wet, sloppy, and everything you didn’t expect. there’s no rush, no hurried fumbling. just him, kissing you slow and deep, making sure you feel everything. his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you melt into the kiss, your body buzzing.

then, he takes your hand, guiding it down to his lap, pressing it against the hard length straining through his sweatpants. you freeze, your breath hitching at the sudden contact.

“feel that?” he murmurs against your lips, voice husky. “that’s going inside you.. do you think you can take it.”

your fingers curl around him instinctively, squeezing just enough to make him groan softly. “i can.” you bite your lip.

“still sure about this?” he asks, his breath heavy.

you nod.

jeonghan's hands are all over you, moving so effortlessly, and before you know it, your clothes are off, tossed somewhere in the room. he’s slow, but it’s not the kind of slow that makes you feel exposed—more like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time like he’s got all night. and maybe he does.

when he spreads your legs, the sudden awareness of what’s happening, of how vulnerable you are, hits you. you instinctively cover your face with your hands, but you can still feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your body.

“cute,” he murmurs. “you hiding from me now?”

your breath catches in your throat, but you peek through your fingers to see him smirking, looking like he’s in complete control. and maybe that’s what makes it less terrifying—he’s not rushing. he’s not judging. he’s just... there.

when his head dips between your thighs, you tense, unsure of what to expect. your heart races, and you let out a shaky breath as his mouth hovers over you, his warm breath ghosting over your already wet folds. then he licks, slow and slick, and you almost orgasm there, the warm tongue on your clit making your eyes slightly roll back.

“fuck,” you gasp, your hands clutching the sheets beside you, your face burning.

he pulls back slightly, lips glistening, his eyes locking with yours. “relax,” he says. “we’ve barely started.”

and then his tongue is back, sliding through every fold, licking with a patience that’s almost agonizing. he’s focused, making sure you feel everything—every lick, every brush of his lips, every soft kiss to your inner thigh between his slow, sensual movements.

your chest heaves as you try to process the sensations, but it’s overwhelming. this is what you’ve been missing out on all these years? the thought is almost laughable now, especially when he sucks on your clit, gently at first, then harder, leaving it swollen and pulsing.

“oh my god,” you cry out, the sound escaping you before you can stop it.

jeonghan grins against you, winking naughty, and as if to rub it in, he gives your clit a playful suck, sending you squealing. he looks up at you, still grinning. “you like that?”

you don’t even answer, can’t answer, because your brain is too fogged up. you can’t think, can barely breathe, and he hasn’t even started properly yet.

his hand travels down between your legs, and he presses a finger against your slick entrance, not pushing in just yet, just applying pressure, teasing. “have you ever had your little fingers here?” he asks curious.

your face burns at his words, but you nod “just one finger,” you admit, shy and sly, like a secret you’re embarrassed to reveal.

the way you say it—so sweet, so unsure—makes him throb inside his sweatpants. he exhales heavily, eyes darkening as he pushes his finger inside, just the tip at first, slowly. “just one, hmm?”

you bite your lip, nodding as he slides the rest of his finger in. the sensation is new, unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable, his finger is a bit longer than yours. he’s careful, attentive even, and that’s what makes you relax into the feeling.

“you’re so tight,” he mutters as he adds a second finger, stretching you out even more. you wince slightly at the stretch, but the way he curls his fingers inside you, scissoring them slowly, almost instantly makes the discomfort melt.

your hips buck instinctively as he works you open, his movements precise, his eyes fixed on you like he’s studying every reaction. “how’s that feel?”

“good,” you breathe, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

he chuckles softly, his free hand moving up to caress your thigh as his fingers pump in and out of you, his pace maddeningly slow. “you’re getting impatient, aren’t you?”

you whine in response, your voice shaky. “take your clothes off,” you mumble, your neediness evident in your tone.

jeonghan pauses, amusement flickering in his eyes. “hmm? what’s that?”

“take them off,” you repeat, a little more urgent this time, your voice coming out in a needy whine.

he grins, leaning over you, his face inches from yours. “patience, baby,” he says, his voice soft, but there’s a teasing edge to it. “you really wanna see me naked that bad?”

you nod, shameless now, your body craving the sight of him, the feeling of him against you. he’s been teasing you for too long, and it’s driving you insane.

“just wait a little longer,” he says, his tone mock-sulky, like he’s the one being deprived. but there’s a smile playing on his lips, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, the way you’re practically begging for him.

his fingers curl inside you again, hitting a spot that has you arching off the bed, a soft moan escaping your lips. “you’re so cute like this,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he works a third finger inside you, stretching you even more.

you whimper at the new stretch, your body trembling, but it’s the good kind of overwhelming now. the kind that has you clenching around him, needing more.

“jeonghan...” you whisper, your voice breathless, desperate.

he smirks, his thumb brushing over your clit as he scissoring his fingers inside you, spreading you open. “i love seeing you like this,” he murmurs. “all wet for me, begging like that.”

you don’t even care how wrecked you sound when you plead, “please, jeonghan. take them off.”

he laughs softly, shaking his head. “soon,” he says, his voice dripping with promise. “just let me enjoy this a little more.”

jeonghan keeps his fingers inside you, watching every twitch of your body as you clench around him, so tight he almost groans himself. you’re so close, it’s written all over your face, but you don’t even seem to notice it—lost somewhere, breathing heavily but not quite there yet. and he’s not about to let you drift off when you’re so close to cum.

“mm, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers moving just a little faster, curling them in that spot he’s already learned by heart. “you don’t even know, do you?”

you blink, dazed, barely processing his words, but then you feel his lips on your nipple—a soft peck at first, then a sharp bite that has you gasping, your hips jerking against his hand.

“there you are,” he smirks, teeth grazing over your sensitive skin as he feels you clench around his fingers again, tighter this time. “you were drifting away, but i need you right here with me. focus.”

your body reacts instantly, the tension building again, winding tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back anymore. his fingers pump in and out, wet and slick with your dampness, and the obscene sound of it fills the room as he brings you right to the edge.

“fuck, jeonghan—” your voice is shaky, barely holding it together as your hips start moving on their own, grinding down onto his hand. you’re not even sure when it happens, but suddenly, the tight coil inside you snaps, and you’re coming hard around his fingers, your body tensing, then releasing all at once.

“oh my god,” you cry out, your back arching off the bed as you orgasm, wet and messy. you’re so slick that his fingers slide easily in and out, coated in the creamy evidence of your cum. jeonghan’s eyes are glued to you, watching the way your body trembles, how soaked you are, and the satisfied smirk on his face says it all.

“so fucking wet,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, fingers still buried deep inside you. he slows down his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, his thumb brushing lazily over your clit. “you didn’t even realize how close you were, huh?”

you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath, your mind foggy from the bliss.

he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, his eyes flicking up to yours. “wanna see me take it all off now?” he teases, pulling his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every inch of them as they slip free. your breath hitches, still sensitive, but you nod eagerly, the post-orgasmic haze making you a little desperate.

“please,” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse, but the need is clear.

he grins, sitting up and tugging his shirt off halfway, but he pauses, eyes scanning the room. “wait a second,” he says, a bit too casual, as he starts searching around for something.

“what are you doing?” you ask, frustration creeping into your voice. he’s making you wait, again, and you’re about to protest when he holds up a condom, waving it in front of you with a satisfied smirk.

“can’t forget this,” he says, climbing back onto the bed.

you roll your eyes, still breathless, but your gaze drops to his chest as he slides the shirt the rest of the way off. his hand runs slowly down his chest, over his belly, and lower still to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“calm down,” he teases, his voice sweet, noticing the way your eyes are locked on his every move. “i’m not going anywhere.”

your breath hitches as he pulls his pants and boxers down, finally revealing himself to you. his cock is hard, flushed, and slick with precum, and you can’t stop yourself from staring.

“fuck, you’re pretty,” you mutter under your breath, barely aware you said it out loud until you see the way his lips curl into a grin.

“you’re the pretty one,” he counters, his voice soft as he strokes himself once, twice, before rolling the condom on. his eyes flick up to yours again, playful but with a hint of seriousness. “ready?”

you nod, your body buzzing as he lines himself up with your entrance. he slides the tip inside, and you both groan at the contact. it’s slow at first, his cock pushing into you inch by inch, and you can feel the stretch, how full he’s making you feel already.

but then, right when he’s halfway in, you gasp, “wait—stop.”

he freezes instantly, his eyes searching your face. “you okay?”

instead of answering, your hand slips between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his cock. the sudden contact makes him shudder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning low in his throat. you give him a little shake, feeling the hardness of him pulsing in your hand, then slowly start guiding him deeper inside you.

you guide him in slowly, inch by inch, until your hand has nowhere else to go, and he's buried completely inside you, balls deep. you’re panting, your body adjusting to the size of him, and when you pout your lips for a kiss, jeonghan leans in without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little scoff you let out between moans. the sensation of him stretching you so perfectly has your head spinning.

he pulls back slightly, eyes glued to yours as he starts moving, his hips rolling in slow thrusts. it’s a sharp sting at first, but nowhere near as painful as you expected, and the more he moves, the more that sting fades, replaced by a growing heat that makes your breath catch in your throat.

you don’t even notice the way your lips curl into the nastiest grin, like you finally got what you’ve been wanting, and you’re enjoying every second of it. jeonghan sees it though, sees the way your expression shifts from tentative to pure satisfaction, and it drives him fucking wild. his steady thrusts falter for a second, and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check.

“fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he watches you. “you look like you’re having the time of your life right now.”

you moan in response, not even trying to hide it anymore. “i am.”

that’s all the encouragement he needs. his thrusts pick up, sharper now, deeper, and with each roll of his hips, his balls slap against your ass. the bed squeaks in time with his movements, but you barely notice, too caught up in the pleasure. your moans spill out freely, louder and more unrestrained, each one sending a jolt straight to his gut.

jeonghan’s losing it, the sight of you, the sound of you—it’s gonna replay in his mind for days, haunting him like a ghost, but right now, he’s not thinking about that. right now, all he can focus on is the way your body feels underneath him, how you seem to want this just as much as he does. his hips move faster, thrusts sharper and more purposeful, and fuck, you’re taking it all so well.

“god, you—” he groans, his voice strained. “you feel so fucking good. you don’t even know.”

his pace quickens, his hips rolling harder, and you gasp, your body arching up to meet him halfway. he’s hitting all the right spots now, and your moans turn into desperate little cries, your fingers gripping the sheets as you lose yourself in the feeling.

he notices how much you like it—how your body responds to every sharp thrust, how your moans get louder, and that nasty smile on your face only grows. it’s too much for him, but he tries to bury the overwhelming need down in his gut, focusing on fucking you just right.

but even then, he can’t help it—the more you react, the more he loses control, his hips working in sharper, stronger thrusts, the rhythm getting rougher as he chases that perfect high for both of you.

“you like that?” he asks, his voice rough, but the way your body clenches around him is answer enough.

he can’t help but smirk at your desperate little gasps. each thrust brings a little more pleasure, and your nails dig into his back, urging him on as you match his pace.

“more,” you whimper, the need spilling from your lips like a prayer. “please, jeonghan, don’t stop.”

he chuckles, making your heart race. “as if I could,” he replies, picking up the pace even more. you feel that familiar heat pooling deep inside you again.

he can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss to your neck as he continues to rock into you, relishing in every little sound that escapes your mouth.

“that’s it,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot. “let me hear you.”

your moans grow louder, echoing off the walls as you feel the pressure building within you again. your body thrums with need as you claw at him, the sensation of him filling you completely making everything else fade away. you’re lost in him, in this moment, and nothing else matters.

“i’m so close,” you manage to gasp, your words barely coherent as your hips start moving on their own, desperate for that release.

jeonghan feels it, too—your body tightening around him, the way you’re pushing back against him, and it drives him crazy. he grips your hips tighter, controlling your movements, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you right to the edge.

“cum pretty, cum f’me,” he urges sultry, and you can feel that heat building to a boiling point.

“jeonghan—” your voice breaks, and just like that, you’re falling, you’re gripping him tightly, your body spasming as you cum, crying out his name as everything blurs into a haze.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans, his own pleasure rising as he watches you unravel beneath him. “so fucking beautiful.”

the way your body squeezes him as you ride out your orgasm sends him over the edge, and he follows you, thrusting harder as he lets go, filling the condom as you both collapse.

you both lie there for a moment, breathless, the only sounds filling the room are your mingled breaths and the soft creaking of the bed. jeonghan brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a lazy grin spreading across his lips as he looks down at you.

“so, do I get to be the one who pops that cherry again sometime?”

“if you’re lucky,” you tease bakc, but deep down, you know you’re both hooked, and this was just the beginning.

[luviestarz]

lee haechan fic recs! part 2 ❤︎

note! : used all the old fics i could find that i enjoyed

❤︎ Love at First Bite…literally!? - @huangberryyy (Wherein Haechan finally gets the chick flick moment he dreamt of. Or wherein Haechan finally understands the appeal of being bitten by bitches.)

❤︎ the bet - @tyonfs (you and lee donghyuck created a bet that stated you two would have sex if he made the winning shot. now, you’re pinned up against the lockers, about to do the one thing best friends don’t do, and you definitely shouldn’t be wanting more.)

❤︎ Babe Watch [M]  - @milfgyuu (You and Haechan both have big plans this summer. You’re going to earn yourself a spot on the infamous Baywatch team and Haechan’s deadset on getting the girl. It just so happens that both your plans intersect quite nicely.)

❤︎ [8:02pm] - @nctsworld (in which a spontaneous dance in the kitchen with donghyuck sparks a revelation about how you feel about him.)

❤︎ beware the panty perv ♡ ldh x reader - @guanana (there’s a mystery at hand! it seems like your panties have been vanishing into thin air whenever you need them most? angry that your favorite pairs of panties are going missing, you decide to put on your detective hat in hopes of finding the mysterious lingerie bandit. but between all of the guys that you sleep with— you can’t seem to pinpoint who the culprit could be. it couldn’t possibly be your absolute geek of a tutor for calculus, right? nah.)

❤︎ september 19. - @hyucks-archive

❤︎ SURE THING (L.DH) - @domjaehyun

❤︎ young gods (l.dh) - @606fm (in the midst of committing felonies in the dark, lee donghyuck—your literal partner in crime and ride or die for life—manages to snag your heart in the process without you even realizing it. i mean, what the hell did you expect from seoul city’s most notorious robber?)

❤︎ [7:43am] - @aesthyuckic

❤︎ haechan is obsessed with you. - @haechurch

❤︎ the right one. (m) - @starryhyuck (donghyuck doesn’t like you going on dates with anyone else, especially lee jeno. you’re supposed to be his. and only his.)

❤︎ meow haechan using a lot of tongue meow meow  - @ofjunemoment (or: you’re thinking of getting a tongue piercing, but you’re not sure how haechan feels)

❤︎ attention - @pinkynana (gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.)

❤︎ free falling - @sunpopz (your friend haechan has been acting kinda weird lately.. does it have anything to do with you? maybe it does, considering he keeps looking at you like you're gonna kill him any second. well, that and he randomly liked a three month old picture of you.)

❤︎ haechan — just for you (m) - @hyuckmov (because haechan thought you were irresistible when you were clever, if only because he knew he was the only one who could make your brain go empty.)

❤︎ Started With A Kiss - @sundaysundaes (Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?)

❤︎ if I lose my mind - @slightlymore (you’ve never cared much for your dreams. they were always confusing nonsense you forgot in the morning. this until you started to have the same dream again and again and again: a lobby, pleasant elevator music in the background, many golden doors, a handsome young man welcoming you and asking where you wanted to go that night. his name was haechan and apparently you weren’t supposed to know that, let alone fall in love with him.)

