#i am THE ‘what you waiting for’ enjoyer and i will not apologize

[a-moth-to-the-light]

somi’s “fast forward” is my yearly reminder that somi can release the boringest club anthem ever and i’ll still be obsessed with it because her VOICE OMG !!!!

[hyuckiefluff]

The Wicked Game of Love| Lee Haechan

pairing: slytherin! haechan x ravenclaw! fem.reader genre: rivals to lovers, smut, angst wc: 21k+ (full fic) content warning: explicit content, unprotected sex, public sex, oral (fem. receiving), rough sex (hair-pulling, light spanking), marking (hickeys, bruises), forced proximity, toxic family dynamics, blood status discrimination, mean haechan, usage of wizard ver. of a slur, canon divergence (post-hogwarts /ministry setting), their relationship gives whiplash i apologize in advance, emotional hurt/comfort. summary: Lee Haechan was a pure-blood heir raised to hate everything you are. You, a half-blood girl who knew better than to let your guard down around someone like him. You were never supposed to want each other—until one disastrous kiss shatters everything you’ve worked to protect. a/n: AT LAST it is here!! my blood, sweat, and tears went into this u guys. i hope it was worth the wait. also i somehow ended up with a very dramione-coded fic (yes, this is me coming out as a dramione enjoyer). it’s so long i had to split it into two parts because apparently i don’t know when to stop. part two should be up right after this one (unless i passed out from exhaustion). pls enjoy and scream at me about it in the comments <3 ps: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABYGIRL HAECHAN!!! ILYSM!!!

READ PART 2 HERE

“I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask why I do so? I do not know, but I feel it, and I am tormented.” — Catullus, poem 85

What you and Lee Haechan had could only be described as pure, unadulterated rivalry. Or it started that way, at least.

Your mother and his father had been political opponents for as long as you could remember—two towering figures in the wizarding world, constantly at odds in public and behind closed doors. While your mother built her career on progressive reform and transparency, his father operated in shadows, pulling strings and building alliances that made him one of the most quietly feared men in wizard politics. When your mother was named Minister of Magic, it was only by a thin margin, one that turned their rivalry into something closer to open war.

Because of your parents’ standing, and their closely intertwined conflict, you were often forced to share space. Too much of it. Not just at Hogwarts, but everywhere. Ministry galas, private events, summer functions.

Haechan was like a buzzing fly in your ear, a little gremlin who made it his life’s mission to drive you up the wall. You didn’t like him. You didn’t like his voice, or his slouchy posture, or the way he looked at you with those half-lidded eyes. You didn’t like the stupid pattern of moles on his face or the way he always knew exactly which button to press. 

Everyone who knew you, knew you couldn’t stand him. If anything, the daily verbal sparring made it pretty damn clear. But what no one could’ve ever predicted was how quickly this would change.

A change that started when your mother was officially sworn in as Minister.

The announcement made headlines across every wizarding publication, and for a brief moment, your name was something people said with admiration. Students congratulated you in the corridors, professors gave you subtle nods of approval, and even the portraits seemed more polite than usual.

Your mother had been a respected Ministry official long before taking office, a well-known pureblood figure who shocked everyone by marrying a Muggle-born wizard, a choice that set tongues wagging long before you were born. Eventually, your father cracked under the pressure of a world he never fully belonged in, leaving your mother in favor of a simpler life with a Muggle woman.

Because your mother was so busy with her political career, you grew up with your father in the Muggle world, isolated from magic entirely until the age of ten, when strange incidents like your hair changing colors overnight, glass shattering during arguments started happening and forced your mother to intervene.

She brought you into a world you didn’t know then. Hogwarts became your fresh start, your chance to prove you belonged in the magical world despite whispers about your blood status, your father’s scandalous departure, and your upbringing.

Which was exactly why, when you walked into the Great Hall a few days after your mother was sworn in and saw the headline The Daily Prophet had run, it hit so viciously.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N. Have you seen this?”

Hannah Parkinson’s voice stopped you on your way to the Ravenclaw table. She unfolded her copy with a dramatic flair and shoved it into your face. Your stomach dropped as you read the words.

“THE MINISTER’S HALF-BLOOD HEIRESS: RAISED BY MUGGLES, GROOMED FOR POWER?”

Under the headline was a moving photo of you walking through a Muggle market wearing jeans, scuffed trainers, and a second-hand T-shirt. You hadn’t even noticed the photographer.

Rita Skeeter’s quill did its best to flay you alive.

“Young Miss Y/L/N may carry a famous surname, but does she carry the polish befitting the office? Sources say the new heiress spent most of her childhood in a Muggle household, blissfully ignorant of wizarding custom until age ten—hardly the upbringing our world expects from a Minister’s child.

Classmates describe her as ‘aggressive on a broom, and foul-mouthed in the hallways’.  One wonders whether this half-blood Seeker has the temperament to represent us on the international stage.”

And it continued into the next page, because Skeeter never knew when to stop.

“Her fashion sense appears equally questionable as she’s seen in the picture wearing Muggle denim and a shirt bearing a ‘Misfits’ logo (whatever that means). One hopes Madam Malkin can work miracles.”

The tears welled in your eyes before you could blink them back. Skeeter had somehow managed to hit all of your insecurities with one article—your parents separation, the years spent as the weird kid, the endless fight to prove you belonged in the wizarding world—and splashed them across the breakfast tables of the entire wizarding world.

“Aww, is the Minister’s little charity case going to cry?” Hannah cooed mockingly.

Before you could even find the words or grab your wand to shut her up, there was a loud crack behind you. The paper in her hands tore clean in half, as if slashed by an invisible blade. Hannah stumbled back in shock.

Next thing you knew, Lee Haechan was walking past you, his wand still glowing faintly. Dark hair fell in soft waves over his eyes, his uniform tie was crooked as always, his expression flat with boredom.

“Parkinson,” he drawls “I’d ask if the Prophet’s paying you for distribution, but just like your father you clearly enjoy handing out trash for free.”

A collective ooh rippled across the Hall. Hannah’s face turned an impressively blotchy shade of red before she turned around and stalked off, tripping over the hem of her robes.

Haechan turned then, catching your eye before his gaze dipped to your jeans and the battered trainers peeking out beneath your open robes.

“And you.” His mouth curved into a half-snarl. “If you insist on dressing like a stray Muggle, don’t act shocked when the rats sniff you out.”

You flinched at his words, feeling even more self-conscious than when Hannah was insulting you.

He nudged the ruined paper with his shoe, his voice low so only you’d hear it. “Never bleed where they can smell it.” Then, louder in a mocking tone “Try to keep up, you’re the Minister’s pet now.”

He turned on his heels and strolled back to the Slytherin table, his friends thumping him in the back in glee.

You stood frozen, not knowing how to react. He humiliated you, which wasn’t a new thing in your relationship. But this time, it felt as if he’d thrown the punch so no one else could.

After that day, Haechan was still a nuisance to you. Still the boy whose father would do anything to see your mother fail. But now his teasing felt different. It wasn’t sharp the way it used to be. His taunts started landing just shy of cruelty, aimed to sting you into strength instead of out of it. No one noticed the difference except you.

Bit by bit, you found yourself almost looking forward to it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

In the days following the article, you did your best to become invisible—but Hogwarts was not a place that allowed anonymity when your name was constantly on the front page of newspapers. Rita Skeeter’s words spread fast, and soon every corridor was filled with whispers about your family. The attention made you retreat into solitude, often spending your free periods hiding among the furthest library stacks.

One afternoon, as you sat hunched over your Charms textbook, the chair across from you scraped loudly against the stone floor. You looked up, startled and already annoyed.

"Did you lose your way?" you asked coldly, glaring at Haechan as he settled carelessly into the chair opposite.

"Unfortunately not.” He replied with a yawn, dropping his textbooks onto the table with a thud that made you flinch. 

"What do you want, Haechan?”

He raised a brow. “Wow, no ‘hello’? No ‘thank you for publicly humiliating a pureblood princess on my behalf’?”

​​"Right, I almost forgot chivalry’s alive and well in Slytherin.” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Only when it comes with entertainment value." He leaned back, arms behind his head. "And you're a surprisingly decent show these days."

"Glad I could provide," you muttered. “Did you come here just to annoy me?”

"Nah, I just figured you were desperate enough to tolerate my presence," he retorted, flashing a shit eating grin. "Since your fellow Ravenclaws aren't exactly lining up to spend time with you these days."

You narrowed your eyes. "If you're looking to have a laugh, go bother someone else."

"Believe me, watching you sulk around like a kicked puppy isn’t that fun anymore."

"Then leave," you hissed.

“Can't. I need your notes."

You scoffed loudly. "You're delusional if you think I'd help you."

"Am I?" he tilted his head thoughtfully. “Cause you still haven’t hexed me, which means you're at least considering it."

Your wand hand twitched under the table, and he noticed immediately, mouth quirking upward in amusement. The two of you were used to swapping harmless hexes for years. Silly stuff like changing each other’s hair color, gluing quills to fingers, turning the other’s pumpkin juice to green sludge during breakfast. Nothing scarring, but enough for you to flinch when the other’s temper flared. Haechan’s smirk said he remembered every jinx.

The nature of your relationship is exactly why you weren’t used to having him on your side all of a sudden, and you couldn’t be judged for holding him at a safe distance when you had no idea what his intentions were. 

Especially now that his father was capable of doing anything to ruin you and your mother’s reputation with the purpose of hindering her future reelection. Not to mention, you hated feeling like you owed him anything.

"You didn't have to interfere the other day," you muttered bitterly, unable to meet his gaze. "I could’ve handled Hannah myself."

He didn't respond at first. The quiet stretched long enough that you glanced up just in time to catch a strange expression crossing his features. He masked it quickly with indifference.

"Parkinson annoys me," he shrugged.

"Since when?" you raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

He leaned forward, voice dropping into a velvety murmur. "Since she started messing with what's mine."

"Excuse me?" you stammered. 

"Mine to torment, I mean," he corrected, rolling his eyes. "Merlin, don't get ahead of yourself."

"I wasn't," you snapped, embarrassment twisting sharply in your stomach.

"I know." His smirk returned. "Your pride wouldn't allow it."

You huffed, returning your gaze to your textbook, pretending to read despite the words blurring uselessly in front of you.

He flipped open his own book, pretending to skim through pages in bored silence. After about twenty minutes of silent “studying”, he stood up without looking at you.

"I’ll come back tomorrow for those notes.

You hesitated, feeling the inexplicable urge to humor him, despite every reason not to. "Fine. Whatever."

"And stop hiding in the library every day. It's depressing."

"Fuck off," you shot back sharply.

His answering laugh echoed as he walked away and you sat there for the next few minutes trying to summon any sense of concentration to no avail.

A week later you were back in the library, this time sequestered at a corner table piled with parchment and potion vials. Professor Slughorn had paired the two of you for an extra-credit antidote project—“my favorite students working together!” he’d said with a wink—and neither of you had managed to wriggle out of it.

Haechan wasn’t really doing any work, he just kept  twirling his quill and splattering ink blots across your carefully labeled ingredient chart.

“Could you not?” you snapped, blotting at the stains.

“Relax,” he said, slouching until his knees bumped yours under the table. “Don’t you know that chaos is the mother of invention?”

“That mentality is how you melted the cauldron earlier in class”

He grinned. “That was funny, though.”

You rolled your eyes and bent back over your parchment, quill scratching furiously across the page. You could feel him watching you, but you refused to look up.

