#excuse my i have to back into my grave now
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toastyyjams · 24 hours ago
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TELL US ALL OF YOUR ORV THOUGHTS MY HSY BRAINROT IS SO BAD I LOVE HER SO MUCH
TY FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO RANT ABOUT ORV OMG
if any pjsk followers of mine reading this dont know orv its a series called omniscient reader's viewpoint!
i highly recommend reading the webtoon first for visualization but definitely read the novel starting from the chapter 180s (theres . like 551 chapters it took me months to finish but it took my older sibling like 3 weeks so it depends how insane u are /lh)
def recommend it if youre a huge fan of found family dynamics mweheheh and also mythology . its like a heart wrenching story disguised as a BL
gonna get into spoilers from the novel so heres ur warning !
anyway u said all my thoughts. so here we go
hsy oughhhh i love her sm shes more than just 'girlboss' i think shes more girlfailure cuz how do u manage to plagiarize ur own work smh /j
YOOHANKIM DYNAMIC MAKE ME ILL like the author cant exist without a reader . but the story also cant exist without an author . but you cant read anything if theres no author to create that story yk like THEYRE ALL TIED TOGETHER ITS AGHHH
during the previous ask i mentioned how orv handles platonic love and im still super happy how its portrayed esp kdj and ysa ... ik alot of ppl ship them romantically and/or often make them exes or such
but ive read rly good kdj x ysa platonic soulmate fics and OUGHH MY GOSHHH it made me go crazy cuz they care about e/o sooooso much
like how that one scene where kdj randomly traumadumps on her and as a defense mechanism he goes haha . just kidding XD ! but then ysa just . quietly holds his hand and shuts him up
bc ysa will never understand what hes gone thru but she can and will listen/support him when he needs it yk theres no words that need to be said shes holding his hand as kind of an anchor like 'hey ik u said u were joking but ik ur not and thats ok'
jung heewon too oughhhh when she goes "this is no salvation" I WENT BONKERSSS kdj stop hurting your companions!! u want them happy but u deserve it too!!!!!! shaking his shoulders YOURE KINDER THAN YOU THINK THE STORY YOUVE LOVED FOR YEARS AND KEPT YOU ALIVE LOVES U BACK KDJ AUGHH
i love the fact that 98% of the novel is in first pov of kdj and the fact that hes an EXTREMELY unreliable narrator . like i usually dont like first pov but orv does it well
esp when all of a sudden during the epilogue it started being third pov when kdj split into the 49% and 51% IT GAVE A RLY GOOD SENSE OF "wtf is happening . something is wrong" it rlly gives us readers the same feeling the characters have like uhmmm kdj ur ok now rigjt. right! i remember feeling so confused and uncomfortable at the sudden third pov ITS SO CLEVER
can i just also say i absolutely hate the live action . orv is meant to be consumed as a novel LIKE OF *ALL* POPULAR WEBTOONS TO ADAPT ITS THE ONE THAT WOULDNT WORK AS LIVE cashgrab ass scheme smh
i also hate and admire the fact that anyone who has finished orv is a kdj fragment . i hate how anyone who finished the entire novel kins kdj in some sort of way . like when i kin pjsk characters for example im just like haha i relate #relatable but when it comes to kdj . hes just so uncomfortably relatable for me like i need to put him under a hydraulic press
"you who reads this will survive" ITS SOOO CLEVERR its addressing kdj and YOU! the whole theme of the novel is just so . personal lowkey so when the live action got announced and some annoying ass mfs were making fun of orv fans for being upset i wanted to rip my hair out THE STORY IS FOR US kdj himself would be rolling in his grave at the disrespect for a webnovel fr
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birdhouse-of-shadows · 2 years ago
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*starts crying and throwing up*
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Volume 38 back cover is Tokoyami!
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smile-files · 10 months ago
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i think the main issue in arguing with zionists is that, well, they believe in zionism! if israel did deserve to exist, then the genocide and injustice in palestine could be argued for (not like it should be, but it certainly could) -- and zionists believe israel deserves to exist.
i, unfortunately, have a large amount of experience interacting (personally) with zionism and zionists. most of those i've talked to feel for the palestinians, and the violence they are facing, but they fail to realize (or they staunchly deny) the very, very active part israel and the IDF have had in that -- and how it's representative of what the nation has always done.
at the same time, they focus more on israeli hostages than palestinian ones -- and i know, of course, that these zionist jews i've interacted with are either israeli or have loved ones in israel, and so have a very personal stake in the safety of israeli hostages (which may very well be friends or family members), but i find it strange how much emphasis they put on hamas' cruelty in taking hostages while the IDF is doing the same thing (in essence; the exact details of who's doing it worse are important to note, but not relevant right now, because folks should realize that their side is being at least as cruel as the enemy's).
recently i was drawn into an argument with an israeli zionist (who, unfortunately, is very close to the action and tragedy by being israeli), and she was incredibly offended by my anti-zionism and my opposition to israel's abject cruelty to palestinian citizens, as it seemed (to her) like i was bypassing the cruelty hamas has enacted on israeli citizens -- which is very telling. i've noticed that we as jews have the tendency, whatever the situation may be, of focusing more on our pain than the pain of others, even if we are the ones hurting them. that person has every reason to be scared and hurt, and i'd be lying if i said her response wasn't at least somewhat sympathetic, but her pain in this horrible, violent conflict does not invalidate the pain on the other side. jews, throughout this recent crisis, have consistently not talked in depth about the constant losses in palestine -- am i suddenly being callous by focusing on those losses, and not our own? (YOUR PAIN AND THEIRS AREN'T MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE, YOU DOLT! sorry...)
because it all comes down to believing in israel! my mom has always told me about how beautiful it is there, about her time living on a kibbutz... and sure, it might be nice. i can't argue with that. but why is it that our nationalism for israel is so strong, so virulent? i have not seen patriots as loyal for any other country. and when you criticize israel, israelis feel like you're criticizing their entire existence -- and many non-israeli jews do, as well. because zionism has been built so deep into the modern religion! it's made to be a necessary piece! belief in it is the default!
and, from the inside looking in, i can't be surprised that many jews take anti-zionism as being antisemitic -- because, to them, israel and zionism stand as the pinnacle of safety and support for the jewish people. it is impossible to argue with them about anything above that base layer, as the base layer itself serves as a foundation: so long as a jew thinks that israel is right, deserved, and necessary, no proof will sway them into hating israel. it's just impossible, and that's very frustrating.
for me in particular, i find it very frustrating, as this single idea has turned so many people i know to support a genocidal entity. they believe in and support israel, so they stand with it now -- even if they condemn its current actions, they neglect how those actions are just an extension of its inherent existence -- whether they think israel's doing the right thing or wrong thing right now, they don't really care at the end of the day, because israel, to them, is necessary in keeping the jewish people alive. they stand with it, thinking that jews can only stand at all if they do.
but a genocidal crutch is no crutch at all: it only breaks us more. zionist jews make me so mad, and the worst part is that i could never express that to them in a way they'll understand.
#melonposting#anti-zionism#israel#i am so madddd and frustrated and stressed#with the whole camp thing going on my parents will inevitably find out (and soon!) that i'm anti-zionist#and given their age and proximity -- they're so deeply entrenched in zionism that i can't even hope to sway them#it's so sad and scary (i don't want them to be mad at me -- even though that really isn't the important thing here)#but it's also philosophically bizarre... like these people have good principles!#it's just this one tiny stupid thing (believing in israel) that's effectively turned them into bad people!#<- it's weird saying something like that. because i don't think they're bad people. but they're zionist.#part of it is that they're my parents and i love them but also... they're so good otherwise. a single thing went wrong.#(okay well not a single thing but it's generally minute things y'know?)#i don't wanna hate my parents. and i don't want them to hate me. can they please for the love of god stop#(takes every jew i know by the shoulders and shakes them back and forth) PLEAAAASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOPPPPPPP#anyway it's very hard for me to do work because i have this on my mind.#how do i break it to my parents that 1. i won't be working at camp this summer and 2. it's because i hate zionism?#i'm not cut out for situations like these ughhhhh why did i have to post that stupid anti-zionist instagram story in march#i could've just chosen not to take the job on my own accord and have enough time to come up with an excuse for my parents#whatever. too late for that. i dug my grave and now must lie in it#i guess it's character-building?? :')
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yeonzzzn · 7 months ago
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pocket full of sunshine ; choi soobin
oh shit, we’re soulmates?! part one / five
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pairing: soobin x afab!reader word count: 12.6k
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synopsis: the last thing soobin expected was a stranger to sit beside him on the bus full of empty seats and clinging to his arm. due to a toxic ex, you beg soobin to come on vacation with you as your step in boyfriend for the week.
genre: fake relationship trope, soulmate!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut.
warnings: swearing, soobin and reader share a bed, alcohol, making out in public, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI!
𖤓 soobin(1) | yeonjun(2) | beomgyu(3) | taehyun(4) | huening kai(5) 𖤓
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Fake relationship trope? Are the fates fucking with him or could he simply just not read correctly?
Eighteen-year-old Soobin stared up at the acolyte standing before him, a massive smile on their face as they outstretched their arms, “The fates have spoken, my child!” 
Utter bullshit. 
Soobin has always been skeptical about this special moment all the adults growing up would talk about and be excited. 
“It’s one of the best moments of your life!” “There is something so great knowing how you’d meet your soulmate!” “It’s one of the gods greatest gifts!” 
And what god, exactly, decided to drop these “gifts” to everyone? 
But he still couldn’t help but feel even the tiniest bit of excitement to see what this fated trope of his would be. And obviously, to his disappointment, it was utter bullshit. Fake relationship? Yeah right. What a fucking joke. 
Or so he thought. 
Now at the age of twenty-three, fate really has a way of continuing to fuck everything over. Because here you were, plopped next to him on this shady ass bus going Northbound into the city and hugging up on his arm. 
Soobin tried to release from your tight grip, pulling the strings of his earphones to release the music blasting in his eardrums, and glared down at you, “Excuse me?” 
“Please, just play along.” You quickly said, pleading with him with your eyes. And that’s when Soobin noticed how badly you were shaking. 
Your eyes quickly whipped to the front of the bus, Soobin’s eyes following yours, a scoff released from his mouth following up with, “Ahh, I see.” 
You squeeze his arm tighter, “Please,” you beg again, “I’ll explain later.” 
Now what kind of guy would he be if he turned down someone so desperate?
So he forced his arm free and locked his hand with yours, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand as he squeezed his fingers against yours, eyeing the man who now stood in front of the two of you. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” the dark hair male said, “That your new boyfriend was waiting on the bus for you.”’
And thank the gods it worked out. 
In all honesty, you were afraid this little lie of yours wasn’t going to play out well. With your luck, you’d have a bus filled with old creepy guys and would have to make up another excuse. But thankfully your stars aligned and saw the perfect dark brown-haired male slumped in the seat and staring off into complete space. And thank whatever god was listening that he decided to play along. 
“Of course, I’d be here waiting for her,” Soobin said with a sly grin, “Can’t let her take the bus into the city alone, what kind of gentleman does that?” Soobin then reaches across the seat with his free hand and cups your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, “Can’t let my sweet bunny go off all alone.” 
Now you were the one glaring up at him as his stupid ass smug smirk grew ever wider. Did you make the right choice with this one? There were plenty of other cute guys with empty seats beside them you could have chosen. 
You dug your grave and guess you gotta lay in it. 
He finally released your face and stared back up at your ex, his eyes now narrowing, “And who are you? Sorry for my lack of manners, I just don’t recall who you are, exactly.” 
The male let out a scoff, eyes darting to the floor, “Must really be over me, YN, if you aren’t even speaking about me.” 
Ahhh, so this is what the situation is. 
You roll your eyes and lean a bit forward, clenching the brown-haired male's hand tighter, “I’ve been telling you that since you started stalking me about the bus stations, Sungchan!” 
Oh, so this guy is an asshole.
“You’re stalking my girlfriend?!” Soobin snapped, standing up quickly in the seat, you tried hard to pull him back down. You had to admit, he was playing this part perfectly. 
Sungchan held his hands up in defense, “I wasn’t stalking her! I just happened to be walking past and noticed her. If I knew she had a boyfriend I wouldn’t have even made the stop.” 
It took everything in Soobin to not roll his eyes and throw a punch. He actually hated this guy already. Like who the fuck give that as an excuse when it’s so clear he was stalking YN?
“Can the young man standing in the aisle please sit down for your safety.” the bus driver announced over the speakers. 
You glanced out the window, seeing the bus was in full motion. You didn’t even realize it started moving. 
Sungchan tucked his tongue into his cheek and nodded, “I don’t want to cause any trouble,” his eyes then whipped over to Soobin, “I am assuming you’re coming to the beach with us next week, ya?” 
At this he fell silent, not knowing how to answer his question. How could he just say—
“Of course he is,” You shrugged, “There’s still that open spot from Chaewon backing out.” 
Before Sungchan could open his mouth to speak, the bus driver once again was snapping at him to take a seat. So without another word, he moved to the back of the bus. 
You relaxed into the seat, quickly pulling your hand out of the stranger’s, “Thank you for that,” you whispered, watching as he sat back down into the seat, his eyes studying you hard. 
“I don’t know what kind of load of bullshit this is, but you’re awfully brave. I could have been a serial killer. Like Ghost Face type shit.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the man, turning away to face forward, “I’ll explain everything to you at whatever stop you’re getting off at,” Soobin went to protest, but you stopped him, “I need to make my lie look believable. Sungchan is a very smart man, he probably already assumes what it was I was doing. So just let me get off at the next stop with you,” you looked down at the dusty and gross floor of the bus, “He isn’t going to get off this bus until we do, I can promise you that.”
Soobin wanted to snap at how this wasn’t his problem and a massive case of baggage that you need to clean out yourself. But when he looks at you…all he can see and feel is how badly your body was shaking earlier. So he sat back in the seat and stared out the window. 
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Thirty minutes of silence passed before Soobin flagged the driver to stop at the next upcoming bus stop. You quickly stood from the seat and let him move in front of you, leading the way. As he walked passed, he hooked his pinky finger with yours, pulling you along behind him. 
You both could feel Sunchan’s glare as you stepped off the bus, not once turning around as the doors of the bus closed, and the sounds of it drifted off down the street. 
Once the bus was no longer in view, Soobin dropped your pinky and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “Want to explain yourself now, YN?” 
Something about the way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. You settled with a maybe both. 
You sighed and looked up at him, seeing his cocoa eyes staring back, “That guy,” you started, breaking your gaze from him, “Is my toxic ex-boyfriend.”
“Well, yeah,” Soobin shrugged, “It was kind of obvious, wasn’t it?” 
You nodded, “He and I broke up months ago, caught him cheating on me with one of our friends.” 
Soobin hung his head low, closing his eyes, “I’m assuming that friend was…Chaewon? Wasn’t it?” 
You hated how this male was able to piece together everything so quickly. You nod again, “As you can probably tell, my group of friends planned a vacation with each other to the beach last year. But found out he was cheating on me and welp, Chae dipped out after I  discovered she was the other woman,” you cross your arms, letting a shrug form, “I wanted to back out too, but my best friend is still going and he begged me to go still.” 
Soobin felt bad for you. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrible this all was affecting you. How terrible you must feel. 
“I’m a hundred percent sure he was looking for me,” you twisted a piece of string hanging out of your tee shirt, “There’s no way he didn’t know I just got off work and was heading back home. I live near my place of work, I didn’t even need to get on the bus. But he was begging for me back and I panicked.” 
Soobin believed you. Your shaking body still feeling fresh against his body, “I’m sorry this is happening to you, YN.” 
You glanced back into his eyes, seeing the true apologetic gaze in them. You shrug again, “Thank you for playing along, I don’t know what I am going to do abou—“ 
An idea hit you just then. Soobin could see the gears turning in that brain of yours. 
“No,” he laughed, waving you off before you could even speak, “Absolutely not!” 
You walked up to him, being inches away from his face, standing right up on your tiptoes, “Please! It’s just for a week and you’ll never have to see me again!” 
Soobin took a step back, needing to create that distance. His heart was racing, hands were shaking. You were literally asking him to be your fake boyfriend for a week. His trope rang in the back of his head, there’s no fucking way. 
“You’re awfully brave asking a complete stranger you just met to be your fake boyfriend,” Soobin scrunched his nose, trying to play this off, “I’m not doing it.” 
You were desperate, and you didn’t care how badly you looked it. This was the only way you could think to get Sungchan off your ass and finally get the hint that you DON’T want him anymore. So you pleaded with the man in front of you, “I know we just met, but I’ll repay you for this,” you stretched your hand out, him raising a brow at it, “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and if you decide to go, give me a call. We don’t leave for another four days.” 
Soobin looked away into the distance at the setting sun. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. 
Before he could stop himself, his hand was reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling his phone out, and placing it into your hands, “I’m not going to make any promises that you’d even hear from me.” 
And that was enough for you, quickly creating your contact in his phone, “All I could ask for is you consider it.” He took his phone back from you, and you waved him goodbye, “Thanks again… uhhh??” 
“Soobin,” he said, studying you as you walked backward away from him, “I’m Soobin.” 
You smiled at him. A smile that shot right to his heart. He didn’t move from his spot until you disappeared from his sight.
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“You what?!” your best friend snapped, brows creasing inward as he looked at you with pure disbelief. 
All you could do was look at him, blankly blinking, “Hoon—“
“Let me get this straight,” Sunghoon said, leaning against the countertop in your shared kitchen, his face being dropped into his palms as his elbows turned red from being leaned on, “You ran into Sungchan, jumped onto a random bus and sat next to a complete stranger and begged him to be your fake boyfriend until you followed him to his stop and then begged him to continue the web of lies you dragged him into and then invited him to the vacation? YN that’s fucking stupid!” 
Stupid was one word for it. You sat back in the chair, staring down at the marble of the countertop, “I was desperate. I didn’t even know what I was doing until the words were leaving my mouth.” 
Sunghoon looked up at you and let out a sigh, “Did he even agree to go?” 
You glanced over at your phone, still waiting for a call or shit—even a text from Soobin on whether he was going, or not. Sunghoon followed your gaze down to your cellular device and let out another sigh in response to his question. 
It’s been two days since you’ve met Soobin. You couldn’t help the anxious feeling settling in your gut at the possibility of having to expose your lies once it’s time to meet at the beach house within the following days. 
“YN, you need to be careful with your—“ 
“Please don’t bring up my given bullshit trope.” 
You had to be honest, you didn’t believe in fate or tropes or whatever type of bullshit the gods “graced” the world with. Your trope, you’ve tried experimenting with multiple times and it’s gotten you nowhere. It doesn’t exist. 
Sunghoon tilted his head, “I was just saying,” he leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes locked on you, “You’ll believe in it once it happens for you.” 
Your best friend had found his soulmate. She’s a cute girl, very witchy and into the occult things. Sunghoon calls her a hex girl and she calls him a bloodsucker. You never understood their dynamic, but they are cute, nevertheless. Their red string of fate tied them perfectly together. She also adores you and never once had a problem that her boyfriend’s roommate was a female and his best friend. Even with him having a soulmate, you still weren’t convinced. Mostly just for yourself. 
“Speaking of,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, “Why can’t __ come along?” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “She has work. And since she took off when she and I went out to that cabin, she wasn’t able to take more time off.” 
It made sense. You were lucky your boss even let you have the entire week off for the beach. It took a lot of convincing. 
You stared at your phone again. 
“Well,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat, “I’m going to finish watching this Sci-Fi movie about this guy in space who gets his memory wiped.” 
You raised a brow at him, “That’s an interesting-sounding movie.” 
He nodded, “I’ve seen it multiple times before, can’t get enough of it!” he slapped his hand to the counter with excitement, “The movie is in a whole time loop! I won’t spoil too much.” He smiled wide, his natural fangs on display. 
You looked at him with endearment. You truly loved Sunghoon and his geeky ways. 
He gave you a knowing look, “Want to join me? We can restart it from the beginning,” You looked back at your phone, debating if you needed the distraction, “I’ll brush your hair.” 
You jumped up from the seat and tossed your phone into your pocket, “Say less!” 
Sunghoon followed behind you into the living room.
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“Fucker!! I said COVER ME!” Beomgyu screamed through the headset, nearly making Soobin fling them off his head. 
Kai’s laugh filled the headset right after, “Bro, I was covering you, I can’t help you decided to rush in and half the team was in there.” 
Yeonjun sighed then, “Unlike you idiots, I’m playing it safe and staying on the high ground.” 
“Sure,” Soobin rolled his eyes as he rushed into a building and unloaded his shotgun into the “half of team” that took out Beomgyu and Kai, taking down all of them, “If you want to call camping on a rooftop with a sniper playing safe, go ahead.” 
Yeonjun scoffs, “I haven’t died—FUCK!” 
Soobin smirked and the others laughed at the kill feed, seeing Yeonjun’s gamertag displayed at the top of it. 
“Haven’t died yet? Right. Safe? Right.” Taehyun teased him, making more giggles fill the earpieces. 
“Fuck you guys,” Yeonjun snapped, the sounds of his fingers smashing his keys in the hope of a faster respawn, “Gyu has no room to talk, homie is in a gaming unit and still has died more than the four of us combined.” 
“I’m not playing for real,” Beomgyu countered, “This is all just fun and games, baby.” 
“Then why bitch about Huening not covering you?” Taehyun countered back, “Sweats don’t yell like that when they are just having fun and games, baby.” 
Beomgyu scoffed over the mic at his friends teasing, “Old habits die hard—KAI WHAT THE FUCK!” 
“They sure die hard alright,” Yeonjun laughed. 
“Anyway!” Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t we actually be discussing Soobin’s situation?” 
“Oh, yeah!” Kai exclaimed, “Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” 
Soobin shrugged as if his best friends could see, “I really haven’t decided.” The truth was, he hadn’t even really given it a lot of thought. Work has been killing him lately and even when he has thought about it, it was only for a short couple minutes then he shoved it back to the back of his brain. This wasn’t his problem to fix, you got yourself into that situation.
“I totally think you should go for it,” Kai said, rushing into another building and getting shot down immediately, “Damnit! But, who knows? Maybe this will be your soullllmmmaaaattteeee.” Kai teased. 
Soobin couldn’t help but scoff, “My trope? It’s bullshit. Always has been.” 
Soobin had plenty of fair share of fake relationships to help make exes jealous on both his and the other female’s side. Random hookups for the night to play along after a drunken night out partying. Never came out to anything. This was no different. 
“Plus we don’t even know her trope,” Yeonjun added, “This very much could just be a normal “I got myself in a sticky situation, please help dig myself out” situation.” 
None of Soobin’s friends believed in soulmates or their tropes. Every single one of them thought it was bullshit. Like the acolytes picked a trope out of a hat and called it a day. 
“Well, all the soulmate bullshit aside,” Taehyun sighed, “It is a free trip. You wouldn’t have to pay for anything. Just literally show up and enjoy a free vacation.” 