❤︎ this is the story of how we fell in love, apparently. - @navyhyuck (running a youtube channel with your best friend isn’t easy, not when he’s like a ticking time bomb that’s constantly bubbling up something new. what’s worse is that you’ve had a crush on him for the past three years.)

❤︎ face sitting - @haetkeeper

❤︎ pervert (M) - @haechannielove (you confront haechan on his disgusting and constant objectification of you.)

❤︎ Pearlescent - @d-nghy-ck (A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion.) 

❤︎ i love it, starboy - @staargirlblog (slight yandere! idol! haechan x fangirl! reader)

❤︎ college boyfriend!haechan - @lvlyynim

❤︎ perv!haechan - @4everhyucks

❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)

[occamstfs]

Triple Shot Theft

Trying to nab himself a sweet treat, Liam finds himself growing into the behemoth whose order he stole.

Shorter story! Petty thief to meathead bodybuilder, hope you enjoy this slightly more succinct story! -Occam

The coffee was in his sights. Liam just needs to wait for a moment when the mobile order counter was unattended andddd- There. He’s already out the door and headed down the street with enough caffeine to get him through his morning. I mean he’s not proud of his little act of delinquency, but it’s not like anyone’s suffering right? The coffee shop has unlimited resources, they'll make whatever poor schmuck whose drink he just nabbed a new one. 

Speaking of, now that he’s home free it’s well time for the first sip. Liam briefly checks the name on the cup, Elijah. “Well Eli, cheers to you. Bottoms up-” Raising the steaming togo cup to his lips Liam prepares for the ritual first burning sip. Not checking the label as he wants to be surprised by whatever hides underneath the lid. As soon as the drink touches his tongue it is revealed to be quite the unpleasant one as he rears back from the scalding drink and grimaces.

Totally unrelated from the boiling heat, the taste was the single most bitter thing he’s ever experienced before in his life. Sticking his burned tongue out before whispering a complaint he checks the label, “Jesus Christ dude!? What the fuck did your order?” Taking no time to analyze his criticism of a man who is by all intents his victim, his eyes grow wide as he sees the drink is a Black Dead Eye, that is drip coffee with three shots. 

He feels his heart flutter as he thinks about the amount of caffeine he now holds in his hand and plans how he is going to ration it out so he doesn’t completely overload himself. His mind briefly tries to picture the type of man to order this, though before a clear thought could be produced he shrugs and takes another sip. Could’ve at least had some syrup in there guy. Still taking a strained sip, an idea unfamiliar fills his mind, ‘psh as if I’m gonna drink some empty calories to start my day.’ 

Eliam’s eye twitches as he scrunches his face, presumably from the bitterness and grunts, “ugh, I hate-” Feeling a frog in his throat he clears it a few times in short succession. “Man, this drink sucks.” His brow immediately furrows as he hears his voice almost sounds deeper to his ears? Eliam eyes the drink for half a second before shrugging and assuming he must be coming down with a cold. Something within his subconscious questions how that will affect his time at work? No, not work, something else. Something close though, his arm rises in a right angle and he tilts his head as the thin limb tries to flex, immediately confused as to why he just did that, after a pause he reconsiders. Why does his bicep look so puny?

Uncomfortable with his bicep barely manipulating the sleeve of his shirt he considers, “Maybe I should start hitting up the gym?” Eliam scratches at his chest and frowns as he feels truly no muscle definition hiding under his T-shirt. His head buzzes with foreign emotion and instinct as the general apathy he has for his body and appearance is rapidly being replaced with disdain nearing disgust. He grunts and keels over as static, burning pins and needles, begins to overwhelm his senses. In the process he nearly spills his coffee which hits him with far more anxiety than losing a drink you didn't even pay for should.

His mouth is cold and dry as he stares at his nearly lost midnight dark drink and, even greater than the bizarre numbness and strange sensations contorting his body, he feels an urge, a need, to drink. Lips puckering as they strain to get closer to the cup as he brings it to his mouth, his legs give out and he falls back against a shop window. Passersby sneer at him as doggedly sits on the sidewalk and raises the cup completely upside down and lets it pour into his wanting mouth. His throat struggles to keep up as something besides himself, something with a will stronger than his own, forces him to down the burning drink in one go.

Mission accomplished, he gasps for air and wipes the few drops of coffee that landed outside of his mouth off his face before sucking them off his stained finger. When a businessman looks down at him with an eyebrow raised Eliamh feels a burning in his chest at the challenge. His jaw clenches and every muscle burns with the desire to show the pen pusher what’s up, dude doesn’t even know what the grind is! Eliamh’s eye twitches and he clenches at his gut as for the first time in his life it seems to be straining his intentionally baggy shirt.

The pettiest thief struggles to stand, using the wall for support as his legs suddenly struggle to carry his body. All the while making embarrassing grunts. He begins burping loudly as his stomach tries to get him to reject the drink in the only way it can. He feels more bloated with every labored breath and heavy movement, his midriff now exposes his thin treasure trail as his arms begin to fill the sleeves of his wrinkled button up. In between burps and groans he just gets out in his now decidedly duller voice, “Whuh- what was in that cup-” 

Usually happy to hide, Eliamh feels a rising need to challenge every man in sight, realizing something is beginning to overwrite his usual instincts, his rational ideas. As his pants begin to strain, thighs and ass bulging larger, Eliamh realizes that no matter his new desire to post up he needs to wait out whatever, uh, food poisoning this is. Stumbling into the storefront he’s thus far used as a stabilizer he groans out to the clerk, hand covering his mouth as he tries to hold back a loud burp, “Burmgh- I, ugh. Need yer restroom, dude.” Mouth curling into a frown at the clearly unwell man the cashier just points to the room at the back and Eliamh quickly stumbles through the door and locks it behind him.

Panting, Eliamh falls to the floor. Sweating through his clothes he leaves a trail on the door as he slides against it. Unconcerned with the filth of being on a bathroom floor his mind screams as his body begins to expand in every direction. Fabric tears as his bloated gut redistributes itself across his whole form. His arms that only recently bulged with any weight at all suddenly rip entirely through his shirt. Veiny biceps tear through, bursting larger than his thighs before his forearms race to match. His hands grow rough with callouses as he tears at his clothes as they begin to suffocate him.

Elijam’s shoulders pecs are initially inhibited by the clothes barely hanging in there. As soon as they give way and his torso is freed to the air do they begin their transformation outright. Drool pouring from his mouth as his mind flitters between the horror of becoming something anathema to himself while at the same time rapidly recognizing the arms as the powerful weapons he has honed for years now. Initially absent, the muscle on his chest pointedly makes up for the years spent abandoned. Pumping larger as his lungs expands and his chest widens to match shoulders that thicken to be shoulderpads, his pecs begin to become unseemly. Weighty enough that his current legs could never support them, his pecs surge to a size where the idea that he could ever be anything but a diligent bodybuilder is foolish.

His rougher hands trail down his sweaty, impossibly large chest and find that there are now swaths of his body where his bulging biceps and dense pecs collide that he simply can no longer touch. Moving down to feel abs as they push themselves out of his lower torso like cobblestones, his grunts and burps turn to deep moans as he bathes in the pleasure of becoming Elijah. Finally reaching low enough to free his package as it begins to fill his constricting pants, Elijah palms his balls as they begin to fill his body with hormones that make his boorish mindset make far more sense. 

Outside in the store the clerk contemplates calling the authorities as the deep moans echoing from the bathroom begin to scare off customers. Back in the restroom the bodybuilders thighs expand to truly the size of tree trunks as they lengthen along the cold tile. Immediately do they tear his pants as it becomes clear that he’ll never take a step without his massive legs rubbing against each other. It’s a wonder his package has any room at all to be as large as it is given the real estate taken up by his massive lower body. In no time at all the sweaty behemoth finds himself filling the small room with his musk which only heightens his heady delight.

His eyes cross as the few shreds of Liam that remained ingrained in his psyche through it all begin to give up the ghost. His balls pulse as the paltry aspects drain from his mind and every inch of him fully shifts to that of Elijah. Memories of countless hours spent underneath the bench press bar, tracking protein consumption, comparing his form with other massive titans. At the very same moment do loads begin to fly. Shooting high enough to grace the ceiling, his spunk stains the wall behind him like splatters on a canvas. His impossible changes took less than a minute but in his ecstasy he feels each and every one of Elijah’s memories soar to fill his mind.

Stumbling to his thick soled feet Elijah scratches his head as he tries to think how he’ll leave this store with nothing to cover his titanic form. The cogs of his mind turn slow enough that it seems like he can barely produce a thought at all. He grabs toilet paper to start to clean the mess made, but only ends up smearing it against the walls. Suddenly he laughs a dull guffaw as he remembers he lives nearby, just needs to run through the store and he’s home free. He’s sure the customers won’t mind seeing him in the buff, he thinks as he smirks at his peaking bicep. 

His cock stirs again as he wonders when he got this pump in. Knowing he doesn’t have time for another session right now he covers his impressive package with his torn clothes and sprints through the lobby, the clerk doesn’t have time to finish his name before he’s exited the storefront and begun to sprint homewards. Pushing through any man who doesn’t quite move out of the way in time, Elijah hits himself in the head as he realizes he needs to apologize to his bro for stealing his coffee this morning. Just as soon does the thought fade with another slow witted guffaw. He’s sure Elijah won’t mind, he’d probably do the same even. After all, they’ve got a lot in common.

[ktownshizzle]

Masterlist

My name is K and this is the byproduct of my Min Yoongi and Bangtan Sonyeondan brainrot.

Please remember all stories herein are purely fiction. I do not claim to know BTS irl. I put warnings in every chapter. Please be guided by them, so you can have an enjoyable reading experience. I do not have an upload schedule. I will turn on my requests soon, but for now please enjoy my ongoing and completed stories below.

About Me | WIP update | Buy me a ko-fi

Join my permanent taglist

Requests are closed as of 11/08

Minors DNI

Wild & Free

Status: Completed

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you. Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Terms & Conditions

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Teaser | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to? Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Love & Lullabies

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 Teaser | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.) Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (tbd), idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Friends & Fools

Status: Completed

Click here

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit? Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, best friends & roommates to lovers

A Christmas Encore {Holiday Fic}

Status: Completed

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it. When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again? Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

Let Me Love You {Song fic Drabble}

Status: Pending

Click here for the Preview

Sweet & Spicy

Status: Completed

Read here

Summary: Turns out some cravings are just so hard to ignore. Genre: Fluffy fluff, idol!au, strangers to ?, Reader is ARMY

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Banners by the uber talented @glossdebut

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent. 

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight. 

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs. 

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 

It makes you realize how much you missed. 

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest. 

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead. 

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 

He returns to the space between your thighs. 

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

[kaiyunsim]

spin me around —

pairing : bf!taesan x m!reader

summary : taesan invites you to go shopping with him and you guys get matching outfits :]

warnings : established relationship, fluff, crack, banter, featuring jaehyun + woonhak as roommates.

a/n : god... taesan has got me in a chokehold now :o also as of making this taesan is no longer roommates with woonhak and jaehyun and that makes me sad.

queueing : spin me around - the marias, still into you - paramore,

[requested]

— wc : 1.7— not proof read —

you don’t think too much of it when taesan texts you, asking if you want to go shopping with him today. it’s not the first time you’ve gone out together, though it is the first time he’s the one offering. usually, you’re the one convincing him to go out, pulling him away from his guitar or whatever new band he’s fixated on that week.

but today, he asks first.

which means you say yes, obviously.

you stand outside his dorm, shifting on your feet as you wait. when the door finally opens, it’s not taesan... it’s jaehyun. he leans against the doorway, a smirk already in place like he was expecting this.

"well, look who it is," he drawls, arms crossed. "taesan’s boyfriend."

you roll your eyes, used to his antics. "is he ready?"

"oh, he’s ready, alright," jaehyun says, stepping aside so you can see inside.

taesan is sitting on the couch, pretending he doesn’t hear anything, but the tips of his ears are red. woonhak, who’s sitting beside him, nudges him not-so-subtly.

"you sure you’re going out?" woonhak teases. "you never take anyone shopping. not even us."

"shut up," taesan mutters, standing up and brushing invisible dust off his jeans. he looks effortlessly cool, as always. baggy black ripped jeans, a vintage band tee, silver jewelry catching the light. "we’re leaving."

jaehyun grins. "aww, look at him. he’s flustered."

"i’m not flustered," taesan says, clearly flustered.

woonhak elbows him. "make sure to buy your boyfriend something nice."

taesan glares at him before grabbing your wrist and dragging you out, his grip warm but firm. you hear jaehyun and woonhak laughing as the door shuts behind you.

"ignore them," he mutters, still not meeting your eyes.

"i don’t mind," you say, smiling. "they’re not wrong, though. you never ask me to go shopping with you."

taesan exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah, well… i thought it’d be nice. that’s all."

you don’t push him on it, even though your heart flutters a little. instead, you just squeeze his hand and let him lead the way.

the mall is buzzing with life, neon lights reflecting off polished floors, the air filled with the scent of food from the nearby food court. taesan walks beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

"so what are we looking for?" you ask, peeking at him.

he shrugs. "clothes. maybe some accessories."

"you planning on getting anything specific?"

he hesitates for a moment before glancing at you. "i was thinking… maybe you could get something too."

"me?"

"yeah." he looks away, pretending to be interested in a store display. "something that matches me."

you blink, processing his words.

taesan, who has always been particular about his aesthetic, wants you to match him?

you try to hold back a grin. "so you want us to match?"

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. "don’t make it weird."

"it’s not weird. it’s cute."

"oh my god..."

you laugh, bumping your shoulder against his. "alright, let’s find something."

the first store you step into is one of those alternative fashion boutiques, dim lighting and rock music playing overhead. taesan immediately seems more at home here, flipping through racks of clothing with ease.

you, on the other hand, are a little less familiar with his style. you like how he dresses, obviously, he looks good in everything... but pulling off the same look yourself is a different story.

taesan seems to notice because he pulls out a black graphic tee and holds it up to your chest. "this would look good on you."

"you think so?"

"yeah. here, try this too." he grabs a silver chain necklace, placing it over your palm. "and maybe these rings."

you watch as he gathers more items, fully invested in styling you. it’s endearing, really, seeing him this focused. eventually, he shoves a pile of clothes into your arms and nods towards the fitting rooms.

"try them on."

"yes, sir." you salute playfully before slipping into the fitting room.

as you change, you realize how much this actually means to him. taesan isn’t the type to do things half-heartedly. if he wants you to match his style, it’s because he wants you to be part of his world in some way.

when you step out, taesan is leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. he looks up, and for a moment, he just… stares.

"…well?" you prompt.

he blinks, clears his throat, and looks away. "it’s good."

"just good?"

"great. it’s great." he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "you should get it..."

you grin. "you’re so bad at hiding your feelings, you know that?"

"shut up."

but when you catch his reflection in the mirror, you see the small smile playing on his lips.

after picking out a few more pieces (including a matching leather jacket that taesan insists isn’t couple wear, even though it totally is), you both head to the register.

as the cashier rings up your items, taesan pulls out his wallet.

"i got it," he says before you can protest.

"taesan—"

"just let me." he doesn’t look at you, focused on tapping his card against the machine. "i want to."

your heart does that stupid fluttering thing again. you don’t argue. instead, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers.

"thanks," you say softly.

he squeezes your hand in response.

after taesan pays for your clothes, you don’t let go of his hand. instead, you tug him toward another store, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"where are we going?" he asks, though he doesn’t resist.

"you got to dress me up in your style," you say, stopping in front of a streetwear boutique, the kind with oversized hoodies, cargo pants, and chunky sneakers displayed in the windows. "now it’s my turn."

taesan looks at the store, then at you, eyes narrowing slightly. "no."