The quiet of the library was broken by a burst of loud whispers from a nearby table.

“…I bet he only keeps the half-blood around because he feels bad for her—”

“—heard they sneak off after curfew. Wonder what she’s giving him in return…”

You didn’t even need to guess who they were talking about. It was obvious what people thought when they saw you with the Slytherin golden boy, the heir of one of the most ancient pureblood families. They probably thought you were his charity case as well. That you were stupid enough to want him around after all he said to you.  

Your pulse pounded too hard in your ears to hear Haechan’s chair scraping back. A second later, the gossipers’ table went silent, punctuated only by the unmistakable snap of someone’s quill being broken in half.

He walked back to your table and dropped into his seat, jaw tight. “Idiots.”

You shoved your notes into a messy stack. “I’m done for tonight.”

“Y/N—” he reached across the table, but you were already on your feet.

You didn’t stop until you reached an unused classroom three corridors away. It was cold and dusty, with cobwebs in the corners and desks scattered around.

The ghost of a bride hovered near the corner, sobbing quietly into her translucent veil. You ignored her as you braced both hands on the windowsill, trying to steady your breathing, willing the sting behind your eyes to fade. 

After a few minutes, the ghost floated silently through the wall, giving you a mournful look—as if accepting that you had more reason to cry tonight.

The door clicked open after a few seconds.

“Thought I told you I was done,” you said without turning.

“And since when do I listen?” Haechan closed the door behind him.

You didn’t reply, only sound that could be heard was your quiet sniffles and his slow steps getting near.

“They’re not worth it.” His voice was careful. “A new article will come out tomorrow and everyone will move on. You know people need a new chew toy every week.”

You huffed a shaky laugh. “Easy for you to say. Your family’s never been headline fodder.”

“Sure we have. Just with less sensational adjectives.” He stepped closer until your shoulders brushed lightly. “Besides, if they’re going to talk, we might as well give them something good to gossip about.”

You glanced up at him, puzzled. “Like what?”

Haechan hesitated for a quick second, before his mouth quirked into that half-smile you recognized as the one he gave before saying something ridiculous. “We could pretend to date.”

A surprised laugh burst out of you, louder than you’d intended. “Fake dating? Seriously?”

“Why not?” His expression was deceptively casual, but his eyes stayed serious on yours. “It’s the quickest way to control the narrative. People eat that shit up.”

You shook your head, smiling, expecting him to crack up and admit he was joking any second now. But his expression didn't waver, and you faltered slightly.

“You’re not serious.”

His gaze didn’t shift. “What if I am?”

You stared at him, waiting for the joke, the laughter—but it didn’t come. Still, the idea was too absurd. Fake dating Lee Haechan? Impossible.

You shook your head again, forcing another laugh as you quickly dismissed the notion. “Nice try, Lee. But I think I’ll stick to something easier to manage like maybe getting top marks in our Potions assignment?”

He chuckled, finally relenting. “Suit yourself.”

Another tear escaped as you laughed softly, embarrassed. You swiped at your cheek. “God, I hate crying.”

“Yeah, you’re an ugly crier.” He nudged your shoulder gently

You rolled your eyes, shoving his arm, but he caught your hand mid-motion. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, making your breath catch. For a moment you both stood there quietly, until finally, you let out a slow exhale and allowed your head to rest carefully against his shoulder.

He stiffened for barely a second, then relaxed, leaning gently into your weight.

Neither of you spoke again until the clock tower chimed curfew. Reluctantly, you straightened, feeling calmer but oddly reluctant to move away from him.

“We should finish that antidote tomorrow,” you murmured.

He nodded, eyes searching your face as if confirming you really were okay. “All right.”

When he left, his suggestion lingered in your thoughts, stuck there like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Fake dating Lee Haechan. You snorted softly to yourself, shaking your head as you walked back to the common room. The idea was not only ridiculousbut completely impossible.

Yet your brain, traitorous as always, circled back stubbornly to it. The thought of Haechan holding your hand in the corridors, leaning closer at dinner, brushing a casual kiss to your forehead in front of everyone...

Heat rose sharply in your cheeks.

Ridiculous, yes… but not completely unappealing, if you were honest. He was handsome and smart, plus he wasn’t as irritating as you originally thought.

You shook your head again firmly, as if to physically dislodge the thought. No. You couldn’t afford to indulge this. It was crazy. Dangerous, even.

But as you walked up to the Gold Eagle Knocker at the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room and answered the riddle, you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up at the thought of everyone believing you belonged to each other.

You spent more and more days studying with Haechan after that. Or rather, you studying while he studied you. It was a comfortable escape from judgmental whispers and the scrutiny of everyone else’s eyes. Somehow, he’d become your calm in the midst of chaos.

To your surprise, Haechan was actually a good listener, offering better advice than anyone else you'd ever met. It was unexpected for someone who seemed born to antagonize, but behind his cutting remarks was someone who noticed more than he let on.

He was even helping you improve your flying form, despite technically being your biggest rival since both of you played Seeker. But he’d started noticing small flaws in your technique, quietly pointing them out during your private drills. You only learned to fly at eleven, which made you less experienced compared to Haechan who’d practically grown up on a broom.

“You’re still dropping your shoulder every time you dive for the Snitch,” he called over one afternoon, a playful grin on his face as you landed and sat on the grass.

“I do not,” you shot back, brushing hair from your sweaty forehead.

“Yes, you do.” He snorted lightly, tossing himself onto the grass beside you. “It’s why I keep beating you in dives.”

“Whatever.” You sighed, picking at blades of grass. Admitting your weakness felt uncomfortable, but the words slipped out anyway. “It’s just...dives still freak me out a bit.”

His teasing expression softened immediately. Quietly, he stood and held out a hand. “Come on, I’ll show you how to fix it.”

You hesitated only a second before taking his hand. The warmth of his fingers sent a small flutter through your chest.

“Mount your broom,” he instructed gently, letting go once you were steady. “But don’t kick off yet.”

You did as told, gripping the handle tight enough to hide the slight tremble in your fingers. He moved behind you, his presence too close. You felt your breath catch sharply when one of his hands gently settled on your lower back, steadying you. His palm felt impossibly warm through your Quidditch robes.

“You’re way too tense,” he murmured, amused. You jumped slightly when his other hand rested firmly on your shoulder. “Relax a bit, yeah?”

“How am I supposed to relax when you’re—”

“Just trust me.”

You tried to turn your head but he gently redirected your chin with his fingertips, guiding your gaze straight ahead. 

“Eyes forward. If you were flying, you'd have crashed already.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from the soft rasp of his voice near your ear and the firm grip of his hands. You swallowed thickly. “It’s hard to concentrate with you right there.”

“I’m just correcting your form,” his fingers moved softly along your spine, and every nerve in your body seemed to spark under his touch.

His grip tightened slightly on your shoulder, pressing it into a more relaxed position. “Keep it down like this. Shift your weight forward without leaning into your broom too hard.” His breath was warm in your ear. “Trust your broom, and trust yourself. And stop tensing every muscle just because you’re afraid you’ll fall.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mumbled, frowning. “You were born with a broom attached to your hand.”

“Just try the dive.”  he chuckled.

You hovered mid-air and bent forward, shoulders steady this time as the broom descended. The dive went smoother and your stomach didn’t feel like a bottomless pit. 

“That…felt better.”

He grinned. “Told you.”

You dismounted, heart still thumping. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he said, grabbing his own broom. Then, with a teasing smile, “Just remember who helped you when you finally beat me to the Snitch.”

The following week The Great Hall hummed with the usual breakfast chatter. It had been an awkward morning, people seemed more on edge than usual and you didn’t even know why until commotion started by the Slytherin table.

Haechan’s voice rose sharply with anger, breaking through the murmurs. “Mind your own business, will you?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw him glaring down a small cluster of Hufflepuffs who immediately ducked their heads, faces flushed and eyes darting nervously. He snatched a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet from one boy’s trembling fingers. He looked up and his eyes locked onto yours.

“Enjoying this?” he stalked toward you, paper clenched in one fist.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, defensive under the weight of everyone’s stares.

He threw the Prophet down onto the Ravenclaw table. The headline screamed out in black lettering “MINISTRY SCANDAL—LEE FAMILY FACING INQUIRY OVER ILLEGAL DARK ARTEFACTS”

“You happy now?” Haechan hissed. “Your mother’s finally getting rid of the bad press. Congratulations, Minister’s pet.”

“What… I—We had nothing to do with this!”

“Oh, really?” he sneered bitterly, leaning in closer. “Funny how these stories started coming out right after the articles about you. Maybe Skeeter wasn’t so wrong… hanging around Muggles didn’t teach your family much about fair play.”

A few gasps echoed softly around you. You wanted to scream, to hex him right then and there, but your hands shook too badly under the table to even grip your wand.

You lifted your chin, staring back. “What are you really so upset about? That your father’s finally being exposed, or that people might think you’re just like him?”

His expression faltered enough to let you know your barb had landed. Of anything you could’ve said that was probably the worst for him.

Haechan didn’t just resent his father. He was terrified of becoming him. Every cruel instinct he buried, every smirk that masked something darker, every time he played the game too well—he wondered if he was already halfway there. So hearing it from your mouth, that disgust, that echo of everything he feared he might become? It was too much and it shook something in him loose. 

“You’re right,” he said with a cruel laugh. “My father’s not a good man. But at least he never pretended to be. Your mother clawed her way to the top on the back of others and you’re just her dirty little project. Filthy blood dressed in silk. And no matter how high you climb, you’ll always reek of where you came from.”

The air drained from your lungs. It wasn’t just the insult — it was how easy it came to him. As if it had always been there, lurking under his tongue. You stared numbly at the crumpled headline on the table. 

He was clearly deflecting. Protecting himself and his family’s name. But you never expected him to use words you’d only ever heard whispered by the worst kind of witches and wizards.

Haechan stormed out of the Great Hall, past the whispers and stares, past the first-years who scrambled aside in fear, past the professors who pretended they didn’t see anything. He didn’t slow down until he reached the abandoned courtyard behind the greenhouses, his breaths coming short and shallow.

He braced a hand against the cold stone wall, his pulse pounding sickeningly in his ears.

“Filthy blood dressed in silk”

The echo of his own voice made bile rise in his throat. He’d said it so easily, so effortlessly cruel, exactly like his father would have.

He could still see the way your expression had shattered. Not in anger—that would have been easier to stomach—but stunned disbelief, pain etched deep into your features, your chin held high even as your eyes welled with tears. He’d torn you open, hit you exactly where he knew it would cut deepest, and he’d done it because he couldn’t face feeling vulnerable himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered harshly, sliding down onto the nearest bench and burying his face in his hands. He felt like a coward. No, he felt worse.  He felt exactly like the kind of person he’d sworn he would never become.

He’d watched you go through this already, helped you pick up the pieces, telling you people would forget, that it wouldn’t matter in the end. But he’d never imagined his family would become the next target. He’d never expected the anger, the embarrassment, to burn so personally.

He swallowed thickly, head tilting back against the wall, gaze fixed unseeingly on the darkening sky. He needed to fix this. Needed you to understand that he’d meant none of it, that he wasn’t like his father, even if today he’d failed spectacularly at proving it.

But how could you possibly forgive him after what he'd said?

He wasn’t even sure if he could forgive himself.

The courtyard incident never reached the Headmaster, but the castle carried gossip faster than owls. By the next morning everyone knew Lee Haechan had called the Minister’s daughter “filthy blood” to her face. Ravenclaws pitched him glares sharp enough to cut skin. Half the Slytherins avoided eye contact, the rest wore smirks that said at least one of us finally said it out loud.

