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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want to Retire - Idia Shroud x reader

You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it. Now, as the villainess you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.

Series Masterlist

You’ve lived a life. A noble life, full of honor, glory, and caffeine-fueled late-night writing sessions.

You're an aspiring author.

An aspiring author who, unfortunately, just created the most stupid novel plot of all time.

At least, that’s how it feels. You sit back, staring at your screen, utterly defeated as your latest creation flickers mockingly before you.

You’ve named it: "The Battle for Genius Prince Idia’s Hand" (working title, don’t judge). And wow, it’s a mess.

Here’s the breakdown of your disaster:

You’ve got your heroine—a girl so sweet she’s practically made of sugar, like one of those cookies that look good but crumble the second you bite into them. Naturally, she’s fighting for the affection of your male lead, Prince Idia, who is a socially awkward, genius mechanic prince (because you thought it’d be fun to make him hot and bad with people).

Then there’s the villainess. Ah, the villainess. She’s smart, sharp-tongued, and has enough sass to level a small city. Her entire personality? Sabotage. And she’s also after Idia—because apparently, that’s the only thing women in this story care about. (You regret this immensely.)

But oh no! Plot twist! Idia gets kidnapped by some unnamed evil force (you’ll figure it out later). The heroine? Well, instead of rescuing him, she falls for some Bland Prince. You don’t even know why. You think his name might be Greg. Or Gerald. Honestly, he’s that unremarkable.

Meanwhile, the villainess doesn’t even care anymore about Idia. Instead, she’s full-on dedicated to ruining the heroine’s new, bland romance because… well, that’s her whole schtick.

It’s… awful.

You sit back, hands in your hair, groaning aloud. “What is this? Who would even read this?”

You glance at your notes. They’re a chaotic mess of random scribbles: “Idia = genius, but hates people,” “Villainess needs more fire,” and “Heroine? Too boring. Spice her up. Maybe dragons?”

Yeah. This isn’t working.

You slump in your chair, utterly defeated. The characters are good, great even! But the plot? Oh, the plot is a dumpster fire. No, worse. It’s a flaming dumpster floating down a river of bad decisions. You can’t believe you spent hours writing this.

That’s it. You’re scrapping the entire thing. You’ll keep the characters, sure. But the story? Gone. Deleted. No one needs to suffer through this mess.

Determined, you crack your knuckles and reach for the keyboard, ready to hit the big red “DELETE” button on your disasterpiece.

“Say goodbye to this trash heap,” you mutter, “and hello to some actual good writing.”

But, alas, the universe has other plans.

Just as your finger hovers over the delete key, the worst possible thing happens. Your elbow, as if possessed by the forces of chaos itself, nudges the precariously balanced coffee cup on your desk. The liquid inside, which you had so carefully placed right next to your laptop like a ticking time bomb, tips. In slow motion, you watch the dark, caffeinated doom spill over the edge and land directly onto your keyboard.

“No, no, no, no, NO!” you shout, lunging forward, but it’s too late.

The coffee floods your keys like a tidal wave of misfortune. Your laptop makes a sickening little noise, a soft bzzt, and the screen flickers ominously. You sit there, frozen in horror, watching your computer sizzle as if it’s been cursed by the gods of terrible life choices.

And then—just when you think it couldn’t get worse—it gets worse.

There’s a small, but very real, spark. You flinch back, because nothing good ever comes from sparks. The screen flickers violently, the keys start to buzz, and then—before you can even process what’s happening—you feel it.

ZAP!

Electricity courses through your body. Your vision flashes white, your muscles seize, and in one horrifyingly comedic moment, you realize you’re being electrocuted by your own laptop.

You’d scream if you could, but all you manage is a high-pitched whimper before everything goes black.

Dead. You’re dead. Killed by your own coffee and a poorly thought-out novel. Fantastic.

You blink your eyes open, your head pounding like you’ve been hit with a ton of bricks—or, more likely, an electrical charge. Slowly, your vision clears, and you find yourself… staring at an unfamiliar, ornately decorated ceiling.

Where the hell are you?

You sit up with a groan, and that’s when it hits you: the bed. It’s massive, plush, and absurdly luxurious—definitely not your usual ratty mattress. Panic sets in, and you scramble out of bed, only to catch your reflection in a nearby mirror.

It’s not your reflection.

Oh.

Oh, Shit.

Staring back at you is her. The villainess. The sharp-tongued, drama-fueled antagonist of your novel. The one with a penchant for ruining lives and stealing the spotlight. The one you made up.

You gasp, gripping the sides of the mirror. “No. NO.” You stare at the dark hair cascading over your shoulders, the perfectly arched brows, and the terrifyingly intense smirk that seems to have a life of its own. “Why am I her? Why this of all characters?”

You step back from the mirror and slap your cheeks, half hoping that’ll wake you up from this fever dream. It doesn’t. You’re still stuck in the body of the villainess, and with each passing second, reality—or whatever twisted version of it this is—sinks in deeper.

“Of course,” you mutter, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Of course this is my life now. I write the dumbest novel in existence, and this is what I get.” You pace in front of the mirror, ranting to no one in particular. “Who even thinks it’s a good idea to make me the villainess? Me?! I didn’t sign up for this!”

After a few minutes of thoroughly berating yourself—and by extension, the cosmic forces that brought you here—you finally stop, resting your hands on your hips.

“Okay. Fine. FINE. I’ll play your stupid game, universe.” You throw one last glare at your reflection. “But I’m not tormenting the heroine. Nope. She can have her stupid one-sided rivalry for all I care. I want nothing to do with this mess.”

The decision made, you shake your head and take a deep breath. “Alright, what’s next?” You glance around the villainess’s extravagant room, trying to figure out your next move. And then, a lightbulb goes off in your head.

Prince Idia.

In your novel, he’s socially awkward, reclusive, and definitely doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this disaster. He’s just collateral damage in your sorry excuse for a plot, and honestly? You feel kinda bad about it.

You snap your fingers. “That’s it. I’ll find Prince Idia. Save him or something. Maybe I can even get a reward for rescuing a royal!” You’re feeling pretty good about this plan—much better than sticking around and causing drama with the heroine, at least.

With a dramatic flourish (you are still the villainess, after all), you head for the door, ready to track down Idia and redeem yourself in whatever twisted way you can manage. Who knows, maybe this whole situation won’t be as bad as you thought.

Or… maybe it’ll be even worse. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

After what feels like hours of arguing with your stubborn, uptight butler—who is absolutely convinced that your decision to head straight for the abandoned palace at the edge of town is the worst idea you’ve ever had—you finally break free.

“If anyone was kidnapped, that’s where they’d be!” you shout over your shoulder as you march toward your carriage, ignoring his protests about "safety" and "reckless behavior."

Butler or not, you’re on a mission. And after a bumpy ride to the palace, here you are, standing at the entrance, waiting for the traps or menacing guards to pounce.

...Nothing.

It’s strangely anticlimactic, actually. You push open the door, expecting maybe a cackle or some ominous fog. But no, just dust and an eerie silence. You frown, stepping cautiously inside.

“What kind of royal abduction is this? Budget cuts?”

Just as you’re about to chalk this whole thing up to a monumental waste of time, you hear it—a low curse, followed by the distinct sound of tinkering. You freeze, listening closer.

Definitely someone messing with something.

Your hand instinctively reaches for your trusty gun (bless past-you for deciding guns belonged in this novel), and with practiced ease, you pull it out and slam open the nearest door.

"Hands up!" you yell, pointing the barrel directly at—

A very, very scared Prince Idia, crouching beside what looks like a half-assembled mechanical gadget. His wide, shocked eyes meet yours, and he lets out a startled yelp, nearly knocking over the tools scattered around him.

"Wh-What the hell?!" you blurt, lowering the gun slightly. This was not the daring rescue scene you imagined.

Idia flinches, awkwardly raising his hands. “I—uh, I don’t know who you are, but how did you even find me?!” he stammers, looking at you like you just kicked his favorite gaming console.

"How did I—? Are you kidding me?" You gesture dramatically with the gun, still in shock. "I’m one of the people you were supposed to choose from! Remember? The whole ‘Battle for the Hand of Prince Idia’ thing?”

He blinks at you, deadpan. “Oh… Oh, no,” he mutters, more to himself than you. “Absolutely not. I’m not going back. I staged this whole thing for a reason.” He crosses his arms, stubborn. “I’ll just stay here with my gadgets. You can go back to… whatever you do.”

You stare at him, flabbergasted. “What do you mean you staged this?” You glance around the dusty, decrepit palace. “This is your brilliant escape plan? Hiding out in the palace equivalent of a haunted IKEA?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s quiet, it’s out of the way, and no one bothers me here. I didn’t get kidnapped, okay? I just—didn’t want to deal with all the royal court nonsense.” He shrugs, as if staging a fake kidnapping is the most logical thing in the world.

“You do realize that Ortho is still at the palace, right? Your little brother? Alone? Without you?” You raise an eyebrow, watching the slow dawning horror creep across Idia’s face.

“Yeah, so?” He huffs. “He’s the Crown Prince now. I’m sure he’s fine—"

“Bro,” you interrupt, “have you seen high society? Ortho’s gonna get eaten alive. Not to mention the other princes aren’t just gonna let him waltz around with a crown on his head without making his life miserable.”

Idia’s eyes go wide, his brain clearly working overtime as the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh… Oh no. I didn’t think of that.”

You nod sagely. “Yeah. Big oops.”

He stares at the ground, looking like he’s physically shrinking under the weight of his own bad decisions. And then—something unthinkable happens.

“Help me,” he says, his voice desperate. He looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Please. I’ll—I’ll make you anything you want, build you gadgets, whatever you need! Just help me navigate high society while I… hide in the shadows or whatever.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you… Are you asking me to pose as your fake fiancée?”

Idia flushes crimson, his hands flailing. “N-No! Well, maybe? Yes. I mean, yeah, but it’s not like I want to—" He groans, burying his face in his hands. “Just… ugh. Yes. Please.”

You cross your arms, tapping your chin. “Hmm. Fake engagement, huh? Alright, but only if you give me a beach house when this farce is over and Ortho officially takes the crown.”

Idia looks up at you, blinking in surprise. “A beach house? That’s your condition?”

You smirk. “Hey, I know what I want. So, do we have a deal?”

He hesitates for a moment, but then sighs, defeated. “Fine. You get the beach house. Just… make sure no one talks to me. Or atleast, you have to handle almost all the talking.”

With a satisfied nod, you extend your hand. “Deal.”

Idia, still red-faced and awkward, shakes your hand. You can’t help but wonder what sort of chaos you’ve just agreed to—but at least you’re getting a beach house out of it.

Sneaking Idia back to your manor wasn’t the most glamorous affair. He insisted on wearing a cloak, “for dramatic effect,” even though the streets were practically empty.

"You know, for a guy who's supposed to be a genius, you're real bad at blending in," you deadpan as he stumbles over his own cloak.

"It’s supposed to make me inconspicuous," Idia mutters, pulling the hood down further. "People see a cloak, they assume you’re some weirdo and leave you alone. It’s basic stealth mechanics."

“Uh-huh. And tripping on it helps too?”

“Shut up.”

Once inside the manor, you sit him down to discuss the details of how you’re going to spin this whole ‘rescue’ thing. Idia, now a little more at ease, starts fiddling with some gadget he pulled from one of his cloak’s hidden pockets. You can't tell if he's actually paying attention, but you figure you’d better get started.

"Okay," you say, leaning in like you’re about to hatch the greatest scheme of your life. "We need a story. Something grand. Heroic. Full of intrigue, mystery—"

“Or we could just say I, uh, got lost?” Idia offers halfheartedly. “And you happened to find me by accident. That sounds more plausible.”

You shoot him a look. "Idia, this is high society. No one ‘just gets lost for 3 months.’ We need something more exciting. Like, I fought off a band of rogue kidnappers—"

“Did you now?”

“And there was this epic battle—"

“With what? Your sense of direction?”