Soobin raised his brows and cocked his head to the side, “That is true. Unless YN slaps me with the bill at the end of the week.” 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Beomgyu said, using an emote as the round ended, “She told you she would repay you. I doubt she’d make Soobin pay up his half for a trip that wasn’t even his doing in the first place.” 
Soobin sighed, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his middle and index fingers. This was a hard situation to deal with. Not only would he be missing out on a whole week's worth of work—which means less money in his bank account, he would be having to call out at the last minute AND be dealing with people he doesn’t even know all because you had to lie. 
But then again—it would be a free vacation. Nothing would be coming out of Soobin’s pocket. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the loading screen as the game went into another round, his trope rushing through his mind. He couldn’t help but feel this was way too convenient. He bit at the corner of his lip, really putting thought into this. 
“Don’t think too hard over there buddy,” Kai teased, “Just say YOLO and go. It won’t kill you to go hit up the beach for a week. Plus, she said you wouldn’t have to see her or her friends after that, it would be a win.” 
Soobin nodded. He did truly feel sorry for you. Having to deal with Sungchan and even being put in that situation to begin with. Just thinking of Sungchan and what he did to you made Soobin’s blood boil. A smirk curled at his lips. 
“You know what, Kai is right,” Soobin sat up straight, reaching for his phone, “You only live once.” 
His friends had a mixture of words and cheers. Soobin pulled his headset down around his neck, found your number, and pressed the call button. He leaned back in his chair, biting at the skin on his cheek, waiting for you to answer.
After four rings, you picked up, “Hello?” 
Hearing your voice put a smile on his face, and he couldn’t explain why, “YN, It’s Soobin.” 
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You weren’t sure what you were expecting when he offered to be the one to drive the two of you to the beach. But it sure the hell wasn’t what was currently in front of you. 
Soobin parked as close as he could to your apartment. He stood outside, leaning up against the front end of his pretty fancy black SUV. His hands are in the pocket of his jean shorts and his head facing off into the distance with sunglasses resting against his nose. 
Your heart skipped a beat. Why was this person you barely know making your heart flutter like this? He’s just standing here. 
He finally turned his head, looking up at you and the corners of his lips curling upward, “You going to come down or do I have to drive to the beach without you?” 
You returned his smile, “Chill out, I’m coming down!” You rushed down the stairs to see he now moved from his car to the foot of the stairs, hands reaching for your duffle bag. Normally you would have snapped your hand back to keep your stuff with you, but you let him take the bag. He took off to the side, another arm stretched out as you stepped down to the ground, his hand placed gently to your lower back as he gently moved you in front of him to walk towards his car. 
“We have a three-hour drive, so there is still time to back out of this,” Soobin said, now removing his hand from your back and placing it on the passenger side door, “If you don’t want to do this, I am giving you that last chance to take your bag from me and go back into your apartment.” 
You understood what he was doing. He was giving you a way out of having to deal with Sungchan altogether. The weight of that option was tempting, but you shook your head in a no, “Everything will be fine,” you didn’t know if you said that more for him or yourself, “Plus, Sunghoon already left for the beach. I’d be here alone and honestly, I need a vacation.” 
Soobin nodded, opening the door for you, “Well, let’s hit the road then, princess.” 
“Such a gentleman!” you teased as you climbed into the seat. 
Soobin gave you a smirk and leaned into the car, “My mother raised me right, what can I say?” 
After tossing your bag into the backseat alongside his, you both hit the road. You did have to admit, you were nervous. What if something goes wrong? Or everyone finds out about this lie you’ve conjured up? Sunghoon was the only one who knew the truth. But you were almost positive that Sungchan knew–or suspected–the truth. 
Soobin could tell you were nervous. He could see it in your body language and the hint of your voice that was slower than what it was when you and him sat on the phone to discuss plans for this entire trip. He’s only known you for a short few days, but he felt he already knew parts of you that no one else did. And he couldn’t place why that was. So he reached across to the radio, turning up the music in the hope it would ease your nerves. And oh boy did it. You were able to sink back into the seat and focus on the music. 
The three-hour drive wasn’t actually terrible. You and Soobin made only two stops, one for a bathroom break and snacks and the other for a quick lunch. Soobin also drove the entire time and wouldn’t give up the driver's seat no matter how many times you offered to drive. “I’m going on this trip for free. It’s the least I could do to make up for that part.” But did he forget you’re the one who owes him for even agreeing to this trip? 
It wasn’t too much longer before the beach came into view. You couldn’t help but roll the window down and lean your head out, taking in the sights and smells of the ocean and the sand. The sounds of the waves crashing against the sand and birds chirping as they flew by. You don’t get to come out to the beach often, so when you do, you take in everything. 
Soobin took his eyes off the road for a few short seconds to look at you then out to the ocean, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 
You nodded, “I can’t remember the last time I got to see this view.” 
Soobin rolled down his window, letting the full sounds and smells fill the entire car. He leaned his elbow onto the edge of the window and propped his head into his palm, “The last time I was here probably had to be about two years ago? My friends and I all came for a day trip.” 
You sat back in the seat and glanced over at him, loving the small smile he had on his face, “You’re a group of five right?” You thought back to the conversation you and Soobin had a few days ago about the trip, him fully admitting his friends helped push him into even coming along, “Pretty close?” 
Soobin’s smile lifted more, “Close isn’t even the right word to describe what we all are. Brothers would be a more fitting term.” 
Hearing Soobin talk about his friends reminded you of how you felt about Sunghoon. Close wasn’t even close to being the right word. Soobin was right about that. 
Thinking about friends made the nervousness settle back into the pit of your stomach, “How are we going to pull this off?” 
Soobin’s smile faded, “You’re still worried about that?” You nodded. How could you not be? “It’s just for the week, YN. Then you can make up some story on how you got rid of me and everything will go back to normal.” 
All you could do was nod again, leaning your head back onto the headrest and staring off into the distance of the open sea. The truth was, you felt comfortable with Soobin so far, what if you want to keep him around as a friend by the end of this trip? Would he even be okay with that?
You could only hope. 
Soon enough the beach house came into view and the cars of your friends piled up around the parking station around the house. You pointed out Sunghoon’s car and Soobin parked beside it. 
Well, here goes nothing. 
You and Soobin climbed out of the car at the same time, him already reaching for both your and his bags, carrying them over his shoulder. 
Sunghoon was the first to pile out of the beach house, his arms stretched out wide as he ran towards you, “You guys finally made it!” 
Your best friend's hug gripped you tight as if he hadn't hugged you in years, “Hoon, I saw you this morning!” 
He finally pulled away, resting his hands on your shoulders, “I miss you all the time! Even when you’re right beside me!” You rolled your eyes at his separation anxiety he has towards you but still smiled anyway. You took notice his eyes were no longer on you, but locked onto Soobin who stood behind you, “That’s Soobin?” You nodded, a new fear prickling up your shine that maybe Sunghoon doesn’t approve of this even more, “He wasn’t what I was expecting.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, because what exactly was he expecting?
Sunghoon finally moved around you, reaching his hand out to Soobin, “Good to put a face to the name I’ve been hearing about lately.” 
Soobin took his hand, assuming this guy was your roommate and best friend. Soobin smiled, “Same to you, Sunghoon.” 
Sunghoon smirked and leaned closer to Soobin, becoming only a few inches away from his face, “I know about this whole situation,” Sunghoon’s voice dropped deeper and his eyes became serious. Soobin just stared back at him, locking his jaw tight, “While I didn’t agree with her even doing this, I am glad you decided to play along. But if you hurt her..” 
Soobin forced a smirk of his own, “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m just here to piss off Sungchan.” 
Sunghoon widens his eyes, “Ah! So you also hate the dirtbag?” Sunghoon took steps away from him and placed his hands on his shoulders, “Glad we are on the same page.” 
You sighed, fanning yourself with your hands, “Can we go inside now? This summer heat is killing me!” 
Sunghoon turned around and smiled at you, “Of course! But umm…I need to let you know something.” 
You stared at your best friend, “Wha—“ 
The beach house door busted open and the voices of your friends had you turning around and smiling wide. Jake, Jay, Yunjin, Sakura, and Shotaro all shuffled out the door, immediately rushing to you. 
“Where is this new boyfriend you never told us about?!?” they all asked in unison and then their eyes caught Soobin as he stood behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and introducing himself. 
Your friends surrounded the two of you, complimenting how cute he was and how cute the two of you looked together. Even though this was all a lie and an act, you couldn’t stop the slight pink filling your cheeks. 
“Oh!” Yunjin said, pulling her red locks behind her ears, “Sungchan…he…” 
Before she could finish speaking, you saw what she was going to tell you, and saw what Sunghoon was going to tell you. 
Sungchan stepped out of the house with Chaewon at his side. 
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You weren’t sure if pissed off would even be the correct emotion to describe how you were feeling right now staring at your ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend. 
“They showed up together,” Yunjin whispered, “We didn’t even know she was still coming. Apparently, he paid for her at the last minute.” 
The last you heard, Chae wasn’t even speaking to any of us anymore, that included Sungchan, after the truth got out. 
You didn’t speak to either of them as everyone pushed back into the beach house. It was a massive house, super cute and very beachy. Enough rooms to hold at least two people per room. And that’s how you got stuck sharing a bed with Soobin. 
Chaewon piled in with Yunjin and Sakura, while Jake and Sunghoon shared a room, and Sungchan with Shotaro. 
Plus Soobin and you were a “couple”, it really only made sense you’d have to share a room with him. 
The first day was spent heading into town for food for the house and any beach toys or items that any of you all might need. The males took to the kitchen to cook the food that night, while you females sat outside on the sand watching as the sun set until dinner was ready. So far, everyone was getting along, even you and Chae to an extent, even if you two weren’t speaking. 
Once night fell, you stood at the edge of the bed while Soobin climbed in and made himself comfortable, “I can always sleep on the couch,” he said with such calm, “If it would make you feel more comfortable.” 
You quickly shook your head, “No! They would suspect something if you did, it’s just…” You haven’t shared a bed with another male since Sungchan. 
Soobin didn’t need to hear you say it to understand what you were getting at. The scars Sungchan left from his betrayal ran deep within you. 
Soobin smirked, deciding to try and make light, “I don’t bite, YN.” 
You scoffed at him with a roll of your eyes, “Why did I invite you again?” 
Soobin patted your side of the bed with his hand and scooted closer to the edge of his, giving you more space and without hesitation, you climbed in, “I’m here because you need me.” 
You tried hard to not scoff again but failed. You wanted to fight him, but settled on, “Goodnight, fake boyfriend.” 
Soobin was glad you were facing away from him so you couldn’t have seen the look on his face when hearing you say that. It pulled at him in ways he fought hard to push down. It made his trope push to the front parts of his brain in flashing bright letters. He flipped over to his stomach and squished his face into the pillow, using all his strength to push down the thoughts of his trope. 
Tropes were stupid and didn’t exist. It was all fake. All fake. 
He repeated those words over and over again until sleep finally took him. 
The first couple of days went on like normal. On the second day of this vacation a storm hit, so everyone was forced to stay inside the house. Sunghoon brought his Nintendo Switch, so everyone took turns playing Smash Bros and Mario Kart. Soobin dominated everyone in both games. Come to find out, Soobin is very much a gamer and one of his friends is even in a unit. It was very interesting to you and made you want to learn even more about Soobin. 
On day three, the sun and summer heat were back. You and your friends didn’t hesitate to jump into the water to cool off. 
“Jake mentioned a bonfire tonight!” Sakura said, dipping herself down to your chin into the water, “I say we do it! We can go buy stuff for s’mores!” 
“Alcohol too please!” Yunjin groaned, “I need it after how long my last few weeks have been!” 
You agreed. What was a vacation without it? Plus it would calm your nerves about this whole Sungchan situation anyway. 
You looked up to the sand, seeing how Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay seemed to have adopted Soobin into their little circle, tossing around a baseball, all four of them smiling. Your eyes drifted off closer to the house, Shotaro, Sungchan, and Chae stood around the picnic table and grill as Taro grilled the meat for lunch. Your eyes lingered on how close Sungchan and Chae were sitting together, Sungchan turning his head to look out into the water, making eye contact with you. 
He shifted a bit closer to Chae and on instinct, you whipped your head in the other direction, “Soobin!” Sungchan shifted his gaze to Soobin as well. 
Soobin looked away from the other three, giving you a smile that melted your heart, “What is it, my princess?!” he shouted back. You said nothing, just gave him a big smile and waved for him to join you in the water. 
Soobin wasn’t stupid. He saw how close Sungchan was to Chaewon. Soobin could smell the bullshit from miles away. He knew Sungchan only invited Chaewon—or well, begged her—back on this trip all because of him. Sungchan trusted Shotaro with this information thinking he wasn’t going to slip it up to everyone else, especially Soobin. 
“I tried to talk him out of it,” Taro had said, “He kept saying it was just to make sure the friend group was made whole again, but I know that isn’t the case. He was so hung up on getting YN back, but after meeting you…I think he did it to try and stick it where it hurts. Or make her jealous. He won’t accept she’s over him.” 
Pitiful. 
Soobin tossed the ball over to Jake, “I’m going to jump in the water with YN, you all want to come too?” Soobin had to admit, the one good thing that came out of this trip was gaining these guys' friendship. 
Jay was practically already tearing his tank top off, “Hell yeah! Let's cool off, this sun is brutal!” 
Soobin followed the others down the beach, gripping the ends of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. 
Your heart nearly stopped. Your eyes drag along down his body. Trailing back up over his abs, chest, shoulders, and arms. Craving the metal image in detail of every curve of his biceps. He was beautiful. So beautiful. 
Soobin was now in the water and standing directly in front of you, a smirk on his face as he leaned close to your face, being inches apart, “Close your mouth, you’re drooling.” he whispered. 
You didn’t realize your mouth was open and immediately closed it shut. Soobin stood up straight and sank down into the water, his hands finding yours as he was chest-deep, gently pulling at your hands to lower yourself too. 
It honestly took a lot for Soobin to keep his eyes locked on your face. Your body was gorgeous, all of you were. He couldn’t and wouldn’t deny that. Mostly with the way the purple bikini complimented your skin and the curves of your body. He did take a few glances down to your breasts and shot his eyes right back up to your face. He wasn’t ashamed of looking, you were just gawking at him a few minutes ago. 
Once you were at eye level with Soobin, his hands left your hands and found their place at your waist, pulling your body to him, “I hope this is okay,” he whispered, “Just trying to play my part.” 
It was natural at how you wrapped your arms around his neck, how you seated yourself on his lap and wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your chest to his. It felt so natural that it scared you. Even with the cool ocean water warping around your bodies, you still felt way too hot and prayed that if your face was red, everyone would assume it was from the hot summer sun. 
“No, it’s all okay,” you whispered back, pulling him closer to you, leaving your bodies completely flushed against one another, “We both have to play this part.” 
“Hey!” Jake chuckled, “What you lovebirds whispering about over there!” 
Soobin chuckled back, tilting his head back to look at Jake, “I’m telling her all the positions I’m going to put her through tonight!” He teased, earning Jake to scrunch his nose. 
“Man, we don’t want to know that!” Jake held up his index fingers into an X, “Keep that to yourselves!” 
Soobin just smirked, wrapping his arms around your frame, “Hey man, you asked!” 
You couldn’t help but smile at them, at all of them, really. You were truly happy that Soobin was fitting in with your friends and they all seemed to love him. Sunghoon—even with his nasty side eye at the two of you—was warming up to Soobin little by little the last few days. You listened to them all banter back and forth and you couldn’t help but wish that this all could last past this week. 
Soobin then touched his cheek to yours, squishing your faces together, “Dude, you’re just jealous that I have a pretty girlfriend!” 
Your friends collectively all “ooooo” at Jake from Soobin’s diss, causing Jake to smirk and start splashing water at everyone. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” Sungchan said suddenly, standing at the edge of where the water meets the sand. His arms were crossed and eyes locked onto Soobin, “Taro finished lunch, let’s all eat.” 
After lunch, everyone headed back into the house to take turns showering and then headed into town for alcohol and items for s’mores. 
Once the sun started to settle over the horizon, it was time for the bonfire. 
The owners who rented out the house to you and your friends for the week really knew what the people wanted. The firepit was beautiful. A beautiful smooth white stone was built around the pit and perfectly carved benches sat around it. Sunghoon and Yunjin were the ones most excited about the s’mores, being the ones to poke the soft squishy balls of sweetness onto the metal rods and hold them over the fire, and passing them around to everyone once they were burnt perfectly and smooshed between chocolate and graham crackers. 
Jay sat off to Soobin’s right on another bench with his acoustic guitar in his arms, playing a pretty tune that matched the soft crashes of the waves and the breeze of the wind. You swayed back and forth slightly, not wanting to spill any of your beer. 
“Having a good time?” Soobin asked, smiling down at you as he sipped his beer, “You look like you are.” 
You nodded, leaning further a bit to your right to nudge your shoulder against his, “I am,” you lift the can to your lips, taking a sip, “You?” 
Soobin glanced over to the firepit and took another sip, “I am,” his eyes shot up to Sungchan, catching him staring back, “But Sungchan has been eyeing me down since before lunch. It’s making it hard for me to really enjoy myself right now.” 
Soobin honestly was enjoying his time here so far. It was a vacation after all and having to play the part of your fake boyfriend wasn’t difficult either. The only hard thing was the glare Soobin always felt from Sungchan. He understood why, he had something the other wanted. It wasn’t Soobin’s fault the male fucked everything up. Nor was it his fault that you were completely over Sungchan to begin with. Soobin truly believed if you still had feelings for Sungchan, you wouldn’t have even come on this trip. 
You carefully and quickly passed your eyes over Sungchan, catching how hard he stared at Soobin. Even when he lifted the beer can to sip and drank. His eyes never left Soobin. You also noticed how close he was sitting to Chae. Chae just stared off into the distance, hands clasped together. You couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t want to be there. 
You finished off your beer and tossed it into the plastic bag at your feet, “I’m sorry he’s being that way towards you,” and you really truly meant it. Soobin didn’t deserve it, “I wish I could make him stop.” 
Soobin also finished off his beer and tossed the can with yours, keeping his eyes locked on Sungchan. You finally decided to let Sungchan know that you saw him staring. Glaring at him with your jaw locked and eyes narrowed. It didn’t take long for him to notice your stares and for him to scoot closer to Chae, dropping his hand to her thigh. 
You rolled your eyes and faced Soobin, “He really thinks doing that will do anything but piss me off.” 
Soobin chuckled at your words because it’s true, the man truly thought getting closer to Chaewon was going to change your attitude towards him. Sungchan pulled a smirk at Soobin, thinking he won. 
Oh, but isn’t that further from the truth. 
“Want to piss him off back?” Soobin asked, turning to face you. 
You raised a brow, “And how exactly, do you plan to piss him off?” 
Soobin said nothing as he moved in, connecting his lips to yours. Your surprise must have been way too obvious because Soobin was now tracing his lips from yours and down your jaw and to your ear, whispering, “Play along.”
You knew what he was doing. Knew what it would cause with Sungchan. Knew all of it and yet once his lips found yours, you kissed him back something fierce. Both your eyes flutter closed and embrace this moment. 
You expected just a few kisses and then Soobin pulling away, but the longer your lips lingered, the more you prayed he wouldn’t move away. Soobin did, in fact, was only planning to plant a few kisses and then pull away and go back to being normal. But…
He couldn’t stop. 
His brows furrowed as he leaned into you more. His hand reached up and cupped your neck, his thumb rubbing softly against your jawline. 
What was he doing? Why couldn’t he stop kissing you? Why was his free hand now reaching for yours and his fingers intertwined with yours? Squeezing your hand hard. 
He slowly pushed his tongue past his lips, licking your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You parted your lips without question, letting his tongue slide in and explore your cavern. The soft groan that escaped his mouth sent chills down your body. If he didn’t have his hand placed on your neck keeping you pressed to him, you would have long fallen over. 
Kissing you felt…natural. It felt like his lips were always meant to kiss yours. That…he was meant to be here with you. Soobin had come to the realization that you both were making out in front of everyone and he did not give a single fuck. Sungchan no longer mattered. Pissing him off no longer mattered. The only thing that did was your lips against his. Your hand in his. You. Only you. 
His heart pulled to you. It was chanting your name over and over and over. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. He felt the little red string of fate tie itself to you. His trope rang in the back of his mind. 
“Hey!” Someone finally snapped, “Get a room, love birds!” To both your and Soobin’s surprise, it was Sunghoon who said it. 
Soobin smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. His heart was racing and he was fucking terrified to open his eyes and look at you. Scared at what he might find. 
But he opened them anyway as he pulled his head away from yours. First, he stared at your swollen kissed lips, then slowly looked up to your eyes. One look and it was all it took for everything in the world to make sense. One look in your eyes and he knew. 
It was you. It was always going to be you.
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You thought going to bed that night would have been awkward. Why wouldn’t it? You and Soobin made out in front of all your friends in a play to piss off Sungchan, it should have been awkward to go to bed that night. Except it wasn’t. You crawled into bed next to Soobin like it was a routine. He rolled onto his side facing away from you and fell asleep quickly as you did the same.
You oddly felt at peace. You barely knew him and only knew a handful of things about him that you’ve learned on this trip so far, but you couldn’t help that pull to him. And as you drifted off to sleep you repeated the thought over and over on how easy all this was with him. How from the moment you first laid eyes on him in that bus you felt that pull. You weren’t sure what to make of this, mostly when everything would be coming to an end once this week was over. 
When you woke up Soobin was already out of bed. After getting up, brushing your teeth, and throwing on your swimsuit and beach clothes, you trailed into the living room, everyone sat around somewhere in the kitchen or living eating breakfast. 
“About time you got up!” Sunghoon teased, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth, “It’s almost eleven am!” 
You raised a brow at your best friend, “Yet you guys are still eating breakfast? When it’s literally lunchtime?” 
“Hey,” Jake groaned, whipping his head up from his plate and leaning against Sunghoon, “Never too late or early for a breakfast meal!” You couldn’t argue with that, “Besides,” Jake continued, “Soobin mentioned for dinner to head out into town and try one of the restaurants, so we decided on a later breakfast.” 
“Makes sense,” you mumbled, looking around the room, “Speaking of, where is he?” 
“Your boy toy already went down to the water,” Sungchan murmured, poking his fork at his eggs, “Missed him by ten minutes.” 
You narrowed your eyes down at him, “Boy toy?” you scoffed, whipping your head away with a roll of your eyes, “Funny shit to say coming from the likes of you!” 
Not another second was wasted on him as you quickly made your way to the front door and opened it. 
“YN!” he called for you, but you didn’t turn back around as you slammed the door behind you. 
Sungchan stood from the table, just causing both Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to stand on their feet from the couch. Shotaro was even at Sungchan’s side, placing his hands on his shoulders. 
“Let go, Taro!” Sungchan snapped. 
“Nah, keep him there,” Jake gave him a narrowed look, “You need to cut this shit out, Chan.” 