You refused to be in the same corridor with him, let alone speak. At meals you sat with your team while he took the far end of the Slytherin table and toyed with food he never finished. Whenever you entered the library, he left. Wordlessly. Every time.

The distance should have made things easier, instead it thrummed like a headache behind your eyes.

Thing’s should’ve calmed down after that, but the Prophet ran a follow-up column on the Lee investigation, calling Haechan directly a liability to the family reputation. Skeeter framed his words against you in the Great Hall as proof of the “volatile Lee temper,” the perfect angle to question whether the family’s dark artefact inquiry hinted at deeper corruption. 

She quoted unnamed “allies” of the Lee family who feared the heir’s public outbursts were undermining decades of carefully polished prestige. In Skeeter’s telling, Haechan wasn’t just an embarrassed teenager but a wobbling pillar threatening to topple the entire Lee dynasty.

You closed the paper before anyone could see your hands shaking. Whatever anger you still felt, seeing him reduced to a scandalous article—no less than you had been—left a sour taste in your mouth that lasted throughout breakfast.

By the time you slid into Charms class, your stomach was in knots. Professor Flitwick’s flickering quill skated across the blackboard, dividing your Charms class into pairs for the upcoming Presentation on Non-Verbal Counter Charms.

The moment your name appeared next to Lee, H., the knots pulled so tight you thought you might throw up.

Across the room, Haechan twirled his wand between two fingers, deliberately avoiding your gaze. You’d managed to avoid him so well you were half-convinced the castle had sprouted secret passages just to keep you apart, so being forced into proximity again felt deeply unpleasant. 

“Partners will demonstrate in two weeks,” Flitwick announced, clapping his tiny hands. “Research and practice outside class is essential!”

Reluctantly, you gathered your things and walked stiffly to the empty seat next to Haechan. He didn’t bother moving his books to make room for you.

“I wrote down a few options,” you said, dropping your notes onto the corner of the desk. “I’ll handle wand movement notation, you can do the theory.”

Haechan barely cracked one eye open. “Pass. Last time I trusted your wand work, I nearly lost my eyebrows.”

“That was in Defense class, and you deserved it,” you snap, voice sharp enough that two Gryffindors glancd over. “Just do the theory, Haechan. It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—did I miss the part where we decided you’re in charge?” He straightened slowly, finally meeting your glare. “If Flitwick’s grading us on performance, I’m not gonna let you take all the spotlight.”

You exhaled sharply. “Then what’s your brilliant idea?”

“We can meet in the library tonight,” he said evenly. “Let’s practice first, figure out who does what later.”

“Fine,” you snapped.

“Fine.” He leaned back again. “And let’s do something advanced. Your choice, if that makes you feel better.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering a resigned “Whatever”

When you arrived at the library a few hours later, it was mostly empty aside from a Ravenclaw girl who was crying into her Potion notes and Madam Pince who was judging from her desk at the front. Haechan was sitting at a back table, posture so straight it seemed unnatural for him. His eyes flicked up only when you dropped your bag across from him.

“Non-verbal Disillusionment,” you said by way of greeting. “It’s a simple figure eight motion. If you botch it, I’m not explaining to Flitwick why you’re half-invisible in class.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too.”

“Let’s try partial disillusionment first, just my hand."

He raised his wand, eyes narrowing in concentration. "Stay still," he murmured. His wand flicked in a tight spiral. At first nothing happened, then slowly your fingertips began to shimmer into the tabletop, camouflaging perfectly with the wood.

“Not bad,” you admitted, slightly impressed.

He lowered his wand, the illusion fading quickly. "Your turn."

You focused carefully, tracing a precise spiral in the air. His hand flickered briefly before returning fully visible.

He gave you a faint smirk. "Looks like you need some pointers."

“Just be quiet for two seconds, will you?"

"Maybe try easing up on the wrist movement," he suggested anyway. "Less stiff."

You tried again and his fingertips vanished almost completely. He flexed them experimentally.

"Better," he said quietly.

Halfway through the wand practice he paused. "About the other day, in the Great Hall—"

You tensed immediately, eyes snapping up to meet his. “I’m not really here for an encore performance,” you muttered. 

Your counterspell fizzled again, causing reddish brown to bleed through the fading illusion on his arm. He didn’t mock you this time. Instead, he silently recast the charm, patiently waiting for you to try again

“I was a dick,” he said quietly. “And not in my usual charming way. I mean… a proper, full-scale dick.”

“I’m aware.” You said, though you wanted to laugh at the way he described that.

“I crossed a line," he finished, holding your gaze steadily. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that or called you a—”

“A filthy half-blood?” you finished, swallowing around the tightness in your throat.

His jaw tightened. “Yeah. My father always taught me the fastest way to look strong was to punch down. It’s taken me this long to realize how pathetic that is.”

"You didn't have to throw me to the wolves to save yourself."

He exhaled slowly, looking tired and ashamed. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

His sincerity softened some of the tension that had lodged itself inside your chest. After a pause, you gave him a small nod. “Apology acknowledged.”

He tilted his head cautiously. “But not accepted?”

"Still pending," you offered quietly. "But no more low blows and no more humiliating me publicly."

He almost smiled, relaxing slightly. "Fair, truce?"

You hesitated, then held out your hand. "Truce."

He took it firmly, and you felt warmth linger briefly even after he let go. You hesitated, fingers tracing the edge of your wand. 

“How are you doing, by the way? With... everything. The Prophet. The investigation on your father.”

Haechan looked down at the table, then exhaled a laugh that had no humor in it. “It’s weird. Part of me’s pissed they’re dragging his name through the dirt. The other part…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “The other part thinks maybe it’s what he deserves.”

You stayed quiet, but your hand crept across the table, resting just near his.

“I keep thinking,” he said softly, “if they tear him down, does that mean they’re tearing down part of me, too?”

You bit your lip. “No. You’re not him.”

“Don’t sound so sure.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I sounded exactly like him that day in the Great Hall.

“But that’s not who you are.” You reassured him softly.

His hand moved then, his pinky brushing yours.

“Thanks,” he said, voice barely above a breath.

“Ready to try the full-body charm?”

He leaned back with a teasing smirk. "Try not to make me disappear permanently. I know you'd miss me."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't entirely suppress your smile. "Don't tempt me."

For the next hour you traded spells and counter-spells. He still rolled his eyes and mocked your notes, but the comments landed softer every time, the edge dulled by something like mutual respect or at least mutual exhaustion. When Madam Pince finally shooed you out of the library, you’re silently looking forward to the next practice.

After that truce in the library, nothing between you and Haechan got any easier.

In private, he still showed up to practice and study. In public, he kept his distance, afraid that more articles would come out. The more time you spent around him, the riskier everything felt.

If anyone had asked, you would have denied thinking about Lee Haechan at all—denied the way your pulse lurched when his broom skimmed too close during matches, denied how your gaze drifted to his mouth when he argued with you in class, denied the fierce stab of protectiveness that flared whenever someone else insulted him.

But your parents were still political adversaries, and it was the middle of the elections which meant everything was so much more fragile. You were starting to think that The Prophet had spies in Hogwarts. The rumor that Rita Skeeter could transform into a fly and that’s how she heard so many private conversations was starting to seem more believable every day. 

Because of the complexity of all these things, you hand no choice but to roll your eyes at Haechan in the corridors, call him insufferable beside your friends, and let the castle believe you hated him without exception.

Mostly you stuck with your own Quidditch team since it was easier to pretend around them. Venting about the Slytherin Seeker was practically a bonding ritual.

“He’s such an asshole!” Mika spat after a Saturday match, pushing her dark hair off her forehead.

“I can’t believe Madam Hooch let that shoulder check slide,” Renjun grumbled, ripping off his gloves. “He nearly sent you into the stands.”

“Typical Slytherin, they only know how to play dirty,” you agreed breathlessly, bruised, and secretly exhilarated.

But you weren’t totally innocent either.

That morning at breakfast, right before the match, you’d gotten into one of your usual arguments with him over something silly like who’d scored more points this season or who had better broom control.

“Keep dreaming, Lee,” you said, smirking across the table. “You’ll fumble the second the Snitch shows up.”

He scoffed, chin propped on his hand. “If I win today, I want a reward.”

“A reward?”

“Yeah. Something worthy of beating you.”

You pretended to think, tapping your fork to your lip. “Fine. If you catch the Snitch, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The words left your mouth with a casual shrug, but the second you said them, his expression darkened with interest.

“Anything?” He asked, lowering his voice enough so only you could hear. “You might not like what I want though.”

You blinked, suddenly very aware of how close his knee was to yours under the table.

His gaze flicked briefly down to your mouth, then back up. “See you on the pitch, then.”  he said softly, pulling away with a smirk that left your cheeks burning.

You’d said it as a joke. Obviously. But now, after the match, with bruises blooming on your ribs and your teammates fuming about missed fouls, you couldn’t stop replaying that look on his face. And to top it all off…

He’d caught the damn Snitch.

You waited until your teammates were gone and the Slytherin tent was empty to walk in. Haechan was sitting on a bench there, shirt half-off and hair damp with sweat. 

“Took you long enough,” he sighed, leaning back in his arms.

“You’re lucky the wind was on your side today.” 

“Aht! Aht! Don’t come at me with that now, you were still confident enough to bet.’

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, you’re not even going to cash that in.”

“Oh, but I am.” He pushed off the bench slowly, stepping closer. “You can’t offer something like that and expect me to just forget.” 

You crossed your arms. “What do you want, then? A box of Fizzing Whizbees? A foot massage?”

“Tempting. But no.” His fingers reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before letting his hand drop. 

“I want you to admit I’m the better Seeker.” 

“Come off it.” you laughed.

He leaned in a fraction, his voice lower now. “Alright then. I want you to ask nicely.”

“What?”

“Please, Haechan, what do you want from me?” he said, mocking your voice. “Say it.”

He was getting too close. Your eyes flicked to his mouth for half a second, and you knew he caught it.

“Is this the part where you make me kiss your boots or something?” you scoffed, looking at a point behind him instead of his eyes.

“I have a better idea of what you can kiss.”

An annoying flush crept up your neck, lips parting in disbelief at the implication.

“Excuse me?” you asked, with a laugh that came out shakier than intended.

“You heard me.” He didn’t look away, didn’t even blink. 

This wasn’t your usual banter anymore. The kind you could dismiss with a scoff and a snide remark. This felt infinitely more charged.

“Oh, you’re disgusting.”  You muttered.

“We made a deal,” he said, stepping even more into your space. “And I won.”

You backed up slightly, only to hit the wooden lockers behind you.

“What exactly do you want from me, Haechan?”

“That,” he started, his voice lower and raspier now “is a great question.”

He moved slowly as if he was offering a chance to run but you didn’t. Maybe you should have.

His hand came up, knuckles brushing your jaw. “You want to know what I want?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“I want to know what happens when you stop pretending you hate me.”

“I don't pr—”

“Don’t lie. I've seen the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching, you’re so obvious.”

You tilted your head, defiant even now. “Fine, let’s say you're right. What then?”

He gasped so slightly you barely caught it before his smirk came back in full force.

“Then we need to do something about it.”

You stared up at him, close enough to count every damn mole on his stupid, perfect face.

He leaned in until his  lips brushed your ear. “Unless,” he whispered, “you’re scared you’ll like it.”

Your hands twitched at your sides.

“As if.”