"yes."

"absolutely not."

"taesan," you say, giving him your best pleading look. "come on, it’s only fair."

he exhales through his nose, like he’s already regretting every decision leading up to this moment. "i don’t wear streetwear."

"it’s not that different from your usual style," you argue. "it’s just… a little less emo, a little more cool boyfriend energy."

"i already have cool boyfriend energy."

"let me prove you could have more."

he glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it. after a long pause, he mutters, "fine. one outfit."

you grin, dragging him inside before he can change his mind.

picking out clothes for taesan is fun—mostly because he’s so reluctant about it.

"try this," you say, handing him a beige oversized hoodie.

he stares at it like it personally offended him. "why is it this color?"

"neutral tones are in."

"i wear black."

"expand your horizons."

taesan groans but takes it anyway. you pile on more, cargo pants, a crossbody bag, sneakers that aren’t his usual beat-up converse. by the time you’re done, he’s looking at the fitting room like it’s a death sentence.

"i hate you," he says before stepping inside.

"you love me," you call back.

when he finally steps out, you can’t help but stare.

the oversized hoodie drapes over him perfectly, the cargo pants fitting just right. the streetwear aesthetic somehow works on him, making him look effortlessly stylish but in a different way than usual.

"see?" you say, grinning. "you look good."

taesan folds his arms. "i feel weird."

"you look hot." you say, holding back the urge to fully make out with him right then and there.

his ears turn pink. "shut up."

"no, seriously, you could wear this all the time and no one would question it." you approach him, admiring your work. "just imagine, us walking around in our matching outfits. everyone would be jealous."

"you’re insufferable," he mumbles, but you can see the way his lips twitch, like he’s trying not to smile.

"so… are you gonna get it?"

he hesitates, looking at himself in the mirror.

and then, to your surprise, he sighs. "yeah, whatever."

your jaw drops. "wait, really?"

he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "you like it, right?"

you smirk playfully. "no..."

taesan stands there, stunned, "what? then why-"

"i absolutely love it"

before you can say anything else, he grabs the clothes and heads toward the register, leaving you standing there, absolutely smitten.

the sun is starting to set by the time you leave the mall, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink. taesan carries the shopping bag in one hand, his other still holding yours.

"so," you say, swinging your intertwined hands slightly, "was this a date?"

he scoffs. "obviously."

"oh? so you’re saying you planned this because you wanted to spend time with me?"

"i mean, yeah?" he glances at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "why else?"

you grin. "just making sure."

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of your hand.

when you get back to his dorm, jaehyun and woonhak are waiting.

"back already?" jaehyun muses.

woonhak eyes your bags. "did you guys get matching clothes?"

taesan doesn’t answer, but his grip on the shopping bag tightens.

jaehyun smirks. "oh my god, you did."

woonhak gasps dramatically. "that’s so cute."

"shut up." taesan pushes past them, dragging you with him into his room. before he closes the door, you hear jaehyun laughing.

"taesan, you’re so whipped!"

taesan groans, pressing his forehead against the door. "i hate them."

"you don’t."

"i do."

you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist. "well, i like them. they make you flustered, which is adorable."

he sighs, leaning into your touch. "you’re lucky i like you."

"i know," you tease, resting your chin on his shoulder.

he turns his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

"but don’t push it."

you just smile, holding him a little tighter.

just as you’re basking in the warmth of taesan’s arms, the door suddenly swings open.

"alright, lovebirds, break it up—"

jaehyun’s voice cuts off as he takes in the scene: you wrapped around taesan, his head resting lightly against yours. taesan barely has time to react before woonhak appears behind jaehyun, eyes widening.

"oh my god," woonhak breathes, pointing accusingly. "you guys are so gross."

taesan tenses immediately. "get out."

"no way," jaehyun grins, crossing his arms. "not before we see you in those matching outfits."

taesan scowls. "not happening."

woonhak gasps dramatically. "but taesan, you spent all that money. what a waste."

jaehyun nods sagely. "yeah, what a shame. if only there were some way to make sure the outfits were worth it. like, i don’t know… wearing them right now?"

taesan looks like he’s considering murder. you, on the other hand, are having the time of your life.

"you know what?" you say, squeezing taesan’s waist. "they’re right."

"don’t encourage them," taesan groans.

"too late!" woonhak cheers, already pushing the door open wider. "put it on, hyung. let us bask in the couple aesthetic."

"i will actually throw you both out," taesan warns.

"so violent," jaehyun sighs. "is this what love does to a man?"

woonhak shakes his head, looking at you sympathetically. "you deserve better."

you snort. "nah, i think i’ll keep him."

taesan groans even louder, but at this point, he knows he’s lost.

"fine," he mutters. "but if i do this, you two are never speaking of it again."

jaehyun and woonhak exchange looks.

"no promises," they say in unison.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hiii can i request something like this mingyu's story, so basically a oneshot maybe longer oneshot 🛐🛐🛐 so yeah they meet again maybe mingyu recognize her but she doesn't recognized him until mingyu told her so yeah and the story continues HAHAHAHA

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QD4gYn/

Childhood Love | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the café as Y/N walked in, her fingers brushing against the strap of her bag. It had been a long day, and she needed a moment to relax. She ordered her usual latte and scanned the room for an empty table.

At the corner of the café, Kim Mingyu froze mid-sip of his Americano. His eyes widened as he watched her. It had been over a decade, but he would recognize her anywhere. The confident posture, the thoughtful way she glanced around it was all the same.

“Y/N…” he whispered to himself, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips.

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Life had moved on, and so had he debuting with Seventeen, countless schedules, and fame that had taken him far from the quiet town where they’d first met. But there she was, the girl who had stolen his nine-year-old heart without even knowing it.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to approach her at first. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she wouldn’t remember him. But as fate would have it, Y/N ended up taking a seat just a table away from his.

“Mingyu, don’t overthink it,” he muttered under his breath, taking another sip of his coffee for courage.

He finally stood up and walked over, clearing his throat softly. “Excuse me, but… is your name Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, that’s me. Have we met before?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. It’s been a long time. I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. We were in the same class in elementary school.”

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to place him. “Kim Mingyu… Wait, were you the tall kid who always forgot his homework?”

He laughed, a deep, familiar sound that tugged at something in her memory. “Guilty. And you were the class president who always reminded me to turn it in.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh my God, Mingyu! I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” he said with a grin, taking a seat across from her without asking. “It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, still processing the sudden reunion. “It has. I think the last time I saw you was… when I transferred schools? I was, what, nine?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said softly. “You just disappeared one day. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a wave of nostalgia settling between them. Y/N smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. It all happened so quickly. My parents decided to move, and before I knew it, I was in a new school.”

“I figured as much,” Mingyu said. “But I always wondered how you were doing.”

Over the next hour, they caught up, sharing stories of what had happened since those childhood days. Y/N talked about her career, her hobbies, and how much she missed the simpler days of childhood. Mingyu, on the other hand, hesitated to bring up his fame.

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Mingyu shifted in his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well… I’m in a group. A K-pop group, actually. Seventeen.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait, the Seventeen? You’re kidding.”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s me. I guess I grew up a bit from the kid who couldn’t even remember his homework.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

“You didn’t recognize me because I don’t look like the nine-year-old kid you used to boss around,” Mingyu teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She laughed, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through him. He had missed this missed her.

As the conversation continued, Mingyu found himself unable to hold back any longer. There was something he had to say, something he had carried with him for years.

“Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said, leaning in slightly.

“When we were kids… I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks. “You did?”

He nodded, his smile turning a bit shy. “Yeah. You were always so smart and confident. You didn’t even notice me half the time, but I thought you were amazing.”

Y/N blinked, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. “I had no idea.”

“I figured,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “You were focused on being the perfect class president. And then you left, and I never got the chance to tell you. But now that you’re here… I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Y/N smiled warmly, her gaze softening. “Mingyu, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry I was too busy being bossy to notice back then.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said, though his heart raced as he looked at her. “But maybe… we could make up for lost time now?”

Her smile widened, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they left the café together, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like fate had given him a second chance. The childhood crush he thought he’d lost forever was now walking beside him, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

————————————————————————————-

[flowerandblood]

The Song of Promises (Sneak Peek)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ a little preview of the story that awaits you in February; it doesn't end my hiatus, but I'm in the process of writing and I see a little light at the end of the tunnel ]

[ description: Aemond's childhood is filled with loneliness and regret until Daemon arrives in the Red Keep with his first-born child, daughter of Rhea Royce. The fact that neither of them has a dragon of their own binds them together with a thread of understanding, and their slowly developing relationship gives birth in the young prince's mind to a plan of which she is a part. Slow burn, childhood companions to lovers, first intimacy, rude, insolent, arrogant Aemond with big ego. ]

_____

[...]

Just as she had done in their childhood days, to leave her rooms now she had to wait for the watch to change; only then would she slip out and take advantage of the moment to make her way down a dark, rarely used corridor through a side entrance to the prince's quarters.

She had no idea if anyone but her knew about it; presumably if they did, the guards thought the additional door remained locked. However, her cousin had left them open for her, and it was through these that she entered, stepping into his chamber, enveloped in the warm light of the fire.

She spotted his silhouette at once – he was sitting at the top of a long table, on which lay stacks of maps and letters, a thick, old volume in his hands.

When he heard her footsteps, he lifted a glance of his healthy eye to her, and then returned to his reading again, carelessly turning the page over.

She was not bothered by this; he was often in the habit of pretending not to see her at first. From her perspective, it was his attempt to cope with the fact that, although accustomed to solitude, he was hosting someone else in his private quarters.

She untied her cloak, placed it on one of the richly decorated oak chairs and, wearing nothing but her nightgown, took a slow, quiet step towards his bed. She knew she could do it, and that she was certain to stay with him anyway, so she simply lay back on the soft sheet and closed her eyes, listening to the pleasant sound of the sizzling fire.

For a moment, all she could hear was that and the rustle of pages being turned – the smell of him and the parchments pleasantly filled her nose, calming her.

The quiet creak of wood woke her from her half-sleep and she shuddered, opening her sleepy eyes – she spotted his silhouette heading lazily towards her. His hand rose to the belt of his tunic, undoing it with the quiet click of a buckle.

“Tomorrow. You must promise to obey me. Otherwise I will not fly with you.” He said calmly, looking at her with an expression on his face that pretended to show indifference.

“I will.” She said.

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath, finally pulling the leather material off his shoulders.

She made room for him and moved sideways on the bed as he sat on the edge of it and leaned over, pulling his boots off his feet. She watched wordlessly as he did the same a moment later with his eye patch, finally throwing it carelessly onto the stone floor. He sighed and hid his face in his hand, massaging the area around his scarred eye socket in some subconscious reflex.

Stress was causing discomfort to return to the left side of his face.

“You are in pain.” She whispered softly, raising herself up on her elbow.

He didn't reply, just swallowed hard and froze in stillness.

“Let me.” She insisted, and he finally looked at her and nodded.

She raised herself up on her knees and moved towards him, sitting down so that she could see his face. He looked at her silently with some kind of melancholy as her hands gently grasped his face and her thumbs began to massage his temples.

He immediately closed his eye and flinched as her thumbs moved over his brow arches and cheekbones – he twitched when she did it the first time, but relaxed more and more with each subsequent stroke, and his face took on an expression of relief.

“I wouldn't object if you did this to me all night.” He said quietly, his eyelid still closed. She smiled involuntarily at his words, running her fingers over his forehead, nose and cheeks, going back to the beginning – to his temples and brows.

“I can.” She said warmly, but he shook his head.

“We need to rest. Come. I want to sleep.”

[goldsainz]

# CS55 — UN BRINDIS POR LA NAVIDAD !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ carlos surprises you with a romantic christmas getaway to a family friend’s vineyard.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ drinking (kinda). mainly just fluff.

003. NOTE !

✯ and so it begins! i’m actually so excited for this and i hope you guys are too, i plan to be consistent with this so pls appreciate my commitment. i don’t plan for these to be long, for there to be second parts, just some cute christmas fluff and that’s it.

word count : 2,1k

The winter sun cast a golden glow over the vineyard on the outskirts of Madrid, the crisp air carrying the faint scent of pine and ripe grapes lingering from the last harvest. Carlos had been unusually secretive for weeks, dropping hints about a surprise. Now, as you stood at the entrance of a sprawling estate surrounded by rows of leafless vines dusted with frost, you realized just how much thought he’d put into this moment.

“Welcome to the vineyard,” he said, grinning as he opened the car door for you. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

A warm greeting from one of the Sainz family’s longtime friends set the start of your holiday getaway. The gentleman, a jovial man with an easy smile and a thick Castilian accent, waved you both in like family. “Ah, Carlos, it’s been far too long! And you,” he said, turning to you, “must be the reason he’s been glowing lately.”

Carlos blushed but didn’t deny it, instead taking your hand and squeezing it. “Come on, I want to show you everything,” he said, his excitement bubbling over.

The estate felt like stepping into a postcard of rustic elegance. The old stone bodega stood proudly at the center, its weathered façade draped with ivy and adorned with hand-carved wooden doors. Inside, the smell of aged oak barrels and fermenting wine filled the air. Barrels were stacked floor-to-ceiling, their dark wood polished smooth with time. Carlos ran his hand over one, explaining how his family had often come here to learn about the winemaking process.

“You can tell a lot about a vineyard by its barrels,” he said, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. “Each one has a story.”

Next, you moved to the tasting room, a cozy sanctuary with a roaring fireplace and walls lined with bottles of wine. Soft Spanish guitar music played in the background, blending seamlessly with the crackle of the fire. Carlos’s friend poured samples of the vineyard’s best offerings—crisp whites, bold reds, and a rosé that tasted like summer in a glass.

Carlos, ever the storyteller, was in his element. “I was probably seven the first time I came here,” he said, swirling a deep crimson wine in his glass. “I remember running through the vines, thinking they went on forever.”

He paused, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “And once, my nonna caught me trying to sneak a sip of wine. She didn’t yell—she just poured me the tiniest drop into a glass and said, ‘Taste it properly or not at all.’” He laughed at the memory, his eyes crinkling in the way that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the hours passed, you found yourself utterly immersed in the world of the vineyard. The family friend led you both through the cellar, and out to a terrace overlooking the countryside. The panoramic view was breathtaking: rows of vines fading into the horizon, hills dusted with snow, and the soft winter sun casting long shadows over the land.

Carlos stood close beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed out landmarks from his childhood. “See that little chapel on the hill? We used to race to the top. I always lost,” he admitted, laughing.

“Hard to imagine you losing a race,” you teased, earning a playful nudge.

The magic of the place wasn’t just in its beauty but in the way Carlos brought it to life with his stories. He wasn’t just showing you the vineyard; he was sharing a part of himself. The way he spoke about his childhood, his family, and the land made you see him in a new light—more grounded, more tender, and impossibly more captivating.

“Do you know what makes this place even better in winter?” Carlos asked, his voice teasing yet warm as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long golden shadows across the vineyard.

“What’s that?” You replied, curiosity lighting up your face.

“Rosquillas de vino,” he announced, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wine donuts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not just wine donuts,” he corrected, grinning. “The best wine donuts you’ll ever taste. And today, I’m going to teach you how to make them.”

Before you could protest—though you had no intention of doing so—he took your hand and led you into a charming little kitchen tucked away in the bodega. The space was as inviting as the rest of the estate, with wooden beams overhead, copper pots hanging from the walls, and a large farmhouse table set with everything you’d need: flour, sugar, olive oil, and, naturally, a bottle of the vineyard’s finest wine.