Sungchan opened his mouth to fight, but Chaewon stopped it, “Chan, that is enough! Seriously!” All eyes went to her, “You need to accept the fact that YN has moved on and she is happy! I’ve never seen her this happy before…” Chaewon looked down at her plate, “I don’t know what you were hoping for with this trip, but you really need to know your place.” Without another word, Chae picked up her plate and rushed into her bedroom. 
You kicked off your sandals at the edge of the steps to the house and stepped down onto the warm sand. Hovering your hand over your eyes to help see down the way better. Damn, the sun is so bright. 
You found Soobin standing in the water facing towards the infinite ocean. His shoes and tee shirt were discarded at the edge of the beach right before where the water touched the sand. The waves crashed against his waist and the breeze blew his brown hair to the side. The sun illuminates his perfect honey skin, outlining the muscles of his back. Even from his back, he was a sight to see. So beautiful. 
Soobin woke up earlier than everyone today and decided to be the one to make breakfast today. He had to admit, he was using it as a distraction. A way to get him out of the same bed with you. You looked so peaceful while you slept and it took everything in Soobin to not pull you toward him and wrap his arms around you. So he forced himself out of bed instead and made everyone breakfast. It wasn’t really early, the night before obviously made everyone sleep in a bit longer, but Soobin pushed the idea of trying out a restaurant later that night, ate his breakfast, and quickly left the house. 
He needed to get out of that house and put more distance away from you. Not because he wanted to be away from you, but because he couldn’t think straight around you. Not after last night. The feeling of your lips lingered on his. The touch of your skin in the palm of his hand as he held you close to him. The way your fingers fit perfectly together with his. 
It all rang in his head. Along with his damned trope. Soulmates didn’t exist. It was just a ploy to keep the population in control. To give the people something to believe in. It wasn’t real. 
Yet Soobin knew he felt that red string of fate tied his heart to yours. He might not know what your trope is, and frankly, he’s terrified to find out. What if your tropes don’t match? Or what if your trope is whatever Soobin isn’t? He’s never once in his life ever thought about these questions. He’s spent those years after receiving his trope not believing in a damn thing about it. But you changed everything. One look in your eyes after that kiss and he was on his knees. 
Soobin guessed the whole reason he needed to be officially alone right now was to sort out his thoughts and decide whether he wanted to accept his fate. Regardless of what he decided to do, you now had him wrapped around your finger and he was stupid if he’d let you go once this trip was over. 
He heard shuffles of sand and already knew it was you standing at the edge of the water behind him. After his heart was tied to you, he swore he could hear your heart beating. He knows the sound of your heart. 
You knew he knew you were there, you couldn’t explain how, but you just knew. You took one more step, letting the ocean take up to your ankles. You kept your eyes locked to his back, your heart racing. 
Soobin chuckled, “It’s just me, YN, no need to be nervous.” 
You opened your mouth to say something, but stopped the moment Soobin turned around slightly to look at you. The way the sun was shining down on him…the look of endearment and the soft smile he was giving you. Your eyes widened, the red string fully tying your heart to his. 
“Sunshine!” the acolyte cheered, her hands clasping together and smiling wide down at you, “Your trope is sunshine! How wonderful!” Wonderful? What the fuck kind of trope is sunshine? What the fuck does that even mean? 
You had hope for your trope. You really did. You spent all that time as a child counting down the days until your eighteenth birthday and marched right to the church to receive yours. But the moment your trope was in your grasp, everything failed you. You stopped believing. Yes, you tried experimenting with your trope, but it failed you every time. 
You tried meeting people with sunshine personalities, tried going to bright sunny places, and each time, it failed. You gave up and believed soulmates didn’t exist. Or even if they did, you didn’t have one. 
You held that statement as true until just now, staring into Soobin’s eyes. 
The world finally all made sense to you. Sunshine. Soobin was sunshine. He’s your sunshine. Your trope wasn’t about the sun or the personality of someone. It was both. It was Soobin. The embodiment of sunshine with the sun shining down brightly on him. 
You could hear his heart beating in your ears, its steady pace mixed with a hint of nervousness. And he told you he had no reason to be nervous? 
He turned fully toward you, walking up and closing the gap between the two of you. He lifted his hands from the cool water and rested them on your biceps, the corners of his lips curling up more. 
“Soobin,” you whispered, “I—“ 
The echoes of your friends' laughter filled the summer air, each of them pushing out of the house and in their swimwear. Jake held fishing poles in his hands, “Soobin!” he yelled, “Come spend time with the bros!” 
Sunghoon held up a tacklebox of fishing items, “Yeah! Jay is bringing his expensive alcohol too!” 
Jay was now holding up his bottles of whiskey, “I’m being forced to bring them, but I’ll share nevertheless.” 
Soobin’s smile grew more and it only made your heart flutter. This was his real smile, not the fake one he’s been acting out with the last couple of days. This was his true show of happiness. 
Soobin glanced away from your friends and saw the look of confusion on your face. Soobin knew that look without even having to ask you what was wrong. He cupped your face and placed his lips to your forehead, “We can talk later, okay?” 
You nodded, quickly wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him close, resting your head on his chest, “Have fun stealing my friends from me.”
Soobin chuckled again, and leaned into your hug, holding you against him, “Too bad, they are my friends now,” You went to protest, but he was pulling away and splashing you with water, “I’ll see you later, okay?” 
You said nothing as you watched him run out of the water, stopping to grab his shirt and shoes and jogging up to Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. Shotaro and Sungchan slowly followed behind them. 
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The rest of the day became busier than you were hoping for. Once the boys were back from fishing and everyone showered off the sand and salt water, it was time to hit up the restaurant. 
It was within walking distance from the house, so Taro was really big on saving up everyone’s gas and suggested just walking. No one was against it. 
But that meant moving in a pack. Everyone surrounded you and Soobin and it left no chances to talk. Even after dinner, Yunjin and Sakura wanted to stop for ice cream, and again, no one rejected it. 
Soobin was kind enough to buy your ice cream for you and even shared some of his. It only made the need for you to talk to him run so much deeper. This couldn’t just be the behavior of acting like your fake boyfriend…was it?
Little did you know Soobin was also dying to talk to you as well. He tried to find any opportunity to pull you to the side and talk but the odds just weren’t in his favor. 
But he was nervous and the closer the beach house came back into view the more his heart pounded. It only got worse once he was alone with you in the shared bedroom. 
You looked exhausted. Soobin definitely was. It was a busy and exhausting day. Not just because of your friends, but the endless thoughts that circulated both your minds. It was hard to tell if talking about whatever this was, was a good idea at the moment. 
But you also knew it couldn’t wait. 
Soobin sat down on the bed, facing himself toward you. You tried to fight back a yawn as you climbed into the bed. He tilted his head, “Do you want to talk? We could always talk in the morning, YN.” 
Hearing those words honestly made you feel better. It meant not having to address everything right here and now but also gave proof that Soobin still wanted to have that conversation. You stopped fighting the yawn and nodded, pulling the covers back and laying down on your side, facing away from him. 
The bed shifted as Soobin turned the lamp off, the room now being lit by the moonlight that peeked through the curtains of the windows. The bed shifted more and you could hear Soobin’s heart, “Can…” he sighs, “Can I hold you?” 
“Yes,” you replied quickly. Already scooting yourself to the middle of the bed, your back meeting Soobin’s chest. He pushed his arm underneath the pillow and wrapped it around your chest and hand linking to your shoulder while the other hung over your waist, his hand resting on your tummy. 
Holding you was everything he could have hoped it would be. Your body is the perfect fit against his. You shifted a little in hopes of getting closer, only to rub your ass against his crotch. His fingers at your shoulder gripped your shirt while the other squeezed your tummy, “YN,” he said in a soft warning tone, “Please don’t move.” 
You didn’t mean to grind against him, you just wanted to be more comfortable and closer to him. But now with the growing hardness against your ass and the sound of his heart racing in your ears, your own pool of desire is raised. 
Soobin was now squeezing your frame tightly, using all his strength to not start grinding his cock against you. To keep himself under control. But it was so damn hard when he could hear how your heart was fluttering. Could feel how your body was now shaking. He squeezed you tighter, his arm squeezing your breasts and a soft gasp let your lips. It was enough to send a chill down his spine and for his hips to buck without his permission. 
You softly giggle, “And you told me not to move.” Your teasing just then flipped a switch with him. 
Soobin was smirking and tucking his face into your neck, pressing his now hard cock against your ass, “Maybe if you’d stop wiggling, I wouldn’t either,” he whispered to your skin. The brush of his lips as he talked had goosebumps raised on your skin. 
You rocked your hips, grinding on his clothed cock, “Stop rubbing against me, and I’ll stop rubbing against you.” 
A chuckle left his mouth but he didn’t stop moving and neither did you. The two of you kept moving, rocking your hips back and forth against each other. Soobin’s hand on your belly moved lower and lower as time progressed. You’ve done things like this before with other guys, same with Soobin and females. But with the way you both were breathing, how in sync your hearts were beating, the feeling of being this close…It made everything ten times better. 
Was it because…it had to be. 
Soobin pushed his fingers down to the band of your shorts, slipping his fingers underneath it, “Can I touch you?” he whispered in your ear, placing a kiss on the shell of it, “Please, can I touch you?” 
You nodded, placing your hand on top of his and pushing it down, guiding him slowly to where you need him the most right now. And once his fingers cupped your heat, you flung your head back onto his shoulder. 
“Shit YN,” he breathed, “So wet, and I haven’t even fully touched you yet.” 
You lifted your leg up and over his legs, giving him more access to you. His index and ring fingers spread your lips apart, the middle slowly rubbing at your clit. 
You softly moan, arching your back. But Soobin’s hold on you with his other arm around your chest kept you from moving too much, holding you tightly to his chest. 
You started once again rocking your hips, doing it in hopes he would move faster, and slid his fingers into you. Soobin wasn’t stupid, he could tell you wanted more, “What do you want?” he whispered, biting at the shell of your ear, “Tell me what you want, baby.” 
“L-lower,” you whimper, “Faster, please.” 
Soobin hummed, sliding his middle finger to your entrance, “Is this what you want, baby?” 
You nodded, bucking your hips. Soobin smirked and slowly pushed his index and middle fingers in. You both let out a breathy groan as his fingers slid in all the way to his knuckles, your cunt squeezing around them. 
Soobin pushed them in and out, in and out, starting at a slow pace and slowly picking up speed. Your body was shaking against his, his cock growing more needier by the second. 
He wanted you. Oh, good gods he wanted you. 
“Baby,” he shifted a bit, his body slightly towering over yours, “Can I have you?” 
You nodded frantically, your hands reaching for him and pulling him into a kiss, “Please,” you whispered against his lips. 
Soobin completely shifted himself over you, hovering just the right amount to keep his fingers filling you while his other hand reached for the ends of your shirt, “I want this off.” 
You smirked, “Take it off me yourself.” 
Soobin chuckled on your lips, removing his fingers from your cunt and sliding his hands up your body, taking your shirt with them. 
It didn’t take long for all of your and Soobin’s clothing to be thrown in all different directions of the room, leaving you skin to skin. 
There was something so beautiful about being connected to you like this. The way your skin felt on his. How your bare legs wrapped around his waist and lips kissed down his neck. It was something Soobin wanted to be painted into his memory forever. It wasn’t even just about the sex you were about to have. It was all about you. 
Soobin couldn’t stop the gasp that let his mouth as his cock slid deep inside you, the tip kissing beautifully at your cervix. He held you tightly to him as he started moving, keeping one hand gripping your thigh, “Fuck, YN. YN. YN. YN.” Your name chanted from his lips. It flowed out so easily. Like your name belonged in his mouth. 
“Soobin,” you whispered, pulling your face from his neck and laying down on the pillow, cupping his face between your hands, his pretty brown eyes staring back at you, “I think…no, I know it. You’re my soulmate.” 
Hearing those words had Soobin melting. His face fell to your neck, hand squeezing your thigh tighter, “And you’re mine,” he whispered back, “Oh gods you’re mine.” 
With all your strength, you rolled him over onto his back, straddling him. You took his hands in yours and you rode him, squeezing his hands with each roll of your hips. You don’t know what came over you, but hearing how you were his, it did something, “Say it again, please.” 
Soobin squeezed your hands tighter, “You’re mine.” 
“Again.” 
He smiled, “You’re mine. You’re my soulmate. Mine. Mine. Mine.” 
The words came out so easily for someone who didn’t believe in them at first. But looking at you like this, all on top of him, riding his cock, how could he not believe in it? Your hearts were now tied together. He belonged to you. You belonged to him. And he had no problem chanting out those words until he was cumming deep inside you. Continued chanting them as he flipped you onto your back and his fingers once again found their home inside you, chanting them as you came around them. 
Soobin used to curse his trope, but now all he could do was thank it. It gave him you. 
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“We’ve been out here for an hour,” Sunghoon groaned, throwing his head back over the chair, hands gripping the fishing pole, “Jake, why did we have to come fishing again?” 
Jake glared over at him, “Because we had massive luck yesterday. Figured we would today as well,” Jake shrugged and glanced back out into the water, “Not my fault you’re being crabby today.” 
Sunghoon groaned again as he lifted back up his head, tilting it to the side to look at Soobin, “Try sharing a room next door to them at night and tell me if you wouldn’t be crabby.” 
Sunghoon’s words went in one ear and out the other, he was too busy staring down at a text message from you. But Sunghoon’s clearing his voice brought him back to the guys around him, “What?” 
Jake scoffed with a smirk, “You know what. The whole house heard the two of you last night.” 
Soobin grinned as he shifted his gaze off to the water, “And that’s my problem how?” he said in a teasing voice. 
You and Soobin continued your sexual activities after the first round. Neither of you could get enough of the other and eventually, you both stopped caring to keep quiet. It was just unfortunate for those in the house. 
Jay nudged Soobin’s shoulder, “Am I going to have to buy some earplugs tonight?” he joked. 
Soobin shrugged and smirked at Jay, “Possibly, we do still have one more full day left to cause some chaos.” 
“Please don’t,” Shotaro chuckled, “I enjoy my sleep.” 
The males all laughed and continued their teasing, except Soobin noticed Sungchan being awfully quiet and staring down at the docks they all sat on. 
Sunghoon nudged Soobin, leaning closer to him and whispering, “I’m actually really glad you and her have something. She seems so happy being with you.” 
Soobin knew that Sunghoon was aware that at first, this was all an act. So honestly hearing those words made him happy. You and Sunghoon had talked with each other during breakfast this morning, so Soobin more than likely knew you confessed what was actually happening now. Soobin opened his mouth to reply back to Sunghoon, but a loud scoff following a chuckle had everyone turning their heads towards the direction it came from. 
“Happy? She’s happy to be with you?” Sungchan laughed, turning to face Soobin directly, “You think I buy that? That you aren’t just some random guy she met on the bus that day? This is all an act. I know YN! Better than—“ 
“She’s my soulmate,” was all Soobin said. He had no desire or even the need to confirm nor deny Sungchan’s suspicions, “She’s my soulmate and I think you need to accept that and learn your place.” 
Everyone fell silent, the only sound was the waves crashing against the wooden columns of the dock and the wind blowing past. 
“Look man,” Soobin sighed, “I don’t know what you were hoping for with this vacation, but I would really appreciate it if you backed off my girl,” Soobin looked back out to the water, gripping at the handle of his fishing pole, “You’ve hurt her enough, let it go.” 
Soobin was fueled with anger, so distracted he had no clue the line of his pole was being tugged, “SOOBIN!!” Jake yelled standing up to his feet and pointing at the ripples of the water, “YOU CAUGHT ONE! REEL THE LINE BACK!!!” 
With the excitement of possibly catching a fish, Soobin threw his anger out the window, deciding it wasn’t worth worrying over Sungchan. Everyone was now aware that you were tied to him, and that’s all Soobin cared about at this moment. 
Besides, of course, pulling his first fish of the day on the docks and cheering along with his new friends, “I have to show YN!” Sunghoon said, pointing at Soobin to lift up the fish and smile wide for a photo, sending it directly to you. 
You sat on the couch with Yunjin between your legs on the floor in the middle of braiding her hair when Sunghoon sent you the cutest photo you’ve ever seen of your soulmate holding up his first catch of the day. It was adorable. You couldn't help but laugh and save the photo to your gallery, “Want to see the fish Soobin just caught?” you asked her and the other girls, turning your phone around to show them. 
“He really is a cutie!” Sakura clapped her hands, “Fate was really on your side when picking out your soulmate!” 
You didn’t even have to tell the girls that information, they just kind of guessed at it. Your smile wasn’t doing much justice for you. You’ve been smitten ever since your first kiss with Soobin, “Fate really was on my side, wasn’t it?” 
You felt Chaewon’s eyes on you, a small sad smile on her face. The two of you have barely spoken to each other this entire trip and you could tell since the night of the bonfire, she’s had words she kept locked in her throat. 
“Hey!” Yunjin sat up, her long red hair falling between your fingers, “The boys are still busy fishing, why don’t we go shopping? There’s a cute surf shop down the beach towards the pier I want to check out!” 
Everyone agreed. As the girls stood up and rushed out the door, Chaewon gripped your wrist, “YN, can we talk first?” 
You nodded, slowly turning to face her, “What is it?” 
She let go of your wrist, “I am truly sorry! For everything!” You blinked at her, not expecting this conversation right off the bat, “Chan and I were drunk, we weren’t thinking straight. It only happened that one time and I promise you that. Chan got confused about his feelings, and that’s how it blew up as badly as it did. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but Chan said he would take care of it and I was stupid to believe him on that,” she reached for your hands then and you let her, “I removed myself from our group because I thought you’d hate me. Sunghoon said you needed time and I wanted to respect that. But I miss our friendship, I miss you. I came on this trip wanting to fix our friendship, not because Sungchan told me to.” 
You had to admit, you also missed her and your friendship with her. This trip hasn’t been completely the same because of the distance it put between the two of you. You already knew Sungchan was just trying to pull some fast moves, but Chaewon was being true from the beginning. 
So you hugged her tightly, “I forgive you. I’ve missed you too so please don’t run away from me anymore, okay?” Chae nodded, hugging you tighter, “Now, let’s go get caught up with Sakura and Yunjin.” 
With a giggle, you and Chae rushed out the door. 
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Before you knew it, Soobin was packing up your backs into the backseat of his car as you hugged your girlfriends tightly, “We need a girl's day soon!” You said, “I’ll kick Sunghoon out of the apartment for a day.” 
Sunghoon sighed, crossing his arms, “You act like I don’t have a soulmate, other friends, or even Soobin I could hang out with for the day.” 
Soobin wrapped his arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders, “Yeah, babe,” he said sticking his tongue out at you, “I’ll just steal your best friend.” 
You glared at your now boyfriend, “You’d steal my best friend from me?” 
Soobin shrugged, “If you’re going to kick him out, ya.” 
You rolled your eyes and continued hugging your friends, deciding to fight your mate and best friend later at the apartment. 
After all goodbye had been said, everyone piled into their own cars and drove off, leaving the beach house in the distance. 
Soobin reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing the plush, “Did you enjoy yourself?” 
You nodded, leaning back in the seat, “I really did,” you shifted your eyes to him, “Wasn’t expecting to gain my soulmate out of it though.” 
Soobin chuckled, rubbing his thumb against your skin, “You and I both. By the way,” he glanced at you quickly, then back at the road, “What was your trope?” 
“Sunshine,” You whispered, “It was sunshine.” 
He smiled, biting at the corners of his lip, “Sunshine, huh.” 
You sat up and leaned over the center console, poking your finger in his dimple, “And what was yours, my sunshine?” 
Soobin took your hand in his, “Fake relationship,” your eyes widened at his trope, “Yeah,” he chuckled, “It wasn’t exactly the best.” 
“You must have been freaking out when I asked you to be my fake boyfriend for the week, I’m so sorry!” 
Soobin shook his head, “I…I didn’t believe in tropes or even soulmates. I thought it was weird and a coincidence. I’ve had many fake relationships before, so I thought this was no different,” he lifted your hand to his lips, playing a few soft kisses to the palm of your hand, “But you changed everything, obviously.” 
You smiled, “It’s funny you say that, because I didn’t believe in tropes of soulmates either.” 
Soobin quickly looked at you again, then back at the road, “Sunghoon literally has a soulmate!?” 
You sat back in the seat and stared out the window, “Trust me, I know. Right in front of me and I still didn’t believe a lick of it.” 
Soobin smirks, “Do you believe in it now?” 
You giggled, squeezing his hand, “I do. How could I not when I have my own pocket full of sunshine?”
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—p.tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns
@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi
@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty
@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez
@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs
@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee
@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee
@teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee
@hee-lvrr @1309zip @moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s
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draconic-desire · 9 months ago
Text
🔶 Rex Dracorum 🔶
Yandere Zhongli x Reader
At this year’s Lantern Rite, you happen to cross paths with a dragon, much to the chagrin of the one who holds you in the palm of his hand. The result has you trapped between them.
Warnings: Very brief mention of nsfw at the end, implied kidnapping, forced relationship, yandere behavior. Basically my version of what would have happened if Zhongli and Neuvillette actually met at the Rite…
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Despite the contract irrevocably binding you to the Lord of Geo, its progenitor allows you a surprising number of freedoms.
Sometimes, you can pretend like he didn’t steal your life away with a simple signature. That he didn’t back you into a corner, making you decide between two evils: to be his wife and mate, or watch as everything and everyone you ever cherished suffer the wrath of the rock.
Why me?, you would plead aloud, desperate for any loophole, any escape from your contract. Why a mortal geologist with only a few mora to her name?
You’re one of the few who appreciates the rock over the gem, my precious lapis, he’d reply cryptically. Always riddles and non-answers, layered statements garnished with polished words.
If you could reverse time, you would have refused his invitation for tea that first time. Little did you know that each of those subsequent meetings, each time you spent listening to his fantastical tales shared between steaming cups, you were digging your grave a foot deeper, his hold on you constricting an inch further.
Perhaps if you had rejected him outright, he would have viewed you not as a unique mineral, but as another insignificant pebble in a sea of endless, colorless sediment. As no more than the dirt beneath his boot.
Instead, you must seek refuge from him and his stifling, suffocating presence in the times between the cracks, like now, as you take in the transformed Liyue Harbor, adorned with lights and colors brighter than any precious stone.
Hailing from Liyue, the Lantern Rite has always been a time of celebration and reflection for you and your family. Now it represents one of the only times the invisible shackles are lifted from your frame.
Although Zhongli does initially insist on walking you through the harbor, arms interlocked as he parades you around while monologuing about Liyue’s rich history, he permits you to venture off on your own and explore while he entertains his associates or work clients during the day. Although you know there are constantly eyes on you, usually a certain grumbling yaksha, this precious time almost feels like normal.