You kissed him so hard you knew it would bruise later. And for a second it wasn’t about politics or Quidditch or the Prophet or who hated who first. It was just his mouth on yours, insistent and warm, and the way his hands gripped your waist possessively.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back, breathless. 

“That was definitely better than a foot massage.”

He barely finished the words before your mouth crashed onto his again, hungrier this time, any shred of dignity gone. Your fingers slid up his neck, tugging him down by the collar of his robes.

Haechan chuckled into your mouth, and you felt him press you harder into the wood, his body trapping you there.

“So much for hating me,” he murmured, breaking just far enough away to speak, his breath hot against your lips.

“Shut up,” you hissed, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him back down to you, kissing him roughly to silence that stupid mouth. 

He groaned against your lips, slightly annoyed at how good you were at this. Your hands caressed his jaw where stubble was growing. His hands found your hips and squeezed firmly.

You gasped, lips parting to give him an opening, and he took it immediately, deepening the kiss with the kind of reckless arrogance that made your knees tremble. One of his hands slid lower, slipping under your Quidditch shirt to brush bare skin.

“Fuck—” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut when his mouth pulled away to trail along your jaw. “Haechan.”

He hummed, pleased at the way his name sounded from your lips. “Say that again.”

You shook your head stubbornly, pulling his mouth back to yours, swallowing the cocky smirk you could feel forming. You needed him silent, you needed to stop thinking, stop remembering that this was Lee Fucking Haechan.

His thigh pressed between your legs, and suddenly it was harder to pretend you didn’t want this with every fiber of your being. Especially when you were arching against him, hips chasing the friction shamefully. He noticed and pressed harder, savoring the breathless sound you made.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he teased, nipping your lower lip.

“Just—god—stop talking,” you breathed, dragging your nails down the back of his neck, earning a rough groan that vibrated through you. 

Your head spun from how quickly this was happening, how eagerly your body surrendered to him.

He smirked against your lips. “But I like watching you argue.”

You grabbed his jaw firmly, forcing his gaze down to yours, reveling in the way his breath stuttered at your sudden boldness. “Haechan, I swear—”

“What?” His voice was challenging, eyes glittering with excitement. “What are you gonna do?”

The answer came in the form of your hand sliding down to palm him through the fabric of his quidditch trousers, smiling sharply when his confident expression fell, eyes squeezing shut as he bit out a moan.

“That.” You murmured, stroking him again, slowly.

He recovered quickly and was kissing you again with a hand tangling in your hair, tugging firmly enough to make you gasp.

“Two can play dirty, princess.”  He growled softly, hips pressing forward into your hand.

“Then fucking play,” you challenged, breathless.

His fingers swiftly undid the buttons of your trousers. Nothing but heat flushed your skin as he slipped his hand lower and under your panties, fingers finding exactly where you needed him.

You cried out sharply, hips bucking into his touch.

“So sensitive,” he teased, voice shaking just slightly as his fingers circled your clit gently, then pressed inside you. “I wonder if your team knows their perfect little seeker gets this wet for a Slytherin.”

“Shut—ah—” your retort melted into a moan, hips grinding shamelessly against his hand.

Your head fell back against the locker, lips parted in a silent gasp as Haechan’s fingers worked you over. Your legs were already trembling, breath hitching in time with every curl of his fingers.

The need to to wipe off the fucking look on his face of pure cocky satisfaction was overcoming. He was watching you unravel like this was the victory he really wanted—not the snitch, not the match, this is what he’d been craving the most.

“Who knew,” he murmured. “That you’d look this pretty falling apart all over my fingers.” 

You couldn’t even glare at him, all your strength focused on moving your hips against his hand, chasing that high, chasing him. Until the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching froze you both on the spot.

His hand stilled immediately, and you slapped it away in a a panic. Your pants were unbuttoned, his shirt was still half-off, your lips were swollen, and you could feel your pulse between your thighs, desperate and unfinished. This was not exactly how you wanted to be caught dead.

“Shit,” you hissed, shoving him back as quickly as your wobbly knees allowed.

Haechan grabbed his wand and muttered a cleaning charm under his breath, wiping any visible evidence from his hands and your legs. Then, he schooled his expression into that bored and slightly annoyed mask he wore in class.

You barely had time to fix your clothes before a voice rang out from outside.

“Haechan? You in here?”

The Slytherin beater, Na Jaemin.

Haechan stepped out of the tent as if he hadn’t just been knuckle-deep inside you. “Just grabbing my wand,” he lied smoothly. “I didn't know I needed a hall pass to change.”

Jaemin laughed. “Hey, was someone else in there?”

You forced yourself to step out, tucking your shirt in with trembling fingers and praying to every god in the castle that your face didn’t look as wrecked as it felt..

Jaemin blinked at you, confused. “Oh.”

Then he looked between the two, and you could see the pieces falling in place.

“Right…” he said, drawing out the word. “Well, don’t let me interrupt. Just  figured you’d want to see the scoreboard. They’ve posted top players.”

Haechan raised a brow. “Top players?”

Jaemin gave a pointed look. “i think you’ll be surprised.”

Then he turned and walked out, leaving behind a thick silence in his wake. You let out a breath, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“That was a close call.” He said, still looking way too proud for someone who’d just been caught mid-debauchery.

You glared. “I'm going to kill you.”

He smirked. “Only if you say please.”

The Ministry’s Galas always felt like a battlefield in ball gowns, but this year it was worse. Your mother moved through the ballroom with effortless grace, every nod and handshake a subtle show of dominance. You followed half a step behind, champagne flute untouched in your hand.

“Y/N, darling, try to look engaged,” she murmured, looping her arm through yours as she guided you toward yet another tedious cluster of political allies. “This is the perfect opportunity to make connections before graduation.”

“Can I at least enjoy dessert before I get offered a job I don’t want?” you said under your breath.

She laughed lightly as if you’d said something charming. “You have options, dear. The International Magical Cooperation office is always interested in young minds, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has already reached out. You could even apprentice under Councilwoman Fairbairn, she’s been watching you.”

You blinked, trying to summon enthusiasm. “That sounds... overwhelming.”

“It sounds like a future,” she corrected, smiling at a passing Wizengamot elder. “We can’t all be Quidditch captains forever.”

You clenched your teeth behind a tight smile. This entire night was curated around your mother’s standards. From your dress, your hairstyle, to your perfectly timed laugh. And you were so bored you could scream.

So when she paused to speak to a pair of visiting diplomats, you used the opportunity to escape toward the dessert table. You stuffed a sugared pumpkin tart into your mouth just to have an excuse not to answer questions about your “career trajectory.” If anyone asked again about your post-Hogwarts plans, you were going to throw yourself into the enchanted punch fountain.

The peace lasted until you felt that familiar prickle between your shoulder blades. You turned just as Haechan bowed to a council witch, and walked straight toward you.

“Enjoying the pastries, princess?” he asked, stopping close enough that the chandelier lights caught a storm of gold in his eyes.

“You should focus on your father’s damage control, not my dessert plate,” you replied, forcing a smile that hurt your cheeks.

“Trust me, he’s better at politics without me. Besides, I’m here to make sure you don’t die of boredom.” he said with a crooked grin. 

Then as if it was the most common thing, he wiped a bit of powdered sugar from the corner of your lip. The action shocked the reply out of your mind, and you had to look around to make sure nobody saw that. A passing journalist drifted too near so you stepped back on instinct and lifted your chin to reply.

“I would rather be bored than babysat by you.” The reporter’s quill twitched happily and moved on.

Haechan’s eyes cooled, but a corner of his mouth lifted. “If you keep insulting me that sweetly, people might think you mean the opposite.”

“Are you ever serious about anything?” you rolled your eyes, yet your pulse thudded hard enough to blur the string quartet.

He offered his hand. “One dance. You can call me names the whole time.”

“Not a chance,” you hissed but a council member brushed past and mistook your glare for a smile. “Oh, Miss Y/N, would you lead the next waltz?”

Before you could refuse, Haechan’s hand slid to your back. “She’d be delighted,” he said smoothly, steering you onto the glassy floor.

You settled your palm against his shoulder, felt muscle tense under velvet, and tried to count the steps. But his thumb brushed the inside of your wrist and the numbers scattered.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“It’s the tempo,” you lied.

The waltz spun you through three agonizing minutes of perfect posture and silent arguments fought with eyes alone. When the final note faded, applause burst around you, and you let go as if burned.

You escaped to a side corridor lined with stained-glass portraits. Halfway down, you heard his footsteps. You spun, skirt whipping.

“You had no right—”

“No right to what? Save you from making a scene?” He stopped an arm’s length away, breathing hard. “I’m pretty sure we’re here to keep appearances.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you snapped. “But I can fight my own battles.”

“I’m aware.”

A flickering wall sconce threw silver across his cheekbone, your eyes followed the droplets of melted snow that still clung to his hair from the ride here. He looked beautiful, and you hated it.

“Why do you always do this,” you said, softer now, “You always make everything harder than it needs to—”

He stepped closer. “Do you really not know why?”

Your breath caught, his gaze dipped to your lips.

“Haechan… this isn’t right,” you whispered.

“I know,” he answered, not moving back. “But tell me you don’t want it too.”

A voice rounded the corridor corner—two aides chatting about the banquet. Without thinking, you grabbed Haechan’s collar and dragged him into a narrow alcove behind a velvet drape. The aides passed but you still held onto him.

“You’re truly such a pain,” you breathed.

“You’re one to talk.” He said and kissed you before you could come up with another retort.

His hands framed your face, thumbs stroking away shock. Yours fisted in the silk of his robe as you kissed him back, matching every demand. The gala’s distant music thumped through the walls, but inside the alcove everything narrowed to the press of mouth on mouth, the soft catch of your breath, the relief of finally, finally shutting each other up.

When you broke apart, you were both trembling. He rested his forehead against yours.

“This is so dumb,” you breathed.

“I have to disagree.” 

Another set of footsteps came from outside and you pulled away smoothing your hair. He straightened his lapels with a tiny smirk on his lips.

“Lose the grin, Lee.” you said, slipping out first into the hall, masking swollen lips behind a polite smile. He followed a minute later, expression schooled into neutrality again.

Across the hall, your mother caught your gaze. You forced yourself to move toward her, while behind you his fingers brushed across the back of your hand before letting go

A week went by without much thought. The bruises from the gala’s waltz, the little half-moon marks his fingers left on your wrist, had faded. But the memory of that alcove kiss refused to. Unfortunately, life went on, and in your household that meant tea with the Minister at precisely eight in the morning.

Your mother was already seated in the glass-roofed conservatory, steam curling from a delicate china pot. She greeted you with the smile she reserved for diplomats.

“Sit, darling.”

You obeyed quietly but anxiety bubbled in your chest.  She only used this much ceremony when she was about to drop a bomb.

“I’ve been thinking about your future,” she began, pouring. “You’ve always excelled in Defense, but I know how fond you are of languages as well. So I called in a favor.”

Your stomach dipped. “Mom…”

She set a parchment envelope on the table. “A summer internship in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, right after NEWTs. You’ll shadow the Trade Accords division, they might even pay if you impress them.”

“I didn’t apply for this,” you said tightly.

“I applied on your behalf. They accepted instantly, obviously. One look at your marks, your pedigree—”

“Exactly,” you cut in. “My pedigree. When do I get to make a choice that isn’t pre-selected for political optics?”

Her expression cooled by a few hard degrees. “Opportunities like this don’t wait. You’d be foolish to refuse.”