Carlos wasted no time, rolling up his sleeves with the confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times before. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “First, we mix the dry ingredients.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but it quickly became apparent that Carlos was in his element. His hands moved deftly, measuring and mixing with practiced ease. Meanwhile, you struggled to keep up, spilling flour on the table and accidentally adding too much sugar to your bowl.

“Hey, it’s not a competition,” Carlos teased, nudging you with his elbow as he began to knead the dough.

“Good thing,” you shot back, laughing. “You’d win by a mile.”

The banter continued as you both worked side by side. Carlos’ dough seemed to come together effortlessly, forming smooth, perfect rings that he laid neatly on a tray. Yours, on the other hand, looked more like abstract art.

He glanced over and tried to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? Because these… are unique.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully swiping a handful of flour and tossing it at him. It landed squarely on his shoulder, leaving a white streak on his dark sweater.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” he said, raising an eyebrow and scooping up his own handful of flour.

Before you could react, he dusted it lightly over your hair. You gasped in mock outrage, grabbing another handful, and within moments, a full-blown flour war broke out. Laughter echoed through the kitchen as flour flew in every direction, covering both of you in a fine white powder.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” you accused, giggling as he reached over and smudged a streak of flour across your cheek.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning. “But look how cute you are with flour on your face.”

Despite the chaos, the rosquillas made it into the oven. As they baked, filling the kitchen with a warm, sweet aroma, you both took a moment to catch your breath. The table was a disaster zone, and your clothes were beyond saving, but none of it mattered.

Carlos leaned against the counter, his hair dusted with flour and his smile softer now. “See? Told you this would make the place even better.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you brushed a bit of flour off his sleeve. “I don’t know if it’s the donuts or you, but I think you might be right.”

When the sweet treats were finally done, you pulled them out of the oven together, their golden edges glistening with a light dusting of sugar. Carlos took one, broke it in half, and handed you a piece.

“Moment of truth,” he said, watching as you took a bite.

The donut was warm, tender, and subtly sweet with the faintest hint of wine. It was perfect.  

“You’re a genius,” you said, savoring the flavor.  

“Don’t let my nonna hear you say that,” he replied, laughing. “She’d take all the credit.”  

The warmth of the rosquillas, the mess in the kitchen, and the way Carlos looked at you—it all felt incredibly perfect. In that moment, you realized that the donuts were more than just a treat; they were a memory, a piece of Carlos’s life that he was sharing with you. And you couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than that.

The magic of that moment lingered as night fell, casting the vineyard in twilight hues. Carlos took your hand, guiding you outside with a knowing smile. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine, frost, and the rich aroma of wine still clinging to the evening.  

What awaited outside took your breath away. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned the trees, their soft glow reflected in the freshly fallen snow. Under the largest tree stood a small table draped in linens, set with two glasses, a bottle of wine, and blankets invitingly draped over the chairs.  

“Carlos,” you whispered, touched by the magic he had created.  

He smiled, his eyes warm and reflecting the golden light around you. “I wanted tonight to be unforgettable,” he said softly, pulling you closer as the two of you approached the table.  

As you settled onto the blanket-draped bench, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. The glow of the lights, the stillness of the vineyard, and the presence of the man beside you created a serenity you hadn’t known you needed.  

“You know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “when I brought you here, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. This place means a lot to me, but I wanted it to mean something to us.”  

“It already does,” you replied, turning to meet his gaze. “Carlos, this is… it’s perfect. Every part of today.”  

His face softened, a mixture of relief and adoration. “Good. Because I’ve been planning this for months. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to let anything slip? My friends started betting on how long I’d last before ruining the surprise.”  

You laughed, imagining his determination—and struggle—to keep his plans a secret. “Well, I think you deserve all the praise for pulling this off. Today has been more perfect than I could have ever imagined.”  

Then, Carlos set his glass down and turned to you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “There’s one more thing I wanted to say,” he murmured, his voice steady but laced with emotion.  

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking again. “What is it?”  

He hesitated for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. Then, with a small smile playing on his lips, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box. The golden vineyard lights danced across the delicate wrapping. He held it out to you, his fingers brushing against yours as you took it.

“This isn’t what you might be thinking,” he began quickly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m not proposing—yet. But this,” he gestured to the box, “is a promise. A promise that wherever life takes us, you’ll always have a piece of me, just like I’ll always carry a piece of you.”  

Your heart raced as you opened the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace nestled inside. The pendant, shaped like a tiny vine leaf, was intricate, it's fine details capturing the beauty of the vineyard that surrounded you. It glinted in the soft light, shinier than the stars and the moon.

Your breath caught, emotion welling up as you took the necklace from his hands. “Carlos…” you whispered, your voice trembling.  

He clasped it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I want this to be the beginning of something. Not just for tonight, but for every Christmas, every memory, every part of our story.”  

Tears filled your eyes as you touched the pendant, feeling the intricate details. “It’s beautiful.” you said, smiling through the tears.  

Carlos cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears. “I love you,” he said simply, the weight of the words wrapping around you like a blanket.  

“I love you too,” you replied, leaning into his touch as his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss that carried every promise his words had left unsaid.  

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. As you sat together under the lights, the rosquillas, the wine, the necklace, and the man beside you made the night feel infinite.  

Raising your glasses, you toasted to the moment.  

“To many more Christmases like this,” you said, your voice filled with hope and love.  

“And to us,” Carlos added, his eyes never leaving yours.  

The clink of your glasses echoed softly through the still night, a sound that would forever remind you of the Christmas when forever began.

[dalamjisung]

the escape plan ❋ hwang hyunjin

word count: 3528

genre: fluff

pairing: reader x hwang hyunjin

description: you love working as a barista just because you love people watching. in this case, you end up watching hyunjin and his failed date. this is the one where you and hyunjin learn that the escape plan should've been plan A to begin with.

part of Summertime’s Special Collab with @catiuskaa | series masterlist here

It’s the way he smiles that makes chuckle from behind the counter. 

The bar is full today, but then again, it’s full most nights. During the week, you mostly see older couples, and it fills your heart with warmth to imagine a life in which you get to grow old with someone next to you. But then you mind the bar and the older creeps flock in and, suddenly, celibacy is looking pretty good. The weekend is when the youngsters, like you, flock in. 

Seeing people your age on dates is quite funny. It reminds you of why you used to like dates so much and, at the same time, hate them so much. You kind of miss it, the whole excitement of having a crush and getting ready for a date. It’s the silly dances and the makeup process and the singing with a hairbrush that makes you softer for those moments past. But you just don’t have time for that anymore, not with work getting busier by the second. For a minute, you wonder if tourist season came a couple of weeks early, judging by the new faces you see coming around… his included. 

To be fair, you think every single bartender in that place stopped what they were doing to watch him walk in. He is definitely someone you will all gossip about in the back room, and from how your co-worker keeps elbowing you every time he moves, you know she’s going to be your main source of entertainment during closing time. “Oh my god, Y/N, just look at him,” She groans, putting the cup she’s washing down in favour of leaning forward over the counter, as if she can just touch him like that. “He’s so handsome… why can’t it be me on that date?”

“Oh, I don’t think you want to be on that date,” You laugh, raising your brows while getting their drinks ready. He looks soft, gentle; kind enough to sit through what is visibly one of the worst dates you’ve seen during your shifts so far. “That smile is so fake I’m afraid it might get stuck.” 

“How do you know? It might be the best! With a guy like him, I’m sure it will be the best…”

“For her, sure,” Putting the drinks on a tray and getting out from behind the counter, you get ready to go deliver them. Their table is in your section, and if you’re honest, a little snooping never hurt anyone. “But him? Girl, he’s leaning away from her! He’s basically wincing! Don’t be so superficial– just cause he’s pretty doesn’t mean that’s all he cares about!” 

“Go find me some gossip!” She whispers with a wink and basically pushes you off. 

Being a bartender isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life. The thought of figuring the rest of your life out, though, makes you shiver in horror. You don’t really see a point in planning the future if that means you can’t really live in the present, and so for now, for this moment, this you, this time, you love your job. You love interacting with people, you love listening to stories through the counter, you love when people ask you to make a drink you think they’ll like. Deep down, you know you won’t stay there forever, but that’s just not something you’re ready to face yet. 

“Excuse me,” You announce yourself quietly, approaching from the side so you don’t accidentally spill anything on them. 

There is an order to serving tables– first the napkins, then the cups, then a gentle smile and a small bow before walking away. Despite your words, the goal is to be a ghost, almost like the cups appeared there without a presence looming over the guests. But you move slowly, you’re gracious, polite, and definitely curious. 

“…and then like, they fired me!” Her voice is almost squeaky.“Because I told them I wouldn’t take a meeting from the hairdresser!” 

“But… it was during your work hours…” 

This is the first time you hear his voice and it shocks you. It’s lower than you expected and oh so quiet, like he regrets saying the words even before he says them. You cough a little, hiding the laughter bubbling in the back of your throat. And he must have heard you because he immediately glances up, eyes meeting yours and it’s almost like, when he notices your pursed lips, it unlocks something in him that makes his lips purse too. The speed in which you both look away is comical, but now you know he knows. The bridge between you two has been shattered and now, it’s like you can’t keep crossing. 

“Yeah, but they still should respect my personal boundaries, you know?” This is the moment she looks up at you, eyes lingering a little too long as if she’s questioning why you’re still there. “Anyways, should we get some food? Could you bring us the menu?” 

“Of course, I’ll be right back.” It takes you a minute to grab the menu and return. “Here you go, ma’am, what can I get for you?” 

She rattles off some random items and you make sure to memorise them before turning to him. “And you, sir? What can I get you?” 

“Oh don’t bother, he’ll be sharing what I’ve ordered.”

When she says this, you’re still turned to him and he’s looking right at you, and both your eyes go wide. “Could you please show me where the bathroom is?” He asks instead, and you nod while he gets up and tells his date “I’ll be right back.”

The restrooms are on the upper section of the bar, and you take him upstairs with a stupid smile on your face. He looks like he’s around your age and the long, tired sigh you hear coming from behind you is the last draw– you start laughing out loud, only looking back at him when you get to the top of the stairs. He looks like he’s amused at your reaction yet tortured because of his reality. 

“You’re laughing because it’s not you sitting across from her!” He gasps, head falling in his hands dramatically. “I don’t even need the bathroom, I just need to get out of there!”

Giggling, you nod. “It does seem like it’s not going well.”

“Oh god, even you guys noticed?!”

“To be fair to you, we see dates going all kinds of ways here, so it’s a part of the job.”

For a second, he falls silent, eyes stuck on yours like he’s trying to speak directly into your soul. “I need an escape plan,” He mumbled, head cocking to the side. “And you might just be it.”

“Sorry?” Your eyes go wide at his suggestion. “I can’t– I mean, you can just tell her, no? Just–“

“Oh come on, you’ve seen dates going all kinds of ways and you think I can just tell her?! Are you crazy?! I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t throw a drink on my face!”

“Why did you even ask her on a date? Poor girl thinks she has a really handsome guy into her and you’re planning an escape,” You asked, looking around to make sure no one is listening to your conversation. The last thing you need is a snoopy client deciding to interfere and tell the girl themselves. You’ve seen it happen and you were the one having to separate the fight. 

“I didn’t!” Whining, he stomps her foot on the ground like a child and your brows shoot up in curiosity. “My friend set me up because I haven’t really been going out lately, and it’s not like I was desperate, you know? I was just… busy! But he set me up regardless and he said he met her at a party because she’s his friend’s cousin’s best friend or something like that and I thought ‘how bad can this be?’ but as it turns out it can be really, really bad and I just want to go home and watch some TV with my dog!”

The way he is panting by the end of his rant has your heart squeezing out in sympathy for him. You’ve had had your fair share of bad dates, and it always feels more urgent than they actually are, but in the moment, while you pretend to be someone you’re not and smile at things you normally wouldn’t, all to appease someone you have no intention to see again, it’s a terrible sensation. Feels like getting lost, like you push yourself so far away that you worry if you’ll ever find your way back. And it made you feel guilty, knowing you were purposefully lying to someone who seemed to be having a good time, although by themselves. 

It’s not like you, to interfere and meddle, but he looks so upset with those plump, pouty lips that even you can’t resist it. “Fine,” You mumbled, straightening your back abruptly. “But you’re paying for her! Don’t be a dick! Just… Just follow my lead.”

“You are my saviour!” He cheered. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Hyunjin,” You smile, offering him a hand to shake. “I’m Y/N. Also known as your escape plan.” 

What follows next is a really intricate plan. He will go back. He will smile. He will listen to her and give her the attention he craves because as much as he seems to be hating this date, she isn’t and you are not to make her night the worst night of her life. While he does all that, you will grab the food she ordered and you will bring it to her. In your tray, a mysterious drink will sit dangerously by the edge and as you put the food down, the weight shift will destabilise your hand and suddenly Hyunjin will be covered in liquid. He will then be very upset about it, and order the bill, which he will pay in full. Then, he gets to go home should your plan work. 

“You’re a genius,” Hyunjin whispers before returning to his table, and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

All in all, you understand why the girl looks at him like how she does, you’re pretty sure anyone around him is looking at him like that– impressed and slightly intimidated. Hyunjin is a beautiful man– he is way past handsome, at this point, and you would describe him as beautiful. His lips are full and his eyes are sharp, and his laughter, even in misery, sounds like fine tuned music. For a second, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be the one sitting in front of him. He seems charming enough, from your brief interaction; would you have fun? Would he want to escape you, too, or would he stay? Shaking your head, you go back to the counter.

“Did I see you go upstairs with Mister Handsome or do my eyes deceive me?” Of course she was watching you. 

“Your eyes are right, but your mind deceives you,” Rolling your eyes, you can’t quite hide the slight blush tainting your cheeks at her insinuation. 

“You cannot seriously tell me you don’t think he’s cute,” She squinted, stepping closer to you with a teasing smile you ignore, you still have to load the tray and make a random drink. 

“I never said that,” You whisper, trying to keep the conversation private even though you two are in a very open space. “But I don’t know the guy. All I know is that he asked me to get him out of that date so… here I go.” 

Everything goes according to plan. Hyunjin is acting like a gentleman by the time you make it to his table, and the cup of the mysterious, too colourful concoction falls perfectly in his lap. You act the part, too, apologising repeatedly for the accident while pulling out tissues from thin air to try and help him dry off. “Sir, I am so, so sorry!” Maybe you are verging on overacting, but what do you know about that? You’re a bartender, not a Hollywood star. 

The fatal mistake, though, is when your eyes meet again. This time, you can’t help yourself and you snort, so loudly and unload like that it catches everyone by surprise. The tables around are either laughing or gasping and you can’t help the way your entire face goes red, actually embarrassed about this stupid, stupid plan. What were you even thinking when you agreed to this? “I–“ Even your hands shake, the nervousness of your sudden self-awareness getting the best of you with all those eyes burning your back. 

“It’s okay.” 

Somehow you hear him above the screeching screams of the poor girl sitting in front of him. “Y/N, it’s okay,” Hyunjin whispers, shaking his head with a hint of a smile that is not mocking nor cocky. His smile, all pretty and cute, is just as comforting as the little nod he sends your way, reaching towards the floor to pick up the tray with one hand and help you up with the other. It’s steady and large, his hands, and you can’t help but freeze a little when he touches your elbow, pushing you upwards with a smile. “There you go. Thank you, I’ll come to the counter to pay in a second.” 

That is not part of the plan, but you just nod, scurrying away as fast as you possibly can.

This feels weird. You’re not shy. Never have been, actually, which is what makes you so happy working with people; you crave the social interaction, love the conversations, smile at the compliments. It fuels you, knowing that, at some level, you’re making someone happy, even if just for a second when they get their food or their drink. It makes you feel happier, too. Well, usually it makes you feel happier too, but, now, there is nothing you want more than to disappear. “Y/N! Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” 

“Can you mind the bar for a few minutes?” You mumble, already making your way to the back door. “I just need a second.” 