You glare. “Focus. We need an alibi."

Idia sighs. “Fine, whatever. Make it sound cool, but not too cool. If it’s too impressive, people will start thinking I owe you something.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I already have an idea of what you owe me,” you say, smirking.

His eyes narrow in suspicion, but you move on.

"Alright, so I 'bravely' tracked you down to the abandoned palace—"

"Because obviously that's where I'd be hiding," Idia interrupts sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"—and I singlehandedly defeated a gang of ruthless kidnappers, saving you from a life of captivity. You, overwhelmed by my gallantry, are forever in my debt—"

Idia snorts. "Forever in your debt? Yeah, right. You're more likely to find me dead than in your debt."

“Just go with it. It’s a good story.”

Eventually, you both settle on a suitably ridiculous tale where you, after days of tireless investigation, heroically rescued him from an evil plot to overthrow the royal family. It's unnecessarily elaborate, full of conveniently absent witnesses and a dramatic escape from a non-existent dungeon. The whole thing’s so ridiculous, you almost feel bad for making anyone listen to it.

“Right,” you say, standing up. “Now we just need to sell this at court.”

When you arrive at the palace, Idia hangs back while you step forward, playing your part as the "heroic rescuer." Ortho’s the first one to spot you, and when his eyes land on Idia, they widen with shock and excitement.

“Brother!” Ortho shouts, practically flying over to tackle Idia in a hug. “I knew you’d come back!”

Idia, not really one for public displays of affection, awkwardly pats Ortho’s head. “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he grumbles, though you can see the tiny smile tugging at his lips. “I was, uh, working on some top-secret stuff. Y’know, important genius-level projects.”

Ortho beams. “That sounds just like you!”

You have to hold back a snicker. Yeah, real “top-secret.” Like avoiding social interaction at all costs.

Soon, you’re ushered into the royal court. The king—who clearly knows something is up—doesn't look remotely surprised by the "revelation" that Idia was never actually kidnapped. But, because royal politics are weird, he plays along.

“So, Prince Idia,” the king says, raising an eyebrow, “I suppose you’ll want the Crown Prince title back now that you’ve returned?”

Idia freezes, panic flashing in his eyes. "Uh, absolutely not. Hard pass. Nope. Ortho’s got it handled, right? He can keep the whole… crown… thing.”

Ortho nods eagerly from behind him. “I’ve got it covered!”

The king sighs but nods. “Very well. And what about you?” He turns to you. “Surely, a brave soul such as yourself deserves a reward.”

Here it comes. You’ve rehearsed this with Idia, but now that you’re on the spot, you can’t help the dramatic flair in your voice as you clasp your hands together and say, “All I ask… is for Prince Idia’s hand.”

The king looks thoroughly amused, while Idia, beside you, is turning a very interesting shade of red.

“What?” Idia hisses under his breath. “That was not the line.”

You grin, leaning closer. “Yeah, but you have to admit, it’s funnier this way.”

To his credit, Idia doesn’t collapse on the spot, though he does look like he’s reconsidering his life choices.

Meanwhile, from across the room, you catch the third prince—your so-called "male lead"—glaring daggers at you. He looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel, while the heroine next to him is scandalized beyond belief.

“B-but Idia’s hand was supposed to be won!” she protests, clearly flustered.

You tilt your head innocently. “Oh? Not satisfied with the third Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes at her.

Her face goes red, and the Bland Prince—whoever he is—looks equally scandalized.

Next to you, Idia quietly high-fives you behind his back.

“Nice one,” he whispers.

As you both walk away from the court, Idia glances over at you, his usual sarcasm softened by relief. “You know, I really thought I’d end up hating this whole scheme, but you’re not bad at playing the part.”

You chuckle, nudging him. “Told you it’d be fun. And now I get a beach house, so it’s a win-win.”

Idia sighs but can’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make me go to any more parties, okay?”

“Deal.”

You’re sitting across from Idia in the study, supposedly "spending time together" to prove to the world how deeply smitten you both are. In reality, though, you’re plotting out your beach house retirement plan, while Idia is hunched over his latest gadget, muttering like a mad scientist.

"Okay, so if I tweak this—boom, self-repairing AI drone. Easy. The idiots at court would never get it," he whispers to himself, eyes glued to the wires and gears he's fiddling with.

You’re busy doodling floor plans of your dream beach house, adding an extra pool for fun. “Yeah, totally, sweetheart,” you mumble, pretending to listen. This fake relationship thing is going swimmingly.

That’s when the door flies open, and in waltzes the male lead—of course he doesn't knock. The guy practically drips entitlement as he saunters in, admiring himself in the reflection of a spoon he’s for some reason carrying.

Without missing a beat, you and Idia scramble to look like actual lovers. You slide closer to him, casually tossing an arm over his shoulders, and he—already flustered—just stiffens like he’s been caught in a trap.

“I see you two are enjoying each other’s company,” the male lead says, not even looking up from his spoon reflection. “I came to invite you to the tea party. You know, with all the nobles. The whole ‘Idia’s too traumatized to socialize’ excuse isn’t gonna fly anymore. It’s been three months.”

Idia’s eyes widen, and you can practically hear his soul leave his body. You give him a reassuring nudge.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper. “I’ll do all the talking. You just have to sit there, sip tea, maybe nibble on a pastry, and nod at Ortho. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Idia doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway. “Sure, sure, as long as I don’t have to, like, interact.”

The two of you arrive at the tea party, and the moment you step into the garden, you realize you're absolutely screwed. It’s not a tea party at all—it’s some weird medieval Olympics with archery targets set up, and a bunch of nobles are taking turns shooting arrows while their wives cheer them on.

“What… is this?” you whisper, horrified. “Why are there archery targets at a tea party? Is this... a misogyny power trip?”

Idia looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. He’s already backing away slowly, trying to make his great escape, but you grab him by the back of his cloak before he can bolt.

He shoots you a look like you’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal. “This... is not a tea party. You said tea and pastries. Where are the pastries?!”

“I didn’t know!” you hiss back. “I thought we’d just sip tea and gossip about whose cousin married whose horse!”

Before either of you can make another move, the heroine spots you and immediately latches onto your arm, dragging you to the tea table. At the same time, the male lead grabs Idia and hauls him over to the archery side.

"Wait—no—uh—" Idia stammers, but he’s already been thrown into the testosterone-fueled chaos of nobles trying to outdo each other.

Thinking fast, you impulsively declare, “I’ll be the one doing the archery! For my fiancé, of course. You know, because those thugs that kidnapped him? They had bows too!”

Idia, catching on, immediately puts on his best terrified expression. “Y-Yeah! Bows! I’m… I’m still traumatized! Please don’t make me relive it.”

The crowd collectively gasps, and you inwardly pat yourself on the back. Nailed it.

Somehow, despite knowing absolutely nothing about archery, you end up winning the whole thing. Turns out, none of the nobles have actually seen a bow before. You didn’t even hit the bullseye—you just got the arrow near the target, which was apparently enough to impress them.

The prize? A complex-looking mechanical device, something straight out of Idia’s dream workshop. You look at it, completely clueless, before handing it over to him.

“Uh, here. I have no idea what to do with this.”

Idia stares at the device, his eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re… giving it to me?” He looks touched but also suspicious. “You’re not gonna ask for some crazy favor in return?”

You shake your head. “Nah. It’s all yours. Consider it a thank-you for not leaving me to deal with this disaster alone.”

He blinks, clearly not used to receiving gifts without strings attached. “Well… uh, thanks. And… good job on the archery. You, uh, really sold the ‘traumatized fiancé’ bit.”

Before you can respond, the rest of the nobles start talking about "true love," and you can practically feel the heroine’s eyes boring holes into you. She’s fuming, glaring at the male lead—who, by the way, didn’t win—and looks like she’s about five seconds away from tearing out her hair.

You shoot her a smug grin, thoroughly enjoying her frustration. Idia, who’s been watching the whole thing with mild amusement, lightly bumps you with his elbow.

“Thanks for… you know, saving me from whatever that was. And for giving me this… thing,” he says, holding up the device.

“No problem,” you reply, smirking. “I think we’re pulling off this whole ‘smitten lovers’ thing pretty well.”

Idia snorts, trying to suppress a smile. “Yeah, well, if you keep dragging me to ‘tea parties’ like this, we’re gonna need to come up with a better plan. Preferably one where I don’t have to socialize with archery-obsessed nobles.”

“Deal,” you laugh. "Next time, I'll find a real tea party."

"Please don't."

You’re lounging on a comfy chair, lazily chatting with Ortho, who’s happily explaining some new contraption he and Idia worked on. You’re half-listening, more focused on sipping tea and enjoying the rare moment of peace in this chaotic castle.

That is, until Idia suddenly appears in front of you, looking unusually determined. He stands there, awkwardly shifting his weight, before thrusting his hand out in front of you.

Without thinking, you blink up at him and, in your confusion, place your chin on his outstretched palm. You give him a questioning look, waiting for further instruction.

Idia’s face immediately flushes a deep red. “W-What are you doing?! That’s not—I didn’t—gah!”

Ortho’s trying not to laugh, but it’s clear he’s barely holding it together.

“What?” you ask innocently. “You held out your hand, so I thought…”

Idia runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered, before spluttering, “I—no, I was asking for your gun!”

“Oh. Right.” Without hesitation, you hand him the trusty weapon you always keep on hand, because at this point, you’ve learned to never question what Idia needs. It’s always better that way.

“Thanks,” he mutters, grabbing it like he’s on a mission and rushing off to whatever secret lair he retreats to.

You glance at Ortho, who’s giggling to himself. “Do you think I should be worried about that?”

“Nah,” Ortho says with a cheerful shrug. “He’s probably just making modifications. He’ll be fine!”

The next day, your luck runs out. Just when you were hoping for another peaceful afternoon, the heroine arrives for a surprise visit, dragging along her little posse of noble followers. You’re seated in a stiff parlor chair, forced to endure the barrage of small talk and fake smiles, feeling as if the universe is punishing you for all the nonsense you wrote in that novel.

One of the heroine’s cronies leans in with a sickeningly sweet voice, “Oh my, Lady Heroine, I just love your new gown. You look positively radiant. Unlike some people who seem to… dress for comfort, I suppose.”

You shoot her a withering glare, but it’s hard to focus when the heroine herself joins in, adding with a falsely sympathetic tone, “It must be so difficult for you, pretending to fit into high society. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be, keeping up appearances.”

You’re just about to snap back when, suddenly, the door bursts open. In comes Idia, holding your gun, looking both determined and completely out of his element. For a brief, terrifying moment, you wonder what kind of chaos he’s about to unleash.

Before you can ask, he walks straight over to you and hands it to you, his expression serious. “Here. I finished the modifications.”

Your jaw drops as Idia starts rattling off a list of improvements. “So, I increased the firepower by 30%, added a cooling mechanism so it doesn’t overheat, and now it’s got an auto-targeting system that can scan multiple threats at once. Oh, and I swapped the trigger to be more responsive, so you won’t have any lag—”

You can’t help but notice how animated he looks. His usual deadpan expression is replaced by a lively spark in his eyes as he talks about all the intricate details. He’s completely in his element, and you find yourself enchanted by the way he speaks. It’s rare to see him so passionate, so alive.

The moment is shattered when he finally notices the others in the room. His face drains of color, and he gives a forced smile that screams I don't want to be here. Without another word, he turns on his heel and flees the room. But you notice something strange—he had been holding your hand the entire time. His grip, tight and warm, leaves a lingering sensation even after he’s gone.

You’re left holding your newly modified gun, your face heating up as you process what just happened. The heroine's entourage are all staring at you with wide eyes, as if they’ve just witnessed the most romantic moment of the century. Even the butler, who’s usually the epitome of professionalism, is grinning like he’s just uncovered the secret to eternal happiness. The maids nearby are giggling behind their hands, clearly entertained.

You glance down at the gun, then back to where Idia disappeared. Great, you think to yourself. How am I supposed to survive this?