Today, you’ve decided on a stroll through Qiaoyang Village. The quiet, leisurely existence that its inhabitants have adopted fills you with a rare tranquility. Walking at a slow pace among the many street vendors, the scent of tea leaves, fresh mint and spices, permeates your nose, beckoning you forward. Your tea stocks at home are getting a bit low, you mentally remark, and having some of your own gives you an excuse to occasionally opt out of the times Zhongli wants to drag you out again.
Your mind set, you turn to find yourself a fraction of a second from running straight into a wall of boxes.
No—looking down, you spot a pair of black and gold boots, leading up to black trousers and elegant blue robes. A pair of matching gloves holds the boxes in place. There’s actually a person carrying all of those parcels.
Due to the boxes obscuring their view, they notice you too late—with startlingly quick reflexes, they manage to avoid running into you, but given their sudden halt mid-step, the boxes in their arms go toppling to the ground.
You gasp at your stupidity and immediately drop to your knees to maintain the stranger’s fallen goods. Embarrassed at your carelessness, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t see you—”
A gloved hand rests on your own scrambling fingers, calming your frantic attempt to organize the items. “No apologies necessary. I am the one at fault for not being more alert.”
Turning to face the stranger, who is now crouching beside you, the air in your lungs extinguishes as your eyes lock.
Undoubtedly, this man is one of the most handsome individuals you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Long, silver hair cascades around his sharp, defined features: almond eyes with striking lilac irises, high cheekbones and full lips, a tall, muscular frame clearly sculpted with subtle muscle. His attire—sapphire robes, adorned with lighter accents and intricate whirls of ocean blues—is clearly of expensive taste and sophistication. The jabot and dewdrop pendant around his neck suggest he’s Fontainian, perhaps associated with the court there.
You must look like a gaping fish out of water, for the man helps you to your feet with a kind smile. “I must have given you quite the startle. Are you feeling alright?”
His deep baritone rings through you, similar yet so unlike the proud voice of the Geo Archon you’ve grown accustomed to. Blinking twice, you regain your bearings and pray to the Seven—excluding one in particular, who would be very unhappy with you—that the man didn’t notice you gawking at him. “Ah, yes, I’m fine. Again, I’m very sorry for being so distracted. If any of your items are damaged, I’m more than happy to pay for replacements.”
“That is quite generous of you, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary. You see, these boxes merely contain tea, nothing more.” To prove his claim, he bends down to retrieve a box that opened when it landed, revealing simple, sealed bags of leaves.
Your shoulders sag in relief. It truly seems like no damage was done. “Well, at least let me help you wrap them up together. I know a trick that will make carrying them all much easier.”
The white-haired male nods, followed by a subtle smile. “That’s very kind of you. I accept your proposal.”
After a quick stop at another stall to buy twine, you start to work on binding the boxes together. You count more than ten in total—who needs that much tea, anyway? The amount of it is almost comical, but you can’t bring yourself to actually poke fun of the man. Not when he’s looking at you with such an endearing smile. Like he’s seeing you, not just the wife of the Lord of Geo.
Your face heats. “So,” you start, trying to focus on your knots and ties and not the stranger’s eyes boring into you, “can I ask why you’re carrying so much tea?”
“Well, I originally was transporting some goods back to Fontaine for my friends and colleagues, but I decided to partake myself. It was buy ten boxes get half off,” he replies, as calmly as if he were stating an obvious fact.
You can’t help it. A giggle escapes your lips as you quirk your head to the side. The innocence with which this man admitted to being scammed endears you greatly, and you can’t help but play along with him. “You know, that’s a pretty good deal.”
He smiles, then, a subtle thing paired with a tinge of pink along his cheeks. “I thought so, too.”
Your smile grows in tandem. Speaking to others, especially other men, without your husband hovering above the conversation is quite rare for you these days—though you have no doubt you’ll be questioned about it later once Xiao reports the encounter to him, if he hasn’t already—
A hand rests on your shoulder, the landing a bit too heavy and the grip a bit too tight. “Ah, my beautiful wife. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The sound of Zhongli’s voice sends a jump through your bones. Archons, you knew you were being followed, but you’ve never been located and corralled this quickly. A flame of indignation, which has long since dimmed from an inferno to a mere flicker, sparks in your chest. You’re rightly upset that your time has been cut short, and even before you learned this interesting and undeniably attractive foreigner’s name.
You look up at Zhongli and open your mouth to explain the situation, that you were merely helping the other man secure his absurd amount of tea boxes, but the words die in your throat.
The Lord of Geo’s amber gaze is sharp and deadly as stone, directed at the other man. His jaw tightens and he grinds out, “Neuvillette.”
The silver-haired man’s eyes narrow as his gaze roams from the hand on your shoulder to meet Zhongli’s glower. “Rex.”
Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back and forth between the two men who look two moments away from ripping each other to ribbons. It’s obvious they know each other, and the name Neuvillette rings a bell of recognition in your mind. But what really concerns you is the term by which Neuvillette called Zhongli. To your knowledge, no one refers to your captor as Rex Lapis except Xiao, who knows of his draconic—
Oh. Oh.
The realization slams into you with a wave of clarity as your head slowly turns toward the other man. The silver, slitted pupils, the shimmering blue horns and pointed ears, the aura of power and hydro around him…
Horrified, your mouth falls open as you truly take in this man, Neuvillette.
No, not a man. The restored leader of Fontaine, the Hydro Sovereign.
You’ve been casually conversing with not only a dragon, but also the Chief Justice of the Region of Justice. One of the original powerhouses of Teyvat, from which the Seven gained their gnoses. And, given the death of the Hydro Archon, there is currently only one in existence restored to their full power.
“Shit,” you breathe, a bit too loudly. Purple and gold irises snap to you in sync, one filled with thinly veiled concern and questioning and the other with building anger and possession.
On cue, Zhongli snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you taut against his side. You swear you feel the hint of claws digging into your skin through the fabric of your dress, the remnants of his exuvia form.
“I had hoped to avoid meeting you here,” Zhongli states, eyes roaming over the scene, the scattered tea boxes, the twine in your hand, as he pieces together the situation, “but my wife is too kind for her own good sometimes.”
Neuvillette’s eyes browse over your form, examining your tense muscles and downtrodden eyes, the arms that remain at your sides. He’s seen cases just like this time and time again in court, but even so, it doesn’t take a legal profession to ascertain that you’re not particularly fond of your husband. And given Morax’s propensity for contracts, Neuvillette’s senses immediately go on alert.
The Chief Justice clears his throat. “Not at all. I think it quite generous of her to have dedicated her time to making my travels easier.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you’re too focused on Zhongli who, despite his collected demeanor, you realize is a thread away from snapping.
Just what kind of battle between dragons have you gotten yourself into the middle of?
“Is that so? Perhaps she took pity on an old man such as yourself. I hear it can be difficult to carry so much after you’ve departed from your prime.”
“Old man?” Neuvillette barks a laugh, but quickly coughs and regains his composure. “Quite ironic coming from you, Rex. Besides, I feel quite reinvigorated these days. One can only assume it’s due to the balances of power returning to their rightful due.”
Zhongli flashes a hint of his canines, the only giveaway to his building rage. “Rightful is quite a biased term. We wouldn’t want to start a war now, would we?”
Neuvillette’s eyes glint like a sword ready for battle. “And you would know quite a bit about inciting wars, wouldn’t you, Rex?”
Dear Archons, you need to stop this before these two lunge at each other’s throats.
“Zhongli,” you try to placate with a soft voice, the name and tone you know he so adores from you, “I believe that Neu—uh, the Chief Justice was on his way back to Fontaine. I only wanted to help him wrap up his purchases correctly for the journey. If we assist him together, then we can head to the Pavilion for tea after, yes?” Part of you is disgusted at yourself for having to grovel, but you can’t allow two immensely powerful draconic beings to brawl over tea in the middle of the village.
Though you have an strong inkling that the argument isn’t over tea.
Your suggestion lands. Zhongli’s muscles relax as he peers down at you, those immovable, amber eyes softening slightly as he drinks you in. The roaming hands across your back and waist, however, hint that you’ll be getting an earful in private. Though of the likely punishments he has in store for you, that’s the least of your worries.
With a single snap of his fingers, Zhongli uses the power of geo to bind Neuvillette’s parcels together. “There. Consider the issue resolved. My wife and I have matters to attend to.”
Zhongli quickly begins to pull you away, and you think you hear a growl over your shoulder from Neuvillette’s direction. “Careful, Rex. I would be most displeased to have to take one of your contracts to court. In the face of the law, they aren’t as omnipotent as you believe them to be.”
You wince, the statement hitting a bit too close to home. Zhongli, on the other hand, goes as still as stone. “That sounds awfully like a threat, Neuvillette.”
“A mere warning. It is of your own fault to read too deeply into it.”
Neuvillette then turns his attention to you, placing a single tea box into your shaking hands. You have no clue when he separated it from the rest.
Leaning in, his voice drops, low enough to be directed to you, yet you know Zhongli hears it clearly. “You are more than welcome to Fontaine. I will see to your accommodations personally, if you so choose to visit. I believe a spirit like yours would be greatly appreciated in our nation.”
All you can do is shake your head forlornly. Never in a million lifetimes will Zhongli allow it, not even before this encounter. You’ll have to settle for seeing Fontaine through your dreams alone.
Straightening with a frown but understanding the position you must be in, of the contract that binds you to the Geo Archon, Neuvillette lets the matter drop. He turns to leave, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “And her name isn’t wife, Rex. It’s…”
You swallow thickly. “(Y/n),” you finish, a mere breath.
Neuvillette gives you a final smile in return. “My offer will always stand, (Y/n). Happy Lantern Rite.”
Moments after he’s out of sight, Zhongli dips his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and rubbing his over your skin. “You stink of that other male…but I know how to amend that.”
Needless to say, you did not make it to tea that afternoon.
It wasn’t until that night when Zhongli was asleep, clawed limbs and scaly tail entangled with your naked form, that you deem it safe to open the tea box Neuvillette gifted to you.
Core pounding, you grimace as you stand, the many possessive and claiming bite marks and bruises across your skin even worse than usual. He didn’t lie about wiping any scent of the other dragon away, if the past few hours of nonstop sex were any indication.
You make your way to the kitchen trash, where Zhongli had immediately disposed of it upon arriving home. Heart pounding, you lift the lid.
A shimmering blue vision reflects in your pupils.
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
Text
Until the Last Loop: Familiar Faces
(Days spent with them making new memories- a silent attempt at forging a new life before it will be ripped away once more)
Poly mercenaries 141 x princess reader
Part One
The castle breathed with life and the scent of burning tallow, but to you, it might as well have been a tomb. Its towering walls and narrow corridors, carved from cold stone and lined with faded tapestries, had grown too familiar over the cycles- prisons that wore different faces but caged you all the same, and you were the bird locked within it each life, merely with different feather each time.
You sung the same melody, regardless. A melody that would soon be snuffed out.
You moved through the halls like a shadow, your impending doom hanging over you like clock that never stopped ticking until its last moments. Servants parted for you without meeting your gaze, and although whispers followed in your wake, they no longer stung the way they once had. You had long since grown used to the weight of their words, their gazes full of pity and disdain. They had become just another layer of the endless loop, a reflection of your precarious standing with the royal lineage.
But the men- the four who trailed in your footsteps, sent by your father to report all your moves back to him with the excuse of protecting you- were different.
They were a presence you couldn’t shake, no matter how many lifetimes passed. Always close, always steady, their shadows filled the empty spaces others left behind. And unlike the others, they weren’t afraid to look at you.
In some lives, you despised them. What comfort could four men give you when all you wanted was your father’s love? Your people’s adoration? Friends your age? None whatsoever.
In other lives, you had been distant. You kept them at arms’ length, unwilling to even converse with them. They were of no use to your desperation to free yourself from this cursed cycle.
You’ve lost count of how many loops you’ve gone through. Even now, you do not know how it started; who started it. A cruel curse, that’s what it was, and you were its constant victim. It was inevitable, so why… keep away the only people willing to be near you?
And so this time, you let them close.
Soap was the first to slip past your walls, an unsurprising fact.
It was late when you found yourself sitting in the gardens, the air sharp with the chill of night. The roses were dying, their petals curling inward as frost crept along the edges, and you wondered- just for a moment- how many times you had seen them bloom and wither like this.
Too many times.
You were alone with him; no maid or lady-in-waiting was willing to accompany you, though rather than saying that, they jusy boldly lied and said they had prior arrangements to the king.
The king. Your father. It was always him. You wished he’d hate you a little less, just enough to not rob you of the care you’ll always long for like a child stumbling through the cold for a flicker of fire, of warmth.
Wistful dreams.
Soap sat down beside you without invitation, though his presence didn’t feel unwelcome. His easy smile was softer in the moonlight, and when he offered you his cloak, you didn’t refuse it.
“You look like you’re waitin’ for somethin’,” he said, voice low but steady, starting the conversation. By now, they’ve come to understand that you are… so different from whatever everyone said of you. You were quiet, your presence squeezed and molded into a tiny nook of the castle so easy to forget.
You didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. The words came slower, heavier now- weighted by too many winters and too many deaths.
“I think it’s waiting for me,” you breathed out, fingers brushing the edge of the cloak. The flowers fluttered when a breeze blew by, bending in the directionaway from you; they pitied you, too, for not even they’d be placed upon your grave once you were dead. “… My end, I mean.”
Soap didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to deny it, either. He did not have any loyalty to the king or keeping his secrets; no mercenary would bother even if they’d lifk the king’s hand for his gold and coins.
Snakes, all of them. And yet- they were the ones who got to live, so the last laugh was theirs.
“Well,” he said instead, leaning back on his palms, “if it comes knockin’, ye just let me know. I’ll handle it.”
You almost smiled. Almost.
Soap didn’t leave right after that, like you expected.
He stayed, stretched out beside you on the stone bench like he had nowhere better to be, his broad shoulders relaxed but his eyes sharp as they roamed the shadows pooling in the corners of the garden. The scent of dying roses lingered in the air, sweet and cloying, and you wondered if he noticed the way your hands trembled when you smoothed the cloak over your lap.
If he did, he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he tilted his head back and gazed at the stars, his voice softer when he spoke again.
“Ye know, my mum used to say the stars are just folk lookin’ down on us,” he said, accent curling thick around the words. “Watchin’, guidin’… makin’ sure we dinna wander too far off the path.”
You blinked at him. “And what if the path leads… nowhere?”
Soap turned his head to look at you then, eyes dark. “Then ye make yer own.”
It was such an earnest thing to say, so full of conviction that it made something in your chest twist painfully. You couldn’t tell him how many times you’d tried to do just that- tried to fight and claw your way toward a different ending, only to be dragged back to the start again.
Soap didn’t know. None of them did.
And yet, as you sat there with his warmth seeping through the cloak and his words lingering in the air like a promise, you found yourself wishing- just for a moment- that he was right.
That you could carve your way out of this nightmare and leave the endless cycle behind.
But that was foolish.
So instead, you leaned back against the bench and let your eyes drift shut, pretending not to notice the way Soap’s hand hovered near the dagger at his side, ready to draw at the first sign of danger.
Pretending you didn’t feel safer for it.
Ghost was harder to pin down. He lingered on the edges, silent as your grave, but his presence was impossible to ignore.
When the nightmares came- and they always did, another constant- you found him at your door. He never asked questions, never pried. He simply stood guard, silent, until the trembling stopped.
One night, when sleep refused to come after a day of listening to awful, false whispers of you, you found yourself seated on the rug in front of the hearth, staring into the flames. Ghost leaned against the wall, his mask a stark contrast against the flickering light.
“They won’t hurt you.” He said suddenly, rough and low.
You didn’t look at him. You watched the flickering fire, and was rewarded with whispers of the lives where you’d been burned at the stake. “They always do.”
“They won’t.”
And maybe it was foolish, but for once, you almost believed him.
You pulled your knees closer to your chest, eyes fixed on the flames as if they could burn away the memories pressing in from all sides.
Ghost didn’t move from his place against the wall. He was a silhouette in the firelight, broad shoulders and sharp angles, the hollow black of his mask turning him into something almost otherworldly.
You didn’t ask why he was there. He never explained himself, and you never pushed.
After a while, he broke the silence again.
“They’re scared of you.”
His voice was quiet, still rough like gravel, but it cut through the room as sharply as any blade.
You swallowed, your gaze still locked on the fire. You couldn’t look away. “No. They hate me.”
Ghost didn’t argue. He let the silence stretch, his eyes never leaving you.
You weren’t sure why that bothered you more than words would have.
“They’re scared,” he repeated finally, slower this time. Firmer. “And scared people do stupid things.”
You let out a short, bitter laugh. “Like cutting off my head?”
Ghost tilted his head, and something about the way he looked at you made your chest tighten.
“They won’t get the chance, princess.” He said, and there was something cold in his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.
You turned to face him then, finally meeting his gaze. Or at least, what you thought was his gaze beneath the mask. It was impossible to tell, but you felt it- heavy, unflinching.
“You can’t stop it, Ghost.”
Ghost didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. “Watch me.”
The words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have mattered when you already knew how this would end- how it always ended. Those words were treacherous to whatever the king wanted and expected of him.
But as the fire crackled and the shadows danced along the walls, you let yourself believe him. Just for a little while.
Because Ghost wasn’t the kind of man who made promises.
And yet, when he spoke, it sounded like one.
… yet you knew, not all promises can be kept.
Gaz was gentler than the others. Thoughtful. Attentive in a way that made your chest ache, because it had been so long since anyone had looked at you without seeing the stain on your birthright first and you second.
He helped you practice with a dagger one afternoon, though you both knew it wouldn’t be of much use to you. The sharp clang of metal rang out against the training yard walls as he corrected your grip, his hands warm against yours.
When was the last time you’d been held like that?
Far too long ago. Far too many lives ago.
“Careful,” he said, guiding the blade down in a smooth arc. “Keep your stance steady.”
You frowned. “What does it matter?”
Gaz tilted his head, eyes searching yours. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
And wasn’t that the cruelest part? That no matter how many times you died, you always woke up again?
You didn’t answer, and Gaz didn’t press. Instead, he let you lean into him when the weight of it all grew too heavy, when the weight of more than just the training pressed down on you.
Gaz stayed close after that- close enough that you started to notice the small things.
The way his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than they should, watching for signs of exhaustion or the fear you tried so hard to hide. The way his touch was always secure but never overbearing, grounding you without demanding more than you were willing to give.
He made you feel… safe.
It was dangerous.
Foolish.
But you let him stay anyway. You stayed with him anyway.
The dagger gleamed in the sunlight as you practiced another strike, the blade slicing cleanly through the air. Gaz nodded approvingly, stepping back just enough to give you space, though his presence was still a solid weight at your side.
“Better,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “You’re getting the hang of it, princess. Maybe you’ll give us a run of our money, eh?”
You lowered the blade, breathing hard as you wiped the sweat from your brow. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be humorous “I’m not sure it’ll matter in the end.”
Gaz frowned at that, stepping closer. “Don’t say that.”
You almost laughed. Almost. “You don’t understand.”
His hand came up then, gentle as he tilted your chin to face him. The look in his eyes knocked the breath from your lungs- steady and sure, like he was trying to hold you together with sheer force of will.
“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, voice low. “But I do know this- every time you get back up, it matters.”
You didn’t realize you were trembling until his hand dropped to your shoulder, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.
“Don’t give up yet, princess,” he murmured, softer now. “Not on yourself.”
It was almost too much. Too kind. Too hopeful.
You wanted to tell him that hope had no place here- not in this endless loop of death and betrayal and grief. Not in this damned castle- but the words wouldn’t come, caught in your throat like fish in a net.
So instead, you let him take the dagger from your hands, let him press it back into its sheath before leading you toward the shade of the courtyard’s edge.
And when he sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed, you didn’t pull away.
Because for once, it didn’t feel like a burden to be seen.
Price was the hardest to read.
He was steady, commanding- his presence filled the room like the smoke of chimneys, lingering long after he was gone. He carried himself like a man who had seen too much and lost too many, and sometimes, when he looked at you, you thought you saw the ghost of something more.
He didn’t speak often, but when he did, his words stayed with you.
“Do you ever wonder, princess,” he asked one evening, standing by the window with a wooden cup of mead in his hand. You didn’t know how he’d even snuck it in, but you weren’t going to snitch. “if we’re all just pieces on your father’s board?”
You blinked at him, startled by the sudden question.
“All the time.” You said.
His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and there was something unreadable in it.
You wanted to ask what he meant, why the sudden question, but he turned away before you could, leaving you to sit and stew with the thought.
And stew you did.
Because Price wasn’t wrong, was he?
You already knew your father had lied- about these mercenaries, their orders, everything.
They weren’t here to protect you. Not really.
No knights would take you, no nobles wanted you, and no one in the kingdom would lay down their sword for a bastard-born princess whose only crime was existing. Yet here they were, these hardened men, mercenaries paid in coin and silence, assigned to watch your every move.
Not guard you. Watch you.
Keep you until the day you were dragged to your death once more.
You’d known it the moment Price first stepped through your door, his eyes sweeping the room like he was cataloging exits instead of protecting them. The others were subtler- Soap with his easy charm, Ghost with his patient silence, Gaz with his careful words- but Price?
Price didn’t even try to hide it.
And maybe that was the worst part.
Because he didn’t look at you the way others did. He didn’t sneer, didn’t pity, didn’t hate. He looked at you like he was waiting.
Waiting for what?
For you to run? To slip up? To hand him the excuse he needed to drag you before your father in chains, so he could take the money and leave?
The thought made your stomach twist.
Because no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter- that the loop would end and begin again, and none of this would last- it still sank its claws into you.
And the next time Price caught you watching him from across the room, you didn’t look away.
Not at first.
He held your gaze, steady and unreadable, but there was no malice in it- no sharp edges or hidden teeth. Just something quiet. Something that almost felt like understanding.
When you finally turned away, you expected the weight of it to linger, to drag down your shoulders and settle in your chest like an unwelcome puff of smoke.
But it didn’t.
Instead, you felt the faintest flicker of warmth- barely there, fleeting as a dying ember- and hated how much you wanted to hold onto it.
Days turned to nights, and the hours slipped away like sand through your fingers. The loop pressed closer with every tick of the clock, and yet…
You didn’t feel so alone this time.
They were there- in the quiet moments, in the chaos, in the shadows of your worst fears- and though you knew it wouldn’t save you, you still let them stay.
Because this time, you didn’t have the strength to keep them away.
This time, you… wanted to have fond memories before your death.