The back room is every barista’s safe place. It’s where everyone goes when things are getting a bit too much and they need a second. Right now, you really need a second. You need to ground yourself again, remember that the present is good enough and there is no need to project the future, especially not a crazy fantastical version of it. Sitting down on a chair, you let your head fall in your hands, eyes closed as you just enjoy the quietude of it all. It’s easy, creating a whole scenario in your head, when a guy like Hyunjin is being so kind and gentle and funny. And it’s easy to forget the consequences, too, even if you can’t stop laughing at it. 

It’s the cringeness of it all that gets to you, the way you replay that scenario in your head again and again and you shiver and shudder at the memory of you trying to clean the purposeful mess you made while everyone around stared at you. Chuckling, you shake your head. “Y/N, you are a very silly person,” You mumble to yourself, getting up with a final deep breath. Your co-worker pops her head in the room before you can even take a step towards the door. 

“Hey, your table paid and left. You can come out now, the cute guy wasn’t angry.”

Somehow, that doesn’t make you feel any better to know he just… up and left. But you nod regardless, smiling weakly at her. “Thanks,” You mumble and then it’s right back to work. 

The rest of the night is uneventful. Boring, almost, and you can’t help but feel uncomfortable. Like you had just done something you were going to regret, like… like you had just been used as a means to an end. “I got it,” You grab the keys before your colleague can. “Go home. You did great tonight, I’ll close up.” 

At this point, you just feel like being alone. What started as a good day has quickly gone off the rails, and you don’t particularly regret anything, but you need some time to process everything that happened in the past few hours. And that’s okay– all you need is time, nothing else, nothing less.

Ironically, it seems like time is all you don’t have. 

“Y/N.”

You almost trip on your foot, mountain of cups in your arms about to go down had it not been for his reflexes, hands catching you at the very last minute. “Jesus Christ! Hyunjin! What are you doing here?!” It’s like he has some kind of weird power over you, face immediately on fire at the feel of his hands on your arms. 

“I came to thank you!” His hands go up in defence and you laugh. “You disappeared after the whole escape plan and I couldn’t thank you properly!”

“So you thought that sneaking in at almost three in the morning when I’m alone in an empty bar was the best way to thank me?” You whisper, eyes wide like a kid who’s afraid to get in trouble. You can’t stop the incredulous smile playing on your lips, though, and you snort a laughter out. “I just met you and this is kind of creepy…”

This time around, he’s the one that looks startled. “I’m not creepy!” He is so dramatic with his gasp and his hand over his heart. “I came here to say thank you and–“ Hyunjin pauses, face a bit blushed. “And you know, I owe you one. You were so nice to help out and you embarrassed yourself–“

“I wouldn’t say I embarrassed myself–“ You cut off quickly, face falling on your hands in a clear contradiction to your words.

“Y/N, don’t kid yourself, that was embarrassing,” Hyunjin snorted. The tension, the one that floated in the air for the first seconds of this interaction and the one on your shoulders whenever you thought about the burning sensation of people staring at you, is gone, and left behind is just this– the giggling, the stepping around each other, the getting to know more. You like this… and it feels too natural for something that looks so misplaced. This kind of interaction, this kind of back and forth, the joking and the banter– this is what makes a good first date, in your opinion. 

But this can’t be a date… right?

Y/N, stop daydreaming, you think to yourself. 

“But it was hilarious. And it was a favour,” He continues, finally taking one, then two steps towards you. “And I want to repay you.”

“You don’t have to–“

“I really want to,” He says, wincing a little at how desperate he sounds. “Okay, I see how I’m coming off as creepy. But! In my defence! I don’t know your number and I don’t know your schedule!”

You just raise your brows at him. 

“At this point there is no escaping my fate,” Hyunjin chuckles, but before he can say or do anything else, he looks at the counter. There are some cups, pens, and notepads you still have to put away. “May I?”

You just nod, eyeing him curiously. “What are you doing?” 

“This,” Hyunjin says, ripping a piece of paper he scribbled on and giving it to you. “Is my number. Text me tomorrow? I really want to pay you back…” 

“And how will you pay me back? Unfortunately, I don’t think there will be an opportunity for you to trip and spill a drink over me any time soon.”

“I mean, come out to get a drink with me and I’m sure I can arrange that.” 

You stutter, eyes wide when he just shrugs. “W-What?”

“Or a coffee!” He quickly says, nodding excitedly. “Anything. Dinner, lunch, coffee, drinks– whatever sounds less creepy right now, cause I’m really nervous I’m coming across like a stalker and I don’t want to scare you off or–“

“Or I might be the one needing an escape plan?” You joke, grabbing your phone from your pocket and typing in the number he has just given you. 

With quick fingers, you quickly send him a message: hey :) drinks sound good.

Hyunjin frowns at the buzzing coming from his phone at such an early hour. But the smile on his face when he reads your text is just breath-taking, and yes, maybe you’re being superficial, or maybe you’re not, but the way your heart picks up a little is not superficial at all.

“Drinks it is,” Hyunjin nods, trying to hide a smile. “I know just the place.”

“I swear to god if you say here I will–“

“Great service, great food– it makes sense!”

“Go home you creep.”

There is a pause before he turns around to leave. You can hear the smile in his voice when he calls your name. “And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a date.”

-----------------------------------------

Wohooooo Hyunjin's is out >.< I'm loving writing for this series!!! as always, make sure to go to @catiuskaa profile to go check out her incredible pieces for this series and her general masterlist!

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (lion's pride)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: her choice

- Next part: the eclipse of the alliance

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The Red Keep bustles with the arrival of House Lannister, their crimson and gold banners vivid against the stone walls as they make their way through the courtyard. The air is filled with the sounds of their retinue—servants unloading carriages, horses stamping and whinnying, guards and courtiers murmuring among themselves. At the front of the procession stands Lord Jason Lannister, resplendent in his House’s colors, his face set with a mixture of curiosity and surprise as he scans the familiar halls of the Keep.

When he finally spots Tyland waiting near the entrance, Jason’s eyes narrow with something between amusement and disbelief. Striding forward, he clasps his twin’s arm, a wry smile pulling at his lips.

“Well, well, brother,” Jason says, his voice a mixture of humor and astonishment. “You can imagine my surprise when a raven arrived with the King’s sigil, announcing that my twin is soon to marry a Targaryen princess.” He pauses, studying Tyland’s face with a knowing look. “Quite the leap from your usual… discretion.”

Tyland allows himself a faint smile, inclining his head in greeting. “It appears I’ve given you a story worth telling, then,” he replies smoothly, though there’s a glint in his eyes that hints at his own amusement. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“More than an explanation, Tyland,” Jason says, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “The entire family has been buzzing about it. You, silent as ever, suddenly engaged to the youngest Targaryen—without a single word of warning! Did you think we wouldn’t notice, or were you planning to keep it hidden until the wedding feast itself?”

Tyland chuckles softly, gesturing for Jason to follow as they step into a quieter alcove away from the throng of courtiers. “It was… an unexpected turn, even for me,” he admits, his tone more serious now. “But the choice was hers as much as mine. The King approved, and in time, the family will see the advantages of this union.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he regards Tyland with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “Advantages, indeed. Our House allied by marriage to the Crown, Tyland? A match like this would have been beyond any Lannister’s expectations, and yet you moved in silence.”

Tyland’s gaze remains steady, his voice calm. “Silence was necessary. The choice was not to be made in haste or under pressure from outside forces. The princess and I… we wished for the freedom to choose without the weight of expectation or interference.”

Jason watches him closely, his expression shifting from curiosity to something more thoughtful. “You care for her,” he says, the surprise in his tone now tempered with understanding. “This isn’t just a matter of alliance or ambition.”

Tyland inclines his head, his expression softening just slightly. “She is someone I respect deeply, Jason. Someone who values loyalty and trust as much as we do. I may not have spoken of it before, but the bond we share is… something that could not be ignored.”

Jason lets out a low chuckle, clapping Tyland on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll be damned. Tyland Lannister, swept off his feet by a Targaryen princess. I thought I’d seen it all.”

Tyland smirks, a hint of mischief in his gaze. “It seems I managed to surprise you, then. Perhaps that alone was worth keeping it a secret.”

Jason laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll admit, you’ve left me speechless. But Tyland, you must know—our family will expect a certain… presence, now that this match is public. Your bride is a Targaryen, after all. They’ll look to you to represent us in this union.”

Tyland nods, understanding the weight of his brother’s words. “I intend to honor that, Jason. But I also intend to honor her. Our union is not simply an opportunity for the family to push its interests. It’s a bond of respect, one I won’t allow to be diminished by those who only see the value in politics.”

Jason’s expression softens, a rare flicker of pride appearing in his gaze. “You’re doing well, Tyland. Better than any of us could have expected.” He pauses, his voice growing more serious. “But be wary. Not everyone at court will accept this match as eagerly as we do. Some see you as a rival, and this union may provoke resentment.”

Tyland’s eyes harden, his voice calm but resolute. “I am prepared for that, Jason. Those who oppose this match will find little support in House Lannister.” He pauses, meeting his brother’s gaze. “And I trust I have your support, brother.”

Jason smirks, a glint of pride mingling with his humor. “You have more than my support, Tyland. You have my admiration—for once, you’ve taken a bold step, and the family will see the strength in it soon enough.”

Tyland nods, a small, satisfied smile pulling at his lips. “Then let’s show them what it means to have a Lannister banner in the Red Keep. We’ve made our mark here, Jason, and this is only the beginning.”

With that, the two brothers share a look of understanding.

The grand dining hall of the Red Keep is resplendent with flickering candlelight, casting a amber glow over the feast laid out in honor of your upcoming marriage to Tyland. Silver goblets shimmer beside gilded plates, the tables adorned with the finest food and wine in a clear display of royal hospitality. Banners of House Targaryen and House Lannister hang proudly from the walls, intertwining the red dragon of your family with the golden lion of Tyland’s, a visual reminder of the powerful union soon to be sealed.

At the head of the table, King Viserys sits with a contented smile, watching his daughter—his youngest—sit proudly at Tyland’s side. He raises his goblet in a silent toast to the room, his gaze warm and proud as he looks at you, pleased to celebrate this new bond that will strengthen both House Targaryen and House Lannister.

Yet, even amid the merriment, not all expressions are so joyful. Queen Alicent, seated beside Viserys, wears a carefully composed smile, though her gaze flickers between you and Tyland with thinly veiled calculation. Her fingers twist absently around the stem of her goblet, her attention wavering as she observes the glances, touches, and quiet words exchanged between you and your betrothed.

At the other end of the table, Rhaenyra sits beside Laenor Velaryon, her expression one of amusement as she meets Alicent’s gaze, a subtle challenge gleaming in her eyes. She leans slightly toward Laenor, murmuring something that draws a faint chuckle from him, though her eyes never quite leave Alicent. 

As Viserys raises his goblet for a formal toast, he clears his throat, his voice carrying easily over the din. “To House Targaryen and House Lannister,” he declares, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction. “This union strengthens our realm, binding fire and gold together in loyalty and alliance.”

The room raises their goblets in response, voices echoing the King’s words, though some toasts are more fervent than others. The lords of the Westerlands, seated prominently among the guests, lift their glasses with enthusiasm, their eyes shining with satisfaction. Jason’s bannermen clearly see this union as a triumph, their presence at the feast a testament to their pride in the alliance.

One of the Lannister bannermen, Lord Lefford, leans across the table, raising his goblet to Tyland with a hearty laugh. “To Lord Tyland! Soon to be son-in-law by marriage to the Dragon King himself! The Westerlands couldn’t be prouder!”

Another Westerlands lord chimes in, his voice carrying over the hall. “This alliance will bring great strength to both Houses! Soon enough, House Lannister’s influence will be felt throughout the realm.”

A flicker of discomfort crosses Viserys’s face as he listens to their boisterous praise. It’s a subtle reminder that, in their eyes, this union is as much a victory for House Lannister as it is for House Targaryen. Viserys glances at Alicent, whose gaze remains fixed on you and Tyland, her expression unreadable but her thoughts undoubtedly sharp and calculating.

Across the table, Otto Hightower’s gaze narrows as he listens to the Westerlands lords, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. Despite his daughter being Queen, he can sense the subtle shift in power, the way these bannermen now see themselves as elevated by their lord’s marriage into the royal family—a union they consider a mark of status that rivals even Alicent’s own position.

Alicent’s gaze sharpens as her eyes dart back to Tyland. Her voice is light but carries a note of tension as she speaks. “I imagine Lord Tyland must feel proud indeed, knowing he is about to become part of such a storied family. I trust the traditions of Casterly Rock will blend seamlessly with those of House Targaryen?”

Tyland inclines his head, his response calm and poised. “It is an honor beyond measure, Your Grace, to join House Targaryen. And yes, I believe that respect, loyalty, and tradition are values both Houses hold dear. I intend to uphold those values in this union.”

Alicent’s eyes flicker with something close to skepticism as she watches him. “How fortunate, then, that you found common ground so easily.” She casts a glance toward you, a faint smile on her lips, though there’s something calculating in her gaze. “I do hope this transition into a new role here at court will be… comfortable for you, stepdaughter.”

Rhaenyra, sensing the undertone in Alicent’s words, lifts her goblet with a faint smirk. “My sister will find her place wherever she wishes to be, I’m sure,” she says, her voice smooth but pointed. “And Tyland’s loyalty will be as steadfast as his House’s wealth, I’ve no doubt.”

A flicker of irritation crosses Alicent’s face, though she quickly masks it, her gaze settling back on Viserys. “Of course,” she murmurs, a note of acquiescence in her tone.

The Westerlands lords, still boisterous and exuberant, continue their toasts, each one louder than the last. Lord Farman, his face flushed with wine, leans over to address Tyland directly. “A Targaryen bride and a Lannister husband! Soon enough, Casterly Rock and the Iron Throne will be bound by blood. It’s a wonder we didn’t think of it sooner.”

Viserys, catching the implication, forces a thin smile, though there’s a subtle stiffness in his voice. “Yes, it seems fate has blessed us with this union. Though let us remember that House Targaryen stands as strong as it ever has.”

Tyland, sensing the unease growing around the table, speaks up, his tone respectful but clear. “Indeed, Your Grace. My loyalty is first and foremost to you and House Targaryen. Our Houses are bound in alliance, but my duty lies here at court.”

Jason Lannister, seated nearby, raises his goblet to his brother with a grin, clearly enjoying the attention being lavished on House Lannister. “Well spoken, Tyland. And rest assured, our bannermen are loyal, as they always have been. We stand by you and by the Crown.”

Otto’s eyes narrow slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watches the exchange. It’s clear he feels the growing presence of the Lannisters keenly, and his gaze flicks to Alicent, whose expression has grown even more strained as the Westerlands lords continue to revel.

Rhaenyra leans over, whispering to you with a hint of a smirk, “It seems House Lannister has certainly seized this opportunity to remind everyone of their… importance.”

You stifle a laugh, casting her an amused glance. “Perhaps they needed little reminder. My betrothal has given them just the excuse they desired.”

Rhaenyra chuckles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Just wait until they start insisting on golden lion tapestries for the wedding hall. I’m sure Father will be thrilled.”

The atmosphere in the Great Hall continues to be lively, filled with laughter and conversation, when the double doors swing open to admit Daemon Targaryen. He strides in casually, an air of cool confidence surrounding him, but his eyes are sharp, his gaze unwavering as it fixes on a single spot—the place where you sit with Tyland.

His presence draws murmurs from the surrounding tables, a mixture of curiosity and dread following him like a shadow. Daemon is dressed in his usual dark attire, his silver hair falling loosely over his shoulders, and his expression is unreadable, but there’s a glint in his eyes that sends a ripple of unease through the hall.