As if reading your mind, the heroine gives you a smug smile. “It seems your fiancé is quite… attached. How charming.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood to your cheeks. “Yeah, he’s a real romantic,” you mutter sarcastically.

But even as you try to brush it off, your thoughts keep returning to that sparkle in Idia’s eyes, the way he had held your hand, and the way his enthusiasm had made your heart skip a beat. Maybe this royal con is going to be more complicated than you expected… but also, maybe not as bad as you feared.

Dragging Idia to get fitted for the imperial ball is like trying to drag a cat into a bathtub. He’s actively resisting, feet planted as you haul him toward the tailor with all the enthusiasm of a man being led to the gallows.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he groans, leaning back so far you think he might just throw himself on the floor in protest. “An angel loses its wings every time you make me do this. Do you want heaven to be wingless? Is that what you want? To singlehandedly destroy heaven?”

“I’m aiming to open a black market for wings, yes,” you say, deadpan, yanking him forward. “The profits will be incredible.”

“You’re a menace,” he mutters, shuffling along behind you, still resisting like a particularly stubborn mule. “Just put me in a broom closet with a bag of chips and leave me there. I don’t need to go to this ball. No one wants to see me.”

“I do,” you quip. “I’m dragging you into society, one unwilling step at a time.”

By the time you actually manage to get him dressed, you feel like you’ve aged five years. But when you take a step back to admire the result, it’s worth it. Idia looks stunning, even if he’s fidgeting like his clothes are secretly made of fire ants. He’s basically the human version of a rare collectible: usually hidden away, but absolutely jaw-dropping when you finally get to see him.

“Alright, Prince Drama,” you say, exhaling, “I’m going to get dressed. Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.”

When you return, you immediately notice something’s up. Ortho’s whispering something to Idia, and whatever it is, it’s causing a nuclear-level blush to spread across his face. He’s stiff as a board, and when he turns around and sees you in your ball attire, he goes straight from “mildly panicked” to “catastrophic system error.”

Without warning, he chucks a flower at you. Just full-on throws it like it’s a projectile weapon.

“Here,” he croaks out, his voice cracking halfway through.

You blink, catching the flower mid-air with one hand. “Uh, thanks? Were you... trying to plant this on me?”

Idia’s face somehow manages to get even redder. “No—I mean yes—I mean—” He looks around for help, but Ortho just gives him an unhelpful thumbs up from the corner.

You grin, deciding to help the poor guy out. “Why don’t you pin it in my hair instead?”

His hands shake as he fumbles with the pin, and you’re pretty sure he’s using every ounce of self-control not to stab you in the scalp. You bite your lip, trying not to laugh, but the whole situation is just too funny. Especially when Ortho gives you a conspiratorial wink from behind Idia’s back like he’s this close to winning a bet.

The ball itself is, as expected, a social hellscape. You and Idia survive by sticking together like conjoined twins, fending off the waves of nosy nobles and fake smiles. You can practically see the stress radiating off of Idia, his expression one of pure misery.

And then, the king makes his grand address, signaling the start of the first dance. You feel Idia stiffen beside you.

“Oh no,” he mutters, “Oh no. This is where it all goes downhill. I’ll trip, I’ll break my leg, and then they’ll throw me in the royal dungeon for embarrassing the family.”

“Relax,” you say, squeezing his hand. “It’s just one dance. I’ll lead, you follow. Easy.”

“I hate this,” he mumbles as you drag him onto the floor. “I hate everything about this. I should have just set myself on fire and gotten out of it that way.”

But despite his protests, you manage to lead him through the first few steps of the waltz. To your surprise, he’s not completely hopeless. He stumbles a little at first, but with you guiding him, he starts to get the hang of it.

“You’re doing great,” you say encouragingly.

“Stop lying,” he grumbles. “I’m one misstep away from taking us both out like a bowling ball hitting pins.”

The music continues, and with every turn and spin, you notice the room around you fading into the background. For a moment, it’s just you and Idia, navigating the intricate steps of the dance together. He’s still anxious, but he’s keeping up, and more importantly, you can tell he’s starting to trust you. He’s letting you take the lead, and for someone like Idia, that’s huge.

From Idia’s perspective, this entire ball is a waking nightmare. He’s completely out of his element, surrounded by people he’d normally go to great lengths to avoid. But then there’s you. You’re handling everything with this... ease, this grace that he can’t even begin to comprehend. You’re not just dancing with him, you’re actively navigating the minefield of court politics like it’s no big deal.

And you don’t need to do this. This isn’t your problem—it’s Ortho’s succession, not yours. But you’re here, by his side, going all out to make sure Ortho’s future is secure. Idia’s heart twists in his chest. He doesn’t get it. You’re way too cool for this. Too cool for him. You wink at him mid-spin, and he feels like his brain’s short-circuiting.

"Oh no. I like them. Like, really like them. And soon, they’ll be gone. This whole engagement is just for show. After Ortho’s investiture, we’ll go back to our separate lives, right?"

He swallows hard, trying not to freak out, but it’s too late. He’s in way too deep.

After the dance, you lead him off the floor and start mingling with the other nobles, making alliances and doing your whole “political mastermind” thing. Idia stands awkwardly to the side, trying to blend into the wallpaper, but his eyes keep following you. You don’t have to do all this for Ortho, but you are. And that’s... that’s really cool. He admires you, he can’t help it.

And then—oh no. The lower nobles. They spot him and beeline toward him like sharks smelling blood. Before he can make a break for it, they swarm around him, throwing party invitations at him like confetti.

“Prince Idia, you simply must attend our garden soirée next week,” one of them gushes, eyes sparkling.

“And our evening gala!” another pipes up. “You’ll be the guest of honor, of course!”

Idia’s face goes pale, and he shoots you a look that screams, HELP ME.

You swoop in like a knight in shining armor. “Ah, yes, well, unfortunately, Idia can’t attend. He’s... uh... allergic to sunlight.”

The nobles stare at you, blinking in confusion. Idia stares at you too, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“Allergic to... sunlight?” one noble repeats, frowning.

You facepalm. Smooth. “I mean... it’s a joke! Ha! Obviously! What I meant to say is... uh...” You scramble for an excuse. “I need a nap.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I—uh—can’t sleep without him,” you blurt out. “It’s, uh, a couple thing.”

The nobles blink at you again, thoroughly bewildered.

You grab Idia’s arm, muttering, “We’re leaving,” and make a quick exit, practically dragging him behind you.

As soon as you’re out of earshot, you let out a groan. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that. ‘Allergic to sunlight’? Really?”

Idia is doubled over laughing, completely losing it. “You what?!” he howls. “You need a nap? And you can’t sleep without me?!”

“Shut up!” you say, cheeks burning. “I was trying to save you!”

“You saved me? More like doomed me!” He wheezes between laughs, clutching his stomach. “Oh man, you are terrible at this. You make me look good, and that’s saying something.”

You glare at him, but his laughter is so infectious that you can’t stay mad. And honestly? He looks free. Unbridled, even. It’s the first time you’ve seen him laugh so openly, so without reservation, that it almost makes you forget how embarrassing the situation was.

Almost.

It's finally time for Ortho's investiture, and to say you feel unprepared would be an understatement. Not for any political reason—you've long since mastered the art of navigating court intrigue. No, the issue is far more personal, far more heart-wrenching. After today, once Ortho is declared Crown Prince, Idia will no longer have any excuse to stay in the spotlight. He'll retreat, back into the shadows, probably even fake his own kidnapping to get out of any future public events. And you?

You'll finally get that peaceful beach house you’ve been dreaming about.

But the thought doesn’t feel like a reward. It feels bitter. You don’t want that beach house—not if it means losing Idia. The man who’s wormed his way into your heart with his sarcasm, awkwardness, and hidden kindness.

But you know he’s not someone you can tie down. Idia doesn’t do well with permanence. And as much as your heart begged to hold on to him, you also know he’d likely slip through your fingers if you tried.

So you do what any self-respecting person would in this situation: put on a brave face, slip into your formal attire, and prepare to smile your way through heartbreak.

When you walk out to greet Idia, he’s already dressed in his formal robes, looking every bit the reluctant royal. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you, but he says nothing, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

You muster up the strength to smile and reach for his hand. “Ready?”

He nods, but neither of you can meet the other’s eyes.

From Idia’s perspective, today should feel like a victory. He’s been planning for Ortho’s investiture for months, and now that the day is finally here, he should be feeling nothing but relief. But no—he’s filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. It’s not about Ortho. His little brother is brilliant, and Idia knows the kingdom is in good hands.

No, what he’s not ready for is letting you go.

If someone had told him a year ago that he would care about someone—want someone—so desperately, he would’ve locked them up in a mental facility. But here he is, standing on the precipice of his worst nightmare.

You, who shine in every public setting, who effortlessly charm everyone around you, are going to move on. He knows he can’t tie you down with his reclusive lifestyle, his constant desire to escape from the world. How could he? You’re everything he’s not—bright, resplendent, beloved. He can’t ask you to give up your life for him.

But when you come out and take his hand, his heart skips a beat. Neither of you are able to look each other in the eye, but the gesture says more than any words could.

The investiture itself goes off without a hitch. Ortho’s speech is flawless, full of the hope and wisdom of a ruler who will no doubt lead the kingdom into a golden age. You’re so proud of him—of the boy who’s become like a little brother to you.

But even as you smile and clap with the rest of the court, you feel a heaviness in your chest that has nothing to do with the political spectacle unfolding before you.

A few tears slip down your cheeks, and you don’t even know if they’re from the overwhelming pride you feel for Ortho or the quiet heartbreak you’ve been trying to suppress all day.

Before you can wipe them away, Idia silently hands you his handkerchief. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, and that just makes the ache in your heart a little worse.

You take it with a quiet, “Thanks,” dabbing at your eyes, and you both stand there in tense silence, watching as the formalities continue around you.

Once the investiture concludes and the guests filter out, you and Idia retreat to a balcony to catch your breath. The sky is darkening, and the cool evening breeze does little to soothe the heaviness you feel in the pit of your stomach.

Idia breaks the silence first. "I've, uh... already arranged the beach house. It’s in your name now."

You blink, looking over at him. His voice cracks slightly, and when you finally turn to face him fully, you realize that he looks like the very picture of heartbreak. He’s not meeting your eyes, staring out into the distance as if it’ll keep him from falling apart.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Idia... do you want me to leave?”

He freezes, still not looking at you. "I... I want you to be happy. I mean, that's the whole point, right? The beach house, everything—you’ve been wanting that for ages."

“I didn’t ask if you wanted me to be happy,” you say quietly. “I asked if you want me to stay or go.”

The silence between you stretches, heavy and suffocating. You hold your breath, waiting for him to answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“I... I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you’re not here anymore.”

That’s all the confirmation you need. Before he can say anything else, you step forward, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. For a split second, he stiffens, shocked, but then he melts into it, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

It’s everything you needed and more—sweet, desperate, and filled with all the words neither of you have been able to say. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily.

“Come with me,” you whisper. “To the beach house. We can... we can figure everything out from there.”

Idia lets out a watery laugh, one that’s half-disbelief, half-relief. “You really want a shut-in like me hanging around your dream house? You’re gonna get sick of me in a week.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you. So... what do you say?”

He hesitates for a moment, then gives a small nod, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Yeah... okay. I’ll come with you.”

And just like that, the weight that’s been pressing down on your chest all day lifts. It’s not the end—it’s a new beginning. One where you and Idia don’t have to part ways, where you can move forward together.

As you both stand there on the balcony, holding each other close, the world feels a little less daunting, and the future a little brighter.

The grand hall is slowly emptying out, nobles drifting away after offering their congratulations to Ortho. You and Idia maneuver through the lingering crowd, dodging overly-friendly dukes and avoiding eye contact with barons hoping to extend the festivities.

Idia clings to your arm like a cat being dragged to the vet, mumbling, “Please tell me we’re not about to be emotionally ambushed again.”