Masterlist | Part Three
I hope everyone’s been enjoying this so far! Any guesses on why reader is in a time loop and who might be responsible? :3
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hamilando · 3 months ago
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ੈ✩ top of everything (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : max verstappen x male reader
summary: max is best because he believes he is the best ( in everything )
tw : fluff; a little suggestive
fc : vinnie hacker
a/n : MY FIRST MALE READER FIC ! if you don’t like reading it, please don’t read, but leaving hate is not an option, AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY HOMOPHOBIC COMMENTS, you don’t like it or support, just skip it ! lysm 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by nicholaschavez and 636,287 others
ynhacker my love is a monster in the show ( and 🛌 )
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user1 HE IS GAY !?
user2 LMAO BOTH THE ACTORS IN MONSTER ARE GAY !?
user3 CHAVEZ IS GAY !?
nicholaschavez I am never letting you click pictures of mine
ynhacker alright then, you are not licking my tattoos
user4 SIR FREAK !?
user5 OPEN AN ONLYFANS, YALL WILL BE BILLIONAIRES
user6 me being an old fan and sipping tea ☕️
user7 they loooook so good together
user8 if they have a kid- the gene race is won
user9 both of them are so hot
user10 why are hot men all gay ?
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liked by user1, maddisonbeer and 763,862 others
ynhacker oh, I am both 😌
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user1 SOMETHING HAPPENED BETWEEN HIM AND NICHOLAS
user2 WHAT !? THEY BROKE UP
user3 no they didn’t, nich still has their pictures
user4 no, I mean, Y/n said that nicholas doesn’t like him posting thirsty pictures so for the past 7 months he had not posted even one thirsty selfie
user5 THIS IS A THIRST TRAP !?
user6 they def broke up if y/n is back to posting fuck me daddy photos
user7 he is def the one doing the cardio, not receiving -
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liked by maddisonbeer, maxverstappen1 and 873,367 others
ynhacker they said Latina air and fast cars helps with break ups 🍃
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user1 THEY BROKE UP 😭😭😭
user2 DAD AND DADDY BROKE UP 😔😭😭😔
landonorris it was amazing meeting you !!!
liked by ynhacker
user3 where did lando spawn out of 💀
user4 let him spawn, he is not gay
user5 Lando is dating magui I think
user6 IDC, Y/N'S FUCKBOY ERA IS BACK !!?
user7 we love a hot gay man with hot girl besties 👄
mclaren see you soon again!!!
ynhacker definitely admin, coming for the cars and bundas 🍑
user7 HUH!?
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liked by user1, user2, and 736,276 others
enews Weeks after rumours, Y/N Hacker, who is the ex-boyfriend of Nicholas Chavez was seen in his car with a mystery man at the gas station in Vegas.
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user1 my man does not waste time 😭
user2 who is the mystery man !?
user3 that's..MAX VERSTAPPEN !?
user4 ARIANNA WHAT YOU DOING HERE !?
user5 he is soo drunk
user6 WHY IS HE DRIVING !?
user7 they casually be exposing max breaking laws-
user8 not only the FIA but even FBI will be after him 😌
user9 MAX IS GAY !?
user10 nah, they maybe friends ?
user11 I am loving to see this side of max
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ynhacker Jimmy and Sassy love me, he does too well 🙂‍↕️
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user1 wasn't he a dog person ?
user2 when did he adopt cats ?
user3 those are Max's cats !!
user4 MAX VERSTAPPEN !?
user5 the f1 grid in the likes-
landonorris max is cursing in Dutch here
ynhacker that's a very Charles thing to do
charlesleclerc EXCUSE ME !?
ynahacker excused, now let Carlos overtake 😌
carlossainz55 whenever you come to Spain, tell me, you are not even spending a euro
user6 I am living for these sudden interactions-
maxverstappen1 return my sons
ynhacker they love me more than you 🤭
maxverstappen1 get my sons along with you
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,367,972 others
ynhacker shirtless because he does not own any shirt except the redbull one
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redbullracing glad to see our driver doing his duties
ynhacker you certainly are not doing anything for him tho -
landonorris mate, you are going to get him kicked out
ynhacker nah, they will be digging their graves by kicking him out
landonorris YOU can get banned
ynhacker will they mess with Max's plus one?
landonorris point
maxverstappen1 why do you own a phone!?
maxverstappen1 stop clicking random pictures of me
charlesleclerc give the context of the middle on though
ynhacker one word : REDBULL
maxverstappen1 we look cute in the last one
ynhacker it's all you 🤭
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ynhacker Lando's and I are matching 4️⃣💤
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user1 his closet is exactly like I imagined
user2 messy like his driving -
user2 is blocked by ynhacker
user3 KING 👑
user4 are all the f1 drivers gay ?
user5 wasn't he like dating max ?
user6 and now Lando ?
landonorris can I kill you for exposing my wardrobe ?
maxverstappen1 let me kill you before that
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ynhacker MY CHAMP IS ON THE TOP OF THE CHAMPIONSHIP ( and me 🤭)
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tg : @callsignwidow
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pinkberrytea · 2 months ago
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Astarion is nervous, possibly even afraid that he is about to lose something—that you are about to lose something, something precious and dear to him.
I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.
Enjoyment beyond the death drive—beyond the self-imposed regulation of pleasure. He wants her, so desperately, so ardently; yet she escapes through his fingers like fine sand, falling on the ground and dissolving in the dirt above his grave.
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Astarion x Tav (F!Reader)
w/c: 3k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers
a/n: this is the sequel to la petite mort! while it was initially intended as a standalone oneshot, i wanted to expand on the themes introduced in the original. hopefully it lives up to its predecessor! thank you to the wonderful @xxnashiraxx for giving this one a read, i love you dearly friendo!
tags: blood drinking; hurt & comfort; possessive behavior; masturbation; hand jobs; body worship; dry humping
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“Astarion…?”
His name slips from your lips before you even open your eyes, your consciousness slowly returning as you are suddenly woken from restless sleep. You feel his naked chest pressed flat against your back, his cold skin robbing you of the warmth of yours; his strong arms encircling your waist, hands roaming your sides; and his fangs, sank deep into the crook of your neck as his wet tongue laps up your crimson, which leaks from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his jaw and onto your shoulders. There is no pain—rather, the sensation is almost pleasurable, familiar, which comes as no surprise considering it’s been months now ever since his nightly feeding sessions became a daily occurrence. You don’t even bother setting up your tent anymore; upon leaving the Shadowlands, he’d begin routinely insisting that you sleep in his, heedless of your mutual agreement to abstain from more carnal proclivities for the time being. “Oh, darling, wouldn’t you say it’s much easier for me to dine with you this way? As hard as it will be for me to keep my hands to myself, I did give you my word,” he’d say, and true enough, you had yet to go beyond very heated kissing and groping—regardless, here he is now, avidly drinking from you while grinding the throbbing bulge inside his pants against your rear.
“Shh. It’s alright, love. Go back to sleep.” Astarion unlatches from your bruising vein to whisper the words in your ear, and you are almost tempted to do just that, but it’s far too late; ignoring him or the erection poking at your backside is no longer an option, and he probably realizes that too, having stopped gliding his hands up and down your torso to gently rest them on your arms instead. You are wearing his shirt, a habit you’ve taken to in recent days—at first you’d lie and say it was because you didn’t want your own to become soiled with blood, though in truth you simply enjoy the intimacy of sharing clothes and the comfort of being enveloped in his scent. Despite seeing right through your excuses, Astarion didn’t seem to mind at all; quite the opposite, he appeared to enjoy the fact that you’d start sleeping clad in nothing but his shirt and your underpants, since oversized as it is, the length would be enough to cover your crotch and thighs. He likely didn’t factor in your agreement, of course—while convenient in most other circumstances, the ease of access wouldn’t exactly be conducive to chastity, so to speak.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you groan and twist your body to face him. He moves one of his hands to your scalp, lovingly running his slender fingers through your tousled hair and planting a bloodstained kiss on your temple. When he finally pulls away to meet your stare, a shiver unexpectedly runs down your spine; his pupils are blown out, almost completely eclipsing his sanguine irises, yet you can undeniably see something primal and hungry lurking in their depths. The candle you had lit before turning in for the night burns bright still, and the light of its dancing flame bounces off his sharp teeth, which had been puncturing your own flesh but moments ago. How easy it is to forget what the heart wants to deny—whenever the true nature of his vampirism rears its ugly head, you find yourself questioning your blind trust in him. Yet like a passing breeze, just as soon as that sliver of doubt weasels its way into your mind, it’s then gone; foolish though it may be, you don’t fear the darkness in him, not now, not when he first put a knife to your throat. 
“You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it’s better to forget.”
Tentatively, you reach out to lightly stroke his cheek, the pads of your fingers ghosting over his ivory skin. His eyelids flutter close as if by instinct, and he quietly leans into your touch, looking almost vulnerable for a moment. Ever so delicately, you trace the lines on his face, his high cheekbones, his cupid’s bow, his plush lips, which are parted still. It amazes you how his features can be at once so edged yet so soft, much like the man himself, in a way. No, you don’t fear him, even if he has given you no reason not to other than a heartfelt confession.
“I—I could help you, you know,” you hear yourself mumble, almost bashfully, a faint glow spreading across the bridge of your nose and warming the tips of your ears. “With that, I mean.” Astarion furrows his brow and his eyes flit back open in confusion, only to slightly widen as you coyly motion with your head towards his obviously tented pants. He looks down at his groin and then up at you, unsure of what to think, much less of what to say. It’s not often that he is left wanting for words, but then again, you were ever one to drag him out of his comfort zone. 
“You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you little rascal.” Despite the initial shock, he quickly regains composure, almost too quickly. His expression abruptly changes, gaze laced with seduction and lips quirked upwards into a practiced smirk. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the first one of us to acquiesce? I’ll admit your innocent facade had me fooled, but you’re quite the needy thing underneath those big round eyes and blushing cheeks, aren’t you, darling?” he teases, voice lowering an octave, its cadence measured to an almost unnerving degree. Your mouth becomes dry and your stomach coils into a tight knot as you immediately recognize his sudden shift in attitude, a side of him you’ve come to know all too well and that disturbs you still—yet even more worryingly, his otherwise perfectly poised countenance seems to enshroud an emotion that had never been there before: anxiety. Astarion is nervous, possibly even afraid that he is about to lose something—that you are about to lose something, something precious and dear to him. 
“I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”
“No! That’s… I didn’t mean it like that,” you blurt out, heart fluttering in your chest, so loudly you are sure he can hear it. While you have never gone over the terms of your agreement or discussed them in-depth, you had always assumed that physical intimacy wouldn’t necessarily be off the table, especially the kind of intimacy that would require nothing of him. Although perhaps therein lies the problem—someone who perceives everything as transactional would naturally fail to accept that another would be willing to give without taking. Remorse washes over you as you realize your mistake, which you promptly try to mend, much as the guilt bars you from looking him in the eyes. “What I meant is… I can take care of it. For you.”
Astarion’s eyebrows slowly slide up his forehead and he studies you intently for what seems like an eternity, clearly taken aback. Before long, he finally breaks the silence, humming quizzically and untangling his fingers from your hair. “Hm? Is that right?” he hesitates, only to yet again flash you a sly smile, a much softer one this time, ruby irises twinkling with something akin to melancholy. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Despite provocatively purring each word, the tone with which he speaks is remarkably gentle, almost uncertain. Bringing a hand to your chin, he cups it delicately and tilts your head upwards, prompting you to meet his stare, its flirtatious edge now replaced with wistful warmth.  
“You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”
You inhale sharply, your brief show of boldness having obviously run its course, and the pink flush coloring your ears deepens into a bright red. His smile widens once he notices your nervousness, and he brings his face even closer to yours, so close you can feel his lashes tickling the delicate skin under your eyes. His cool breath caresses your lips, the metallic scent of blood—your blood—wafting up your nose. Still cupping your chin, he at last closes the distance between you, covering your mouth with his and hooking a leg over your waist to pull your bodies flush together. With the swell between his thighs now nudging your belly, he starts leisurely rolling his hips, resuming what he had been doing before rousing you from your slumber.
“Hnng…” As you bury your fingers in his silvery curls, melting into the kiss and relishing the taste of him, Astarion lets out a muffled moan, low and throaty. Wetness starts pooling between your folds, though instead of indulging in the sensation, you try to ignore it to the best of your ability—tonight is not about you, and you want him to know this. Regardless, he can obviously smell your arousal, but far from causing any upset, it only serves to entice him further; sliding his free hand down your back, he firmly grabs one of your buttocks with a bruising grip upon reaching your ass, kneading it roughly. All this time, he’d been graciously accepting your generosity, and then some—he’s not about to stop now, not when for once he knows he hasn’t manipulated you into extending your kindness to him.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had to decide what I wanted.”
“Mngh—Astarion…” you mewl into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside yours, fangs nipping at your bottom lip without breaking skin. You press one of your palms to his chest, feeling the firmness of his pectorals under the soft pads of your digits before gingerly sliding them downwards, raising a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Drawing small circular patterns, you slowly glide your blunt nails across the valleys of his ribs, his navel, and finally his lower abdomen, teasingly grazing the waistband of his pants.
“My, such a good little helper you are,” Astarion breaks the kiss to murmur against your reddened lips, and moving his hand on your chin down to grasp your own, he encourages you to venture under the waistband. Your fingers now intertwined with his, you let him guide you to the hardness pushing against his smallclothes, which are damp with precome, much like yours are damp with slick. You can feel the outline of his length through the thin fabric, and he unceremoniously has you both fist it, wiggling his hips so that his pants drop below the plump of his behind. 
“Such a good, selfless little helper…” he croons, sliding both of your hands up and down his still covered cock. With every pump, his groans grow huskier, small beads of sweat pooling in the creases of his forehead. His eyes are now closed, his mouth slightly parted, and his hold on your hand is strong, if not binding. Your dripping sex wantonly clenches around nothing at the sight of him, so hopelessly focused on his own pleasure; gods, how desperately you wish to be stretched open around his enlarged girth, stuffed full of him until you are both flailing for purchase, panting and screaming each other’s name. He may not be ready for that yet, but as your imagination wanders, you tell yourself that there’s no harm in picturing him taking you from behind, balls swinging and hitting your ass as he thrusts deep into your slit with reckless abandon; your lips wrapped around his flushed cockhead, one of his hands mercilessly tugging at your hair as he sings you praises; you bouncing on his lap, buttocks slapping against his legs with each bob of your body.  
“Astarion…” you moan, rubbing your thighs together to get some relief from that small amount of friction. His cock jerks under your combined hands, so hard now that his smallclothes are pulled back enough to reveal the swollen tip. How sweet is the sound of his name on your tongue, how sweet is the scent of your desire when he is the one you yearn for. Just as you fantasize about him, Astarion too keeps replaying all sorts of scenarios in his head—he hates that he can’t have you yet, that he can’t pin you to a wall or throw you on a table and fuck you until you beg him for mercy; he hates that he can’t watch your cute little tits jiggle as your tight cunt swallows him whole, that he can’t coax pretty noises out of your rosy lips and make your eyes water as you come for him. He hates that his lust for you is tainted, that his lust for you is what inspired him to choose you as his target in the first place. Most of all, he hates himself for having disregarded you as a beautiful fool; for having underestimated his own susceptibility to falling in love, for having even fallen in love at all. 
“You’re a vision. And you’re so much more than that.”
“Gods, I want to be inside you…” Astarion grunts, letting go of you to pull down his smallclothes, finally freeing his weeping erection. It glistens in the candlelight, red and hungry, and you waste no time wrapping your fingers around its base. A muted whimper falls from his lips once your warm skin collides with his, and he rolls his hips into your hand, to which you respond by lightly squeezing him, drawing pearly, sticky liquid from the twitching crown. “Gentle, darling…” he whispers, though his half-lidded eyes, hazy with want, show no sign of aggravation—despite the commanding tone of his voice, it’s safe to assume that the instruction is not so much a complaint as a suggestion. Regardless, you obey, stroking him softly and setting a sensual pace to your movements.
“That’s it. That’s it, love. Good girl…” With his newly freed hand, Astarion tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his long fingers against your cheek before inconspicuously running them down the elegant column of your neck. His gaze is immediately drawn to the fresh set of bite marks maculating your otherwise perfectly smooth skin, and he absentmindedly licks his lips upon noticing the ruby droplets blooming from the small wounds. His cock throbs against your palm as he lowers his head to plant a loving kiss on the spot earlier claimed by his fangs—which he then sinks again into the still seeping artery. This time, you feel a sharp sting, but as soon as he starts sucking, the pain fades away; he wraps an arm around your upper body to hold you in place as he drinks, cradling you against his chest, and his other hand quickly finds one of your breasts under your—his—shirt. Trapping its puckered peak between two deft digits, he pinches it playfully, and you are unable to stifle the whine that subsequently forms in the back of your throat.
“Asta—aah…” You try to remain focused on the task you’ve been entrusted with, tightening your grip on him to remind yourself that he is the priority, not you. This in turn causes him to moan against your neck and shove his hips forward; taking his reaction as a cue, you speed up the tempo of your strokes, which are now almost synchronized with the vigorous bobbing of his Adam’s apple. His hand on your breast gropes it passionately, all five of his fingers now splayed across its soft swell and digging deep into the squishy flesh. He wonders if it’s a deliberate act of provocation, or if you really are so naïve that you wouldn’t notice his ravenous stare whenever your nipples pebble and become visible through the white sheerness of his shirt. Knowing you, it’s probably the latter; he’s yet to meet anyone as oblivious as you are, and while he has learned to accept that this side of you is not necessarily a weakness, it also awakens in him a protective instinct—a possessive instinct. You may be prey, but you are his prey; his to feed on, his to fuck, his, and nobody else’s.
“Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.”
Astarion bends the leg hooked around your waist to pull you even closer to him, and from the way his groans increase both in frequency and in volume, you can tell he is about to fall over the precipice of ecstasy. The glossy sheen of sweat covering his pale skin makes him look like a marble sculpture, an otherworldly creature, yet the ferocity with which he feasts on your crimson reveals him not touched by the divine, but consumed by sin. It’s almost ironic then, that sinful as his longing for you may be, it feels so pure, so sacred. Tension coils low in his stomach, and for once there is no guilt, no disgust, no contempt; only rapture, as if he were an apostate and your love a haven, a promise of sanctuary.
“But I know that this?”
You pump him one last time, and with a guttural growl, Astarion comes in your hand, spurting out ribbons of his seed all over his own abdomen and thighs. Unlatching from your neck, he doesn’t bother pulling away, bloodied lips still pressed against your heated flesh, and his hand that had been under your shirt joins the other as both of his arms fold around your midriff. You let go of his softening length to run your fingers through his curls, closing your eyes and trying to catch your breath, tiredness suddenly weighing down all of your limbs and anchoring them to your bedroll. Lulled by the gentle pounding of your heart, he too empties his mind and lets himself be engulfed by the warmth of your body, so soft, so inviting, so very alive. Your taste still lingers on his tongue, your lifeblood now mixed with his within his veins—as his happiness trickles down in rivulets of scarlet, yours soars into the starry night sky. 
“This is nice.”
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anisespice · 1 month ago
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Hey girl got a request,so like let’s say bonten is having a meeting with a new criminal organization gang that came in to come up with a deal,and while we are just sitting in the back looking at our new sparkly items Koko bought us,and the new criminal organization gang calls us out saying it’s disrespectful and rude calling us names..And bonten doesn’t like that one bit..So yeah I want them to react to that
hope it makes sense 😔😍🤺🤺
SAVE ME FROM MY WRITER'S BLOCK, ANON - HERE WE GO, NO MARIO. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting~!
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pairing: bonten x fem!reader
warnings: mature language, misogynistic undertones (from another gang), implied violence, guns mentioned, reader is criminally oblivious (love that for her), guard-dog!bonten supremacy, sanzu gets his own warning lol and i think that's it.
notes: yall. can you believe i actually wrote this in one sitting? without stopping?? wild concept for me, haven't been able to do that in a good minute *knock on wood*, but i hope you enjoy! more stuff coming soon ♡
tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05, @neverlandlostchild , @darks-pet-shadow, @captaincyberqueen
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Upon the arrival of the recently developed organization, officially known as Kaiju, things already weren’t off to a great start. They were late, clocked at about twenty minutes past schedule. Excuses poured from them like a broken faucet, blaming their tardiness on traffic, which the members were willing to give the benefit of the doubt, some more than others. Then, they were unprepared. Scrambling about with their half-assed introduction mixed with a sloppily thrown together presentation, it was insulting at worst. 
Here they were, biggest in the game, offering an opportunity to help underground operatives make a name for themselves..and this is how they want to showcase their potential? Mikey waved it off when his number three voiced this flaw, merely chalking it up with inexperience–Everyone has to start somewhere, right? 
But. Finally came strike three. The one thing, the most damning thing they could’ve ever done to have mercy jump right out the window and straight to hell, was when one of their foolish members spoke ill of you. 
It was supposed to be taken as a joke, something controversial in a room amongst men, locker room talk if you would. Unfortunately for him and the rest of his team, Bonten didn’t see it that way. What was said wasn’t important, but the intent behind it was enough to make them hostile. And Kaiju would soon realize it too late despite no one laughing on that side of the room. If anything, the room grew colder. No matter who you looked at, venom consumed their gazes, a deathly aura building from their leader all the way to the advisors. The only reason no one reached for their gun, mowing them down in an array of bullets, was because you didn’t hear the disrespectful comment. 
All gazes shifted over to you briefly, sitting pretty in your little area they set up just for you. They liked having you close by, even during something so mundane as a meeting, watching you happily paint your nails or open up all the shiny new trinkets they bought you. Kaiju should count themselves lucky that you had headphones on, blissfully listening to music, not a care in the world.
And it was going to stay that way. 
By now, the dumbasses before them caught on to their grave error. Especially when Sanzu made a show of santuring over to you upon Mikey’s silent request, swiftly gathering you in his arms and carrying you to the head of the table. You squealed slightly in surprise, headphones slipping off your ears in the process as you held on to the pink-haired gangster, confused smile on your face. “Haru! You scared me!~” 
“Sorry, doll. Boss wants ya to sit right here.” Sanzu gently sets you down on your awaited throne, Mikey having made room by scooting his chair back, welcoming you with open arms. 
Still confused though not complaining, you merely shrugged before making yourself comfortable, snuggling more into the leader before putting your headphones back on. Mikey held you possessively, arms locked around you like a shield, placing a small kiss to your forehead. Message was sent; message soon received. 
Kaiju’s leader began blubbering out more excuses, reprimanding his subordinate in the same breath for saying such a thing about Bonten’s trophy wife–
Guns are drawn instantly and zeroed in on every last one of them. Stunned to horrified silence, as were his underlings, they all stood frozen in fear as they stared down multiple barrels in every angle. Koko scoffed, “You must got a death wish, huh?” 
“She’s no trophy, have some goddamn respect,” Mochi added, earning a sardonic chuckle from Ran. 
“Big ask from idiots who have none. Couldn’t even bother to show up on time, now they wanna make jabs at our [_____]. I say we’ve been more than courteous, wouldn’t you agree, otouto?” 
“Tsk. Let’s just waste ‘em. We’d be doing the streets a favor.” 
“Great idea,” Sanzu and Takeomi answered in unison, the former sounding twice as eager. 