The conversation spiraled quickly with her measured reasoning, your rising temper, and the clink of china as you set your cup down too sharply. In the end she dismissed you with a gentle but immovable, “We’ll speak once you’ve calmed down.”

You left the conservatory shaking, the parchment still unopened in your fist.

You considered skipping but pride shoved you into the Ministry lift at 8:59am. You wore sensible robes you hated, hair pulled back into a ponytail that was giving you a headache, and your heart was still hammering with resentment. But if you had to do this, you would do it well… and spitefully prove you didn’t need your mother to pull strings.

The lift grill rattled open onto a marble corridor lined with signage that said Level Five, International Cooperation. You approached the reception desk, rehearsing a polite introduction. Then you heard a laugh that froze you on the spot.

Haechan was leaning against the counter, chatting easily with the receptionist. He was wearing dark robes, and his hair was slicked back. The receptionist pointed toward a stack of orientation folders, he thanked her with a wink, and turned towards you.

His eyebrows shot up in shock when he saw you, then his mouth curved into a slow smile.

“Well, well. Fancy seeing you here on a Monday morning.”

You gave him a flat look. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, I’m guessing. Interning because my father thinks letting me rot on a beach all summer would reflect poorly on the family name.”

You raised a brow. “Was this the only department desperate enough to take you?”

“Actually,” he drawled, stepping closer, “Magical Law Enforcement was my father’s first pick but it was too much work so I requested this department specifically.” He tilted his head. “Imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the roster last night. Made this whole endeavor infinitely more entertaining.”

Heat crept up your neck, equal parts anger and something far less convenient. “I’m not here for your entertainment, Lee. Stay out of my way.”

“That might be difficult,” he said, tapping the crest on his folder. “Trade Accords division, same as you.”

Of course. Your mother couldn’t have orchestrated a more ironic punishment if she’d tried. But grateful relief pooled in your stomach anyways. At least you wouldn’t be alone in a sea of strangers, at least the one person who could keep up with you (and rile you up) would be right there. But you couldn’t show that. The whole structure of whatever twisted thing existed between the two of you depended on pretending you’d rather kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

The program coordinator, Ms. Thatch approached you, beaming at you both. “Wonderful! Our Hogwarts pair. Minister Y/L/N spoke highly of you, and Mr. Lee comes with stellar references. You’ll be working together on our project about Portkey Tariff revisions.”

You swallowed a groan, Haechan’s grin only widened.

“Looking forward to our collaboration,” he said sweetly, extending his hand. Ms. Thatch watched, expectant.

You shook it, pretending your pulse didn’t spike when his thumb brushed the inside of your wrist in a silent echo of the waltz from the gala. His eyes flickered with the same memory.

“I hope you can keep up,” you murmured under your breath.

“When have I ever disappointed you?” he answered, squeezing slightly before releasing your hand.

The morning of your first official group session, you found Haechan sitting on the arm of a leather sofa in the Ministry atrium, twirling his wand mindlessly and balancing a croissant on his knee. You approached slowly, arms full of color-coded folders of all the research you’d done already. He looked up, eyes dragging over your thoroughly professional appearance before raising a brow.

“Someone’s ready to storm the Wizengamot.”

“I can’t say the same about you.”

He popped the last bit of croissant into his mouth and spoke through the crumbs. “Relax, this thing’s just a formality. They don’t expect us to have actual solutions yet.”

“I’m not here to coast,” you huffed. “I’m not going to let anyone say I got this internship because of my mother.”

“Of course not. You’ve got enough pressure breathing down your neck without adding my laziness to it.” he replied with a dramatic sigh.

 “So you admit you’re lazy.”

“Ah, I'd call it strategic,” he corrected with a grin. “Why waste effort on a rigged game?”

You stared at him, genuinely annoyed now. “Why even be here if you’re not going to try?”

“Because I was told to be,” he said, still smiling but something behind his eyes hardened.

You opened your mouth to press, but Ms. Thatch appeared, waving the two of you over to the briefing room where interns settled around the long mahogany table. Ms. Thatch stood at the front, adjusting her elegant tortoiseshell glasses.

“Welcome back, everyone. Today we’ll outline initial proposals for the Portkey Tariff Revision project,” she said briskly. “I trust you all reviewed the necessary documents in preparation for this.”

You glanced quickly at Haechan, who was leaning back  and looking bored in the chair opposite you.

When Ms. Thatch’s gaze landed on you, she smiled encouragingly. “Miss Y/L/N, let’s hear your proposal first.”

You straightened, ignoring the faint twitch at Haechan’s lips, and began clearly, “The current tariffs favor Western European trade. I think we should revise the rates using updated data from underrepresented regions, especially in Eastern Europe and Asia. It would make things fairer across the board.”

Ms. Thatch nodded appreciatively. “Very good, any thoughts?”

Haechan leaned forward, eyes glinting as they locked onto yours. “That sounds good on paper but it ignores our current diplomatic priorities. Adjusting tariffs too quickly risks alienating our key European allies. I’d suggest a phased approach, start with targeted reductions for certain regions while giving our main trade partners time to adjust.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, feeling irritation rise at the implication that your idea was naïve. “So we just let the imbalance drag on for years while everyone tiptoes around it?”

He tilted his head, annoyingly calm. “No, we just need to be smart about timing. If we push too hard and too fast, we could lose cooperation completely. It’s not just about fairness, it’s about what’s actually doable.”

“Diplomacy requires action,” you shot back, voice sharpening despite your efforts to remain composed.

“When has rushing things ever gotten us anywhere?” he asked with a raised brow.

The other interns glanced between you two with barely hidden fascination. Ms. Thatch cleared her throat delicately. “Passionate debate, but perhaps we can find a middle ground?”

You flushed slightly, biting your lip. Beside you, another intern whispered something like awkward, but you ignored it.

“Well,” Haechan started, “we could try a hybrid approach. Immediate adjustments where the gaps are the worst, but phase in the rest over time. We could also offer incentives like better magical goods regulations for countries willing to work with the new model early on.”

You blinked. It wasn’t a terrible suggestion. It was annoyingly logical. Worse, you’d briefly considered something similar before dismissing it because it felt too cautious. You glanced at Ms. Thatch, whose expression was encouraging.

“…That could work,” you said reluctantly. “As long as we set clear timelines for change and don’t let it get buried in process.”

Haechan gave you a satisfied smile. “Look at that teamwork.”

Ms. Thatch clapped once, pleased. “Wonderful! A joint proposal from Mr. Lee and Miss Y/L/N. Excellent demonstration of cooperation.”

Your face warmed up at her compliments, but you were still annoyed because you'd unintentionally made Haechan look good too. He reclined in his chair again, twirling his quill lazily, with a little smirk on his face.

When the meeting ended, you gathered your parchments quickly, eager to escape the lingering awkwardness. But as you stood, Haechan slipped smoothly into step beside you.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, leaning slightly toward you.

“For what? Pointing out flaws in my idea?”

“For saving your impulsive approach from alienating half of Europe,” he corrected.

“Why do you act like you care about the outcome now?” you snapped softly.

“You’d be surprised.”

The lift chimed before you could answer. You stepped in first, forcing a slow breath. Haechan followed, positioning himself at a polite distance but still close enough that his body heat seeped through your robes.

The enchanted car lurched upward, then swerved left, then right in its usual nauseating zig-zag. Your boots slid and you lost your balance. Haechan’s hand shot out, pulling you against the solid plane of his chest.

“Careful…” he murmured.

“Thanks,” you managed, the word thin and embarrassingly high.

He released you the moment you steadied, but the imprint of his fingers stayed on your skin. When the doors finally opened on the Atrium, your pulse was thudding so hard you could hear it.

“See you tomorrow, partner,” he murmured, throwing a knowing glance over his shoulder as he exited.

You watched him disappear through the bustling floor realizing it was going to be a very long internship.

The next few days consisted of nothing but research. Haechan seemed more interested in the project after your argument. He claimed he was committed to helping but you suspected he just enjoyed contradicting your findings.

“Page six,” he announced, flipping your draft around. “Your import tariff curve is off by half a point.”

“It is not.” You muttered without looking up.

He leaned forward. “Wanna bet?”

You rubbed your temples, eyes throbbing from going through three decades worth of parchments. “Fine. Show me.”

Haechan stood and bent over your chair, his cologne wrapping around you. He pointed to a neat column of figures, far closer to your face than necessary.

“See?” he murmured. “You adjusted by seven percent, but the 1903 clause moved the baseline to eight.”

“Good catch,” you conceded through gritted teeth.

He straightened, grinning. “Say it louder, the ghosts in the basement might’ve missed it.”

You rolled your eyes, then pressed two fingers to the side of your neck and winced. All those hours of hunching had finally caught up with you.

Haechan’s smirk faded. “You okay?”

“Just sore,” you muttered, rotating your shoulder. “Thanks to someone who insisted we cross-reference three languages and thirty years of footnotes.”

“That same someone happens to give excellent massages,” he said, sliding behind your chair before you could protest. “Turn.”

You opened your mouth to refuse but then another sharp twinge shot down your spine. So with a reluctant sigh, you let his hands settle lightly on your shoulders.

“Don’t break me,” you mumbled, cheeks heating.

He chuckled, low. “You’ve survived Bludgers to the ribs. I think you’ll live.”

His thumbs worked slow circles into the knotted muscles at the base of your neck. Heat unfurled under your skin; the room seemed to narrow to the quiet rasp of parchment and the steady press of his hands.

“Better?” he asked, voice a breath from your ear.

“A little,” you managed, pulse thudding far too fast for mere relief.

He kneaded deeper, tracing careful circles. Your breath caught as his thumbs slid higher toward your neck. He paused, and you didn’t realize he was leaning in until you felt the faintest ghost of a kiss graze your bare shoulder where your robes had slipped. Your entire body stiffened in surprise.

“Haechan—” The name broke on a gasp as he kissed you again.

“I’ll stop if you want,” he murmured but his lips only drifted higher. Another kiss landed below your ear, teeth grazing a spot that made your breath hitch. He nudged your hair aside, mapping the exposed skin with his mouth.

“What are you doing…” you breathed.

“Just helping you relax,” he whispered, mouth warm on your neck.

You turned without thinking, and his mouth met yours, stealing the rest of your question. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging him closer. 

He stood from his chair and eased you back until you bumped the table. His tongue brushed yours; a low sound caught in his throat when you arched into him. Your hands found the loosened knot of his tie and pulled. He broke the kiss just long enough to trace your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Feeling better?”

You swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm, we gotta keep going then.” He kissed you again, deeper this time, hands sliding down to your waist and gripping tightly. His hips pressed forward, drawing a sharp gasp from you as you felt the heated line of his body. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, clinging as he kissed along your jaw, teeth gently scraping your skin.

“We shouldn’t—” you breathed, though you tilted your head to grant him better access.

“I know,” he said hoarsely. But neither of you stopped.

His hands slid down to explore the curves of your body through your robes. You felt dizzy, entirely consumed by him. He lifted you slightly onto the table, knocking scrolls and parchment to the floor, but you hardly cared. There was no one around in the Archives at this hour and all you could focus on was him—the fierce heat of his mouth, the soft catch of his breath when you bit his lip.

Your robes shifted upward, exposing bare thighs. His palms skimmed your skin, rough fingertips igniting sparks along your nerves. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours as you parted your knees instinctively, drawing him in closer.

“Lie back.” He murmured.