You smirk. “Relax. It’s just Ortho.”

“Yeah, that’s what you always say before things get sentimental and I have to deal with ‘feelings.’”

You spot Ortho standing near the dais, still wearing the ceremonial robes from his investiture. Despite the long night, he looks bright-eyed, waving cheerfully at some departing courtiers. When he catches sight of you two, his face breaks into the biggest grin, and he hurries over like an eager puppy.

“There you are!” Ortho beams, practically glowing with excitement. “I was worried you left without saying goodbye.”

“Us? Leave without saying goodbye?” you tease. “What kind of villains do you think we are?”

“Exactly the kind who would sneak away in the middle of a banquet,” Idia mutters under his breath. “And you know what? That plan still sounds great.”

Ortho rolls his eyes fondly. “You’re impossible, brother.”

“Only when I’m awake.”

“Anyway,” you cut in, shooting Idia a playful glare before turning back to Ortho, “we wanted to talk to you before we go.”

Ortho’s smile falters, just a bit. “You’re leaving already?”

You nod, squeezing Idia’s arm. “Yeah. We’re heading to the beach house.”

Ortho tilts his head, curious but not upset. “You’re moving there?”

“For a while, yeah,” you explain gently. “Idia and I need a break from all the court politics. But don’t worry. We’ll visit you. Often.”

Idia shifts beside you, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh... It’s not like I’m leaving forever or anything. Just... you know, temporarily escaping society.”

Ortho laughs, but there’s a softness in his gaze now. “I get it. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all this behind for a bit.”

You take a step closer, voice lowering. “And hey... I know you’ve got a lot on your plate now. But we’re still family. If you need anything—anything—we’ll be here for you.”

Ortho’s grin returns, full force. “I know. I’m really glad you two have each other. Honestly, I was worried for a long time that Idia might never find someone willing to put up with him.”

“Gee, thanks,” Idia deadpans. “Glad my personal development arc has been so inspiring for you.”

“But seriously,” Ortho says, his expression softening again. “Thank you. You’ve done more for us than you had to. I know you could have just... gone back to your world or left things as they were. But you stayed. And you helped him.”

Oh no. Not this again. That suspicious prickle starts in your eyes, and you blink rapidly to fend off the tears. Not now. Not in public.

“You’re not... making me cry,” you insist, even as your voice wobbles. “This is just... allergy season.”

“Oh no, it’s happening,” Idia groans dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t cry. If you cry, Ortho’s gonna cry, and if Ortho cries, the nobles will definitely blame me.”

“Shut up, you big baby,” you sniffle, swatting his arm before pulling Ortho into a hug. “Come here, you. Group hug, now.”

Ortho barely has time to react before you’ve wrapped him up in your arms. He laughs, squeezing you back. You reach out blindly and grab Idia’s sleeve, yanking him into the fray.

“Wait—wait, what—!” Idia stumbles forward, sandwiched awkwardly between you and Ortho. “This is... I don’t...”

“Shhh,” you whisper, patting his back. “Feel the love.”

“This is emotional ambush!” Idia protests, voice muffled against your shoulder. “I want it on record that I was forced into this.”

“Noted,” Ortho says with a laugh, hugging both of you tighter. “But you’re not getting out of it.”

For a moment, the three of you just stand there, huddled together in a ridiculous knot of limbs, nobles glancing your way but tactfully avoiding comment.

Idia mutters into your ear, “This... this is basically treason against introverts.”

You grin. “Consider it penance for being emotionally stunted.”

“You’re both the worst,” he grumbles, but his arms stay wrapped around you.

Eventually, you pull back, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand. “We’ll be back soon, Ortho. I promise.”

“I know.” Ortho smiles warmly, giving you one last squeeze. “And when you do, I’ll make sure you never have to attend another dull court event again.”

Idia perks up at that. “Oh. Now that’s what I call incentive.”

With one last shared laugh, the three of you break apart. Ortho steps back, standing tall and proud in his new role, though his smile still holds all the warmth of a little brother seeing his family off.

“Take care of him,” Ortho says quietly, glancing meaningfully at you.

“I plan to,” you reply, meeting his gaze with a small, reassuring smile.

“And you,” Ortho adds, looking at Idia. “Don’t screw this up.”

Idia gapes, indignant. “I—why does everyone assume I’m the one who’s going to screw it up?!”

You and Ortho exchange amused glances before both of you answer in perfect unison:

“Because you will.”

Idia groans. “Yeah, okay. Fair.”

With that, you bid Ortho one final goodbye, tugging Idia along before anyone else can rope you into small talk. As you leave the grand hall and step out into the cool night air, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter.

Idia sighs in relief. “Well, that’s over. Time to hibernate for the next decade.”

You chuckle, lacing your fingers through his. “Hibernation in the beach house?”

“Hell yeah.”

And with that, the two of you set off into the night, leaving the court behind—for now.

Oh, what happened to the heroine and the male lead, you ask? Let’s rewind a few months before Ortho’s investiture—back when they were still blissfully unaware of the elaborate downfall that awaited them.

You knew that the heroine and the male lead would try to make a spectacle of themselves during Ortho’s rise to power. The way they pranced around, flaunting their superficial charm and good looks like they owned the place—it was insufferable. And, of course, they were always scheming in the background, hoping to secure power and glory for themselves. You couldn’t stand it.

So, you set up the perfect trap.

It began at a lavish gala, one of those unnecessarily extravagant events where nobles gathered to network, gossip, and throw subtle insults at each other. You arrived fashionably late, as any proper duchess would, with Idia reluctantly in tow, mumbling under his breath about how every social event felt like “one of those long quests with zero rewards.”

“The rewards are emotional, Idia,” you whisper, linking arms with him.

“Yeah, emotional damage,” he mutters.

You suppress a smile, but your mind is elsewhere. Tonight is the night. You had planted the seeds weeks ago, a few well-placed rumors, some whispered insinuations, and a letter you’d accidentally left behind in a well-trafficked corridor. It was all coming together like a beautifully chaotic symphony, and now, the climax.

You spot the heroine first, her radiant smile masking the venom beneath. She’s making a grand entrance, arm-in-arm with the male lead, who, as always, looks like he’s stepped straight out of a romance novel. His hair is perfect, his jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. But you know better. They’re both so predictable.

“They’ve arrived,” you murmur to Idia.

He gives you a blank stare. “Yeah, cool, I’m just here to not die of social exhaustion. Whatever you’re planning... don’t tell me. I don’t wanna be involved.”

“Suit yourself,” you reply with a grin.

You watch them mingle, waiting for the right moment. And there it is—the heroine, attempting to cozy up to the king, laughing a little too loudly at one of his mediocre jokes. You slip through the crowd, making your way to where a certain nosy noblewoman is holding court. A noblewoman known for her love of gossip and her even greater love of ruining people’s lives with it.

Perfect.

You lean in, feigning concern. “Oh, My Lady... I probably shouldn’t say this, but I heard the strangest thing about the heroine. You won’t believe it.”

Her eyes gleam with curiosity. “Do tell, my dear.”

“Well,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “there’s talk that the heroine and the male lead are involved in some... unsavory business dealings. Something about embezzling funds from the royal coffers for their own gain? I don’t know how true it is, of course... but it would explain some things, wouldn’t it?”

You leave the rest unsaid, letting her imagination do the rest. The best part? It’s all technically true. You had orchestrated it so well, the heroine and the male lead had no idea that their “private” meetings and “innocent” financial maneuvers were anything but secret.

She gasps, her fan snapping shut. “I knew there was something off about them! Oh, the gall! I must inform the king immediately!”

And just like that, the gossip spreads like wildfire. Within minutes, the entire room is buzzing with scandalous whispers. The heroine and the male lead notice the shift, the way people start looking at them, and for the first time, they’re on the back foot. They try to smile, but their unease is palpable.

You sit back, watching the chaos unfold, sipping your wine as nobles begin to distance themselves from the pair, shooting them suspicious glances.

Idia sidles up next to you, looking around at the suddenly tense atmosphere. “What... what did you do?”

“Who, me?” You bat your eyelashes innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He gives you a side-eye. “You’re terrifying.”

“You knew that when you asked me to be your fake fiancée.”

The next day, official inquiries are launched into the heroine and the male lead’s finances, and though they try to clear their names, it’s no use. The damage is done. Their reputations are ruined beyond repair, and they’re forced to withdraw from court life entirely. A fitting end for their ambitions.

Which brings you to the present...

It’s a peaceful morning in your beach house, and you’re sitting on the veranda, enjoying your coffee while the sun rises over the horizon. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is your only company, and for once, there’s no looming political intrigue or royal drama to worry about.

That is, until Idia stumbles out of the bedroom, his hair a messy blue cloud, his eyes half-closed with sleep. He groans as he sees you, one hand on the wall to steady himself. “Why are you up so early? It’s like... the middle of the night.”

“It’s 10 AM,” you reply with a laugh.

“Exactly,” he grumbles, shuffling over to you. Without another word, he flops down beside you, his head immediately finding its way to your neck. He nuzzles into you, muttering something unintelligible, and you chuckle softly, patting him on the cheek.

“You’re such a big baby in the morning,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Despite being married for the past two years, Idia’s face turns tomato-red every time you do something affectionate. He blushes furiously now, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide it.

“Y-You’re unfair,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “Saying stuff like that... it’s embarrassing.”

You grin. “But you’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute. I’m a grown man. And you’re a villain for making me get up before noon.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “Maybe, but I’m your villain. So deal with it.”

Idia groans dramatically but makes no effort to move away, too comfortable where he is. You continue sipping your coffee, enjoying the moment of peace, when he finally speaks again, a little softer this time.

“Y’know... you really did a number on the heroine and the male lead. They’re still laying low, huh?”

“Maybe the rumor I spread was truly a masterpiece,” you say with a smirk, remembering how perfectly everything had gone according to plan.

Idia snorts. “A masterpiece of destruction, maybe.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his forehead. He sighs contentedly, the two of you basking in the quiet comfort of your shared life. It’s moments like this that remind you just how far you’ve come together, from court intrigue and scandal to peaceful mornings at your beach house.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

For the next part,

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x you #idia shroud #idia #idia x you #trash novel chronicles

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gallusrostromegalus · 11 months ago

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hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD

Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.

Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.

I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.

Some more thoughts:

If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.

If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.

You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.

You can also freeze lick mats

If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.

If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.

Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.

Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.

Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.

Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.

A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.

If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.

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yeonzzzn · 10 months ago

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hi hi! I have an idea :3 yandere heeseung baby trapping y/n even though that was her plan the whole time bc she’s also a yandere for him:3

oh my god I love this idea saurrrrr much😫😮‍💨 anon your brain is *chef kiss* 🩷🩷🩷

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baby trapping: lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader word count: 1.5k

Heeseung always loved the thought of baby trapping you. He’s got a bad enough breeding kink as it is, but just the thought of getting you pregnant and making you stuck with him? His yandere ass could cum on the spot just thinking about it. His whole body getting tingly and his heart pumping faster and faster.

Day by day Heeseung slowly inched closer and closer to actually baby trapping you. Mostly when he’s buried deep inside your cunt, cock pressing against your cervix as his cum fills you completely.

It’s not even just making you become stuck with him, he wouldn’t mind having a baby with you. To share the responsibility of caring for the life you both created together, to raise that precious life that was a mixture of the two of you. It would be the happiest he’s ever been.

Those thoughts alone pushed Heeseung into action. Gathering up all the condoms and Plan Bs around the apartment and tossing them out one by one slowly without your knowledge. Not wanting to make it too obvious what his plans were. Heeseung already knew you wouldn’t bat too much of an eye at the condoms disappearing, you two barely used them anyway. And for the Plan Bs? Was just what it was used for, as a backup plan in case you accidentally skipped one of your birth control pills or got sick and had to stop taking them because of your medication. The Plan Bs would be a bit harder to toss out, but again with your birth control, you wouldn’t take much notice.