The only ones placid were Kakucho and Mikey, one quietly observing whilst the other made sure you remained ignorant to the situation, angling you in his lap to where you were practically straddling him, phone still in hand as you watched a music video your favorite k-pop group dropped recently. The only sounds in the room were the panicked breathing of Kaiju and your melodic humming to the song. Mikey patted your head, satisfied that you were still your happy self. If any of those bastards made your smile drop even a centimeter, he would have their bodies fed to the dogs. With a small sigh, he and Kakucho eventually made eye contact. Then, he gave a small nod. “You were right. Should’ve killed them after that shitty presentation. Handle it.” 
Kakucho gave a curt nod, then signaled for Kaiju to be apprehended. With guns still aimed at them, leaving them no choice but to grovel for mercy, the Haitanis along with Mochi and Takeomi forced them to march out of the room, and to their inevitable deaths, not wanting to startle you with the sight of bloodshed so early in the morning.
Sanzu was already dialing up reinforcements to help with cleanup and disposal, face beaming as he practically skipped out of the room. Kakucho gave one last look to you, then Mikey, then politely bowed before closing the door behind him on his way out. You jumped slightly, the song ending right when the door slammed shut, making you lift one of your headphones and look around in shock.
“Oh, is the meeting over already?” 
Mikey reached up to thumb your lower lip, then reached up to playfully pinch your cheek. You grinned, gently swatting him away, so oblivious to the men you inadvertently sent to their demise all to protect that very smile. The former blonde shook his head, leaning on the armrest to rest his chin atop his knuckles. “No. Ended up being a waste of time. Don’t think you would’ve liked them.” 
You chortled. “Doesn’t matter if I like them. It’s your business, silly.” 
“Mm, you are our business, angel. And we like you more.”
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© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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nanenna · 3 months ago
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Let's Wrap this Up, Folks
Sleepy King Masterpost
No editing, we die like Vlad (slowly, painfully, and unmourned). I'm so happy to say this is done!
---
Danny held Cujo close as he scritched him behind the ears, nothing like stinky puppy kisses to help him feel better. And right now he felt pretty awful! Dark Dan had been Ghost King too, it’s just that no one ever told him so he didn’t know. Well, judging from how Johnny and Kitty reacted no one else knew either, and he guesses that was a good thing. Except now everyone does know, between Johnny and Kitty, and the whole of the Far Frozen he’s pretty sure gossip is already getting around.
“Alright, everyone ready to sit down and explain some shit?” Stinky trenchcoat man said. Danny had been introduced, he just didn’t care to remember Blondie’s name.
“Language!” Mom scolded.
“Yeah, yeah.” Stinky plopped himself onto one of the chairs. Wonder Woman sat elegantly in another while Batman loomed over her chair’s back. The not-a-ghost guy, Deadman, was hovering near Stinky.
Danny decided the safest thing to do was to squeeze himself between Mom and Jazz on the couch. Cujo laid himself out across their laps on his back, begging for belly rubs. Vlad seemed to take the Batman approach, standing off to the side and looking rather annoyed.
Stinky pointed at Danny, “Let’s start with the obvious, you somehow, and I’ve yet to figure it out but I will, are Phantom.”
Danny looked over at his parents. Mom smiled brightly as she patted his arm, “Why don’t you show them what you can do?”
“Yeah, Danno! Show them the Fenton gumption!”
Danny sighed as he transferred Cujo over to Jazz’s lap. Thankfully so long as he was getting attention he’d probably be okay. He stood up and moved into the middle of the room. “It’s kinda bright,” he warned before letting his transformation wash over him. “Tada,” he said lamely, arms held out as he stood in the middle of the room.
“Christ on a cracker!” Stinky yelled as he flopped back dramatically.
“You should see what Vlad looks like,” Danny said wryly.
“Daniel!” Vlad yelled angrily.
“Constantine already told us you two are the same form of being,” Batman said gravely.
“I would also point out that young Danny here has already accused you of some very suspicious activities,” Wonder Woman added.
“Vladdie was going through some things!” Jack stood and shook a fist at the Justice League.
“He’s working on reforming,” Maddie added with a smile.
“The biggest thing he was holding over my head was my secret identity,” Danny gestured as he spoke, then stopped and stared down at his hand. “Am I wearing armor? What? Where did…?” He looked down. He was covered in black armor with a white like loincloth, or whatever those are called, and some kind of white fur cape at his shoulders. He found the cape behind him and held it up: yup. White fluffy fur, kinda reminded him of the yeties. “Wait, I don’t have horns, do I?” He felt over his head, thankfully just finding his regular hair.
“No, Danny, you don’t have horns,” Jazz said with a giggle.
“Well excuse me, Pariah has horns! And so does Frostbite, this cape reminds me of him.” He patted himself, getting a feel for his new armor, it felt weird. “Where did this even come from?”
“Congrats, it comes with the title,” Stinky said with a hand wave.
“I don’t get it, the other ghosts said it wasn’t like a magical title or something, that Pariah just declared himself king and did everything himself. Why am I getting the magical girl outfit upgrade?”
“Pariah stole the crown, much like your weird uncle here tried to do.”
Danny snorted at Constantine calling Vlad his weird uncle.
“But the crown is much older than Pariah Dark, it decides who it belongs to.”
Well that was just great, he’s pretty sure Clockwork had something to do with this. “Ugh, this sucks! How do I get rid of it?” Danny asked.
“You don’t.”
Everyone just stared at Constantine.
“What?”
“Congrats, you’re the new Ghost King. Comes with a castle, an army of thralls, and a pretty significant power boost. Probably doubled since apparently you’re the king twice over.”
“No, I have school on Monday! I can’t go to school looking like this!” Danny waved at himself.
“Danny,” Jazz said while trying to hide a grin, “the armor wasn’t on your human form.”
“Oh… right.” Danny de-transformed and looked down at his hands, the rings were still there. “Um!”
“Sorry, kid, no such thing as a part time king, the crowns and rings are permanent now.”
“Noooooooo!” Danny wailed! His normal life! That he was finally getting back since his parents put better protections on the portal after finally telling them the truth! “I just wanted to graduate high school, was that too much to ask?”
Batman grunted, apparently in agreement.
Danny pointed at Stinky, “This is all your fault! If it weren’t for that spell you hit me with they wouldn’t be stuck.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Danny! Here you guys are!” Ellie came flying into the room, her backpack dragging on the ground. She stopped when she spotted the Justice League members all staring at her. “Uh….”
Cujo barked and scrambled out of Jazz’s lap, leaping for Ellie.
“Cujo! Who’s a good boy?!” The two began happily and loudly rolling around on the ground.
Sam and Tucker followed shortly after, both pausing in the doorway. “Uh… Danny?” Tucker asked slowly, “Why are Batman and Wonder Woman in Vlad’s living room?”
“More importantly,” Sam cut in, “why do you have the Crown of Fire over your head? Twice?”
“Turns out I’m the Ghost King, and so was you-know-who.”
“Which you-know-who?” Tucker asked.
“Nasty Burger explosion.”
Tucker still looked a little confused.
“Since Constantine said the second crown was from an alternate timeline, I’m guessing it belonged to an alternate version of yourself, one you also had to beat in combat.”
Danny sighed and deflated, “You really are the world’s greatest detective.”
Batman’s only response was a twitch of his lips. Danny never wanted to play poker with him.
“Danny, why haven’t you told us about this?” Mom asked in that very special tone of voice that meant she was Not Mad Just Disappointed.
“Well… he was evil,” Danny blurted out as his shoulders hiked up to his ears. “I don’t wanna be evil.”
Jazz came over and pulled him into a hug, “And we’re taking steps to make sure that doesn’t happen, part of that is getting you a proper support network. And look! Now we can ask the Justice League for help.”
“If you don’t mind, why hasn’t anyone called us before now?” Wonder Woman asked.
“What? So an overshadowed Superman can run amok and then there’s a photo of me punching Superman in the face on the front of the newspaper? No thanks.” That was the last thing Danny needed.
“What do you think the magic user branch of the Justice League is bloody for?” Stinky asked loudly.
“I didn’t know there was a magic user branch!” Danny defended.
“None of us did,” Tucker added. He moved to go sit on the floor and lean against the couch, Sam joined him.
“In all fairness, we do not advertise Justice League Dark,” Wonder Woman said with a gentle smile. “But now that we know our assistance is needed we are happy to help.”
“I’m not sure what you can do at this point, we’ve locked down the main way ghosts have been getting into Amity. Mostly it’s the natural portals now, and there’s not much anyone can do about those.”
“Can you get the GIW to back off?” Sam asked.
“Oh! I hadn’t thought about that,” Danny said eagerly.
Batman frowned, “What’s the GIW?”
“Hey!” Ellie came up to the side of Wonder Woman’s chair, “Can you teach me how to sword fight? That sounds so cool!”
“Why ask her?” Danny wandered over, leaving his friends to explain the Gits in White to Batman. “You can just ask Pandora.”
“I don’t have four arms like Pandora,” Ellie whined.
“So just duplicate, it’s easy!” Danny stuck his tongue out and furrowed his brow in concentration, sweat beading on his forehead before his arms split into a second pair. Then, just like Frostbite taught him, he made four ice swords, one in each hand. “See?”
Ellie rolled her eyes, “Oh, it’s so easy! Says the guy who can’t even make one whole duplicate.”
“It’s hard!” Danny defended. “And I can, I could do it with the exo-skeleton, just… not since.” He’d been trying, but duplication was hard, he didn’t seem to have quite enough power. “Wait a minute, I have a power boost with the crowns.” Danny took a step to the left, Danny also took a step to the right. Now there were two Dannies with a perfectly normal number of arms, each holding an ice sword. Each also had a pair of crowns over their head. “Huh, so that’s what it looks like,” both Dannies said in unison.
“Ew, stop it, that’s so weird,” Ellie said in disgust.
“Hey guys! Look what I can do!” Dannies both said with a grin as he popped out several more duplicates. This was going to be fun!
---
Omake:
Danny trudged into school on Monday, chatting with Sam and Tucker, still wearing the crowns and rings along with his normal clothes. He went straight to his locker, getting ready for the day. On time for once!
“Hey Fenturd!” Dash jeered from down the hall, “Why’d you miss school on… uh… what’s that?”
Danny closed his locker and looked up at Dash, “What’s what?”
“What do you mean what’s what? What’s that above your head?”
Danny looked up, then back at Dash, “What’re you talking about?”
“Don’t play coy, there’s a crown above your head! It’s on fire?????”
“Dash, I think I would notice a floating, flaming crown above my head.”
Dash looked completely confused, he looked over at Kwan, who was also frowning. “Kwan!”
“I can see it too, it’s there.”
“Right! Hear that, Fentina?”
Danny just looked at Dash like he’d lost his mind, “This is a really weird prank.”
“I’ll prove it!” Dash whipped out his phone and took a picture, then held the screen out. “There, see?”
Danny looked at the phone, “I just see me and Sam and Tucker.” His friends also leaned in and looked at the screen.
Dash pulled his phone back and looked at it, sure enough the crown wasn’t in the photo. But it was also still floating above Danny’s head, and Kwan had also seen it. What was going on?
“Anyway, I’m gonna go turn in my homework, I don’t want to get stuck in summer school.” Danny turned and wandered off to first period, his friends in tow.
Dash was… very confused. He knows what he saw, he knows the other students saw it too!
“Isn’t that the crown the Ghost King had?” Paulina asked as Danny left.
“I… think so?” Dash said uncertainly.
“I think there were two of them,” Kwan added.
They all followed Danny to first period, they had it together after all. They arrived just after Danny, just in time to hear Mr. Lancer shout, “Sword in the Stone! Mr. Fenton, what is that over your head?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Danny answered calmly while Sam and Tucker, standing just a step behind him, were wildly shaking their heads and making various “Do not” gestures.
“I… You… that is…” Mr. Lancer glanced back and forth, clearly conflicted.
“I managed to finish that essay,” Danny said cheerfully handing it over. “Sorry about Friday, but it should be excused.”
“Yes, I was told about that… something about the Justice League?” Mr. Lancer stared at the crown.
“Yeah, I got to meet them! It was wild.” Danny smiled charmingly.
“Alright, yes, well… please take your seats, class will be starting soon.” Mr. Lancer looked at the crown one last time, then seemed to decide it wasn’t his business and to carry on like usual.
“Oh my god,” Danny whispered to Tucker and Sam as they went to their seats, “I can’t believe that worked!”
“Just your usual day in Amity Park,” Tucker said with a snicker.
Val came walking over once they were seated. She stared at the crowns over Danny’s head, then down to the rings on his fingers no one had noticed yet. Her eyes turned to narrow slits. Danny put a finger to his lips and winked.
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dollfacefantasy · 2 months ago
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SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL ♡
pairing: homelander x fem!reader
summary: homelander has taken an interest in you, vought's new intern. no matter how you look at it, as a good or bad thing, it ends the same way: him getting what he wants.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, oral (m receiving), body worship, sir kink, obsessive behavior, manipulation/coercion, age gap (reader in early 20s)
wc: 7.7k (oops lol)
a/n: hehe. never thought i would write for this man but it was pretty fun :) comm for my sweet beloved @gor3-hound love you so very much mwah mwah <33
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At the junction of the V-shaped table, Homelander sat. With his back to the skyline and his gloved hands folded in front of him, he held the posture of a statue. Ashley had been rambling on and on and fucking on for the past five minutes about shit he couldn't care less about. Her nasally voice bounced off the tile floors and painted ceiling, ricocheting around him like a rogue bullet. Only his impregnable skin didn't protect him from the discomfort of this situation.
It was moments like these that really made him regret killing Stillwell.
That woman knew how to handle things. As manipulative as she could be, at least she wasn't absolutely insufferable. How could Stan let Ashley replace her? She was a poor excuse of just about everything. Absolutely spineless, unintelligent, reactionary, and opportunistic. He really couldn't picture any person on this Earth genuinely liking her.
However in the midst of his mental complaints, he realized that the annoying sound of her speaking was directed at him. All the other stares in the room were zeroed in on him too. A-Train observed in cautious silence. Noir's goggles reflected Homelander's own image right back at him. Maeve judged with a sideways glance. And Starlight prepared for the worst.
He tore his own bright blue eyes from the door opposite the table and refocused them on Ashley. They scanned over her thinning ginger locks down to her gaudy outfit - a piss poor attempt at imitating power.
"What?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air with a force similar to one of Maeve's swords.
Ashley blinked in return. Fear swirled in her wide eyes. She tried to maintain that empowered appearance she so desperately wished was real, but he could see the innate urge to cower bubbling within her.
"Was that lineup for the funeral ok with you, Homelander? A-Train and Noir open, Starlight sings, and then you close?" she repeated.
Now it was his turn to blink. Like he could actually give a shit about the order of segments for Translucent's funeral. He swallowed hard. While she projected a mirage of power, he had to do the same with level-headedness.
"That's fine, Ashley. Have those two go first, and Starlight can follow up with Amazing Grace or whatever shitty hymns they teach in that hick town she's from, and then I can finish us out," he responded.
He could see how her knuckles were going white around the edge of her clipboard. She gripped it for comfort, as if that could save her from his potential wrath. It only irritated him more. If he wanted her dead, he would turn her to ashes where she stood. How hard she braced herself in advance wouldn't matter in the slightest. But people could be so foolish in moments of terror.
"Well speaking of that," she said before clearing her throat, an attempt at a natural transition, "We were trying to decide what song she would sing. Maybe one of our originals? Or do you think it would be more tasteful to go with something from an outside source?"
Gritting his teeth, he buried the urge to unleash the bright beams of red from his sockets. His hands slid off one another and pressed down onto the cool table.
"Do you really need me to decide what song is going to send Translucent to the grave?" he replied, "I don't care what you play, and no one else attending will either. They'll be focused on working up some tears for the useless dipshit they never had the displeasure of knowing. Instead of trying to gain their approval, we should be working on finding the next member of the Seven who can replace him. There's no use dwelling on the past. We need to be preparing for the future."
He paused to let his words permeate the room, giving everyone a chance to absorb the sentiment and adapt accordingly. With his pupils still trained on Ashley, he planned on continuing his tirade, but his train of thought came to an abrupt halt.
Soft pitter-patters of footsteps clacked down the hall outside this room. They sounded in a delicate rhythm, only audible to him. As they grew louder, he caught the scent of the source too. Airy and light. A stark contrast to the brash perfume Ashley doused herself in.
The doors at the front of the room slid apart to reveal you.
You stood there for a moment. The realization that you'd interrupted something was visible in your eyes. The small spheres cast down as you wobbled in like a fawn that sensed wolves watching from nearby.
Ashley turned to face you, a glower already set on her features. The resentment she held for everyone else in this building awoke from its usual dormant slumber because there was finally someone weaker she could take it out on.
Once you reached her, your hand rose and gave her a thin stack of papers. 
"I'm sorry for interrupting. It's a memo from 82. They made it sound urgent," you explained, everything about your temperament meek and timid.
After a brief pause to let you marinate in the few moments before your inevitable humiliation, she snatched the papers from you. Her eyes roamed over the page with disinterest. Even if the information conveyed by the small black letters was important, he doubted she would give it any reaction. She wanted to lash out, and she was going to, whether it was justified or not.
"They couldn't have emailed me this?" she snapped, as if that was something you could control.
"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll check next time," you offered.
"You better or you'll run out of next times," she threatened, "Incompetence like this won't fly here. You're in the big leagues now, so act like it. Think before you do something instead of taking commands like a lap dog."
"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking your head again.
"Don't be sorry, just do better," she commanded.
"I will," you agreed.
"Good. Just get out of here now. Go pick up my lunch," she told you.
His lips curled into a scowl as he watched the scene play out. It was pathetic - not you, but Ashley. He hated seeing the fucking smirk on her face as you walked away. She had nothing to be smug about. She was nothing more than a feral coyote going after the scraps the other predators didn't take.
To make matters worse, when she returned her attention to the group at the table, she saw the look on his face. She saw the disdain, but instead of striking regret into her, it only deepened her sense of self-satisfaction.
She thought the look was for you. That he was disgusted with your mistake. Annoyed with your intrusion.
He couldn't have that. Not when that assumption was the farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, he didn't know if he was even capable of feeling such ire towards you. Not his precious little fawn.
Rising from his seat, his glare remained on Ashley. She did show a little fear then.
"You know, I don't have all day, Ashley. I'll open Translucent's funeral, Starlight will follow up with a song, and that will be it. A-Train and Noir can have the day off, because let's be honest, nobody will give shit either way," he mocked.
"But, sir-" she said, clearly confused by his sudden impending departure.
"I have more important things to deal with. If you need anything else, I'm sure one of the others can help you," he dismissed.
With that, he stepped back from the table and began heading to the doors. He hoped if he was fast enough he could still catch you. Even in a building as sleek and modern as this one, the elevators could be quite slow.
Walking out into the hall, his head swiveled in the direction you would have gone. For once, his own portrait didn't catch his eye. He didn't even think about stopping by Stillwell's office to reminisce. Instead, he just headed down towards the elevator. His red boots thudded across smooth tile in rapid succession, covering the path you'd just taken.
Finally, after a few feet, he spotted you. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eyes glossy with embarrassment. Tip of your polished shoe tapping against the ground. You startled when his voice boomed across the space, calling out your name. So cute.
You looked at him with fear in your eyes, but disgust didn't fester in the pit of his stomach like it did when others gave him that anxious stare. Another feeling bloomed inside him, one he couldn't really place. It was just that the nervous gleam over your pupils didn't make him hate himself and all the circumstances of his life that put him in his position.
Instead, your wide eyes and pouty lips made him feel strong. You made him feel like a hero. A real one, not the artificial caricature that Vought projected to the world. With you nearby, he felt like the kind of guy who deserved the American flag blowing off his back with a pretty girl cradled in his arms and a dead enemy at his feet. When you gazed up at him, he could only imagine that the pride rushing through his chest and confidence pooling between his hips was the feeling his creators intended for him.
"Did you need something from me, sir?" you asked, reminding him that he actually had to provide a reason to talk to you. Just wanting to stare at you like a psychopath would not suffice unfortunately.
"Oh no," he waved off, "The meeting just finished up. I was heading out too. I saw you, and I realized I haven't really taken the time to get to know you yet, which is unfortunate because I usually like to be familiar with the newer people we have working with us."
A complete lie. Before you, he didn't remember ever giving any of the interns a second glance. They were true nuisances. They were Ashleys.
"Oh... well I'm around whenever you wanna talk. Ashley keeps me busy, but I'm sure I could make an exception for you," you replied.
"You absolutely can make an exception for me," he chuckled, "If Ashley gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I'll make sure she remembers who's really in charge around here."
It wasn't until he heard your heart rate increase that he realized those words probably came off as threatening. Well, they were threatening, but you weren't supposed to see him that way.
"I'm kidding," he forced out with a laugh, "Just joking around like I do... I just don't want you to worry about getting in some kind of trouble for me sniffing around you."
You huffed out an awkward laugh of your own and nodded.  "I'll be sure to make some time for you in the future then and let Ashley know it was at your direction."
"Great," he said with probably too much enthusiasm. 
His jaw clenched into one of his usual tight smiles. He averted his eyes from you and looked towards the numbers on the elevator. Fuck, it was reaching the bottom. He didn't want to let you go, but it wasn't like he could just stroll down the street with you to go get Ashley's lunch. His mind scrambled to come up with a solution.
But like your earlier intrusion into the meeting, your gentle voice cuts through the hurricane forming in his head.
"Are you alright, sir?" you ask, anxious concern written all over your features.
He refocused on you and nodded. His arm extended out behind you, his palm landing against the elevator wall. As he leaned in, he could smell your adrenaline spiking. He could hear the shift of your shoe against the ground. If only he possessed a sixth sense for the mind, so he could know what little thoughts about him were flitting through your head.
"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he answered. He smiled down at you, observing the slight nod you gave him in return.
"Of course not. It probably seems silly coming from me," you said.
His brows raised in amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
He saw the flash of regret in your eyes. The one people always gave him when he asked a question in that tone. The one that came from the panic of realizing they may have said something that offended Homelander.
You suppressed it pretty well though and brought out a smile that gave the impression that you hoped he was messing with you instead.
"Well you know... because you're you," you said and tilted your head in an innocent way that made his chest ache.
He chuckled that charming, prepackaged laugh that had been trained into him. "Even I can appreciate someone taking an interest in checking on me," he replied.
It was maddening, how bad he wanted you. He wasn't even sure when this craving had sprouted inside him. He had been so preoccupied with his affinity for Stillwell that his fixation with you struck him like a glass window in front of a flying bird. But no matter the timeframe in which it blossomed, it had taken root by now and wasn't going to go away on its own.
When he looked at you like this - staring up at him with earnest fascination - his mind drifted to darker places all on its own. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to (and really, he didn't want to). It's just how was he not supposed to be aware of the fact that it would be all too easy to take you back to his room? How could he not think about what it would feel like to have your fragile body beneath his own in private? How could he not wonder what you'd sound like crying out in a sinful mix of pleasure and pain?