Your heart kicked up as you leaned onto your elbows, breath already shallow. His eyes didn’t leave yours, not even as he dropped to his knees, hands sliding up your thighs and pushing them apart with slow pressure. With his other hand he bunched your robes higher, the cool air hitting your skin in sharp contrast to the heat rolling off him.

“Haechan—” you gasped, tensing when his mouth brushed the inside of your thigh. 

You hadn’t expected how soft he’d be. How careful. He kissed higher, lips dragging up inch by inch until his breath was warming your core. You squirmed closer, needing him closer, needing somethinv to relieve the pressure building low in your stomach. His eyes flicked up to yours with a silent question in them. You nodded without hesitation.

His mouth was on you in a second. A sharp main escaped before you could stop it, echoing off the dusty shelves. His tongue moved slowly at first, learning you, and then with more purpose. Your hands fumbled for the edge of the table, gripping tight as your breath caught again and again. The sensations were overwhelming, so much better than anything you’d let yourself imagine.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Haechan—”

“You’re so fucking sweet,” he said between strokes. “Tastes better than I thought.”

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, voice cracking. “Please—”

“Not planning to.” His fingers dug into your thighs as he dragged his tongue in tight circles. “Gonna make you fall apart on my mouth.”

He groaned low against you, and the vibration nearly sent you over. Your hand flew to his hair, tugging, desperate, but he didn’t slow. His tongue worked you relentlessly, fingers digging into your thighs as you twitched.

“Haechan—fuck—” you choked, voice high and strangled as you came hard. Your thighs clenched around him but he still didn’t stop until you started to shudder.

You slumped back, breathing fast. Haechan rose slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You reached for him without thinking, pulling him into a kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips, but you didn’t care. You just needed to feel him.

“Less tense now?” he murmured, his smirk returning, but softer this time.

You exhaled, dazed. “Yeah. But—”

“I know,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes slipped closed. “This doesn’t leave the room.”

You nodded, even though everything in you hated the idea. He pulled back just a little, smoothing your robes down, then reached for his fallen notes without meeting your eyes. You fixed your hair with trembling hands, still trying to get your breathing and your thoughts under control.

But you knew the truth, even if you weren’t ready to admit it. This wasn’t just something that happened and pretending otherwise wasn’t going to make it go away.

[novashelby]

Sorry to be Blunt-John Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Warnings: Anal...just anal. John is licking booty hole while being an absolute king of a lover. Some spanking, biting, kissing, and clit loving. Dirty talk cause John has a sexy mouth. Word Count: 1,835 words of loving your ass Summary: John didn't want the tea, he wanted her...Well, her ass.

Please comment and reblog! Thank you for your support. I wrote this cause no one ever writes anal, and man, that is depressing.

John had discreetly locked the door behind them when they initially walked in for tea. The chemist’s daughter was supposed to be working the counter until kind John Shelby played sweet, innocent, and genuine. He’d been going to the same pharmacy for his children’s cough syrup for years, seeing her each time; shy, sweet, helpful. Oh, how helpful she was going to be now that he had her bent over the small kitchenette table of the staff room…. Every time he’d see her, all he’d think about was his hands full of her ass; pinching and grabbing, digging his hands into her soft flesh. “Never expected you to be this easy, love.” John chuckled in her ear as he slowly, tauntingly rolled up her dress skirts. “Not a bit of fight in you, huh?” The poor girl shivered as the cool air in the room hit her skin. John pushed up her garments until they rested upper back.

They were just having tea a few minutes prior, she thought, questioning her own actions as she offered herself. She did all that he asked…the tea was perfect, to his liking and she was sure of that. That is why she was so confused when John Shelby simply looked in the cup, studied it and decided it wasn’t what he wanted. “What? Is something wrong?” is what she asked him when he lazily brushed it off to the side and leaned back in the chair, eying her with his hands folded. 

Grinning, he nodded to her. “May I be blunt?”

And not expecting what he’d say next, she agreed. “Bluntness is nice. Is the tea not to your liking? I can make a new-”

“Please.” John casually grinned and said as if it was no issue. “I don’t want tea, really, I don’t. And I apologize for the effort you went through to make it.” With his hand, he motioned over her body. “Truthfully, I am a single man with four children and a busy job-”

“I’m sorry for that?”

John put his hand up. “Please. Anyway, whores are shite these days and I come in here a lot. I see you.” She knew he had enjoyment seeing the embarrassment on her face; the way the balls of her cheeks turned a rosy red. “I like what I see. You bending over, your arse outlined perfectly in your skirts as you restock the bottom shelves-personally, I think about it often-”

“Excuse me!”

“And because I am a Shelby, I have the right to say the most vulgar shite,” he added, standing. “I want to lick your arsehole….” 

She couldn’t recall what he said or did next, but she did understand that she was bent well over the table, gripping for her dear life; anticipating and waiting for his hands to tease all over her body. John stepped back, admiring her body. There was something so incredibly beautiful and erotic about her bare back; how the curves outline from the other side and the way her ass looked decorated in those pretty lace underwear. How he never expected her to be so experimental with her undergarments, but he was in no position to question that. Mesmerized, John took a step forward, his fingers dancing shapes over her back. A little smile tugged upon his lips as goosebumps shivered over her bare skin. She let out a long sigh as he tickled his fingers down her back and hooked around her panties. As he pulled them down, he kneeled, taking in her beautiful curves. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

A tiny murmur slipped from her lips as he continued to tease her with his feather-like touches, knowing damn well the tingles they were sending up her spine. They felt like zaps and jolts prodding at her delicate frame, allowing her head to buzz. John saw from the way her calves tightened, she felt so…heightened by everything. He watched closely as he drew with his fingers. “Bet your ass is pure,” he whispered. With both hands, he grabbed her perfect ass, one cheek in each hand; curling his fingers into her skin and watching her whimper out. Chuckling, he pulled at her ass before letting go. “Most men are too pussy. Me? Hmmm….I love a nice ass like yours.” He grinned, moving his hand back and landing a rather generous spank. Not to hurt her, but just enough to watch it jiggle. “Fuck….”

She cried out loud, arching her back. “Mr. Shelby!”

“Good girl, remembering her manners,” he complimented, landing a spank on her other ass cheek. When she tried to yelp and climb over the table in reaction, he whispered, “no, no, no, come back.” He hugged an arm around her waist and brought her back down, resting his face against the small of her back. “Okay, okay. We don’t have to do that no more, love.” He placed a small kiss against the small of her back lingering there. Kneeling before her, he gently spread her legs.

His lips felt cold against her most sensitive flesh. He kissed a trail down one cheek, each kiss got longer until he surprised her, taking her flesh between his teeth and pulling. “A-ah!” she stuttered out, trying to find something to grasp. He let go and landed a kiss on the burning patch of teeth marks. She managed to give him a look over her shoulders. “Mr. Shelby-”

“Mmmhm,” he said, half listening, turning his attention to the other cheek. That time kissing from the bottom up. By the third kiss, he licked up and gave a little nibble before placing the last kiss. She didn’t know what she wanted to say and therefore, closed her eyes and paid attention to all his little touches. He spread her open and smiled. “Virgin little ass. I bet you are so tight,” he said in thought. He moved a finger in, just lightly touching her in circles. 

“Never,” she whispered, unintentionally clenching in nerves.

“My favorite thing…stretching a tight ass,” he chuckled, watching her get worked up. “No, no, calm down.” He pressed down on her back to relax her. “Not today, or ever, if you don’t want to…I mean, I’d like to. Like to stretch this ass. I bet it’d feel so good wrapped around me.” John leaned over her, a ball of spit forming at his lips. It dropped over her hole and he rubbed it in, dipping his finger in just until the first knuckle.

“Mmmm,” she whined out in a muffle, tightening harder around him. It didn’t hurt so much as it felt different. 

“I know, I know,” he cooed, wiggling his finger a little. “I just need a tiny gape….A tiny, tiny gape.” John spit on her again, pushing his finger in to the second knuckle. Keeping it there, he allowed her to get used to the feeling. When she slowly eased, he rotated in very small, soft circles. “You take my fingers so well.” She hated to admit it felt weird but the good weird. Especially when he pressed on the side of her vagina. John could tell she was warming up from the way she attempted to grind herself against the table. And how she tried to be so discrete in hiding her little moans of pleasure. “You don’t have to feel ashamed about liking something,” he said. “It’s okay. Just enjoy yourself, hm?” He twisted his finger in and out until it moved with ease, and she was no longer pulling him in. When he let his finger slip out, there was a perfect gaping hole. Not big, but tiny and what he’d consider cute. 

John moved in real close, his warm breath tickling her. Poking his tongue out, he swiped up and just over her hole. Gasps and grunts of pleasure filled his ears over the simple motion of him dragging his tongue around until landing a kiss right over it. Her hand instinctively went to touch her clit, but John was quick to push it away and do the work. His forefinger and middle rubbed soft, but effective circles, allowing her to grind down on them. From how good she sounded, he imagined her face; eyes rolled back, mouth open. The sounds that came from her innocent mouth were so feral. It was so pathetic for her to admit that she’d never felt this good despite fucking before. John Shelby knew where to touch, what to do, what to say…. Her lower half was trembling, fighting to keep her posture. 

“Good girl,” he whispered, flicking his tongue in circles around the hole. It was a beautiful pattern, really. He’d circle it with his tongue a good few times; soft, easy, gently. Enjoying his fingers teasing her swollen clit as it clearly pulsed with the need to feel the edge. The poor girl was leaving a mess on the table. Had she even understood the gift she held? To drip so beautifully just by simple touches. 

“P-please,” she gasped, feeling an orgasm approach as she lost the ability to hold in what was then dripping down the table and on the floor. Only her, she had once thought, could allow herself to feel this good. How was she to go back to normal after this? See him on the street or in the shop, and not expect this…. How was this only to be an exception and not all the bloody fucking time. “I’m going to-fuck!” Her eyes rolled back as he took that as an initiative to rub her faster. 

But the pattern. Fucking hell, the pattern was artwork. The way he’d licking over in circles, flicking his tongue all around. That was the part he teased her with the most, knowing so well she anticipated more. Then finally, he’d dip his tongue in the furthest he could, twisting it around. Oh, how she tried to clench it, to keep it in like a cock, afraid he was going somewhere. But he was kind, keeping it there a little longer each time. He ended it with a kiss, moaning against her before starting it all over again. 

She felt her core shake as her body could hardly contain itself. Better than she could ever give herself, an orgasm ripped through her body. Not in slightest worried, she cried out a moan that surely others could hear. But he deserved that because of how good she felt. She rode it out, grinding her body simultaneously against his tongue and fingers, the last of her squirt dripping from her. “Fucking ‘ell,” she panted, collapsing against the table, trying to catch breath. 

He grinned arrogantly to himself before getting up and walking around the table. He crouched down and gently grabbed her face, smiling. “C’mere,” he said, giving her a soft kiss before standing. His hand tapped her cheek. “Thank you for that. I’ll grab the medicine on the way out…Shelby tab.” On the way out, he placed a gentle slap to her ass. “Have a good day, eh?”

[galedekarios]

one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.

not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.

he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:

Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:

Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer

[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player

he's crushed if the protag refuses:

Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it

this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.

if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:

Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it

tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WHY HER?

Another angst/fluffy oneshot required by one of you. I swear, the ones who are following me, most of you have a thing for angst :0 But it is okay my babies, as I am nothing different from you guys :) this will be a bit shorter than my usual oneshot lengths but hope it is just as enjoyable for you guys :)))

Warnings: Angst but don't worry my lovelies, there shall be comfort for this round. Reader is not main character in game.