It was birth control that was the real problem. How would Heeseung wing you off it? It’s something you take every day at seven am on the dot. It’s not like he can dig into your bathroom bag you keep under the sink and just throw them down the sink or toilet or the trash.

Except, maybe he could.

Heeseung walks into the bathroom, not to snoop around for your birth control, but to take a hot shower after his long day of work. Wanting to let the steamy water rush down his body in relaxation before sitting in front of his PC and playing video games the rest of the night with his friends.

It wasn’t until after his shower that he noticed it.

He stood in front of the sink, taking the towel that was wrapped around his lower half and bringing it to his head to shake all the water out of his hair, as he lowered the towel back down when he noticed the small pink plastic case, just sitting in the corner of the sink.

Heeseung reached for it, picked it up, and slowly looked inside it, his gut being right that this was indeed the case you kept your birth control in.

How could he have gotten so lucky? You left it on the sink by mistake from rushing to work this morning. It was too perfect. It was like the universe was telling Heeseung to baby trap you. To make you stuck with him forever.

His plan was now fully in motion as he dumped out the contents of the pink case, making sure every last pill was gone and then tossing the case the next chance he got without you knowing.

The next morning Heeseung woke to hearing you scrambling around the bathroom cabinet under the sink. He had to keep his smile hidden as he asked what on earth you possibly could be tearing apart the bathroom for.

“I can’t find my birth control pills, Seungie have you seen them? I left them right here on top of the sink.”

With the poker face of a god, he shrugs, “No, I haven’t seen them, baby, I’m sorry.”

Except I watched them get washed away down the sink so the next time I fill your cunt with my cum you’ll be pregnant with my child.

Heeseung knew he had to be smart now, knowing you’ll be more careful during sex, wanting to be on top so the moment Heeseung is about to unload his seed you could jump off.

But he’s been thinking about this plan for months, he’s ran the numbers over and over again. Calculated each scenario to a perfect point. His plan was already working in his favor, no reason for it to not work now.

So Heeseung gaslit you into thinking there were more Plan Bs pills somewhere in the apartment, begging on his knees to let him fuck you as he ran his hands up and down your thighs slowly, feeling the goosebumps on your skin and watching how you breath hitched at his touch. He was already winning.

Heeseung knew how to work your body, how to touch you in all the right places to get you into your back, hands pinned above your head as he fucked into rough and fast, hitting your G-Spot with such ease as his name was rolling off your tongue over and over.

All he had to do was keep your arms above your head and pressed into the sheets, keep whispering the lying promise that a Plan B is waiting for you as he also praised how good you’re taking his cock, how much of his sweet good girl you were.

He’d made you cum twice now, and his climax was approaching fast. This was it, the moment he’s only dreamed of was finally about to happen. The only hard part after this would be gaslighting you into staying at the apartment with him the rest of the weekend to make sure you don’t slip out and buy any Plan B once you figure out he lied to you.

“Going to breed the fucking hell out of this pussy,” he moans into your ear, licking at the shell of your ear and feeling you shudder underneath him, his cock twitching, knowing he had a good few thrusts left before he’s spilling into you, “Going to fill you so full of my cum, going to breed you, make me a daddy baby.”

Heeseung lifted himself up, getting one last look at your face and your fucked out expression. He furrowed his brows, feeling himself about to burst, snapping his hips back against your skin, then pushing back out. Was fixing to slide in a final time when he noticed a change.

His eyes widened in surprise as your facial expression changed, your lips curled into a smirk as you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed him back deeply inside you, whispering, “Get me pregnant,” with such seduction in your voice. Your grip on his waist was strong enough that he couldn’t wiggle out of it even if he wanted to, and just accepted his fate as his warm cum filled you to the brim, bucking his hips further into you as much as he could with the help of your legs squeezing around him.

Little did he know, you too had a plan of your own.

You’ve secretly been as much of a yandere as your boyfriend, wanting to baby trap him into being stuck with you for the rest of your life. Plotting out ways to get him to spill his cum deep inside you without any sort of protection or backup plan. But Heeseung honestly made it easier for you.

You went to throw away the condoms and Plan Bs, but already saw they were missing. You had suspicions, but didn’t know if maybe Heeseung misplaced them after they were used last. But you also knew there was no way that was possible.

To test if you were correct, you purposely stopped taking your birth control a couple of days beforehand and purposely left the little pink case on top of the sink counter before leaving for work, not being surprised one bit when you returned home to see the case was missing.

Your plan was just as much in motion as Heeseung’s. And there was no point in telling him that you two had the same plan, no no, that would take away the fun. So you played dumb. Acting as if you didn’t know he tossed out every protection product in the apartment. Let him “gaslight” you on his false promises. In the end, you were the one who gaslit him into thinking he was gaslighting and manipulating you in bed when the tables were oh-so flipped.

It wasn’t until after Heeseung came down from his high but still fucked into you slowly making sure you milked him dry of every last drop he had, that he realized your plan all along.

Right when he thought he played the game well, he was the one who got played.

Oh, but it turned him on so badly knowing you wanted to baby trap him too.

Heeseung just smirks down at you, “Ya? You wanna baby trap me? Going to cum in this cunt every single day until you’re pregnant.”

#yeonzzzn asks #heeseunggie #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung x reader #reader x heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #yeonzzzn writing

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deadghosy · 11 months ago

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Hello ! I wanted to ask if you can write a Hazbin Hotel x male!reader that is like a raccon please ?

Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!

(Unconnected, but I really love your writing. You have a real talent for this)

Sure lol! I also wanted to make them have the animal spirit of a raccoon so here you go! 🦆💗

HAZBIN HOTEL X RACCOON! READER

prompt: a ex-thief wants redemption to see his family

You stole shit..like lots of it to the point even your ex-teammates calls you a raccoon for your ability to steal like crazy. So when one of your teammates killed you because of they were jealous you got so much jewelry…. You fell into hell grumbling piss at seeing your ex teammate shoot you before you died.

You dusted off your outfit to fuckin' see you are a raccoon. (You can imagine reader to be a cubby raccoon or your body type 😘) but you gotta admit it fitted you as you looked to see an ad for a hotel that talks about redemption. You didn’t wanna stay in hell any longer as you smell the flames in your snout. So you go over to the hotel.

You stay at the hotel for months, getting the trust of the hotel staff as you live there. Charlie introduces herself in her dreams to you, making you feel at least as you should help her grow in her dreams of the hotel that she’s making out of this.

So you nod, accepting your be part of the exercises she does.

You either was given a red outfit just like Charlie and vaggie or just a black fit to match your mischievous personality.

I can see reader literally just trying to wash their hand from the sink as Charlie pick them up and helps you wash your hands thinking you can’t change heights.

Lucifer picked you up because you’re the size of a raccoon so you kind of found it funny until you grow up in size as human size. Never in his life has Lucifer dropped a person so quick as you chuckled.

“EW A RODENT” “EW A SHORT PERSON”

There was so much silence that the silence was loud as Lucifer gave you a “that’s not nice D:” face as you shrugged.

Raccoon! Reader and penguin! Reader would be cousins 😭

Like literally these two animal readers would be those cousins trying to get a sleepover by their moms.

Angel would probably set you up to steal from Valentino…I mean shit Italians stick together☝🏾

Niffty likes to groom you if you are in your raccoon size. Don’t run, you can’t out run Niffty and her cleaning tools ‼️

I can imagine you and sir Pentious being slight mutuals as you go through peoples trash bins and just collect metal for Pentious making Pentious give you something in return.

A cute headcannon is that you sometimes stick your tongue out when drinking something other than gulping it down.

Husk had gave you some water because you were dehydrated. And this man raised an eyebrow seeing you drink it like a cautious animal. Okay so maybe husk did pet you on your head as you were too busy drinking the water.

You are a slick bastard, you would literally pick pocket people without them even knowing it. Hell, you died with a talent because of this. But it’s sometimes hard to break bad habits.

I headcannon you bit a resident that tried to pickpocket off of you. You definitely gave them rabies with your sharp teeth as they started to spazz and pass out. Leaving you just standing there like. “Did I do that…😨”

I can see raccoon! Reader just being thrown by Angel when he wanted to catch some sinner who tried to take his drugs (pilot reference) and you got on the sinners head and fuck up their face🦆

It was definitely giving “PIKACHU, I CHOOSE YOU!” 😭

Okay so I gotta admit…I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have dug in the trash bins only to get scolded by Charlie as you had a banana peel on your head

I can see raccoon reader also having the personality of rigby, but more of a mature side to it a little. If you know what character I’m talking about hit me up 😘😍

As much as you seem playful and dumb at time, you’re really smart when you wanna be smart. You literally outsmarted Alastor at chess once which made alastor’s eyes widen at you.

I deadass headcannon raccoon! Reader to have like some kinda of accent. Probably Italian, but make it heavy and attractive. 😭🦆

But like if raccoon reader is Italian imagine the secret talks you and Angel do away from the others 😭😭 just two Italian boys planning world domination

Alastor doesn’t have any options on you other than you just stealing his cane makes him pissed off.

You stole his cane for a talent show down stairs that Charlie made. You were doing comedy until this mf grabbed the scuff of your neck and forced you to give it back.😭

STOP CAUSE YOU PROBABLY GOT LOCKED IN A TRASH BIN ONCE AND IT TOOK THE WHOLE CREW TO FIND YOU IN 2 DAYS😭😭

“Ewww…welp found them Charlie!” Alastor said picking you up over his shoulder with a wide grin as he slides down the dump stash.

You are in charge of the lost and found section of the hotel as you just go in room and find shit. I mean you would love to keep them to yourself but Charlie and vaggie knew you would try to steal. So that’s why they made you in charge of lost and found.

You and Angel once went on a hot girl shopping spree..well actually Angel brought you along since you two bond very well. You two legit bought shades together while Angel dust went shopping with you behind him holding his bags.

I headcannon raccoon! Reader to have a locket of his mom in his pocket at all times because before going to bed they kiss the locket and wish their mom a good night.

Charlie learnt you liked being pet from your head to your back as it helps you sleep better. She squeaks at your rare cuteness as she hears you let out a few cute snores.

You stole from husk making him grumble looking for his wallet only to see you come back whistling holding a bunch of groceries.

“Let me guess, you stole my fuckin' wallet?” “Whattt me stole whooo?” You said with a smirk putting down the groceries for husk as he grumbles snatching his wallet from you.

Husk and you have a weird friendship dynamic. It’s like you two hate but like each other. So it’s basically frenemies

When the angel fell down and came to fight, what did you do? Bitch you stole their heaven bucks and dead angel’s weapons. If you can’t beat em, wait for them to die😍

Adam literally seen you stealing money from tel he angels and was going to kill you when he felt his pockets…HIS WALLET WAS GONE?! HOW TF DID YOU TAKE HIS WALLET?!

“THAT LITTLE THIEVING SHIT TOOK MY WALLET?!” “ BUT SIR! THAT IMPOSSIBLE?” “NO SHIT!” Adam retorts at lute as Adam grumbles seeing your figure run away

After Adam had died, you ran his pockets…😭 devious ass shit-

The hotel crew just gave you a shocked looked after you stole half of his possessions.

You and Angel dust literally just be chilling and mess with husk a lot 😭 so now husk got two Italians annoying him lmao

Sir Pentious doesn’t like you because of how you sometimes sneak into his room or lab and steal some of his stuff just so you can have a little stash of something to remember the good old days when you were alive.

Sooner or later, you had given Pentious his stuff back remembering your mom might be in heaven. You miss her cooking.

I imagine raccoon! Reader to be a mama’s boy🤨☝🏾

You’re so use to playing dead as a raccoon, as you literally played dead in front of husk and angel making them scared you actually died….yeah you told them it was a prank and they got mad to the point they locked you out of the hotel.

“GUYS! LET ME IN DAMNIT! IT WAS JUST A JOKE! FELLAS?!”

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userautumn · 2 months ago

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Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.

You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.

I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?

Anyway.

Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.

Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.

Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.

Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:

"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"

"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay."

Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.