Hell, how was he supposed to pretend like he couldn't just bend you over and fuck you dumb right here in the middle of this elevator if he wanted to? No one would be able to stop him. There wouldn't be a thing they could do other than watch. They could stare in horror as he used you like he deserved, as he pounded into your warm, soft, dripping hole like he needed...
Unfortunately, painting that picture in his head had his blood rushing South. He felt the subtle simmer of desire in his pelvis, and he knew in no time his length would be filling out. This suit gave him no way of hiding it either. Clearly, whoever made it hadn't anticipated the Homelander popping a boner on the job.
But luckily for him, the elevator chimed with its arrival at the bottom floor. He straightened out as you looked ahead in preparation of your departure. But before you could go, he grabbed your arm. His touch was tender, holding the same force he'd use when cradling a baby at a photo-op.
"Maybe later tonight you'd like to take me up on one of those talks? After you're done for the day, you could stop by my place. The sooner the better, right?" he asked.
Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but you still nodded. "Um... sure thing. I'll head up once I've finished all my work. It should be around six if that's ok?" you offered.
"Yeah, that works for me. I'll be waiting," he said in an attempt to be playful.
You smiled once more and then headed out of the elevator. His fingertips dragged down your arm to your wrist as you walked away before you finally slipped from his grasp. He could hear your heart pounding faster than your footsteps as you headed towards the exit of the building.
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At six o'clock sharp, a knock sounded through his penthouse. And it only took him a few seconds to swing the door open and greet you.
"There she is," he beamed with exaggerated politeness.
You smiled modestly in return, shrugging and smoothing out a crease in your blouse. "I couldn't let the leader of the seven down," you joked.
He scoffed but opened the door wider, beckoning you into his place. You took the invitation and crossed the threshold. Your eyes glanced around the place, taking note of all the things in the apartment that housed the most powerful man on Earth.
The American flag taking up an entire wall almost stopped you in your tracks. It would've been funny if it was someone else, but because it belonged to him, it stood there like a warning. You tried not to show how daunting you found it. Average people could be touchy about that famous piece of cloth. You didn't want to find out if the strongest supe felt the same through means of offending him. 
In place of letting that bother you, you shifted your attention over to all the historical pictures hanging on the walls and the sleek surfaces and drawers filled with things you couldn't begin to imagine. Your eyes casted over the statues accenting the space as well. It was all so very polished. It looked like what you'd expect the Homelander entry in an Ikea catalog to be.
"So what do you think?" he asked. He knew his words came off as stiff. Probably a little stilted sounding. He just couldn't help it. For the first time, he couldn't get a read on how you felt through physical signs alone. And right now, he really really wanted you to like him.
"It's... impressive," you answered.
But he could hear the hesitation in your voice. In each word, there was the same wavering quality to it that you get when Ashley grilled you in front of an audience. It wasn't the precious reverence that he saw in the elevator. The nervous kind of admiration you held for someone above your standing. This was just plain anxiety, and that served no purpose to him. 
Despite your trepidation however, you walked forward to the window at the back of the place. You looked out over the city in awe.
"I would love to live somewhere high up like this," you said.
He came up from behind to stand next to you in front of the glass panes. His eyes landed on your face. You stared out the window, wonder twinkling in your eyes. Your voice sounded almost breathless. It was adorable.
"No fear of heights?" he asked.
"Not when it comes to being inside. Maybe I'd be nervous if we were on a balcony or something," you replied.
"Oh come on. You'd have nothing to worry about if you were with me. I'd never let you fall," he said, dropping his voice a few octaves.
You made that cute little face again when those words hit your ears. Your eyes widened before they fell to look at your shoes. So modest, the way you shied away. He wondered if you were always so timid or if it was only when a god amongst men like himself flirted with you.
He chuckled and reached out, tilting your chin back up to look at him. "You don't need to be nervous," he soothed, "There's no safer place to be than with the Homelander, right?"
You nodded right along. His words left no room for objection.
"Good girl," he smirked and dragged a gloved thumb over your cheek. He pulled his hand back and stepped in the direction of the brown leather sectional that sat in the middle of the room.
"Come over here and sit down. We can talk," he directed.
Following him to the large couch, you took your seat near the corner. You assumed he'd sit at the other end or at least towards the middle of the perpendicular cushions, but no. He sat down in the corner with you. His body was at most a foot away.
He continued to smile at you though he didn't speak. It felt odd, sitting there in silence across from him. He wasn't doing anything overtly threatening, yet you still felt at his mercy.
"So, do you like it here so far? Do you feel like you're fitting into the Vought family?" he asked with a bit of an edge to that second word.
You nodded again. A relieved breath seeped from your lungs as the tense void in conversation came to an end. "Yeah, it's nice here. I feel like I'm learning a lot."
He chuckled and leaned back against the stiff backing of the sofa. His muscular arm draped along the top. Though it wasn't his intention to draw your focus there, he caught the way your eyes dragged over his bicep.
"That's good," he said, "It can be a lot when you're new. I wouldn't want you feeling overwhelmed."
"That's nice of you. I appreciate it, but I'm used to a busy schedule," you replied.
"You're freshly graduated, aren't you?" he checked.
"Yeah," you said, your lips quirking upwards at his guess.
"I thought so. You have that cute, wide-eyed, optimistic thing going for you."
A small laugh leaves your lips. "I know. Ashley said I'll grow out of it by the end of this quarter."
His face dropped, and he almost abandoned the prince charming act he was attempting to pull off for you. The mere mention of Ashley was enough to irk him, but the thought that she was trying to change you? Not only change you but jade you. To strip away the soft and sweet qualities that hooked him on you in the first place. It was criminal. He couldn't hide his disdain.
"You shouldn't listen to her," he said. He wasn't angry, but his cadence held intensity. "Ashley's problem is Ashley. To be honest, I don't even know why they gave her an intern. It's not like she'd be good at teaching anything when she still doesn't understand most things about our business herself."
Your fingers dug into the edge of your seat. It wouldn't have been significant in a normal conversation, but when speaking with a man who could hear a pin drop forty stories down, he noticed.
"You're still nervous," he observed.
In an instant, your hands flew to your lap, like you knew what gave your anxiety away. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt and shrugged.
"A little," you admitted.
"Are you scared of me?" he asked.
You shook your head without even thinking about the question.
"No, it's not that. I swear," you reassured, "It's just that this is a big deal for me. I'm really honored you want to get to know me, and I just want to make a good impression."
"You don't need to worry about that. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't have a good impression of you," he said.
You sighed slightly, letting out a bit of tension, but he could still smell that boosted cortisol running through your blood.
"Come here," he ordered, his voice soft but undeniably firm.
"What?" you asked.
A puff of amused air blew from his nostrils. "Come here," he repeated, "Sit closer."
As if you needed the guidance, he patted the space directly beside his hip. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes even after the gesture. The lack of understanding toward his reasoning persisted. Regardless of your skepticism however, you scooted in his direction and ended up where he wanted you.
"That's better," he said.
With careful fingers, he slipped the glove off his right hand. Your eyes locked on it in subtle awe. You'd seen this man on billboards and commercials for years. His face dominated newscasts. His voice broadcast over the radio on a weekly basis. Still, you had never seen such a human part of him. Five fingers and a palm reaching for your own.
They clasped around your hand. His skin was smooth. The gloves preserved them from any marks of experience.
"Did Ashley warn you about me?" he asked, drawing your eyes back to his own.
Your heart thundered, but you couldn't lie. Never had Vought bragged about Homelander being a human lie detector, but in this moment, you felt like that was the case.
"Yes," you responded.
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You didn't believe her, did you?" he asked.
You could tell he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.
"Yes," you whispered again.
"What did she tell you?"
It was hard to remember that conversation you'd had a few weeks ago with Ashley. Feeling like you were two seconds away from having lasers beamed through your skull made minute details fuzzy and distant, but you manage to choke a few out anyways.
"She said that you have a very specific vision for the Seven, and that you'll do anything to make your dreams reality. She was just saying you're ambitious. That you care about the greater good," you summarized.
"I have a feeling you're saying it a lot nicer than she did," he teased. He could feel the fear rolling off of you in waves, and in a moment, he would rectify that. But for right now, he didn't mind letting his precious little fawn tremble in terror for a few moments more.
"Yeah, she can be kind of blunt," you said with a shaky laugh.
"That's one word for it," he said.
"She's not gonna get in trouble because of what I said, is she?" you asked.
He couldn't help laughing at that. The sound came out low and throaty. You were just so fucking pure. Worried about protecting someone who wouldn't hesitate for a second to sell you out if it meant she could climb up another rung on the corporate ladder.
His exposed thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles. "No. Of course not. We're just talking," he said.
He leaned in closer to you, positioning his mouth in close proximity to your ear. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.
"I appreciate your honesty though. Ashley probably couldn't tell you this, but I appreciate a loyal girl like you," he murmured.
On both your hand and through his glove in contact with your chin, he could feel your skin heat up.
"Oh... thank you, sir," you said.
He chuckled. His fingers squished into the flesh of your cheeks, making your lips puff out as though they were seeking a kiss.
"So polite, but I like that. We need more people here who understand their place," he said.
At this point, the gravity of your circumstances began to settle on you. Your fear had worn off a bit, and you realized what a compromising position he had you in. With one tight squeeze, he could crush every bone in your face.
Out of instinct, you tried pulling back a little. You didn't make it obvious, only attempting to gain a few inches of space.
That was a few inches too many though. He tightened his grip and kept you where he wanted you.
"Ah ah," he tutted, "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to be scared? I'm not going to hurt you."
You dropped the resistance right then and there. It wasn't worth pursuing. If he didn't want you getting away, you weren't getting away.
He took a few more seconds to study your face, taking in every minutiae of your expressions. Then, his hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you into his lap. His thighs were firm against your ass, both rigid in how he carried himself and defined from the pure muscle that made them up.
His hands smoothed up and down your sides, coasting over each crease in your blouse. He massaged your soft tissue with gentle squeezes from the beginning of your bra down to the swell of your hips.
"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, "You fit here like you were made for me."
You vibrated in his grasp. He could feel the way you quivered with the urge to pull away.
"Thank you, s-sir," you stammered, "I really appreciate it but-"
"But nothing," he cut you off.
"But I don't think we should be... doing this," you tried to continue anyway.
"Why not?" he asked. Though his tone made it obvious that no matter what reason you provided, it wouldn't change his mind.
"Because you're like my boss, y'know? And I worked really hard to get my spot here, and I don't want people thinking I slept my way to where I am," you explained, "You're really nice, and I admire you a lot, but it wouldn't be right."
He didn't respond immediately. He paused and let your words hang in the air for a few moments.
"You know," he finally spoke, "I don't think you understand how things work around here. It doesn't matter what anyone else in this building thinks. Only me."
You blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to such an assertion. It didn't matter though. He continued without your input.
"What I do with you, how I feel about you - no one else will know about it unless you tell them. But even if you do and even if they care, there isn't a thing they'll do about it. There's not a thing they can do about it," he continued.
"I still don't think it's a good idea," you maintained.
"Good thing this isn't for you to think about then," he mocked, "You're a fast learner. You'll figure it out soon enough. I am God in this tower. And a god doesn't listen to his subjects. He guides them. He knows best."
One of his hands slid up your tummy and over your chest onto your throat. He cupped your jaw and swiped his thumb back and forth across your bottom lip.
"What did Ashley tell you about me?" he asked.
"That no one gets in your way."
"Good. And she was right. No one gets in my way. Nothing stops me from getting what I want. And I've wanted you for too fucking long not to try you out."
That set of fingers on your chin pulled your face towards his and brought you into a kiss. You froze against his lips. It felt as though all of time stopped. This high up, you couldn't hear the sounds of the city outside the penthouse. No one existed in this moment but you and him.
Unlike you, he melted into the exchange. He sighed against your skin and pulled you flush against his toned body. After a second to let you come to terms with what was happening, he kissed you again. His lips sucked on yours gently, attempting to coax you into returning the affection.
The most he got is you puckering them up ever so slightly.
He pulled away with frustration in his eyes and grabbed your face, jerking you a little to look at him.
"Don't act like you don't want this. I know you do," he said, "You're scared, but you don't need to be. Relax and let yourself enjoy this. It's not everyday that the most powerful man on earth wants to fuck you."
Your eyes blew up like little saucers, but before you could really process the directness of what he'd said, he was kissing you again. This time it wasn't as nerve wracking. You softened up a little and kissed back.
You didn't put much effort into it. Your lips responded like this was a juvenile first date. But he didn't let up. He didn't let you give him anything less than your best. His hands roamed across your body. They groped and fondled your breasts and then migrated South to feel up your ass through your pencil skirt.
Your muscles started to loosen up after a minute or so. You told yourself this wasn't so bad. He was being gentle so far, and for someone with his abilities, you wanted it to stay that way. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. With that as leverage, you deepened the kiss.
He groaned as soon as you started to give in. His hands fell to your hips and tugged you so that you were straddling him. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing around his apartment. You could tell he held back. A real spank from Homelander could shatter your hip, but this one barely even stung. Maybe he did like you.
His fingers came up and with a sharp tug, he popped the front of your top loose. The column of buttons sprung free. The strips of cloth fell away to each of your sides, exposing a sliver of your skin. He furthered it by pulling off the garment entirely. His eyes trailed along your bare shoulders to your collar bone before finally landing on your breasts. He gave them a firm squeeze, kneading them through the barrier of your bra.
Meanwhile you rolled your hips down on his lap. Immediately, you felt his bulge that had risen to attention between your thighs. You did it again and then again. Each time you ground yourself against him with more pressure.
He grunted, and his eyes fluttered. His hands returned to your waist and gripped you hard, guiding your movements. He seemed transfixed for a few moments, as if he couldn't decide his next move.
After a few seconds though, he got his momentum back. He yanked you off his lap and flipped over so that you were seated on the couch again.
He rose to his feet before you. There your eyes scanned over his body from his tousled blond hair and his kiss-swollen red lips to his sculpted abdomen and his swelling erection. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.
Once your arm was limp on the couch again, he removed his other glove. He dropped it to the floor before bringing his right boot to the spot on the sofa next to you. He unzipped the red shoe and then discarded it like he had with the other item. The other boot followed the same routine.
"I don't let just anyone see me like this," he told you as his fingers began to undo his collar, "You should feel lucky."
Lucky wasn't the word you would use to describe your feelings in this situation. Maybe special. Or distinct. Individual. Either way, you continued to watch. Your eyes glided over his figure as he pulled away the tight blue costume that seemed like a second-skin for how much he wore it.
His defined chest came into view. Your reluctance hadn't vanished all together just yet, but at this point, it was fading fast. Pale hair dusted the muscular expanse and trailed down his stomach to the waistband of the bottoms. The waistband he soon hooked his fingers over and peeled down.
He dropped the scaled navy fabric to the ground before kicking it away, leaving himself in just a small pair of boxers. His hand came down and rubbed the swollen tent at the front while his eyes lingered on you.
"Do you want to touch?" he asked.
You nodded. It wasn't a hard decision. This was still a bad idea. You hadn't changed your mind on that. But at this point, what else was there to do? Defying Homelander wasn't an option for anyone on this planet ever. You were no different.
"Ask," he commanded.
"Please can I touch you?" you said.
"Please what?"
"Please, sir. Can I touch you?"
"Good girl," he praised before nodding, "Go for it."
You reached out, this time successfully. Your palm landed flat on his stomach. You held it there for a moment, just feeling his skin. In a way, it was unreal. To feel that someone propped up on the world's pedestal was flesh and blood like you.
Rubbing up and down, you continued getting a feel for his body. He smirked at your wonder before guiding you up by the elbow.
"Stand up and do it right," he said.
"Sorry."
The word came from your mouth automatically. You brought your other hand up to his chest and felt the muscles in his chest. Everything was so built. You expected that, but it was still odd to feel beneath your fingertips. He felt like a living ken doll. You almost didn't believe if he dropped his boxers there would be a real cock there.
Your hands traced up to his shoulders with precision. They explored down his biceps and forearms. And then finally, you brought your lips into his chest. He sighed and tilted his head back, relishing the feeling.
You kissed all over, swirling your tongue and tracing shapes onto his skin. It was almost entrancing, to be so focused on someone like this. You barely noticed as he turned the two of you and sat himself down on the couch, lowering you to your knees.
You worked your mouth down his abs, licking and kissing the twitching muscles. Your fingernails scraped up his sides and then down onto his thighs. When your lips reached the waistband of his boxers, your eyes glanced up at him.
"Can I take them off, sir?" you asked.
He smirked at the title. Only one word of correction and he'd trained that phrase into you.
"Yes," he answered. It was a simple answer. All that was required for someone so naturally obedient.
You took it in stride, tucking your fingers over the elastic and tearing them down. His hard cock popped up and slapped against his pelvis. You couldn't have been happier about your earlier ken doll theory being proven wrong. The sight of his dick was enough to make you drool. It was better than any work of art out there.
It rested against his body at the perfect length, the perfect girth. The tip flushed beautiful red and pearly white beads of precum smeared at the top. Your fingers wrapped around it and gave it a few strokes, testing the waters.
His hand came down and petted your head. He watched as you studied the appendage, as you experimented with your own touch. It was so fucking cute he thought he might cum right then and there. Fuck, he thought you were sweet every moment he had eyes on you, but right now, you were darling. You were doing as he said. Accepting your place at the feet of a superior being.
"Put it in your mouth," he said from above, "I want you to taste it."
There was no hesitation on your end this time around.
"Yes sir," you responded before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.
He groaned and let his chest hollow out with a harsh exhale. Your mouth was so warm and wet, nice and snug around his length. He rocked his hips up, pushing it further into your throat. He expected a small gag or sputter, but instead you moaned. You shut your eyes and flattened your tongue against his shaft before beginning to bob your head.
"Fuck," he hissed. His legs tensed up, and he pressed down on your head. That did get a tiny gag out of you. You gripped his hips to stabilize yourself though and stayed in place. Your nose nestled against the darker curls of hair that sat at the base of his cock.
Spit leaked from your mouth and dribbled onto his skin below. He took a few moments to just enjoy the feeling of his dick down your throat. The sight of his sweet, innocent girl choking on his cock. Then he let you pull off and catch your breath. 
You took a few deep puffs, letting the spots clear from your vision before you dove back in for more. Your hand stroked the lower part of him your mouth didn't cover in its shallow sucks while your other set of fingers caressed his balls tenderly.
He'd never experienced devotion. As much as it pained him to ever acknowledge, his sexual experiences had been lackluster up until now. There were the times with Maeve, but they always left something to be desired for him. Then there was the time with Stillwell that ended before it really started. In either case, no one had ever put all of themselves into pleasuring him like you were doing right now. It drove him wild. He could feel his sac tightening up, and he knew he had to get you off.
Planting one hand on each side of your head, he tugged you back. You looked up at him with glossy, cock-drunk eyes and saliva-coated lips. He swiped some of the mess away before addressing you.
"You're doing so good for me, but I think you're ready for more, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," you agreed.
"My perfect pet," he crooned and pulled you up onto the couch.
He laid you flat on your back and ripped your skirt and panties off in one go. His eyes drank in the sight of your nude lower half, but he didn't spend much time savoring it. He spread you out, slotting himself against your center.
With a few rocks of his hips, he dragged his length through your wetness. He let the sticky fluid coat his shaft, and then he sunk in. His tip bullied its way into your entrance and the rest of him followed. You whined at the stretch. Your walls clamped around him, eager to accept the intrusion.
"Atta girl," he grunted as he worked himself all the way in.
His hips connected with your ass, but he still bucked them, trying to get more. You yelped at the force. He was already buried inside you. Anymore and his tip would be nudging the entrance to your womb.
Fortunately for you, he pulled his hips back, giving you a short break from feeling so full. It was short lived though. Seconds later he snapped back in. That began the quick rhythm he set into. It was desperate and needy, emotions he'd tried to hide until this point.
You whimpered as your body bobbed with the momentum. His thrusts bounced you back and forth. The sounds of his body smacking against yours filled the room. His fingers dug into your waist hard enough to bruise. You didn't complain about the minor pain though because you could tell he was holding back in every other regard. If a few marks on your side kept you from being pulverized by a super cock, then that was a burden you were willing to carry.
Above you, he starts to pant. His breaths leave him raggedly huffing, sucking down what oxygen he can get in the midst of rutting into you. He tilts his head down at you and gazes at your blissed out face with lidded eyes.
"I could have anyone. Any person on this Earth would be mine if I wanted them to be. But the only one I want is you. Doesn't that feel good?" he breathed.
"Yes!" you cried out. Your back arched up off the couch. "Feels so fucking good, sir."
He leaned into you more, squishing your body into the surface below. Your thighs pressed against your tummy as he bent you.
"Yeah, it does," he grunted, "It's all there is. It's all you need to think about. How you're all mine."
"Mhm," you whined with a lazy nod. You were getting closer to cumming and responding to his words was taking a lower priority in your mind.
"And to think you tried to deny yourself of it," he mocked. He clenched his jaw and slammed into you harder.
You shrieked and clutched his shoulders. In the back of your mind, you hoped his penthouse was sound proofed or at least enough distance from the nearest one. Otherwise you wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident for it to spread throughout the tower.
"I knew better, didn't I? I knew this is what you needed," he said.
Again, you nodded. You felt the heat in your belly reaching the boiling point.
"Say it," he huffed.
You tried to force it out, but your own hiccuped sob of pleasure cut you off. He didn't give you a break though. He stared down at you with expectation, so you continued.
"You know best- uh, fuck- you know best, sir," you whined.
"Good fucking girl," he growled on top of you.
He was already close from the blowjob you'd given him. Only a few strokes more, and he was ready to explode. He swiveled his hips, angling them upwards to pound into that special spot that would make you see stars and stripes.
You mewled when you came. Your body trembled harder than it did when you were scared. Arousal gushed out of you and coated his skin. He huffed and buried his face in your neck before letting go.
Everything faded into the background as you laid underneath him in the haze that came after the absolute high of pleasure. Now you could feel his heartbeat too. The organ thundered against his chest over and over as he came down.
Minutes later he pulled back. His knuckles caressed down your jawline before he climbed off of you entirely. He sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. You weren't sure whether you were supposed to pick up your stuff and leave or follow along with him and stay close to his side. There was no real indication of what he wanted in this moment, but he turned to smile at you and huffed out a laugh.
"I think I'll keep you with me more often now. Really show you the ropes of fitting in around here."
You sat up and nodded awkwardly. He leaned toward you, cupping your cheek.
"I'll be a much better teacher than Ashley ever was," he said. His arm snaked around you and pulled you to his chest again. "No more errands or coffee runs. I'll show you things you need. Things that you'll enjoy."
He ran his fingers over your face and kissed your temple. The touches were tender against your skin. They would have been romantic if your mind wasn't racing with what this all meant in terms of your job and the grand scheme of your future.
Looking at him though, he wasn't worried at all. He smiled down at you before whispering once more.
"My sweet little pet. All mine now."
1K notes · View notes
kayewrite · 5 months ago
Text
At the same time, I wanna hug you
(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)
seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)
summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?
an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading
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Kim Seungmin.