Please note all artworks are credited to the artist @chimmyming on Twitter, please do go and support the artist! Click onto the pictures and there shall be a link on it that brings you straight to their artwork!

Rafayel

You sat at the beach, looking far out into the ocean as you waited for Rafayel. He had agreed to meet you today for a nice evening walk but it was VERY UNLIKE HIM to be late for any meetings with you. Furthermore, you had only came back from your business trip recently, and the last thing you had expected was for your lover to be late to this long-awaited meet up.

Taking out your phone, you decided to give your boyfriend a call. "Hello, Rafayel?" You spoke once the call was picked up. "Where are you mister?"

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the call caught you off guard. It was the voice you had heard Rafayel mentioned through his video calls with you for a couple of times. "Rafayel will be there in a bit." You heard a slither of your boyfriend's voice echoing in the background, shouting out something and the girl repeated his message. "He told you to---"

You hung up the call. Not even bothering for an apology nor an answer. Just hearing her voice made your blood boil. It does not help either when Rafayel would mention about her during your business trip. He would say, "Oh she helped me with the drawings today, as she said purple would fit better than orange." or "We went and got some paint today by the shop that was at the corner of the Bloom Street. She asked me to buy the conch shells too."

The recollection of him telling you all about their activities brought tears to your eyes, pulling your knees up to your chest and you stopped fighting the tears coming out of your eyes. When did she took your place? Helping him with his artworks? Accompanying him to buy painting materials and buying seashells together? That is, and has always been the activity reserved for you. But maybe, your absence made him feel empty inside.

Standing up, you dusted the sand off of your pants and decided to head home. Your phone had rung for a couple of times but it had fallen on deaf ears. Unlocking your phone and rejecting the call, you decided to block him. What happen to Lemurians only having one mate for the rest of their life? A question raised in your head, but it goes unanswered.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Loud music filled the entirety of the darkness of the bar. Your hand held onto a cocktail glass, swivelling the Long Island Iced Tea in it. But here is the catch, none of the contents in the glass contained anything that has to do with its name. But it is surely going to get you wasted in no time.

You took another hit, feeling the burn go down your throat when you downed the whole glass in one go. The laser lights, light bars below the bar table and holograms of women dancing being the only source of lighting found within the bar, a good way for you to hide away from anyone you know.

You just wanted to drown out your thoughts, but forgetting the point that you had never been the type to handle alcohol well. Hence earning the title of you being the teetotal in every party and event you attend with Rafayel. Speaking of the man, your eyes wandered down to your cocktail glass, the empty contents a direct reflection of your mind right now, empty.

When your mind started to get hazy further, you knew it was the right time to leave. You slowly maneuvered your way through the club till you were nearing the exit. A guy came in front of you to block your exit. "Where are you going, pretty lady? Do you need a ride home?"" His hand reached for your arm and you winced, his hold tight.

"Leave me alone. I am not interested." You pushed him with your hands and the guy barely budged. His tight grip on you still unfaltering. Instead, he started leading you out of the club, and into the alleyway.

"Bad girls don't deserve a good treatment. And seeing how wasted you are, I doubt you could stop me. So just be a good girl and take it." His words made you teared up, hand still coming up to push him with all of your might, sobs started surfacing from your breath.

"Help me!" You shouted out, head aching and eyes widening when you caught sight of the guy undoing his belt. He is planning to rape you isn't he?

"Nobody can hear you don't worry, so save your breath for me when I take you baby girl." He chuckled darkly but a spark caught your eye and the guy immediately got lit up in flames. Bright red colour lighting up the dark alleyway.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out to you, your sobs not stopping till someone grabbed you and you pushed with all of your drunken might, traumatised by how you were nearly raped by a stranger. The strong arms circled around your small body to pull you in close and your face hit against a taut chest. "Are you okay?!" And you passed out.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You woke up, eyes slowly fluttering opened and you winced at the throbbing of your head. Looking down at yourself, you realised your clothes had a change, you were wearing an oversized button up and you gasped, your memory piecing the fact that you almost got raped yesterday night. Thinking you were still entrapped in a stranger's home, you turned your head and you caught sight of your boyfriend fast asleep next to you.

His purple hair sat on his head like a bird’s nest, a vibrant colour against his white pillow and bed sheets. Feeling movement on the bed, you watched when he slowly opened his eyes, lapis-lilac shades caught yours. "Good morning..." He spoke groggily and slowly sat up, the blanket sliding down to reveal his chiselled abs. It was rare for him to not wear clothes to sleep.

"I should go..." You said quickly, eyes avoiding his when you pulled the blanket aside and you realised, you were half naked, the oversized shirt covering your naked upper half and you were only dressed in your underwear underneath the clothing. You probably had sex with him, you thought to yourself as tears came to your eyes again. That was the last thing you wanted to do as you did not want anything to do with him anymore. "This...this mistake... It won't happen again. I'm sorry for being an inconvenience."

"Wait..." Rafayel was shocked at your response, his face contorted in disbelief. "Y/N, wait..." He quickly got out of bed, butt naked and nimbly searched for his pants and putting them on, as he quickly chased after you. You were already putting on your shirt, his button up strewn across the floor. You being in a hurry to leave him made his heart ached. "No, y/n wait." His hand clasped your arms when you were heading towards the door with your phone in hand.

He turned you around and was met with your bare face, red painted across your nose and eyes. "Just leave me alone. I wish you all the best with her." A silent tear fell and you pushed his hand away. But he grabbed your arm again, reluctant to let you leave.

"Nothing happened." Rafayel's tone was calm. "Trust me. Nothing happened between me and her." His hand came up to your face to wipe the tear but you looked away, not wanting him to touch you any further. "She only helped me with this. Come..." Holding onto your arm still, he guided you towards the backyard. A canvas placed in the middle of the yard. "She was helping me to create this for you." He turned the easel to reveal an artwork, featuring you by the beach, on the shore with a mermaid tail. Your tail. The artwork had hints of purple in it and the seashells they had gotten previously.

Amazed at the artwork, you turned towards your lover, eyes still bloodshot. "This explains why you had been cutting our calls short and with her picking up the call yesterday and you being late for our date?" Your hesitant tone was evident.

He pointed to the pile of pot paints on the floor next to the painting. "I was in a hurry to create this piece since you were only out for your business trip for 4 days. I wanted it to be perfect so I took a longer time than usual. I was trying to clean up the mess before I go and find you." He held your other hand in his when you turned to fully face him. "I wanted to show you this yesterday." He sighed and looked down. "I am sorry that I hurt you, you nearly got hurt because of me. But, I will never choose anyone else other than my lifetime mate. I will not choose anyone over you." His eyes looked deeply into yours.

"Rafayel..." Your eyes softened when you looked up at your lover. "Thank you." You took a small pause and smiled warmly. "Thank you for always choosing me." And you hugged him.

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

Xavier

"Y/N," Your name was called when your boyfriend approaches your desk, handing you some documents for you to upload into the computer. "I will be going out for my mission soon, so I will see you back at home later?" His gentle voice made you smiled and nodded. He leaned down to give you a peck on your cheek when he realised nobody was watching and you watched as he walked off, the blond hair of his forming a halo under the radiant sunlight.

"So you are paired with Xavier again?" You heard a few girls squealed beside you and you just sat at your desk, continue inputting information into your computer, but you cannot help eavesdropping. "How lucky are you to be paired with him. How many times have you been paired with him for combat?"

"Oh, uhm....Almost everytime I think." The brunette replied, her hair tied in a low ponytail. None of the people in the headquarters know of the fact that both of you are actually in a relationship as there was no need for anyone to know about your private lives. And staying undercover just makes things less complicated when it comes to work.

"But, do you think he would make a move on you?" The short haired brunette asked and Xavier's combat partner shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, a sign of not sure but there is a possibility of it happening as well.

"He did kind of brushed my hair out of my face and patted my head yesterday." Her response stopped you from typing any further as you felt your blood drained from your system. The girl-friend however, cheers and squeals for her friend's answer. You stood up, adjusting your outfit before you headed off to the washroom to take a break.

Washing your hands, you stare blankly at the mirror, studying your own reflection. Why would Xavier do this to you? You knew that your combat skills are non-existent, so that's why you kept yourself occupied with the information department, filing in documents for the deepspace hunters. They are more like the hands and feet while your department acts like the brain, collecting and providing information.

Maybe he likes girls with combat skills. Your mind jumped to that conclusion and you were snapped back to reality when the door opened up and you turned off the faucet, stepping past the same girl that was bragging about being close with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend no doubt is one of the popular males among the whole headquarters but all this while he had never made you worried. But why does her words affect you so greatly?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After work had ended, you took your time to walk instead of taking the subway, wanting to give yourself some time to walk after you had spent the whole day sitting in the office. You walked past a grocery store and remembered that you are running low on food at home so you decided to head into the grocery store to pick up some items.

Staring at the snacks isle, you were debating on whether to get popcorn or potato chips, since Xavier would like to munch on them whenever he is bored at home. So without much thought you just get both of it. You paid at the counter and held onto the plastic bags, resuming your walk back home.

Walking the streets during the evening is a sight to catch. The skies displaying orange and yellow, dashes of pink over the linings of the cloud that hung high above. It looks like a light show in the skies, but only that it is a natural phenomenon. Taking out your phone, you took a snapshot of the skies and checked the result. A frown coming upon your face when you know that cameras would never be able to fully capture nature’s beauty.

You turned a corner and you came across the sight of your boyfriend standing outside of the claw machine store that you would visit with him sometimes. Your eyes lit up, wanting to go up to him but you stopped in your tracks when you saw his combat partner appeared from the stores, her grin tugged from ear to ear, and her face clearly blushing.

Your hands tightened on your grocery bags when you noticed your boyfriend, who has his back facing you looking down at the girl. Oh, how you wished you could eavesdrop on their conversation right now. You would have wanted to know desperately what their conversation is about. A part of you is telling you to straight walk up there to claim your man while the other part of you is held back, heart heavy as you watched the girl's face lit up when she was conversing with your boyfriend.

And that was when you noticed she tip toed to lean up towards your boyfriend. That's it. You had seen enough. You turned away, and stomped the other way. Tears caught you off guard when you decided it is the best for you to step away. You do not want to cause a scene in the middle of the streets.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Finally found you." A voice broke the whispers of the wind. You stayed silent when you heard shuffling, someone taking a seat next to you. "Why are you out here, in the cold?"

You refused to face your boyfriend, eyes narrowed, lashes combatting against the cold harsh wind. Another shuffle could be heard again and you felt his hands on your shoulders, a heavy material wrapped over your shoulder. It was cold, but it could be a good excuse; to hide the actual fact of what caused your nose and eyes to take on a reddish colour. "Can you give me some time alone?"

"Why?" He asked, the puppy eyes he is known for stapled on his face when he tilted his head, trying to get a better look at your face. "Have you been crying?" His question made you turned your head to face him, cheeks still pressed against your knee.

"No." You blatantly lied and avoided his gaze again. "I don't have anything to talk to you about. You can go home first and wait for me at home."

"Are you sure?" His concern made you hid your face further into your knees and you nodded. Your reluctance to meet his eyes already confirmed his suspicion of something happening. So he asked further. "Were you happening to be watching me just now? When I was at the claw machine store?" Your silence gave him a sense of comfort. "So my senses are not wrong. That was you peeking out of the corner just now. And let me guess, you saw me with the hunter didn't you?"