#jack answers mail #WE COULD HAVE HAD IT AAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLL #tv: 911 #otp: eye of the storm

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solitude4chiron · 1 year ago

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Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie headcanons #headcanon #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #spiderman atsv #hobart brown #hobie brown x reader

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frankenkyle19 · 3 months ago

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‘Fur-reaky’

Peter Maximoff x Werewolf-type reader

Description: Reader is a sort of beast like mutant. Peter takes a liking to reader and they fuck. That’s literally it. Not proofread or read over at all I’m literally in a coffee shop rn about to drive over to work. Enjoy my feral lovelies.

Word count: 2.9k

Of course Peter was more than a little curious when he heard about the new addition potentially coming to join the team. Or for Charles to train or whatever the hell. He didn’t know any of that. He’d heard about you in passing. Scott and Jean had whispered about you a few times. Nothing bad, just curious questions between the two of them. They hadn’t realized Peter was listening. He was always somewhere listening, though which was a bit creepy. Was he a creep? No, surely not…

Anyways back to you.. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of mutant you were but from what he heard you were kinda like Hank just… increasingly less blue. Peter was curious about the fur and even more curious about what you’d look like but when he saw Charles escorting you down the hall towards your room, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. You weren’t covered in fur! You just looked.. Normal? What the hell! He sped off to the kitchen to grab a snack when he realized that like Hank, you were probably able to go in and out of your form and maybe he was just an idiot. Well.. He knew he was an idiot.. But if you know you’re an idiot does that actually make you an idiot or self actualized and smart?

Peter shrugged as he grabbed a pudding cup and zoomed off back to his room. He wasn’t ready to introduce himself just yet because he didn’t want to seem like he was coming off as a desperate creep. He’d meet you later. Maybe ‘accidentally’ run into you in the hall. Yup. That could definitely work.

After he finished his cup of pudding he still found himself bored. Entertainment was difficult to come by in the mansion unless he wanted to annoy the others and by now they were beyond fed up with him. He thought back to the new mutant that Charles had by now probably shown around the place and right now you were probably putting away your things and getting settled.

He knew he really shouldn’t go and bother the newbie but Peter had never been known for his self restraint now had he? So, he tossed the now sadly empty pudding cup towards his little trash can, missed, and zoomed out of his room and down the hall towards yours.

He miscalculated the time it would take to stop and he whizzed past your door before coming back a moment later. He ran a hand through his silver hair to tame it back down after running. The frizz he got was insane and he had even started to consider carrying a mini hairbrush with him to brush through it after running.

He hoped he didn’t look awful.. He was wearing his silver jacket that he never took off and one of his many band tees. Along with a pair of black jeans. His usual casual outfits that he wore pretty much anywhere.

Finally after gaining the courage he brought his fist up to knock on your door. Once. Twice. Three times-

He almost doubted himself for a moment and was about to just speed away but you opened the door, standing in front of him with a curious tilt to your head as you took him in.

“Hello.. Can I help you?” Your voice came out and Peter… Well Peter was fucked because you were cute and he liked the way your voice sounded too. Oh shit.

“My name’s Peter but everyone calls me Quicksilver, just thought I’d do my duty and come greet the newbie.” He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant when really he was mentally flipping out, stomach doing little cartwheels. No one had really caught his eye yet and he’d been suuuper lonely lately. He just wanted some company. Some good company if you caught his drift.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter,” you said before you gave him your name and fucking again it was pretty and Peter felt like he was going to blow up dramatically like some cartoon character.

“Pretty name, babes. So we haven’t heard a lot about you, Charles is prettyyyy confidential. What’s your power?”

A blush of embarrassment rose over your features and Peter wasn’t sure what that meant. Oh! Oh no… were you embarrassed? That just wouldn’t do…

“Because me, well I’ve got super speed and this funky lookin’ hair.” He said witn a comically large smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“I’ve… it’s-“ Your words stumbled over each other as you tried to find a way to explain it without it sounding weird. Really, you’d always thought it was a stupid power but Peter looked so genuinely curious that you decided you might as well show him.

You beckoned Peter into your room before closing the door behind him and Peter raised a curious brow at your actions. I mean like he was totally cool with all that he had absolutely no qualms about getting down and d-

Oh! Peter had it wrong like he so often did.

In the moment it took to close the door and step back from Peter you’d grown several inches taller and were now… practically covered in fur.

Peter’s eyes widened in awe as he took in your form. Holy hell that was cool! You really were like a regular, non-blue version of Hank! No offense to him but Peter found you much more attractive too. You also had what appeared to be super sharp nails or claws and he thought those just looked super badass.. Everything about you really.

“Holy shit! Look at you! That’s sick as hell!” Peter exclaimed, brown eyes still scanning your frame. He was immediately enamored.

——————————————

That was how yours and Peter’s relationship started. Well, not really a relationship but also more than just a friendship. You found yourself snuggled up to Peter’s side on team movie nights and there were always lingering touches shared between the two of you. Most of the other X-men assumed the two of you actually were full on dating and every time you or Peter denied it they just scoffed and looked at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were, but Peter and you didn’t really find it super important to try and label what you had. It was good, that’s all you knew.

It was another one of those nights, the X-men decided to watch some stupid movie together after a long week. All of you sitting around the tv with popcorn and various candies. It was actually quite sweet. Peter sat next to you on one of the large comfy chairs, arms wrapped around your waist to hold you close.

Eventually at some point during the movie one of Peter’s hands that rested on your hip had started to move closer to your… Well.. Y’know..

What was he doing?! Peter himself didn’t even really know. The two of you hadn’t done anything like that yet… It was a sort of boundary that neither of you dared to cross. A line in the sand if you will.

Until now. Peter’s heart was beating a million miles an hour in his chest as he tried to gauge your reaction. You didn’t seem too bothered by it but he didn’t want to ever do something you didn’t like. So instead of silently continuing, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“Wanna get out of here? This movies pretty boring and if you’re up for it I think I can give us some much better entertainment.”

You were at a loss for words so a little nod was all the confirmation you gave the speedster before he was standing up, pulling you with him. Some of the other X-men looked up at the both of you, confused as to what you were doing but for the most part they all kept their eyes on the movie that was playing.

“We’re gonna go head off to bed for the night, adios!” Peter gave a little wave before he grabbed onto you and sped the two of you off to his room. His room was… much more cluttered than yours. The walls were covered in band posters- Nirvana, Rush, Pink Floyd, as many as you could think. His bed was unmade and the drawers to his dresser were all slightly open, clothes spilling out of them.

“Sorry babe, didn’t get a chance to clean,” He said a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with a little chuckle.

“Peter I could care less what your room looks like- but what were you doing out there?! In front of everyone? What were you thinking? I mean someone could have seen and then-“ Yours words were cut off as Peter pressed his lips against yours, cupping your cheek in his warm palm, letting his thumb run across your skin gently.

Once you got your bearings you kissed back, hands bunching up the fabric of the band tee he was wearing, feeling the fibers beneath your fingertips. You’d wanted to steal a few of his t-shirts for a while now but didn’t know how he’d take to that.

Right at the moment he was absolutely lost in the kiss, gentle lips coaxing yours further and further into a glorious unity that was the two of you.. Peter was really beating himself up for not doing this sooner.. Especially with the way you were reacting to it.

You gave him a gentle nudge, pulling away to take a breath as he stared at you with his wide brown eyes, looking a lot like a deer in headlights. Like he didn’t know what to do next.

“So…” You started, eyeing him curiously. “You said you had better entertainment than the movie? Ready to prove that?”

And if Peter’s eyes already looked like they were going to bug out of his head before you said that, they really really did now. He couldn’t believe his ears! This was better than any Twinkie or snack cake in the world..

He wanted to come off cool and collected but really he just gave a gentle shrug of his shoulders and bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, not making eye contact with you. “Well I- Yeahhhhh babe, definitely got… I mean- or- ahh fuck!” He facepalmed, shaking his head as his cheeks began to heat.

“Peter- calm down. I’m just teasing you. You look cute when you’re flustered… But, I was serious. Y’know.. If you wanted to.” And now your cheeks were red too and the both of you were dancing around actually talking about it because neither of you were sure what to say.

Peter knew that one of you had to say or do something though so he decided to actually take charge and he pulled you into another kiss, his mouth practically devouring yours as he grabbed at your hips with a bit of force behind his actions this time. He didn’t seem as unsure of himself. Now that he was sure you weren’t going to turn him down.

“Peter-“ you breathed out, chest rising and falling heavily and Peter had to admit- he was definitely staring at your breasts.. Like for sure and he wasn’t even really that ashamed of it.. You had great titties! He couldn’t just not.

Peter gave you a lazy smile and looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something stupid again so you intervened.

“Take your clothes off.”

It was forward but it caused the reaction you wanted out of him. He looked a bit taken aback, mouth agape for several long seconds before he managed to respond with words.

“I- my clothes?”

“Yes, Peter. Your clothes.” You said once more, and to help encourage him a little more you took off your own shirt, giving him a beautiful view of your breasts in the bra you wore. It wasn’t anything special but to Peter? God, he’d never seen anything better in his whole life.

He didn’t need much more coaxing after that because he was tossing off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head with a speed that made it hard to actually see what he was doing. He was already stripping down to his boxers and it had only been like.. Five seconds. It took you a bit longer because you unfortunately were not graced with the speed Peter had. Your mutation was something you thought much weirder.. Something you kept hidden as much as you could.

He looked up at you, silver hair falling into his eyes which he quickly pushed back. He let out a low whistle, unable to stop the grin that appeared on his face when he saw you. God.. He was stupidly in love and it was going to be the end of him.

The two of you fell into bed quickly after that, hands everyone, touching, grabbing, coaxing moans out of the other with satisfied twin smirks on your lips.

Eventually in the whirlwind of it all, Peter found a condom and slid it on, positioning himself at your entrance before looking up at you to make sure he was good to go.

You gave a little nod and he slowly slid into you, silver eyebrows furrowing at how tight and warm you were wrapped around him.

He placed his hands gently at your shoulders, giving you a few tender kisses before he pulled out and started to move at a pace that was excruciatingly slow for him but just right for you to get used to his girth.

Your head was thrown back into the pillows, moans spilling freely from your throat as your hands reached for Peter, gripping onto his biceps tightly as you clenched around him.

Peter’s eyes had been closed practically the whole time, trying not to bust a nut in the first five seconds and embarrass himself, but when he did open his eyes he saw that you looked.. Quite a bit different than when he’d closed them.

“Holy shit..” Peter whispered under his breath, glancing down at you. At first you were confused before you glanced down at your body, now covered in fur. Quite a bit less than… Say beast, but enough that it obviously made a difference. Your eyes had also changed to a deep, almost glowing yellow.

You made a move to shove at Peter’s chest, trying to get up and cover yourself but he stopped you. “Hey- hey woah look at me. You’re beautiful, okay? I’m not good with all this lovey-dovey stuff but I mean it. You’re gorgeous like this, baby. Doesn’t make me want you any less.”

Your brows furrowed heavily at him, trying to see if he was really telling the truth or if he was just trying to make you feel better. But you remembered how bad of a liar Peter Maximoff actually was and came to the conclusion that he had to be telling the truth.

You also came to the realization that he was still balls deep inside of you, twitching rather eagerly, desperate to move again.

“Can- Can I?” He asked rather shyly, giving a little jut of his hips even further against yours, hands resting at your sides, feeling over the soft fur there. All he could think about was fucking the shit out of you and then cuddling up to you afterwards. You felt so warm.

A little nod of your head had Peter pulling back before plunging himself back into you with a shaky gasp, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. You smelled like perfume and warmth and god dammit if Peter wasn’t already addicted.

Your back arched into him, trying to get more. He felt so damn good inside of you it was actually criminal. That the two of you could have been doing this the entire time instead of dancing around each other in fear of rejection.