As he approaches your table, Tyland meets his gaze steadily, his expression courteous yet guarded, aware of the unspoken weight Daemon carries with him. Daemon comes to a stop directly in front of you and Tyland, his mouth twisting into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Lord Tyland,” Daemon begins smoothly, his voice carrying a strange mixture of amusement and something darker. “I understand congratulations are in order.” He pauses, his gaze flicking briefly to you, then back to Tyland. “You’ve managed to claim something rather… precious.”

Tyland inclines his head, maintaining his composure despite the underlying edge in Daemon’s tone. “Thank you, Prince Daemon. It’s an honor to be welcomed into the family.”

Daemon’s smile widens, though there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Yes, an honor indeed.” He leans forward just slightly, his voice lowering to something barely above a murmur. “But be mindful, Tyland. The weight of the dragon’s favor is not so easily borne. It can burn those who fail to respect its fire.”

You feel Tyland’s hand subtly tighten beneath the table, though his expression remains calm as he responds, his tone respectful yet unyielding. “I am well aware of the weight of my responsibilities, Prince Daemon. And I am prepared to uphold them with all due respect.”

Daemon chuckles softly, though there’s an unmistakable warning in his gaze. “Respect is a fine word, Lord Tyland. Let us hope your actions live up to it.” His gaze flickers to you, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “The blood of the dragon does not take kindly to betrayal.”

Before Tyland can respond, a stern voice cuts through the tension, drawing the attention of the entire table. “That’s enough, Daemon.”

King Viserys rises from his seat, his expression a mixture of weariness and quiet authority as he steps forward, fixing his brother with a steady gaze. “This is a celebration,” Viserys says, his voice calm but firm. “Not an opportunity for veiled threats.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, his expression one of feigned innocence. “Threats, brother? Surely you mistake my intentions. I merely wished to ensure that Lord Tyland fully understands the… gravity of his new position.”

Viserys’s gaze hardens, his tone unyielding. “He understands well enough. And I expect you to respect his position as my daughter’s future husband, Daemon. This union is a matter of family, not rivalry.”

Daemon’s smile fades slightly, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes as he regards his brother. “As you wish, Your Grace,” he says, inclining his head with a mockery of respect. “Far be it from me to disrupt the harmony of this joyous occasion.”

Viserys holds his gaze a moment longer before nodding, his voice softening as he gestures for Daemon to take a seat elsewhere. “Good. Now, join the celebration… or don’t. But remember that tonight is a time for unity.”

Daemon lingers for a moment, his gaze briefly returning to you and Tyland, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint, humorless smile, he inclines his head and steps away, finding a seat at a distant corner of the hall. The tension slowly dissipates, though the murmurs of the court remain, curious glances flitting between you, Tyland, and Daemon as the feast resumes.

Tyland turns to you, his gaze softening slightly as he offers a reassuring smile. “It seems our family is as complex as ever.”

You nod, your hand brushing against his beneath the table. “Complex, but no less ours. I am glad to face it with you.”

Rhaenyra, watching the exchange with a knowing smile, leans over and raises her goblet in a quiet toast to you both. “Welcome to the family, Tyland. And to the fire that comes with it.”

Otto Hightower stands near a window of his private chamber, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze thoughtful and cold as he stares out over the courtyard. Seated nearby, Alicent watches her father carefully, a faint crease of worry on her brow. Across from them sits Gwayne, his arms crossed, his expression sullen and brooding. The sting of watching Tyland take the seat beside you at the high table—your hand officially promised to a Lannister rather than to him—had left him simmering with disappointment and frustration.

Otto finally turns, his face set in a firm, calculating expression as he addresses them both. “This alliance,” he begins, his voice steady but laced with tension, “is no small inconvenience. With this union, the Lannisters will only grow bolder, their influence reaching further into the affairs of the Crown.”

Alicent nods, her expression grim as she considers her father’s words. “I noticed it tonight—how the lords from the Westerlands practically overran the hall, like they already considered themselves at the center of court.” She hesitates, glancing down. “It’s unnerving. House Hightower may have given the realm its Queen, but the Lannisters now believe themselves on equal footing.”

Gwayne scowls, his gaze fixed on a distant point on the wall. “It should have been me,” he mutters, bitterness seeping into his tone. “I could have strengthened the ties between our families. The match with a Lannister does nothing but stir the Westerlands into thinking they’re close to the throne.”

Otto nods, his gaze sharpening as he watches Gwayne. “Indeed, that was precisely what I intended to avoid,” he says, his tone firm. “Your union with the princess would have not only brought her closer to us but also kept Lannister ambitions firmly in the West, away from the Crown.” He pauses, glancing at Alicent. “Instead, we are faced with a growing threat that, if left unchecked, could one day challenge Aegon’s right.”

Alicent’s face tightens at her father’s words, and she clasps her hands tightly in her lap, her knuckles white. “What do we do?” she asks softly, her gaze flickering between her father and her brother. “How do we… contain this influence?”

Otto’s gaze hardens, and he steps forward, his tone cold and deliberate. “We do what we have always done, Alicent. We maintain our position with patience, precision, and careful alliances.” He turns to Gwayne, meeting his gaze firmly. “And Gwayne, you must stay close to the court. The Lannisters may have gained favor for now, but there will be… opportunities yet. You may not sit beside the princess, but your presence and loyalty are still assets.”

Gwayne lets out a low, frustrated sigh, but he nods, his voice laced with resignation. “I understand, Father. I will do my part, even if it is not the one I hoped for.”

Otto regards him with a stern look, his tone carrying a note of warning. “You must, Gwayne. The Lannisters are eager to consolidate their influence, but they underestimate us. They think they have won, but they’ve merely taken the first move. We will not be idle in our response.”

Alicent glances at her father, worry flashing in her eyes. “And what of the King? Viserys seems so… pleased with this match. I doubt he’ll listen if we voice any concerns about the Lannisters gaining too much influence.”

Otto’s mouth tightens, and he shakes his head. “We cannot rely on Viserys to see the long-term implications. His judgment is clouded by his love for his daughter. But in time, he will realize the threat. And by then, we must be ready to present an alternative.” He pauses, his gaze intent on Alicent. “Aegon must remain at the center of his father’s ambitions. He must be seen as the natural successor, the embodiment of the Targaryen legacy.”

Alicent nods slowly, her expression resolute. “I will ensure Aegon remains close to his father, that he stands out, even among the Lannisters and their new position.” She glances at Gwayne, offering a faint, encouraging smile. “And we will both work to counterbalance Tyland’s growing influence.”

Otto places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Precisely. And remember, this game is won not by rash moves but by careful steps. Let Tyland and his kin bask in their newfound favor, for now. We will be watching, and we will act when the time is right.”

Gwayne, though still visibly frustrated, straightens, nodding in agreement. “Understood, Father. I will wait… but I won’t be idle.”

Otto’s gaze sharpens, a glint of satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Good. Let the Lannisters think they have risen to power uncontested. In the end, the throne is far more than mere proximity. It is a game of loyalty, of influence—one we’ve been playing long before the lions ventured beyond their hills.”

The soft murmur of courtiers fills the grand halls of the Red Keep as you and Tyland walk hand in hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you as you move together through the crowd. No longer hidden, no longer veiled in secrecy—your union is now a celebrated bond, open for all to see. You feel a sense of freedom, the weight of past whispers and uncertainties lifted, replaced by a joy you never imagined would come from this alliance.

Tyland’s hand tightens slightly around yours, and he glances at you, his gaze softened by affection. “I still find it strange,” he murmurs, his voice low, meant just for you. “Walking through court like this, as if we belong here together, with the eyes of the realm upon us.”

You smile, leaning slightly closer to him as you savor the moment. “If anyone had told me a few years ago that this would be my future, that I’d be betrothed to a Lannister… I’d have laughed.” Your voice holds a note of amusement, but beneath it is a sense of wonder. “This life feels like a different path than the one I had imagined.”

Tyland chuckles, nodding in agreement. “I admit, even I would have thought it unlikely. But life has a way of surprising us.” He pauses, his gaze turning more serious as he watches you, his eyes warm with sincerity. “I never thought I’d find someone who understands me, someone I could truly trust, even in a place as tangled as the court. But here we are.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection. “And I’m glad for it,” you reply softly. “Whatever paths brought us here, I wouldn’t change a single one.”

Just then, a familiar figure approaches—one of Tyland’s cousins, Lord Martyn Lannister, with a warm smile and a gleam of amusement in his eyes. He stops before you, giving a respectful bow, though there’s a playful glint in his gaze as he addresses you both.

“Lord Tyland, Princess Y/N,” Martyn greets, his voice carrying a note of good-natured humor. “I believe congratulations are in order… again. The Westerlands couldn’t be prouder to see one of our own tied to the Targaryens.” He chuckles, his gaze darting between you and Tyland. “And I daresay, it seems you two are already making quite the impression on court.”

Tyland inclines his head, a hint of amusement in his smile. “Thank you, Martyn. I’m glad to know we have the family’s support here in King’s Landing.”

Martyn’s smile widens, his tone light. “More than just support. Some of us plan to stay here at court, in fact, to ensure you have everything you need. After all, it wouldn’t do to leave you surrounded by dragons without a few lions nearby for balance.”

You laugh softly, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of Tyland’s family rallying around you both. “That’s very kind of you, Lord Martyn. I’m sure Tyland and I will be glad to have familiar faces close by.”

Martyn chuckles, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Well, it’s not just kindness. There’s quite a bit of curiosity, too. You must understand, Princess—many of us are already wondering what future Targaryen-Lannister offspring might look like.”

A faint blush rises in your cheeks, and you exchange a look with Tyland, who lets out a soft laugh, his gaze affectionate. “A fair question, though one I can’t yet answer,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Though I imagine they might have their mother’s fire—and perhaps a hint of Lannister gold, just to keep things interesting.”

Martyn grins, nodding approvingly. “A good combination, if you ask me. But I daresay the court would be equally curious to see such an addition to the realm.” He winks, then adds, “But I won’t press. You’ll have your own time to build your family, as you see fit.”

You smile, grateful for the gentle way he broaches the topic, and you give him a small nod. “Thank you, Martyn. For now, we’re just enjoying each moment as it comes. The future will unfold in its own time.”

Martyn nods, his tone turning sincere as he addresses you both. “Well, know that the family stands behind you, in whatever may come. This alliance means more to the Lannisters than simply a marriage—it’s a bond that strengthens us all. And you, cousin,” he adds, giving Tyland a proud smile, “have done the family proud.”

Tyland smiles back, his hand tightening on yours. “Thank you, Martyn. Your support—and that of our family—means a great deal to us both.”

Martyn offers a final bow before stepping back into the crowd, leaving you and Tyland to continue your walk. You glance up at him, the warmth of his hand in yours and the promise of the future filling you with a quiet joy.

He leans down, his voice soft as he speaks just for you. “It seems we have a whole host of well-wishers at our backs, my lady. I think we’ve managed to surprise even our own family.”

You smile, leaning your head slightly against his shoulder. “Then let us keep surprising them, Tyland. I have no doubt the future will hold more than a few twists for us both.”

Hand in hand, you continue through the halls, savoring the freedom, the acceptance, and the bond you now share openly—a union blessed by your Houses, strengthened by your love, and watched over by the eyes of those who support you. 

[justporo]

"You always meet twice in life!"

A few weeks ago I got a request for writing something with Tav being the scary, protective one of Astarion in a established relationship by @nyxiethesimp .

And I absolutely love the thought.

So have Tav losing it to protect Astarion when they Araj Oblodra, Astarion being like "hot damn" and enjoying his scary dog privileges. Also this will become a two part story with Astarion and Tav taking a muuuuch needed break after this.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav

Warnings: Lots of swearing, graphic descriptions of violence, heavy spoilers

Wordcount: 2,6k

~~~

You had finally made it to the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. It had only been a handful of days since you had made it to the city but those had already been filled with way more events than you could possibly process in this short time span.

Your encounter with Astarion’s “siblings” had especially rattled you. Already you had been worried about entering the domain of Cazador. But seeing them, hearing about what it was that the vampire lord had planned from their mouths and Astarion hesitantly opening up about more atrocities he had suffered by the hand of Cazador Szarr had you on edge to say the least.

You were always hyper-vigilant – even more so than since all this had begun. You were barely getting any rest, always wanting to be on the lookout for Astarion. All you wanted was for him to be safe and sound and happy – tugged in with a nice blanket a teddy bear and a big smooch on the forehead.

Basically, if it had been possible, you would have shrunk him down and stuck him in your pocket, so he was always safe with you.

But since that sadly wasn’t an option, you had settled for taking every safety precaution possible, being on high-alert all the time and volunteering as his teddy bear: snuggling up close with him every night in your room at Elfsong Tavern and telling him how much you loved him.

It was safe to say, you both didn’t get a lot of sleep since fear and worries (not only about him but all your friends) kept you up most of all nights but at least you had each other.

Closing in on the lion’s den was only making it worse; also the fact that it actually was more than one den and more than one lion.

Today you felt that your fuse was especially short. Already you had barked at Shadowheart when she had been taking too long to get ready in the morning. And it must’ve been bad today because even Astarion had looked worried when he had softly touched your hand after you had thrown the door to Shadowheart’s room so violently the floorboards had shuddered.

“My love, as much as I love how strong and intimidating you can be”, he had said and softly taken your face in both his hands. “I don’t think screaming at the cleric will help us with any of our tasks. We don’t actually need more enemies against us. And I fear Shadowheart would make a formidable and very terrifying enemy.” Astarion’s brows had been deeply furrowed as he had angled his head and kept looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Astarion, I just-“

“No need to apologise to me, my love, I know how it burdens you to keep everyone safe.” Then he had softly and sweetly kissed you.

“You especially”, you had whispered between the kisses and made doe eyes at him. All of a sudden, the sleep deprivation and anxious feelings had you almost tear up – you were so exhausted.

“Oh my sweetheart”, Astarion had purred and tried to cheer you up with a smile but it hadn’t worked. “I hope you won’t forget to keep yourself safe, my heart.”

“You know I kind of suck at that, Astarion.”

“Good thing you have me to look out for you in turn then.”

A smile had crept back onto your face then and you had leaned in for another deep kiss when the door you had smashed only a short time ago opened up again and Shadowheart strode out.

“So, first you scream at me and then you make out just outside my room. Tav, as much as I appreciate you, you really need to get your hormones in check”, the cleric had declared while crossing her arms over her chest. Then she had went past without a word more but a sassy flip of her braid.

Then the party had started to make its way through the city: today’s mission was to scout out the Upper City, so you walked different streets today. Some of them were even new to you but Astarion certainly knew almost all of them.

Still in the Lower City you passed an inconspicuous looking house that became very suspicious once you heard a very loud explosion coming from it and a familiar drow came running out on the porch – Araj Oblodra.

Your eyes immediately narrowed, remembering how the last time had went, when you had had the absolute displeasure of dealing with her. Not only had her attitude been incredibly rude and teeth-grindingly arrogant in general, but the way she had treated Astarion was still making your blood boil. As if he was merely a thing to do her bidding, as if he had no own will or freedom.

Of course, what had come of that encounter had been sweet and lifechanging for you and Astarion, but you frankly could have done very well without it. Back then you had sworn to yourself that if you ever came to meet her again – or any other person who tried to hurt or simply disrespect your soulmate – you would make her pay if she hadn’t learnt her lesson.

And just seeing that arrogant face again made you want to claw her eyes out. Your face became an expression of disgust.

And sure as all Nine Hells: she spotted you and your group and a sort of malicious grin entered her face.

“Ah, what a coincidence, it is you, traveller. I was just experimenting with your blood – it is quite volatile and has allowed for many interesting experiments already.” She looked quite proud of herself – you wanted to retch.

“Why don’t you come in and let me show you what I’ve been working on. I could offer you more potions. If you were to offer me more of your blood of course.” Her grin grew and you could feel your stomach turn.

You threw your companion asking looks because you frankly had a very bad feeling, but… “I guess we could use everything we can get in the fight against the Absolute.” Gale who was standing behind you on the right voiced your thoughts exactly.

Astarion to your left growled at the wizard, making your head swing to him. He still had his teeth bared at Gale, but his gaze snapped to yours: “It’s your call, my love, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

His red eyes softened when he said that, and you were sure you could hear a quiet disgusted noise coming from Shadowheart.

You looked at him a moment longer. But Gale was right: you couldn’t actually pass up an opportunity that might present you with something useful for your task.

You sighed and turned around to the drow and slowly made your way up to her. She was grinning knowingly. Already you wished for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off her damned face.

You all followed her inside where she started to explain condescendingly what she had been doing with your blood as you stood there, arms crossed and your patience running thin.

Araj’s eyes kept wandering to your left where Astarion was standing. So you took a step back and casually grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his – clearly stating that she had to deal with the both of you.

When the drow saw your gesture, her face formed into a sneer and she interrupter her sentence: “Ah, I see you might’ve taken my wish and idea to get closer with your vampiric beau and made it your own. How thrilling!” You squeezed Astarion’s hand as you positioned yourself more squarely in front of the drow. The vampire tensed a little as the drow kept talking.

“The heart-stopping bloodsucker. I hope you’ve changed your mind – I mean since you’re obviously fond of the one neck already. My neck is yours, any time”, she finished and gave Astarion a look that would rather be meant for someone you wanted to get inside your bedroom and not someone you wanted to bite you. And it struck flaming hot jealousy into you.

“And I will be refusing until the end of time”, Astarion replied in a mocking high-pitched tone “I’m done bowing to the whims of others.” His tone deepened then, a growl almost laced with the words he let out through gritted teeth.

“Astarion, we can leave if you don’t want to be around her”, you offered him with a quick glance. His eyes darted from the drow to you and answering with a slight, quick smile. You could see that all others of your party also seemed more than displeased and tensed.

But before the vampire could answer you, Araj scoffed. “Pathetic weakling spawn – do you need your guard dog to protect you now?” Her lip was curled into a mean smile.

Something inside you snapped – the remaining string of patience that had been tense and worn thin for days if not weeks suddenly non-existing.

With lightning-quick reflexes you let go of Astarion’s hand and bolted towards the drow. Grabbing her by the collar and pulling her towards you until she was almost nose to nose with you.

“How many more times until you get it in your fucking head?”, you screamed at her and shook her violently. “He does NOT WANT TO BITE YOU AND HE NEVER WILL, YOU DAMNED BITCH!”

Your teeth were gritted and bared as you stared in the drow’s eyes wide with shock. You were absolutely feral, searing hot anger made your heart race as you clawed at Araj’s collar. It slowly cut off her air ways – you couldn’t care less.

No one was going to threaten or insult Astarion as long as you had a say in it – and certainly not this bitch. You dragged her in even closer and bared your teeth at her as she tried to get away from you. But you had the advantage of righteous and pent-up fury.

But a soft touch on your shoulder distracted you a bit, your hands loosened a little on the drow. “Don’t waste your breath on her, darling, she’s not worth it”, Astarion said directly behind you. “Let’s just leave, my love.”

Astarion, who usually delighted in people getting the sharp edge of your knife or an arrow to the eye from your bow, seemed a bit distraught by your sudden outbreak of violence. This was not exactly a behaviour he knew from you or expected from you.

“If I ever meet you again, I will fucking kill you”, you hissed at Araj and then slowly let go of her. You opened and closed your hands a few times to loosen your fingers again as you turned around and grabbed Astarion’s hand again who still looked – if not shocked, at least a bit surprised. He wasn’t used to people so aggressively taking his side and protecting him, although it had already been the second time you and him had denied the drow.

You heard Araj cough behind you from you almost strangling her.

The whole party had turned their backs to walk out the door again, when the drow spoke with a hoarse voice: “Pathetic low-life surface elves. Next time I’ll see you, I’ll bury a fucking stake in your vampire fuckboy’s HEART!” She screamed the last word.

That was it. You completely lost it. You whirled around and sucker-punched her with possibly the mightiest right swing you’d ever landed. The fluidity and acceleration of your graceful turn and motion towards the drow gave you the power you lacked in pure strength.

Your fist connected with Araj’s face who had absolutely no time nor means to avoid the hit. You struck her squarely on her nose and lips and you could hear her nose crack as her lip split and you probably knocked out a few teeth as well. The drow’s head was rocked back and connected with the wall she had been standing in front of. She was immediately knocked out and toppled to the ground as you groaned at the jolt of pain that had shot from your hand through your whole arm and upper body.

“You always meet twice in life, don’t fucking make it three times, you bitch”, you said as you shook her blood from your knuckles. The drow was alive but wouldn’t get up anytime soon.

Your friends were all stock-still and quite openly shocked at your display of violence. Even Astarion’s eyes had widened and he stared at you.

“I’m fucking done here”, you exclaimed and rushed outside while shaking your hurting hand. You threw Astarion a glance in passing and then stormed outside to cool your anger.

And as you threw the door close behind you, you were pretty sure, you heard Astarion mutter under his breath: “Well, mark me down as horny and scared.” And was that Gale agreeing with a shocked “hm-hm”?

You stood around aimlessly on the porch and carefully looked at your hand – your knuckles had split and were bleeding. Astarion strode outside after you – alone.

You looked from your hand to him. All your anger had disappeared now and had left you powerless and exhausted. Tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m sorry, I only wanted to protec-“, you started as you thought about the mess you had just created. But Astarion cupped your already wet face and kissed you with open lips.

That’s how you stood for quite some while. Astarion’s thumbs softly brushing away the tears from your eyes until they had dried up. After, when he had softly broken the kiss but kept holding your face he said: “There’s absolutely nothing to apologise for, my love. In fact, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to not only take my side but… uh… rather aggressively defending it.” His arms glowed with admiration and love and then he leaned in again to kiss you. You simply sniffled.

“Besides”, he said a few moments later when his lips left yours again and you had almost forgotten you were not alone in the world, “I mean it’s usually two men fighting to defend the honour of a woman, but I feel absolutely flattered that you’re out here knocking people out on my behalf. I would now definitely offer you my handkerchief with my initials embroidered into them as a token of my affection. And it was kind of – hot. Even the wizard thought so.” A huge grin split the vampire’s face and made you break out into a giggle.

As you moved to wipe away the last of your tears with the back of your hand, Astarion gasped a little. He quickly grabbed your injured hand and inspected it.

His thumb gently wandered over your knuckles as his brows kneaded together in worry and you hissed from the pain – looked like you’d hurt yourself more than you realised at first.

“Speaking of handkerchief – I’d really like to have one on my person right now to clean up your poor hand, my love, but I’m currently out.”

You simply replied with a soft mocking “aww” and made a face as Astarion kept carefully turning your hand over.

Then his head snapped up again and he watched you with a mischievous grin on his face: “That’s it, my love. I’m stealing you away for a day of rest and relaxation.” You immediately wanted to protest.

“Ah ah ah, my sweet, I won’t take no for an answer. You desperately need a break and I will get you this embroidered handkerchief as you are now my chosen champion to defend my delicate and precious honour”, Astarion said with a wink and a smile.

And then he kissed you again.

[velvrei]

Imagine Mike and reader are fighting the reader leaves which xause mike to start to loose his mind but Abby makes it her mission to get mike and reader back together.

this was originally a blurb but it got too long so i made it a fic!!

…

jokes aren’t funny

pairing : mike schmidt x reader

summary : mike and reader are in a relationship & they get into a fight and later into a rough patch. abby makes it her mission to get them back to being happy together.

warnings : fluff, slight angst (little sad parts), swearing

word count : 1k+

story under cut to avoid long scrolling!

you and abby were very alike. the two of you had similar thought processes, the same imaginary friends, you both liked to dance, that’s why it was perfect for her when you and mike started dating. she finally felt like someone understood her in a way only girls could.

so, you and abby formed a friendship. you’d play together, you’d babysit her while mike was at work, and it was going great. up until mike’s work schedule started to affect his mood and the time both of you spent together. him taking the nightshift made it difficult for you to spend any time together.

so, one day when mike came home, and abby was supposed to be sleeping, you had a talk to him about it. that talk, however, quickly turned into an argument.

“i don’t understand what the problem is?” mike reasoned, louder than intended. when his volume increased, so did yours, and now you both were practically screaming at each other, which was the first time you’d ever done so.

you sighed and rolled your eyes, “because you’re not trying to understand? maybe if you looked from my perspective you’d realize how horrible it is for me to talk to your little sister more than i talk to you! i love abby dearly but i need quality time with you too, mike! i’m your girlfriend!”

mike rolled his eyes, trying to keep them open sense he had no sleep for the past 20 hours and was extremely grumpy.

“i’m sure you can survive without seeing me, y/n! i know i can. i don’t need to see you everyday to function properly!” mike said, somewhat shouting then dramatically letting his head fall onto the dinning room table.

“am i just some kind of joke to you, mike?” you asked, your eyes starting to fill with tears. it didn’t matter that you were about to start your period, you still felt betrayed and felt like mike didn’t care about you as much as you did for him.

“now where the hell did you get that from?” mike shouted, “i never said that!” his voice was filled with anger and your words couldn’t help but grow his annoyance.

“that’s what it feels like, that’s what you’re implying.” you said, before grabbing your coat off the couch. “let me know when you’re ready to treat me like your girlfriend. until then, i don’t know if i can be anymore.” your last words made him stand, as you left and slammed the door behind you.

mike swore loudly and sunk onto the couch, rubbing his hair with his hands in a stressed manner, not noticing the little girl peaking around the door frame of her room. “mike?” he heard her little voice and broke down into tears.

“what?” he said, mid sob, not wanting her to see him the way he was. abby walked out from her room, wrapped up in one of her blankets. she walked over to mike, unwrapped it, and placed it over him.

“where did y/n just go?” she asked, “and why were you guys yelling like mom and dad?” those words made him break down, he started sobbing, and it made him realize that he wouldn’t lose you that easily. he physically couldn’t.

abby could tell he didn’t want to lose you that easily, so she helped him come up with a plan. until that plan was executed, however, mike couldn’t sleep for days, and when he did, his dreams were all about you. marrying you,

it had been about 4 days after your arguments. no contact, no texts on your part. however, mike wasn’t expecting otherwise, because of your last words you said to him, so he had to make the move, the ball was in his court.

so, with abby at his side, he texted you.

y/n, i’m so sorry for everything. can you come over so we can talk in person?

and so you came over, and he apologized to you. and said that his job at the nightshift was over, because he chose you, over his job. and the fact that the building collapsed but that takes away the sentimental value.

and abby was happy, because she was able to help get the both of you together.

[plus-size-reader]

Meeting the Family

Foggy Nelson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1821 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Foggy asking Matt about you, his hot foster sister who comes to bring them some take-out one night.

—————————————————————————————————

“Yeah, we’re here. Just park wherever. I’ll buzz you in, it’s 312”

Matt’s voice mindlessly filled his apartment as he spoke into his phone, currently pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

He had been on the phone for about six minutes now, and right about the time it started to sound like plans were being made, that was when Foggy’s interest peaked.

After all, he lived in their shared place too and whatever was going on was bound to involve him in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

“Whose on the phone?” He whispered, getting quickly waved off as Matt focused on the task at hand. Whoever had called seemed to be still chatting away which only interested Foggy further.

So, out of options, he made his way over to the window, hoping that whoever was coming up was close enough to the building for him to scope something out.

…and he was in luck.

Right across the way, in the parking lot attached to the student center was a young woman talking excitedly into her phone, lugging bags of chinese takeout in her free hand.

In all honesty, he doubted that was who was coming to visit, as neither Foggy nor Matt had had a pretty girl visit them since moving in but the details didn’t matter.

Once he started looking at her, he felt like he couldn’t stop.

Everything about her was captivating to him from the bright smile on her face as she spoke to the way she cleverly dodged tripping on the curb after clipping her heel stepping onto the street.

It was charming, as charming as a complete stranger could be and it actually made his chuckle.

“Nice save” he laughed under his breath, thinking about all the times he’d nearly wiped out in the same spot. “What is?” Matt wondered, suddenly appearing behind Foggy and nearly making the man jump out of his skin.

Apparently his phone call had ended, and he’d taken it upon himself to sneak up on his roommate, which always seemed surprisingly easy for him, given the whole being-blind-thing.

“This girl on the street, she almost ate it on the asphalt” he allowed, making room at the window for his roommate, not that he would be able to see her anyway.

Matt nodded, listening to your footsteps as you approached their building and made your way up to the call box. It was after official visiting hours in the building, but as long as he let you in, there wouldn’t be a problem.

Then, almost in sync with your movements, came the buzzing from downstairs. “That’s my sister, she wanted to see the place so I had her bring some food”

It was casual, all things considered, and still, the news hit Foggy like a ton of bricks.

Sister?

Since when did Matt have a sister?

“Hold on. You mean, you are related to her?” Foggy clarified, his jaw practically hanging down to the floor as he tried to process this new information.

Why was this the first he was hearing about it? And had you been this adorable the entire time?

Matt took a passive note of the way his roommate’s heart rate spiked briefly but thought nothing of it. Foggy was excitable and this wouldn’t be the first time he overreacted.

“Not really. We grew up together at the orphanage, became each other's family” he explained, hoping that was enough information without getting into your shared and very complicated history.

Really, there were enough stories between the two of you to fill hours and hours but there was no point dwelling on that now.

“That’s cool. I have a couple siblings too. I just didn’t expect to be meeting the family” Foggy tried, wondering casually if he needed to change into a cooler shirt before you made it up the three flights of stairs or if that would be too obvious.