You hated that very name.
You hated his existence.
You hated his smirk.
You hated that he breathes.
You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.
Like now.
You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.
You already knew your fate.
"Ma'am, someone’s late again."
You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.
You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.
The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.
"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.
“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.
“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”
Damn.
You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.
--
You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.
Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.
"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.
Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.
“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”
He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”
You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”
You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.
One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.
"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.
He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."
You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"
"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."
Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.
Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.
Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"
You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.
"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.
Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.
Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.
If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.
Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.
Justice had never tasted so sweet.
---
"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.
Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.
You flipped him the finger.
‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?
The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.
If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.
You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.
Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.
"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."
"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."
"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."
"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.
"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."
And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.
"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.
Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.
"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.
And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.
--
It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.
Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.
Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.
A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.
"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.
"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.
He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"
"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.
Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"
You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"
Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."
Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.
Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.
Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.
You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"
He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."
You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"
"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.
You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"
"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"
"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."
He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."
"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."
Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.
“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”
It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.
“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.
“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.
“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.
With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?
“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.
Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.
“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.
“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.
“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.
“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.
“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.
“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.
You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.
“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”
“I hate you.”
“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.
Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.
“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.
“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.
“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.
“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.
“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.
“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.
“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”
Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.
“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.
You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.
Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!
“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”
“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.
“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.
“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.
“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.
As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.
--
You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.
“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.
“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.
“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.
“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”
“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.
It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.
“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.
“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.
“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.
“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.
He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.
When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”
“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.
You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”
“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.
“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.
He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”
“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.
When would this bickering ever end?
“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.
“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”
“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.
“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”
“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.
Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”
You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.
You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.
“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.
You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”
You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”
Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.
“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.
You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”
“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”
You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”
You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.
Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”
You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”
Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”
Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.
“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.
You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.
Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”
You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”
“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.
“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.
You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.
With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.
--
The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.
Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.
To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.
Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.
After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”
A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”
“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”
“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.
As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.
At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.
“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.
Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.
“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”
“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”
“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.
“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.
“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”
Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”
“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”
"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."
As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.
“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”
“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.
“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.
--
As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.
One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.
“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.
You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”
As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.
Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.
During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.
You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.
When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.
From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.
Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.
As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.
---
The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.
As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”
You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”
He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"
You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.
“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.
You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”
Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.
“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.
“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.
“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.
“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.
You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”
Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.
“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.
Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.
The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.
---
It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.
But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.
“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”
The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.
"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.
You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.
“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”
You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.
“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”
“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.
You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.
---
Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.
Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.
“Ma'am!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.
But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”
Your eyes flew open in shock. What?
“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.
Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.
You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.
--
Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.
As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.
He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”
“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”
You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”
“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.
--
Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.
You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.
"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.
This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.
You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.
“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”
With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”
Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.
You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”
“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.
Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.
“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.
“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.
You both threw out your hands, and you won.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.
He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”
You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.
“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”
Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”
You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”
“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”
As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”
In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.
Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”
“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.
“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.
--
Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.
Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”
“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.
As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.
Wow, he was really talented.
You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.
Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.
You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.
The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.
You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.
You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”
Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”
Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”
You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”
Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”
You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.
Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”
You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”
--
Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.
You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”
Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”
You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”
“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.
You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”
Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”
You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”
“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”
You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”
Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”
You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”
Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”
You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”
Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."
You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”
--
It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.
Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.
“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”
You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.
Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”
You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”
“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”
You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”
“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.
"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,
"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."
You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.
--
 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”
Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”
Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”
Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”
“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”
Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”
Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”
Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”
As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.
--
Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.
As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.
"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.
Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.
You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."
Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.
But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.
"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."
But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.
PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.
The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.
"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.
But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.
The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.
What is up with him?
Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.
When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.
After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.
“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.
He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”
Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.
You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”
He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”
The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.
Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.
“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”
Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”
You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”
“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”
Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”
“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?
Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”
You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.
You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.
Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“I...”
Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”
He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.
You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.
-
In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.
Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.
"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.
"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.
You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."
"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.
You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.
Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.
Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.
You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"
Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."
Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."
You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"
His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"
"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.
Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."
You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."
His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."
You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.
"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.
His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.
"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?
"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"
He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."
His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.
"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."
He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.
Seungmin liked you.
And somehow, deep down, you’d known.
-
The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.
As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.
Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.
The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?
Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.
You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.
Seungmin.
You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.
And then came the moment. The pivotal line.
As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.
Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.
Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.
Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.
You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.
The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.
As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.
For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.
-
a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!
sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!
part 2 here!
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moonmaiden1996 · 3 months ago
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There's a Dog in My Spot
Astarion catches you in bed with with someone else. Humour
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The soft glow of the campfire had long since faded, leaving the world swathed in a serene, quiet darkness. the last embers of the fire softly curling in the gentle wind. The night should have been peaceful—ideal for restful slumber or perhaps something more mischievous.
Astarion had been on a hunt, reveling in the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of finding a particularly robust boar. Its blood was rich, leaving him warm and feeling slightly frisky. Frisky enough to perhaps to indulge in a little rump in your bedroll tonight. He made his way back to camp, eager to spend the night in the company of his beloved partner-in-crime.
But instead of a warm welcome, he found this.
A sharp intake of breath escaped him as his crimson eyes settled on the sight before him. “Absolutely unacceptable,” he muttered, his voice slicing through the still night like a dagger.
You stirred, cracking one eye open groggily. “Huh… what?”
“This!” Astarion hissed, gesturing dramatically toward the foot of your bedroll while tapping his foot with exaggerated impatience. “This betrayal of the highest order!”
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you blinked blearily, trying to follow his gaze. It led you to Scratch, who lay blissfully curled up, tail twitching in his sleep.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice heavy with sleep.
He crossed his arms, looking affronted. “Your furry companion has claimed my spot—right there.” He jabbed a finger at the space beside you. “My place, darling. Mine. I can hardly believe my eyes.”
Still half-asleep, you blinked again. “Astarion, it’s just Scratch. He’s warm, and he was already here when I laid down.”
“That is no excuse!” he declared, his tone sharp and faintly wounded. “I step away for a mere moment—one!—and suddenly, I’m replaced in your bed by a mangy mutt? What’s next? A bear? A snake? Or…” He shuddered dramatically. “Even worse, Gale?”
Suppressing a laugh, you sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I am not,” he insisted, clutching his chest as though he’d been gravely injured. “I’m simply pointing out the sheer audacity of this situation. And look at him! He doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty!”
Scratch, oblivious to the chaos, let out a soft snore and stretched his paws, clearly unbothered.
Your lips twitched as you fought to keep from laughing. “If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just move him?”
Astarion shot the sleeping dog a look of disdain mingled with reluctant hesitation. “Move him? Me? With my hands? Darling, he drools.”
Rolling your eyes, you sat up fully. “Fine. I’ll move him.”
“Absolutely not,” Astarion said quickly, stepping forward as though to stop you. “You’ve done quite enough damage by letting this happen in the first place. I’ll… handle it.”
Lowering himself into a crouch, he reached out, poking Scratch’s side with the utmost delicacy. “You. Yes, you, fur-covered usurper. Off you go.”
Scratch stirred, blinking awake before wagging his tail with unbridled enthusiasm. In a display of canine affection, he licked Astarion’s outstretched hand, earning a strangled noise of horror.
“Ugh! Disgusting!” Astarion recoiled, wiping his hand furiously on his trousers as though he’d been branded. He turned to glare at you, as if this entire ordeal was your fault. “I’ll need to disinfect thoroughly after this.”
Despite his protests, Scratch eventually rose, stretching lazily before padding a few steps away to settle down once more with a contented yawn.
“There,” Astarion said, standing and dusting off his hands as though he’d performed a monumental task. “Crisis averted.”
You shook your head, amused. “You’re absurd. You know that, right?”
“Am I?” he asked, sliding gracefully into the now-vacant spot beside you. “Or am I simply a man who understands his worth?” He flashed you a smug smirk, leaning back with all the self-satisfaction of someone who had just triumphed over a formidable foe.
Smiling, you laid back down, tugging the blanket over both of you. “You’re something, all right.”
“Something irresistible,” he quipped, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.
You let out a sleepy chuckle, nestling against him. “Goodnight, Astarion.”
His voice softened, his earlier indignation melting away as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, my darling.”
Nearby, Scratch let out another snore, causing Astarion to sigh in exasperation. “But truly, the audacity of that dog…”
You only smiled, drifting off to sleep, content in the knowledge that both your vampire and your canine were exactly where they belonged.
Sooooo- What do you think? I am loving writing these cute little fics. As always LIKE.COMMENT.REVIEW. If you have a request make sure to leave anything you want to see.
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pitchsidestories · 3 months ago
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el sueño de una niña (1) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader
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part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2175
a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜
“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”
Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.
That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.
Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.
Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 
“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.
“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.
“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.
“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.
“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.
This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”
“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.
“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.
“Hm..”
“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.
“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.
“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.
“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.
“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.
“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.
“Okay?”
“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.
“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.
“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.
“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.
“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.
“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.
“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.
Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.
The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.
“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”
Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.
Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“
Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“
“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.
Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“
Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.
For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.
Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.
Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”
“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.
“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.
“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“
“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.
Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“
“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.
Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“
“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.
Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”
“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.
“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.
 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.
Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.
“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”
“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.
“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.
“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.
“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  
“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.
“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.
“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.
“Trust me.”, you answered softly.
After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”
“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.
“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.
“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.
“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.
“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.
“I see.”
“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.
You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“
“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“
You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“
“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.
You tilted your head: “Good point.“
“So?”
“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.
Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“
“You’re welcome, Jenni.“
The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”
“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.
She was still here, still in your bed.
“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.
“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.
You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.
“It’s beautiful.“
“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.
While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”
“Yes, why not?”
You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.
“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.
Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“
“You mean it?”
“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.
Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.
Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”
Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”
“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.
“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“
Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?
With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“
The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.
In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.
“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.
“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.
With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”
“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.
“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.
“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.
“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.
The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.
“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.
“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.
“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.
“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.
“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.
“Yes.”, she confirmed.
“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.
Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.
Keep dreaming.
gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share
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ceilidho · 4 months ago
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fear of god
prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 2 masterlist
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How am I hearing you?
That should be the first question out of your mouth, but instead what comes out is a meek trembling of words. “E-excuse me?”
His smile doesn’t waver. “Asked if you could let me in, love. I’m a bit turned around.”
You pause for a moment to take stock of the situation. A programming that has served your species since the dawn of time quietly whispers something to you, its voice unintelligible but meaningful. The instinct to help kicks in with the man’s plea, but your own confusion stays its corresponding response. 
There’s a man outside the ship knocking on the window and you’ve never seen his face before. 
“Where did you—where did you even come from?” you ask. 
He waves a hand and it drifts slowly beside his helmet, encumbered by the lack of gravity. “Around. Lost contact with my crew and I’ve been trying to get some help ever since.”
His tone is too blasé for the situation. You’d expect fear or urgency, but he speaks as though reassuring you.
“Was there another ship nearby?” You don’t remember Graves mentioning any other ships in this sector of the solar system. With many funded by private corporations or individuals, the team might not be always privy to all ongoing missions, but the commander would have known if there was a ship within a lunar distance. 
“At some point,” he says, still smiling. Too friendly. 
It’s been months since you spoke to a man your age that you hadn’t seen drink their own piss via the ship’s recycled water filtration system. Not to shame anyone—you’re part of that statistic too—but you’ve realized in the past few weeks how far that knowledge has gone towards dampening any burgeoning attraction to anyone.  
But it occurs to you again—a thought burrowing into the recesses of your mind, like a phantom of itself, a loon call over a still lake—that you are hearing someone from outside the ship. Sound traveling through nothing; the very absence of sound. 
The thought is too big for your head, but it fits itself in anyway. It stretches uncomfortably because material reality usually wins in the end. What you can see and hear, you can trust. You know the world through what appears in front of you; that's always how it's been.
This time though, there's something you can't quite fit in your head.
“Wait, let me…let me get some help,” you tell him, taking a step away from the window. Your stomach clenches when he frowns, brows pulled together in concern.
“You sure, love? I can walk you through opening the doors if you need help. Same as my ship, I bet.” He chuckles nervously. “Been out here awhile now; not sure how much oxygen I’ve got left in the tank, if I’m honest.”
That almost gets you, but you remember protocol. For all your shortcomings, you’ve never not followed protocol. Opening the airlock and letting anyone in or out is a process strictly monitored by the commander, and you have no authority to grant anyone access without express permission. You know the access codes, of course, for security and safety reasons, but despite the sudden urgency in his voice, you haven’t been authorized to let him in. 
And then there’s the matter of—
Again, though his frame fills up most of the porthole, when you look out into the depths of space around him, you see nothing out there. You wonder if perhaps Graves purposefully omitted any mention of receiving a distress call from a ship with a lost crew member. 
It feels less than likely. 
“I’ll be back.” You take another step back, heart fluttering in your chest. “Just…wait. I’ll—”
The rest of your sentence never comes, tucked beneath your tongue. Your feet are already taking you away.
The metal floor clangs under your feet as you stumble away and down the hall towards the cargo hold. You can hear the man yell after you, his voice growing more and more distant the farther you run, until its echo lingers only in your head. 
Down the stairs and through the main corridor, you pass the medbay on your way to the cargo hold, the room at the far end of the spacecraft accessible only by descending below the orlop deck. You come galloping down the stairs so fast that you nearly trip over the last one. 
The doors to the hold slide open at your approach. Though the cargo hold on the ship isn’t as gargantuan as some you’ve seen before, it’s still big enough for your footsteps to echo across the room when you make your way inside. Crates holding the ship’s sampling gear and equipment are tied down to the floor by fiber-reinforced polymer straps and covered by heavy-duty nets. The smell of fuel and ozone is pungent, thick in the air. 
The temperature in the hold is a degree or two hotter than the rest of the ship, putting you instantly on edge. Irritable; uncomfortable. Heat clings to the grooves of your skin, sinking past the epidermis. You tug your collar out with a finger. 
“Hello?” you call out into the hold, voice reverberating off the walls.
No one responds. Perhaps Farah did come for her brother, as she mentioned earlier. It wouldn’t do for you to linger in the empty hold then, the man outside the ship still a pressing concern. 
The ceiling is banded by metal beams, ferrous pipes running up the walls to the rafters, gurgling and whistling as water passes through. You can see the shoddy workmanship in the exposed scaffolding, areas that should’ve long ago been covered up or hidden away behind walls. A pipe in a far corner overhead drips onto the concrete below. 
“Looking for someone?” a voice asks from directly behind you, and your heart jumps into your throat at the sudden sound. 
When you whirl around, Hadir stands in the middle of the cargo hold, shoulders slouched and hands stuffed in his pockets. He lifts an eyebrow at the look on your face. Though he shares some features in common with his sister, his build is entirely different; stockier, slightly softer. Round jaw to her sharp. The same widow’s peak though, and the same nose. 
“Yeah, hi—morning, by the way.” You gesture with your thumb towards the door. “I, just…this is going to sound wild, but I think I just…I think someone’s outside the ship.”
The easy look falls off his face in favor of a more serious expression. 
“Outside the ship?” he repeats in disbelief. 
“Yes, I know, but I swear. Can you just—” Frustration makes you curt. Partial embarrassment too because you know how it sounds. 
There shouldn’t be anyone outside the ship because you’re in the middle of nowhere with no other spaceships around for hundreds of thousands of miles. There shouldn’t be anything other than carbonaceous and silicate asteroids drifting outside the ship. Rubble as small as grains of sand.  
He frowns. “Did someone get locked out of the ship? Why didn’t you go get Graves?”
“It’s not—” Again, you can’t seem to find the words, the right one getting lost in translation. “It’s not someone from the crew.”
Something shifts across his face, a micro-expression that makes your throat tighten involuntarily, but he nods and follows you out of the hold. 
Nerves plague you on the walk back to the porthole. Since you lead the way, you can’t look back and gauge Hadir’s expression, but you can feel his eyes heavy on your back. Skepticism still thick in the air, so rich you can almost taste it. You can hardly blame him. Were it anyone else, you’d think them delusional too. 
The walk back feels twice as long somehow. At the top of the staircase, you breathe quietly out of your mouth in order to catch your breath without letting on how winded you are. Hadir’s footsteps echo yours, a beat off the entire walk back to the corridor you left just a few minutes ago. 
When the porthole finally comes into view, you freeze, causing him to nearly walk right into you. Any apology for the sudden halt doesn't get off the back of your tongue.
A dark, empty nothingness perforated by light in the far off reaches of space. Your throat goes dry at the sight. 
“There was someone outside,” you say. It comes out whispery thin. 
You almost don’t need him to walk up to the glass and look out, knowing already what he’ll see. It’s immediately evident, the porthole free of anyone or anything obscuring the hazy band of stars off in the distance.
There’s no way to see Hadir’s expression as anything other than concerned. He peers out of the porthole again, twisting his head to the right and left in order to see as far as the view extends. 
“I, uh…I don’t see anything out there,” he finally admits, a tad awkwardly. He has a hard time meeting your eyes. 
“Oh,” you reply, nonplussed.  
You step up to the window alongside him. Stars leak out of the blackness of space; eternal night. It’s a long way from anywhere out here. 
“He might’ve gone to another window.”
For a beat, Hadir doesn’t respond. You’re both thinking the same thing. It’s unlikely that if anyone were out stranded in the middle of space that they’d float aimlessly around their only means of salvation rather than just wait for help. 
“Maybe you just saw your own reflection,” Hadir suggests. "It happens. Freaks me out too sometimes."
The tone of voice he uses irks you; it’s vaguely placating, like he’s trying to reassure you as well as himself.
There’s nothing wrong with you though. You saw what you saw and heard what you heard. There was a man outside the porthole hovering in space and he spoke to you. 
“Yeah, maybe,” you say instead. 
You stare at the faint, runny outline of your own face in the window. No matter how hard you stare, you can’t imagine her suddenly opening her mouth and talking to you. 
When the two of you finally part ways, you head for the medbay on autopilot. The mug that was in your hand is long gone—probably accidentally put down when you went looking for Hadir in the cargo hold—and you regret not stopping by the galley for a refill. 
It bothers you that Hadir went the other way, towards the cockpit instead of back to the cargo hold. You wonder whether someone called him up before you found him. 
The medical unit on this ship is smaller than what you’re used to for interplanetary travel. They’ve supplied you with the equipment necessary for simple surgeries and nothing more; anything more complex is left to chance and divine intervention. The operating table in the center of the room comes equipped with a scanner capable of medical imaging and diagnosing. 
It’s an incredibly insular room on top of that, having been designed without windows. Not atypical for a medical bay. Though bigger than your personal quarters, you often find yourself on edge when spending any prolonged amount of time in your work station. 
For all of its flaws, the ship is equipped with a rudimentary form of artificial intelligence. It mainly assists with performing diagnostics, assisting with determining the best trajectory for the spacecraft, and enabling autonomous navigation, the latter function being temporarily suspended after the impact from the day before, but it has some use. You’re especially lucky that every computer on board gives you access to the AI, meaning that you can stay cooped up in the medical unit rather than venturing back to the cockpit where your inquiry might wind up drawing more attention to you than you’d like. 
You lean forward in your chair, a leg tucked into your chest as you flip a switch on the dashboard on the wall behind the computer and then a button on the keyword, the familiar blip letting you know to speak. 
“Ship, please scan the perimeter for any nearby foreign objects.”
Chewing your nails and staring at the computer, you watch it light up, words and symbols flashing across the screen, buttons flicking on and off on the dashboard behind it. The ship rumbles around you as it scans the surrounding vacuum of space for anything with mass. The foot still touching the ground taps, a restless twitch running through your leg. 
The blip of completion makes you jolt in your chair. 
No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior
You press the button again. “That’s—that’s not possible, Ship. I saw someone out the window.”
When you let go of the button again, the computer goes quiet, running through another round of calculations, performing the same diagnostic again. Another distended moment of anticipation. You hold your breath until the computer beeps, the perimeter inspection complete. 
Scan complete
No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior
The secondary confirmation makes your stomach sink. 
It’s difficult to articulate the feeling in your chest. Halfway between disbelief and unease. Perhaps a simple error in judgment, but you can’t simply look past the voice you heard from the astronaut outside the porthole. In your life, you’ve made plenty of mistakes and bad calls; you’ve run the gamut of mistakes, everything from going back to old flings to nearly misdiagnosing a patient. 
You have never seen things that weren’t there. 
Still, the reading on the screen doesn’t waver. You stare at it until your watering eyes force you to blink. 
You chew the nail of your middle finger until it tears. Sweat slicks the small of your back and the soft skin under your arms. 
“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “Okay.”
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rosaeh · 16 days ago
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boyfriend!jason todd & work song by hozier
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Boys workin' on empty Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love, I could barely eat There's nothin' sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me
late night patrol during the summer, and jason finds himself starving. but all he can think about is you. not about the food that's waiting for him in the fridge, but you. you, who -he hopes- is sleeping in bed and not waiting for him on the couch. not that he minds much. when you do wait for him -no matter how much he asked you not to- he would find you asleep on the couch, then would pick you up, and lay you down on the bed.
jason doesn't mind. he likes that you actually care enough to wait for him. likes that it gives him an excuse to hold you close.
but he doesn't actually like that you're depriving yourself of your sleep over him -you'll tell him it's really no big deal, but he wouldn't hear any of it. doesn't like that you end up sleeping on the couch, when the bed is much more comfortable, and won't cause you any pain.
anyway, he knows the minute he will be back to your shared apartment, the first thing he will do won't be eating, but crawling into bed with you. holding you close enough to fulfil his starvation.
and there is no other places he would rather be than in your arms.
When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her
and he knows that, if something bad were ever to happen to him, while away from you, he would crawl his way to you too. no matter what it takes him, he would come to you. even in death. because you are home to him.
after all, he already crawled his way out of a grave once, and he'll be willing to do it again for you. with you in mind ? jason knows he would do anything in his will power to come back to you. the mere thought of you is enough to motivate him to do everything. anything.
Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived But I swear, I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did
[...]
My babe would never fret none About what my hands and my body done If the Lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me When I was kissin' on my baby And she put her love down, soft and sweet In the low lamplight, I was free Heaven and hell were words to me
because jason does come home to you. every night. whatever happens, no matter the state he is in.
and he is much more careful about that too, now. about the state he ends up in after going out as red hood.
but he also knows that no matter the state you do found him in, you'll welcome him with open arms. willing to take care of him. keen, even, to make him feel at peace, at home. no matter how much blood tainted his hands, you would wipe it off every time.
you would calmly sit him down in the bathroom, and start tending to his wounds. standing between his legs, you would found yourself -more often than not- leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, your hands pushing his hair back gently, your fingers tangling in his white strand.
and under your soft hands, your gentle touches, jason would feel like heaven was in your arms, because it is.
and it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of him, as long as he has you. this heaven. his heaven. and in counterpart, for this peace you're providing him of, this love he feels radiating from you, he will always come home to you, and do anything for you to not regret it. to not regret betting on him, placing your trust into him like that.
jason is willing to defy death in your name.
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