“Peter-“

“I know, feels totally outrageously good, doesn’t it? Just like that, fuuuuuuck.” Peter tossed his head back, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his silver hair falling from his face. His hands clenched gently at your sides, not being too forceful but also not exactly gentle. He couldn’t help himself.

The two of you continued that slow, nearly torturous pace until you were arching against each other, breath hot, the room filling with heat and the smell of sex.

Your lips were connected as the two of you barreled towards release, trying to prolong it as long as you could.

“I’m so close baby girl- so close fuck I’m gonna cum- you almost there sweetheart?”

The pet names had your cheeks heating as you gave a little nod before pulling Peter down into another harsh kiss, nipping at his bottom lip.

The cry that left him was nothing short of heavenly, his hips stuttering before he stilled inside of you, panting against your lips. His hips may have stopped but the feeling was quickly replaced by a low vibration on your clit that you soon realized was coming from his fingers.

He’d turned into a whining mess after his orgasm but he was so eager to see that you came as well.

“Please- cum for me baby please, want it so bad please-“ he begged, practically slurring his words as the vibrations intensified.

You didn’t need much more convincing after that, a strangled cry leaving your lips as finally that band snapped and you came, whole body shaking underneath him.

He helped you through your orgasm before you were gently pushing his hand away, nearly wincing with overstimulation.

“Alright Peter that’s- that’s enough… Jesus that was good.”

Peter, who had caught his breath by now pulled out of you and grinned playfully. “See baby, we could have been doing that the whole time!”

#evan peters #evan peters icons #peter maximoff #xmen quicksilver #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfiction #quicksilver #xmen days of future past #xmen apocalypse #quicksilver smut #evan peters smut

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hyunniesgirl · 1 year ago

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Another Love | Part 2

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 5,302

Warnings: a bit of angst

>> Masterlist <<

A/N: hello!! I'm really happy about the feedback I got on the first part, I got sick and stressed because of work that's why it took me a bit long to post this part, I'll try and be faster for the next ones. Spoiler: things will get more interesting on the next part.

Han couldn't sleep, couldn't eat or even function properly since the day you left, it was so strange not having you around. He wakes up, gets to work, the boys make him eat something, they practice, then they eat something again because they know he's going home to starve himself in his pit of misery, then he gets home, takes a shower and goes to sleep.

He's always anxious, too afraid of losing you, every time he looks at his phone he's scared that a message from you will come saying you don't want to be near him anymore, saying you are not coming back.

He really wishes he could like you back, why wouldn't he? You're pretty, smart and funny. But he just never thought about you in that way, he's not sure why. You were always just his best friend, the one person that encouraged him to do the crazy things he wanted, the one person that got his back when things didn't work out, the first one he told when he passed the audition to be a trainee.

When he saw you at the party he was happy to see you smiling with other people, he was usually the one making you laugh but it made him relieved to see you were okay even if it was not with him.

It hurt so much when you ran away from him, he was already feeling bad but that made everything worse. So he drank more and more until he wasn't feeling anything anymore.

He saw the guy you were hanging out with, he was with his friends and you were nowhere to be found and even though he knew you didn't want to talk to him he went after you.

He found you outside, seated on the floor probably getting some fresh air or waiting for Hannah.

When you saw him he wished he didn't go after you at all. Everything happened so fast that he almost didn't manage to hold you before you walked past him running away again.

Han just couldn't let you leave like that, he was that desperate. He wanted to make you stay no matter what and he hurt you once more.

Was he even a good friend at this point? How many times can you possibly hurt someone and still be called a friend? He felt like trash waking up in the morning and remembering everything.

Chan insisted on coming home with him, he was feeling too guilty and too tired to protest, so he let his friend crash on the sofa.

Since Chan was there, Jisung should have expected a full breakfast when he got to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon and toast were waiting for him, but he didn't feel like eating.

"I feel awful, do you think I should go there and apologize to her?" Han asks and Chan shakes his head.

"She needs time, that's all you can give her now"

Han sighs, his anxiety going through the ceiling. He's lost, not sure if it's possible for things to go back to the way it was.

He could tell how worried you got when you saw him at the party, he knows too well the face you make when you want to scold him for not taking care of himself. So he spent the next week trying to get back on his feet, he doesn't want you feeling bad, he wants you to think the least about him so you can get over him soon enough.

So much happened during this time you were not with him, they finished their album and were going to Japan in two weeks. He wanted to show you their music, their new concept, the outfits, you always loved to see the clothes they would wear. You probably already know all of this, since you're living with Seungmin but he wanted to be the one showing you so he could see you smile and feel your support.

>><<

The group had gone to Japan, that included Seungmin, so he asked Hannah to stay with you in his apartment while he was away. It's nice spending so much time with her, there is this boy in her communication class she is absolutely sure will match perfectly with you, even though you already told her you don't want to deceive anyone, the thing with Heeseung made you feel bad enough. You know she's insisting on it because she cares about you, but you don't want to start a new relationship already on the wrong foot.

"I'm sure he's great, but I won't be going out with other people until I feel like I'll be able to get over Jisung"

"And when is that?" She asks frustrated, "I know a lifelong crush won't go away in a month but don't you think you have to meet other people and open up?"

You sigh, you just don't want to hurt anyone during your process of healing.

"If I find someone I like, I'll go out with them, alright? But don't set me up with random people"

She huffs, nodding, that's better than nothing.

Since Han is away, you take the opportunity and go to your apartment. You need some books, you have been borrowing Hannah's in an attempt to avoid going there to pick up yours.

There's nothing different in the house, you don't know if you should feel glad or sad about that. Although your life is turned upside down, things are still the same. You are sure you just need a little more time, things will get better soon.

You know that, because it didn't hurt as much as you thought going back to your apartment, you expected it would be much worse. Maybe it's because he's not there? That could be it but you have hope that the overall pain is gone, that it's not going to be so bad when you see him again.

Of course, as Hannah said, a lifelong love won't go away in a month, nor in two or five months, you're not sure even a year is enough but you can't wait until then, he's still your best friend and you miss him like crazy.

You're going to come back home when you're sure you let go of these feelings. Yes, it's going to be hard being with him but it's harder to stay away from your best friend.

So when you feel like you're finally open to meet new people without comparing them to Jisung and not feel like you're tricking them, when you feel like you can like someone else without feeling guilty, that's when you'll know you are starting to get over Han.

You take some clothes out of your wardrobe and put them in the bag with your books. Hannah is coming to pick you up since Seungmin let you use his car while he's away.

"Are you moving, ma'am?" Hannah asks, seeing your huge bag.

"A girl needs to be prepared", you answer and she laughs.

"Do you want some coffee?", you hum in agreement while turning on the radio.

You feel like it's finally peaceful in your head.

>><<

It's been some time since you visited your family, your parents call you every week to check on you and Jisung but when the holidays come you two have to go back home.

That's how you ended up in the car with him, it's not a long trip since you're going just outside of Seoul but it's still awkward.

This is the first time you're seeing each other after the party. The whole trip it seems like Han wants to say something, but he doesn't, he keeps stealing glances at you, opening his mouth and then closing again like he just thought it better to stay in silence.

"For fucks sake, just say what you want to say", you tell him minutes before your arrival at your family’s home.

He flinches, looking at you with puppy eyes.

"I wanted to apologize, about the whole thing at the party", he clears his throat, fidgeting in his seat.

You stare at him for a few seconds. Even though it hurts, the whole situation is less painful then you thought it would be.

When you received the call from your parents telling you to come home with Han on the weekend you couldn't say no, you don't want them to know about all the drama and before you could make up some excuse about Han's schedule they told you he already had agreed to go.

You exchanged messages with him, setting up the time for him to pick you up at Seungmin's place and you dreaded every minute of every day thinking about the moment you would have to face Jisung again.

When you got into his car, you felt uncomfortable. You made some small talk and left at that, hoping he wouldn't keep trying to talk. It's been two months since you confessed, maybe your heart is already accepting the fact that you and your best friend are just that, friends.

Of course it still hurts, you're not sure how you're going to feel seeing him with a girlfriend, but you hope it'll only get easier from now on.

"It's okay", you say. "You were drunk, let's not think too much about it"

"But I hurt you, again", he sighs, looking at you with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, you did", you sigh, "but you're my best friend and you apologized, I'm not going to hold that against you"

He parks the car, but doesn't make any movement to get out. Jisung is staring at his hands, holding the wheel.

"You're too soft on me", he mumbles.

"I know", you smile sadly, "it's just how things are between us", you open your door urging him to get out. You already can imagine your mothers making a fuss about why you stayed so long inside the car instead of going inside.

Your parents come out while you're going through the gate, your mom has a bright smile on her face and is waiting to give you a hug. It's good to be in her embrace again, her warmth makes you feel like everything will be okay.

"You lost so much weight, aren't you taking care of her?" Han's mother scolds him while giving you a hug and feeling you out.

"It's my fault, school is just crazy right now", you tell her, hugging her back.

"Nonetheless, you should eat", she looks back at your mother, "let's double the side dishes we packed for them", and your mom nods, going back inside with her best friend.

You take a deep breath, receiving a sympathetic smile from Han before he goes into the house. It's going to be a long day.

The lunch is somewhat calm, other than the dozens of questions your families ask to you two. About college, about living by yourselves, about Han's trips, how you stay alone and how that's dangerous, they ask about everything like they don't talk to you every week.

"I forgot the ice cream", your father says, slapping the palm of his hand onto his forehead and you can already predict the scolding he's going to receive from your mother. So you jump on your feet, offering to go to the convenience store to buy some.

"Go with her", Han's father says and he nods.

You wish he didn't, it's suffocating being so close to your best friends while still uncertain of your circumstances, but if you say you don't want to, they are going to ask why and having to explain that is going to be worse than spending the day with Jisung.

You walk quietly, looking at the houses on the street. Everything is still the same, other than some renovations made to the old houses there's nothing new. The convenience store is a ten minute walk away from your house. It's good walking a bit after eating so much, the thing you miss the most about living with your parents is your mother's food.

"Which flavor?" Jisung asks while looking into the freezer.

"My mom likes strawberry and yours like chocolate, let's take both", he nods.

"Oh my god, y/n and Jisung?" You hear that damn voice you can't forget even after almost 10 years.

You put on your best smile and turn around slowly.

"Hi, Haneul", you say, poking Han with your elbow, he's still focused on choosing ice cream.

"Oh, hey", he nods at Haneul, closing the freezer.

She eyes you two up and down and smiles.

"Are you finally dating?" She squeals and you can tell she's just being mean.

"No", you answer before Jisung can even open his mouth, he glances at you with a frown.

"I'm sorry, y/n, it seems not every teenage crush works out", she pouts, smiling even more now that she got what she wanted.

You watch as she turns around, walking more deep into the store and you grab the ice creams from Han's hands, going to the cashier to pay for it.

Haneul hated you ever since Jisung dragged you to go on their date in middle school, it's not your fault but you always guessed she blamed you for things not working out with him.

You want to cry, not because you're sad but because you feel humiliated. It's so frustrating knowing that everyone has always known about your feelings for Han, it's even worse to think one day a lot of your school classmates are going to see his wedding pictures with you as the third wheel as always and think of how much of a loser you're.

"How did she know about that?" He asks when you get out of the store.

"I don't think I did a good job at hiding my feelings", you shrug.

Han stops on his tracks, you only realize that after giving a few steps and you look back to see him staring at you with a confused face.

"Was I the only one that didn't know?" He asks and you sigh, you're not really in the mood to have this conversation.

"Our parents probably don't know either", you say and he huffs.

"I'm not joking, y/n! Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What difference would it make if you knew?" You yell, finally losing it. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes, but you won't cry, you were finally feeling a bit better and you're not going to waste another tear on this one sided love.

"Things could have been different, I could have been more careful, I could have told you to-"

He stops mid sentence knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, but it's already too late.

"Would you have told me to move on?" You scoff, looking around to avoid the tears. "It's not that easy Jisung, this is not the same love you felt in your relationships that lasted three months", you know you're just being mean now, but you can't control it, not with all the hurt you're feeling. "I've been in love with you for years, don't you think I was afraid of that? Of you telling me that years of me pining over you were worth nothing?"