After all, it was sort of against guy code to go after your buddies hot sister but it wasn’t like Matt wanted you anyway. It would be a waste if he didn’t at least make a good impression.

The knock on the door sent both men into motion, but for two very different reasons.

Matt made his way across the short expanse of the apartment to the front door while Foggy beelined for the bathroom, figuring he could fix his hair if nothing else.

“Hey Matty” you cooed, a wide grin on your face the moment Matt appeared in the doorway.

You two hadn’t seen each other since he moved in and, in your opinion, that had been far too long. After all, you had spent most of your lives a few doors down from one another.

You weren’t used to having to travel to see him.

“I heard you tripped in the parking lot on your way up” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and closing the door.

You scoffed, at first because he would have the guts to make fun of you when you came all this way with the best chinese food in town and then because there was no normal way for him to know that.

“How?-” you started but he waved you off with a gentle nudge, “Nosy roommate”

Then, as if on cue, Foggy emerged, doing his best to look both as handsome and as normal as he ever had. His hair was still untamed, sitting just below his shoulders, but at least he’d brushed it.

That had to count for something.

“You must be the nosy roommate” You nodded, pointing him out as you put the pieces together, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N”

On instinct, you produced your hand for him to shake it but Foggy didn’t move. He wanted to, he really really did, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything but stare.

Which was definitely very calm, and normal of him.

There was a beat of silence as you tried to figure out what to do, and Matt waited for Foggy to say something but it never came.

“That’s Foggy, and you can set the food in the kitchen”

You nodded, tapping his arm gingerly as you passed so he’d know you walked away before setting a new course toward where the little kitchenette across the apartment was.

Their place was no bigger than a dorm but considering two college boys lived in the space and one of them was completely blind, it was well kept and way nicer than you would have expected.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Foggy turned to his roommate with what could only be described as an incredulous glare dressing his face.

“Hey, so not to be weird but what the deal with your super hot sister?” Foggy hummed, hoping that his tone didn’t give away how aggressively he was ogling you to his best friend.

He could have used a heads up, at least.

He didn’t want to be inappropriate or make either of you uncomfortable of course but it wasn’t every day that such a beautiful woman invited herself into his living space and he was a little caught off guard.

He didn't want to miss an opportunity.

Not that you were an opportunity, of course.

He would never stoop so low as to think of you that way, he just wasn’t that kind of a guy.

Still, he was a guy and there was no getting around the fact that he was sure you were the most stunning person he’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d seen lots of people in his time.

“First of all, there’s no deal and second, she isn’t super hot” Matt answered, scrunching up his face as he considered that the reason behind Foggy’s increased heart rate was likely surrounding you.

Which was already far too much information as far as he was concerned.

“I can assure you, my friend, that she is uber hot, even if you can’t see it for yourself,” the blonde argued back, shamelessly letting himself watch as you searched the cabinets for actual plates.

You were sort of just hoping they would have some.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back” Foggy allowed, leaving Matt searching for which one of the movies in their extensive DVD collection they could watch while you were here.

You had gone through and made him braille labels for all the cases a while back, and now, all he had to do was decide which of the vast selection seemed right.

“The plates are up here” Foggy called, half jogging toward where you were still searching to reach up and grab the few dishes they had acquired together.

It didn’t even occur to him to wait for you to move before he did though, resulting in you basically being boxed in between his frame and the countertop.

There was a moment between the two of you as you met his eyes, a couple plastic plates held in his hands, the space between you essentially miniscule.

“Thanks, I was starting to think I’d never find them” you tried, doing your best to cover up how flustered the situation had made you, because you had just met him, after all.

There was no way you could have a crush on him already, right? Those things took time.

Though, how much time definitely seemed to vary because in the twenty minutes he’d known about your existence, Foggy would definitely say he had some kind of feelings for you.

He just wasn’t sure how to go about acting on them yet.

Foggy laughed, it still not occurring to him that he should back away from you, mostly because he didn’t really want to. “It’s no problem. We don’t really use them, not a lot of company”

That didn’t seem likely to you at first but between the two of them, you weren’t really sure who would have anyone to invite over more than the other.

“I’m sure you have girls over all the time” there was humor in your voice, but you were just as curious as teasing.

Surely you weren’t the first person to have noticed how darling he was. You thought the students at Columbia were supposed to be smart.

“Food’s getting cold!”

Matt interrupted your conversation before Foggy could assure you that, without a doubt, there were no other girls he’d rather have going through his dishware than you.

The reminder that you were not only not alone but also in the company of your brother made your skin hot but you did your best to cover it up with another light laugh. “

Coming right up, Murdock. Don’t get your panties in a knot” Foggy called, making a show of handing you the plates he’d so gallantly fetched for you before grabbing the take out bags, “And just for the record-there are no girls”

[restlessmaknae]

crush into you // myung jaehyun

When you literally crush into Jaehyun on your way to an interview, the boy manages to spill iced coffee on your blouse. That's how you end up wearing his own blazer to the interview to cover up the spot, and the rest is history.

➳ Characters: uni student!Jaehyun x uni student!female reader/you

➳ Genre: meet cute, slice of life, uni au, fluff

➳ Words: 3k

➳ Warning: mentions of foods

➳ A/N: This story had the second most votes in my recent poll, so here it is. I'm really enjoying their comeback, so it was very easy to write a story about Jaehyun. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @dat-town

Your days were carefully planned out with written to-do lists, calendar apps filling up your phone, and multiple scenarios made up with every plan that you might have. Just like today when you were about to go to an assessment centre as part of a job interview: a 3-hour selection process with an hour of group work, an hour of one-on-one interview with the hiring manager alongside an HR specialist and an hour for individual tests. You planned out when to leave the flat, when to get on the bus, which bus to take in case you didn’t manage to get on the exact bus you wanted and when you could possibly leave your neighbourhood the latest in order to still get to the company in time.

Myung Jaehyun’s days, on the other hand, were a hot mess. He was frequently running late from classes, group work meet-ups and dance practices, high on adrenaline and energy drinks. No one blamed him because the moment he flashed a smile, it was game over for them. Taesan might have given him a bombastic side eye for such a comment, but it was rare that anyone really reprimanded Jaehyun for being a bit too hyper, a bit too all over the place and a bit of a kid at times.

So when you literally crushed into him as you turned a corner towards the company and he was running around with his iced coffee in hand, trying not to be late from a class, on his part, the collision wasn’t that unexpected.

On your part though, it totally was.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry,” the boy exclaimed first things first just at the same time as you started apologising to him, but when you felt an odd cold sensation around your abdominal area, you immediately looked down at your white blouse, your lips parting in disbelief.

“Oh nooo,” you pouted, looking at the brownish spot on your white blouse caused by his coffee, multiple scenarios crossing your head as to how to fix this. You didn’t have enough time to go back to your flat to change, you weren’t familiar with the area, so you didn’t know whether they had a clothes shop around, and you didn’t know whether trying to get the stain out would only make it worse and the spot more noticeable or not.

“Oh. My. Gosh. I’m so… very… sorry,” the stranger reacted more dramatically than you would have thought so, all wide eyes and exasperated expression tinting his otherwise boyish features, messy jet-black locks falling into his eyes. As opposed to your business casual style - white blouse with black cotton pants and high-heeled sandals -, he looked more like a sophisticated yet fashionable guy around campus with his burgundy sports shoes, leather pants, a simple white tee, a black blazer and multiple accessories crowning the look from rings on his fingers to necklaces gracing his skin. You couldn’t have looked any different at that moment.

“I’ll make it up, I promise. Are you in a hurry, are you heading somewhere?” He asked nevertheless, his puppy eyes also in contrast to his whole appearance.

“Well, yeah, I’m going for a job interview. I’ll have to be there in 15 minutes, and it’s still like a 5-minute walk from here.”

“Oh no, that’s not good,” he shook his head, and with the hand that didn’t hold the half-empty cup of the rest of his coffee, he scratched the back of his neck. He bit down on his lower lip, clearly in deep contemplation, and you were about to end this whole conversation when his actions made you freeze on the spot. In a whirlwind moment of events, he threw his cup into a nearby trash can, got a tissue out of his pocket to clean his hand that the coffee also spilled onto and slid the blazer off himself to reach it out to you. “Here, take this. It might be a bit big on you, but it will cover up the spot nicely, and I think it will go well with your outfit.”

“But…”

“Please, take it. I don’t really know what else to do right now, and you have a job interview in 15 minutes, and I’m terribly sorry, and I don’t want you to mess it up because of me. So it might be worth a try? I don’t know, I just…” The boy kept talking on and on, his voice cheery yet also filled with guilt, and seeing his puppy eyes shining with genuine care, you didn’t have the heart to say no. What could possibly go wrong about trying it on either way?

“I was about to say that it’s actually a pretty smart idea,” you pointed out as you reached out for the blazer, and the boy’s face lit up fully when you complimented him. He flashed you a wide, toothy grin, his smile pushing his lips closer to his eyes, so much that his eyes almost disappeared while he was smiling at you.

The boy even offered to hold your bag while you put the blazer on, and since it had two buttons on the bottom, it allowed you to fully cover up the spot as if it had never been there. He was right though, it was big on you, but oversized was in fashion these days, right?

“Oh my gosh, it really does fit you,” he pointed it out in a similarly excited manner as before, and you smiled back at him, forgetting for a moment why you had even been wearing his clothes. Just for a moment though, you were back to your planning self within a second.

“Thanks for your help, but I really need to go now. Would you give me your number, so I can give it back to you later on?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said as he fished his phone out of his pocket to exchange contacts with you. As you locked your screen after saving his number, you looked up at him, into his shining jet-black orbs, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Gosh, your days were always so planned out, plan Bs and Cs tucked into your mind with every scenario that you could imagine, yet this, this was exactly the kind of thing you could not prepare yourself for. No wonder you were awfully unprepared for what to say.

Luckily, he was the one who woke up from his stupor first as he announced:

“Let me know how the interview goes. Good luck! You’ve got this!” He cheered you on as he threw his balled fists into the air, and off he went, the picture of his wide, toothy smile and his shining eyes difficult to forget even if you had more important things to concentrate on.

You agreed on meeting at a café a few days later. Those few days were enough for you to wash and dry clean the blazer, and to get a gift bag, so you could give it back to the boy (Jaehyun based on his KKT ID) in a presentable manner. You were supposed to be early for your agreed meet-up as you made your way to the café 10 minutes earlier, but you already found Jaehyun sitting at a corner table, scrolling through his phone and occasionally laughing out loud at whatever he was watching.

Jaehyun was not supposed to be early for your agreed meet-up, but given your well-prepared state the last time you had met, he started wondering where you could be at 15:15 when he had thrown himself into the café, totally panicked that you must have already been sitting there. Only to realise upon checking your messages with you that you had actually agreed on meeting at 15:30, meaning that he was actually 15 minutes early, not 15 minutes late. Not too bad for someone like him though.

So when you walked up to him and your voice dragged him out of his mindless scrolling, he flashed a wide smile at you, the one that had been engraved into your memories since your first encounter.

“Hey! Have you been waiting for a long time?” You inquired curiously as you hopped down on the chair on the opposite side of the table. Jaehyun let out a semi-embarrassed chuckle, one that made you furrow your eyebrows in question, although the smile was still playing on your lips.

“Well, that’s a funny story,” he started with a scratch on his neck before he continued with the story. “I thought… no, I was convinced that we were supposed to meet at 15:00, and so, I was fashionably late as usual. You know how I said that I’m usually late, but I’ll try my best to come on time. When I didn’t see you here at 15:15 when I got here, I checked our conversation on KKT, and it turns out we were supposed to meet at 15:30, so I was 15 minutes early.”

“Oh my gosh,” you couldn’t hold back your laughter as you were listening to his explanation, and the way he told the story made everything ten times funnier. He used wide hand gestures while speaking, and he played with his tone to deliver the parts of the story even more clearly. The boy laughed at himself too, so it didn’t feel weird laughing at his antics, something so unlike yours.

After pulling yourself together, you gave him the bag with the clean blazer, yet, he insisted that you shouldn’t have cleaned it yourself and bought a gift bag for him in which you delivered it. Hearing that, you insisted that crushing into him was partly your fault, and he did save you from having to sit though the 3-hour selection process with a visible coffee-stain on your blouse, so this was the least you could do. Plus, even though you didn’t say it out loud, you found it cute how he had asked about your interview afterwards on KKT (what position it was for, what company it was and how it went), and how delighted he had been when you had told him that you think you had done well. He had sent some encouraging memes in return (like the kid with his balled fists and a determined face), and just the thought that pretty much a stranger like him could be so happy and cheer you on eased your frazzled nerves post-interview.

You ordered your drinks while he was asking about your days and how you had been since you had last met. That’s when your phone buzzed, and seeing the company’s name on the screen that you had interviewed for, you immediately reached for it. Swiftly, you unlocked your screen and opened the message, only to let out a little bit of a squeal when you saw that you had gotten in.

“Oh my god, what is it?” Jaehyun asked, and his confusion was written all over his features when you looked up from your phone.

“I’ve got the internship! I’ve got in!”

Immediately, the boy’s features softened, and his lips pulled into a genuine, wide smile that could outdo the sun, his jet-black orbs twinkling with joy.

“Wow, congrats! That’s so cool!” He beamed, practically as excited as you, and clapped his hands enthusiastically. You could see from the corner of your eyes that you got some stares from the people nearby, but you couldn’t care less in your state. Finally, you landed an internship offer! “It’s totally the blazer’s doing though,” Jaehyun added cheekily, his smile turning into a crooked, almost cocky one.

“Yeah, totally, me and your emotional support blazer against the world,” you replied in a similarly teasing tone, and let out a laugh at the same time as the boy did. Gosh, who would have thought that you would meet him for the first time on the day you interviewed for the company, and you would meet him again when you were notified of your result?

Maybe he was really your lucky charm.

“You gotta celebrate though. Let’s order cake! I think I saw some cakes on the menu, and before you object, it’s on me,” the boy announced matter-of-factly, and grabbed a menu from a nearby empty table. You shook your head, seeing his pumped up state, since you couldn’t believe that he was so supportive of you. After all, you had barely met a week ago, and still, he acted as if you had always known each other, and it warmed your heart.

In the end, you did order some cakes (and you let Jaehyun pay for them), and while you were munching on them, you talked… and talked… and talked some more since it seemed that you could never run out of things to share. First and foremost, Jaehyun always had a story to share - mostly chaotic, yet partly cute ones -, and even if he didn’t, he always asked about your side, and it was just so easy to talk to him. Usually, you needed some time to open up to people, but he made talking to him feel so easy, so light, so comfortable.

Your favourite was when he insisted that he looked like a wolf, and pouted when you agreed with all his friends who said that he looked more like a puppy. When you added that if not a puppy, you saw him as a bunny, he perked up because that was the first time he heard about it. Never have you ever thought that a boy like him could get so specific about the animal he resembled, but you let him talk about it all he wanted to see those eyes shining so bright, to see that smile stretching so wide.

You packed up only when the waitress came by to tell you that you were nearing closing hours, and if that wasn’t a sign that you did lose track of time beside him, you had no idea what could indicate it more that beside him, you wanted to stop time, not wait for it to go by faster.

You had one crush in your whole life, and that had been when you had been 12, and the new kid had entered your class, and he had sat beside you. Said kid had turned out to be a total nutcase when he had opened his mouth, and you had officially dropped your crush 3 weeks into the new school year, and ever since then, you had never felt butterflies in your stomach, let alone declare your love for someone.

Until him.

Jaehyun had too many crushes in his life to count. His heart was just as erratic as his life, and it’s not that he was playing with others’ feelings, it’s more like he had too much love and joy to give others, but they didn’t always appreciate it. He fell in love easily, only to have his heart broken even more easily because his crushes had never liked him back.

Until you.

At first, you didn’t know if he felt the same way because he seemed so casual, you found it hard to believe that he could see you as more than a friend.

At first, he didn’t know if you felt the same way because you seemed so cool, so put together, he found it hard to believe that you could see him as more than a friend with his very different (and very chaotic) self.

Then, you started picking up on the signs: the way he showed you his dance practice routines to ask for your opinion when it was just the two of you at the dance studio he attended; the way he was ever so oblivious to the barista girl at a café because he only had eyes for you; the way he always asked about your day on KKT and sent memes to match your mood; the way he remembered every little thing - the date of your first 1-on-1 with your manager during your internship or when you would go to the dentist - despite telling you that his memory was terrible, and when he sent you photos of clothes that he thought you would like when he was shopping.

Then, he started picking up on the signs: the way you always gave him a detailed feedback on his choreographies when he asked you to even though you said you didn’t know anything about dance; the way you totally didn’t want to acknowledge that a guy was trying to flirt with you when you went to the cinema together and said that you were with Jaehyun as if to signal that there was no room for anyone else (his heart did a thing there, he couldn’t lie); the way you always knew what to say when he doubted himself or he was under the weather and sent him songs to make him feel better; the way you remembered every little thing - his favourite colour, the brand of his favourite snack and the plushies he wanted to win in the arcade game -, and how you kept bringing up his emotional support blazer because this was your little joke, this was your little thing.

No wonder this was how he confessed: buying you the exact same blazer in your size, and saying that you could think of it as your own emotional support blazer from now on or a couple item, you could choose.

And you would be foolish not to choose the latter.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

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Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️