You turn around, "tell our parents that I met someone from high school and I'll be back later", you don't give him time to say anything back before you walk away.

After a few minutes, you feel the tears running down your face. At least you avoided crying in front of him.

Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't you just forget about him already? This process is taking too long and too much of your energy.

You sit in the park, wiping your tears and looking at the children playing. Everything was easier when you were at that age, you had no worries other than if it would rain the day you would go play with your friends outside or which present to give your parents on their birthday.

You look at your phone, answering your messages, your mother sent you a text telling you to not stay out too late but you don't think you'll be able to go back and stay in the same room as Han right now.

"Y/n?" You hear a strangely familiar voice, you look up and see a handsome man walking towards you. You're sure you know his face, but you just can't remember who it is.

He sees your frown and laughs.

"Jeongho? From middle school", he tells you and your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, Jeongho! How are you?" You ask and he smiles, he grew up really well. He's much taller now but he's still as handsome.

"I'm doing well, what about you?" He asks, sitting by your side, "are you visiting your family?"

"I'm great", you smile and nod, "yeah, Jisung and I came to visit"

What are the odds of you meeting Haneul and Jeongho of all people right after you confessed to Han? The universe really must be playing with you.

"I heard that you are living in Japan", you continue.

"Yeah, I came here just for the holiday", he explains, "actually, I come by pretty often to Korea", he clears his throat, looking at you. "Are you and Jisung a thing now?" He asks and you smile painfully, why must you answer this question twice in a day?

"No, still just friends", you tell and he smiles.

He nods, mumbling 'ah'.

"And… by any chance are you single?" He asks and you nod, feeling embarrassed. "Well, that's good news for me", he says, receiving a confused look from you while handing you his phone, "mind giving me your number? I'd like to keep in contact with you"

"Oh", you stare at the device for a moment, trying to process what he's saying. Is he interested in you?

"It's okay if you don't want to", he chuckles, "I'm just shooting my shot, knowing you're not with Jisung"

You laugh, releasing the air you didn't even notice you were holding.

"Yeah, sure", you type your number and give it back to him.

He stares at you with a satisfied smile before getting up.

"I have to go now, my family is waiting for me, but I'll text you", he says, flashing a smile and waving goodbye to you.

That was certainly unexpected, you would have never imagined you would meet Jeongho and he would still be interested in you. That lightens up your mood a bit, maybe this time you'll make the right choice and choose the person that likes you back.

You and Han don't share a word on your trip back, you don't want to talk to him and he seems too deep in his thoughts to say anything to you.

You finally can breathe when you get to Seungmin's, he's waiting with Hannah, beer and food, all you needed after this hell of a day.

>><<

You are in a lilac long dress, your friends are all seated in the first row. The church is full of people, some you know, some you're not so sure. You're happy, feeling your heart beat fast and butterflies on your stomach. Jisung is looking directly at you, he smiles with a proud look on his face.

However, before you can step closer to him, a loud piano sound starts playing and after a few seconds you recognize the wedding march. People stand up but they are not looking at you, neither is Han, they are all looking at the church doors where a beautiful woman is entering in a long white dress, a child walks in front of her, throwing roses in her path. The familiar round full cheeks make your stomach sink, why does that child look so much like Han? He doesn't have a younger sibling.

Then, it all sinks in, you're not the bride. Of course not, he's marrying another woman, a beautiful one at that. He's building his life and forming a family and you're just there on the sidelines. The bride steps in front of him and gives you her bouquet, smiling kindly at you.

You open your eyes abruptly, your chest is going up and down at a fast pace and your breathing is heavy, you're soaked in sweat. It was all a dream, a nightmare.

You sit on the sofa, feeling sore, all your muscles are tense. You can't believe you actually dreamt about something like that, your fear of always being there watching your best friend have his own life while still in love with him is taking over, even though you're trying to get over him.

It's two in the morning and you can't go back to sleep. It's better to take a shower and maybe go for a walk to calm your nerves.

The warm bath helps make you relax, but the memories from your dream keeps coming up on your mind again and again.

You text the only person who is probably still awake at this time and your phone buzzes seconds after your message is sent.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being contacted by my most beautiful friend?” Chan's voice sounds on the other side of the line.

You chuckle.

“I knew you would be awake”, you tell him, fidgeting with your feet while trying to explain what's happening to him without humiliating yourself.

“I had a pretty bad nightmare and wanted to take a walk, maybe eat something? I don't know”, you whisper the last part and Chan sighs, he can tell you're not feeling well.

“Sure, I wanted to take a break anyway”, he says even though he's full of work to do.

You meet at a convenience store nearby, Chan's apartment is not far from Seungmin's since they can't live far away from each other, everyone lives close. You and Jisung did too- cursed man, coming back through your mind even though you're trying to think of anything but him.

“So”, Chan says, taking you out of your thoughts, “Jisungie told me you had a bit of an argument”, he tells you carefully, resting his elbows on the table you two are seated while he holds the beer can.

You sigh, of course he would tell Chan.

“Yeah, we just met someone from middle school during our trip and it ended up like that”, you explain after swallowing a mouthful of the hot spice ramen you have in your hands.

“I know things are not easy right now, for you or for him”, he says carefully, “but you're best friends, you have to communicate and talk things through”

“I guess”, you sigh. It's not easy to talk about Jisung, more so after the dream you had. You thought the worst part was already over, that you were finally getting over him. But it turns out it's not just willingness that makes things happen.

You wake up to your phone buzzing, you look at the time it's almost noon. You look through your messages and can't help but smile, Jeongho has been messaging you everyday since the last time you saw him. It's nice having this kind of attention, he's handsome and nice, maybe it's time for you to open your heart to someone else. The nightmare you had really terrified you, just thinking about it makes your head hurt and your chest ache.

Jeongho: good morning

Jeongho: I'll be in Korea next week, maybe we could have dinner together?

You: morning

You: yeah, that would be great!

You decide to give this a chance, it's not like it is going to kill you and Jeongho is well aware about your longing feelings for Jisung.

You're dressed in a red dress, feeling a bit uncomfortable, formal attire is not your usual outfit choice, but Jeongho set the date in a really fancy restaurant that you're not used to.

Of course you went to fancy restaurants before, the boys took you out often to celebrate their awards and new comebacks but since you always insisted on paying for your meals, they usually went to fancy but still affordable places.

Jisung always offered to pay for your meals, but you never accepted. If he did, you were afraid you would look too much like a couple and your heart might make you even more delusional.

“Good evening, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks and you look around, trying to find your date.

“Hm, hi. I'm here to meet a person, Kang Jeongho?” You eye the list on the counter to try and see if his name is there.

“Yes, mr. Kang is waiting”, he tells you, “may I take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the long cover you have over you.

“Ah, yes”, you say, taking the piece and giving it to him.

The man gestures for you to follow and you walk behind him to the second floor. Jeongho is waiting at a table close to the window, he's looking at the view that you can see now it's marvelous.

“Mr. Kang”, the receptionist says and Jeongho turns around, giving you a big bright smile while standing up.

“Thank you”, he tells the man who nods at you and walks back to the first floor. “You look beautiful”, he tells you, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Thank you, I didn't even know there was a second floor in this restaurant”, you say while watching him take his seat.

“Yes, they only open it on special occasions”, he says and you frown, looking around.

“You mean, they opened it so we could eat here?”

He nods, chuckling to your terrified face.

“What are you, the president’s son?” You joke, nervously, suddenly feeling absolutely out of place and underdressed.

“Not at all, you know my father and he's far away from politics”, he jokes back, “I’m friends with the son of the owner, he owed me one so I just asked for a favor”, he shrugs.

You look dumbfounded, who is this guy? Surely not the same teenager that looked absolutely heartbroken when you rejected him in middle school.

“What did you do for him to go to such lengths to pay you back?” You ask, curious.

“I introduced him to his wife”, he smiles, “he's madly in love with her, so this was nothing to how grateful he is to me”

“Oh”, you nod. That must be nice, having someone madly in love with you.

The waiter interrupts your interrogation to ask for your orders, you have no idea what to choose, but Jeongho explains to you each dish, asking if you would like something more spicy, salty or sweet and telling which one he thought you'd like better based on your answers.

“You know, you were my first crush”, Jeongho blurts out after the waiter takes the plates back to the kitchen. You feel your whole face hot, looking at him with wide eyes, “I'm sorry, I just thought you should know”, he smiles and you notice he has some deep dimples in his cheeks.

“I thought you asked me out in middle school because you lost a bet or something”, you put your hands to your cheeks, trying to ease the redness.

“I think you never gave yourself enough credit”, he points out, leaning his face on his hand while watching you. “You were always too focused on Jisung to actually see that I was not the only one looking at you with heart eyes”

You smile sheepishly, you knew your crush on your best friend was going to come up in the conversation at some point, but now that it did you don't know how to talk about it.

“Well, I found out not long ago that I was not as good as I thought at hiding my feelings”, you tell him, “apparently everyone knew that I liked my best friend—except him”

“Am I right to presume that you still have those feelings?” He asks slyly, your heart is beating fast, what if you tell him the truth and he says he doesn't want to see you anymore?

“Actually-”, you sigh, “I'm trying to get over them at the moment”

It's better he knows the truth, so he can enter this aware of your standing.

“Well, that's more than I expected”, he chuckles and you look at him confused, “I thought you were still hang up on him”

“I actually confessed”, you're feeling a bit more confident after his reaction, “and I was rejected, so I don't think there's much for me to hang on anymore”

“So, I'm sorry if I'm being too straightforward- but could I be greedy and believe I have a chance?” He asks and you're sure his eyes are wavering a bit, is he nervous? Did you actually make someone feel that way because of you?

“Yes”, you tell him, biting back a smile and blushing, he smiles at you sighing in relief.

He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.

“Then, shall we take a walk? I have a long way to make you fall for me”, he bites his bottom lip, waiting for you to take his hand.

This is it, the first step for you to get over Han Jisung.

Han sees Lia's lips move but he can't actually hear what she's saying, every word you said the last time, keeps sounding on his mind like a bloody curse.

What would he have done if he had known sooner? Would he have liked you back? Surely not, after all these years he didn't feel anything romantically related towards you, but that may be because he never thought about you in that way. Would he have told you to move on?

"Are you listening?" Jisung hears Lia say and snaps out of his thoughts.

"Yes, of course", he lies, giving her a slight smile and grabbing her hand to squeeze it.

"You're just… acting strange, since you came back from your parent’s house", she frowns.

"It's nothing, I just… had an argument with y/n and now she's mad at me", he tells a half truth.

"I'm sure she's going to forgive you", Lia says, sympathetically, "you're best friends after all"

Han nods, sighing.

He had avoided telling her the whole situation with you, it could make her insecure since you two live together.

There's something different too, he just doesn't feel the same way about her anymore, the burning flame and excitement he felt when they first started going out is slowly dying down and he just doesn't know what to do anymore.

All his previous relationships ended up because he was too busy, or because his personality didn't actually match with the other person, sometimes the girl he was dating just felt uncomfortable about his friendship with you, but he couldn't end years of friendship because he was dating so he ended the relationship.

However, Lia is different. She's great and confident, she doesn't care that he lives with you because she trusts him. She's calm, her personality is nice, she's nice. So why? Why is he feeling like this suddenly? Why is he wavering when it comes to starting this new relationship?

When he gets to practice after a weekend of resting, he is still confused, however, he's trying his best to stay focused on their new album, music is the only thing he is sure of in his life right now.

It's half past the time practice should start and Seungmin is not there yet, after one more song he asks Bangchan about it, he's starting to get worried, what if something happened to you?

“Oh, don't worry about it, he's just interviewing his roommate prospect”, Chan answers.

Han freezes. Then, that means you're going back home?

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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

Taglist(I won't be tagging people without age in their profile or blank blogs in my content)

@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @seungminsapuppy @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98

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