How did he knew? You swear he probably has eyes on the back of his head. That thought sent a shiver down your spine. You adjusted your seating and he sat closer to you. "And...you probably saw how she wanted to kiss me, with her on her tip toes." It was crazy on how accurate he was on this.

He unwrapped your arms around your knees and slowly pulled you into his side, placing his arms around you and letting your head lay on his shoulder. Xavier's scent enveloped you, talcum powder and vanilla. There is no need for him to use any sorts of perfume when he himself is a walking perfume that nobody could remake. That is how he always smelled like and a part of you wondered if she managed to smell it from him as well.

"I would have teased you further, and enjoy the way you would have reacted when you are jealous. But," His hands smoothed over your hair, tucking some strands behind your ear gently. "I pushed her away before she could even come close enough. I even told her about us." You looked up at him, his cerulean orbs now light grey under the stars. "I don't think it would be a good idea to hide our relationship anymore." His free hand came up to rub his chin. "Because I want people to know that you are the only one that I want."

"What about your missions with her? She was bragging about you patting her head and tucking her hair." You asked frantically, thinking he might still end up spending time with her.

"I had contacted the captain about this and requested for a change of partners. This time, it will be a HE and no, he is not GAY." He smiled, finger tucked under your chin to pull your face up to meet his lingering gaze. His soft laughter rolling out of his mouth. “Moreover, I never touched her, not even once, she needs to get her head checked out. Whenever she falls during combat, I just stood aside and watch.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cold cheeks, in an attempt to warm them with his lips. “After we reveal our relationship in the office, you don't have to worry anymore, because no matter what happens, I will protect you to the ends of this world."

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

Zayne

<I will be home late tonight. I have to cover two emergency shifts. I will call you at 10P.M. before you head off to bed. I have a gap in between.>

Your phone beeped when you were nearly done at work. You read the message, knowing that he has to work late again for tonight, same as yesterday, the day before, and practically 4 days before. But, you cannot blame him for being one of best cardiac surgeons in Linkon City. It should be something you are proud of.

But it does not help when you went to pay him a short visit two days ago, his door does not open even after you had knocked twice on the wooden door. His usual patient, the deepspace hunter, came out of his room, face as red as a tomato. Your eyes followed her as she walked down the hallway and you made your step into your lover's room.

Zayne was near the bed, readjusting his shirt and coat. He did not realise you had walked in until you cleared your throat. "You are here." He said calmly, turning over to face you, his tie a little bit crooked. "I thought you were going to wait for me downstairs."

The deepspace hunter's red face, and him readjusting his shirt, anyone with two sense of mind could easily tell what had just went on in the room. "I just wanted to stop by your office as well." You replied, taking a seat on the couch in his office. "So, what did you do with the girl?"

"You mean the deepspace hunter?" He questioned, taking long strides to close the door. He did not seemed like he was anxious nor scared of your question. Probably a mask to his own guilt, you thought to yourself.

"Yeah, your childhood best friend." You clicked your tongue, arms crossed over your chest. "She seemed flustered when she left your office just now."

"I just conducted a normal check up on her, as usual." He said, dismissing your question easily. He reached his hand out to you, beckoning you to take his hand. "Let's go and get dinner together."

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙

Your hesitation of his loyalty to you was one of the things that kept on bugging your mind, other than your work of course. You looked at the amount of work you have on your desk and started arranging it. Doing whatever you can now to keep your mind busy. What does that deepspace hunter have that you do not have?

A fleeting childhood with Zayne maybe? There have been theories that men would fall for their childhood friends due to the familiarity they have and how comfortable they could get with their childhood buddies. But this theory sucks. You tell yourself and stacked the files neatly and placed them at the shelves behind you.

You are just as capable as Zayne, but just in a different field. You are known to be one of the best lawyers in Linkon City. A highly respected one in fact. When news of you and Zayne went out, people claimed it was meant to be because both of you are aces within your own field and that you are both compatible to one another.

But what if he wanted someone more normal? Someone who would not constantly be under the watchful eye of the common public? The voice came about again. Almost every month, both of you would have your own array of social meets, and both of you making time to acquaint one another to those social events. Every single move, every single action you and Zayne do, it would be booming news. Maybe he is tired of us constantly being under the spotlight.

Mighty or not, you could be the best within your field, but you could also have equally damaging insecurities. This is the exact moment that you start crushing your own walls, walls of confidence that you had taken years to build up, to earn for respect from others. And perhaps, to earn Zayne's love.

<Okay.> You texted back and tossed your phone into your bag. Grabbing your car keys on your way out of your office. You locked your room on the way out and you were shocked to see some of your interns are still working in their cubicles. "Guys, I think you should all take a rest. How about we head to the coffee shop downstairs to have a drink hmm?"

Your interns' eyes lit up at your offer and they quickly gathered their stuffs before following you out of the office like a bunch of ducklings. On the elevator ride, you asked them of their work progresses and whether they needed any additional help with their current tasks. Your interns however, were more than surprised that you are willing to communicate with them.

Their first take on your image is that you are professional and strict. A woman of high standards and it was a common theme for people to link your working attitude to you being arrogant and ignorant. You had never once fell back on any datelines and your clients always leave your room satisfied, regardless of the outcome of the court case. You are on a whole other league as compared to anyone else within your department.

All of you decided to choose the seat outside because of the cooling night wind. It serves to refresh everyone, to step out of the tight cubicles for a bit and having to stretch comfortably. You sat next to two of the female interns, with them asking you about brands that you could recommend them to buy formal outfits. It was nice to see how fast the interns had opened up to you once they found out that you are not as scary as what was portrayed by others.

Your eyes caught sight of a black car pulling up just a few shops down the street. Not many people within the city owns that car, especially the black version. And one of those 'lucky few' happens to be your boyfriend as well. Your eyes slightly widened when you noticed the familiar figure coming out of the car.

His hair the colour of his full outfit, with a lanky but muscular build. The man standing next to the limited edition car is no doubt your boyfriend, Zayne. The sounds of your interns talking around you had turned into a constant white noise. Your eyes watched carefully, thank goodness the spot he had parked at was right below a street lamp.

The passenger side of the door opened, and out came the same girl. The one that you had suspicions about. At that exact moment, you felt your walls started breaking. Your eyes continued watching, your heart strapped in the back seat, limbs unable to move when you sat there in shock. The girl went up and gave Zayne a hug, you can tell that it was a tight hug, based on the way she literally planted her face into Zayne's torso. The sight of it made your heart crumbled and you stood up, your chair creaking against the cement pathway. Your interns stopped abruptly and turned to look at you in sync.

Clearing your throat, you held back tears as you spoke. "I remembered I have something to tend to, I have to get going." You bid them goodnight and you turned immediately, car keys dug out of your bag and you rushed to get into your car before you drove off quickly.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙

The clock at your bedside table flashed 9.55pm. It was a good idea to head off to bed earlier than usual. Although Zayne said that he would call you at 10pm, you had made your decision not to pick up. Telling him that you were too exhausted and fell asleep sounded like a viable excuse.

You closed your eyes and lulled yourself to sleep, used to the other side of your bed being empty for the past few nights. After a while, you heard your room door opened, the slither of light from the living room seeping in.

Zayne was home early. You assumed he would have went back to the hospital after dropping her off. Your back was facing him so he would not be able to tell that you were upset. But your plan was short lived when his shadow loomed over you.

"Y/N." His voice soft, and you heard a thud, the warmth of a hand on your face. "My love." He called for you again, running his big palms across your cheeks, him noticing that there were some tear streaks. "Are you awake?"

Your eyes then opened, and you are face-to-face with your handsome boyfriend, his hazel green orbs fixated on your face. "I thought you were at work." You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes and feigning a yawn, as if you had just woken up. Your heart felt heavy, and before you could stop yourself, your mouth blurted out. "Am I not good enough?"

Zayne was clearly taken aback, turning on the switch to the lamp on your nightstand, the soft glow of the light bouncing off of your silhouette, your white satin night dress a sheen of orange. "Why would you think so?" His hand comes up, touching your arm but you flinched away. "Y/N, what's going on?"

"You know what, it's nothing." Your hands came up to hide your face from him, desperately trying to hold back your tears. Zayne has never seen you cry many times, only when you were drunk and watching some sad rom-coms or when work gets too stressful and you were pushed too hard. Yes, a strong woman like you have her own small, vulnerable moments too. And Zayne, acknowledges all of it. To him, he never treats your crying moments as to be small matters. When you cry, it is a natural human emotion yes, but it is not normal within your books, for you to cry over something miniscule.

"Y/n, you are sad. And being sad is---" He stopped himself before he continued spitting out medical facts. Knowing at this moment if he were to do that, he would not be doing her a favour in consoling her. "You had always been strong in my eyes. So, what is going on through your head? Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Is the deepspace hunter better than me?" You sniffled, face still covered, your voice slightly muffled. "I saw you...today...with her...near my office...you hugged her." You choked out your words, accompanied with tears and snot. This will mark one of the first times Zayne would witness you cry like an adult baby. But you could care less as you anticipate for the heart break.

"No." He replied. "I did not hug her back. She hugged me and I pulled away after 2 seconds. She was thanking me for saving her life. And she will no longer need to come for checkups again in the future." He clarified and sat on the bed beside her and he slowly peeled her hands away from her face. "I fetched her back, because she had had her surgery a day ago, and she could not get a cab on time during her discharge timing. So I offered a ride for her, and thought maybe I could surprise you at your office. But your interns told me you left in a hurry so I came home."

"What about your surgery that was scheduled for tonight?" You asked.

"I cancelled them and rescheduled them to tomorrow. I just wanted to come home and spend time with you." He placed a kiss onto your forehead, calming your sobs. "You don't look happy for the past few days. Perhaps you want to enlighten me on anything else I had done that could have made you so upset?"

"What about that day, when she left your office, did you guys do something? She looked embarassed, and when I came in, you were adjusting your clothings. And the way you just dismissed me, it hurts me." Your eyes looked exhausted to him, with you patiently waiting for him to explain the situation to you.

Zayne took a few seconds to recall. "I was doing last minute checkups for her, before her surgery. But when she tried to stand, she nearly fell and she grabbed onto my tie for support but still ended up on the floor, which explains why I had to readjust my clothing. She was probably embarrassed at the situation, which explains the red face." He added on. "Her condition got worse after our dinner, that was why I had to rush back to do the surgery immediately."

His explanation gave you nothing but a rush of relief through your heart. "I see." You said, wiping your tears and Zayne took the opportunity to pull you into his arms, seated on his lap and your chest against his. "I am sorry for being so ridiculous."

"I don't see any issues with that. You care for me, that is why you feel this way. And with you crying over this, it means it matters a lot to you." He hugged you and you relaxed in his arms. "I don't blame you for getting upset over this as it is equally my fault for making you doubt my loyalty. But I treat that deepspace hunter just like how I would treat every other patient of mine." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips soft and tender. "Just know that even when I am very busy, I will always make time for you."

✧○ꊞ○ꊞ○ꊞ○✧

I KNOW I LIED AGAIN, MY MIND JUST STARTED BEING IN OVERDRIVE BECAUSE CREATIVITY WAS FLOWING SO I WROTE IT LONGER AND LONGER AND ENDED UP WITH THIS. I AM SORRY!

But hope this read is just as good as the others!

Lots of Love! <3

[nostalgebraist]

Seeing a lot of python hate on the dash today... fight me guys. I love python. I am a smoothbrained python enjoyer and I will not apologize for it

Python has multiple noteworthy virtues, but the most important one is that you can accomplish stuff extremely fast in it if you know what you are doing.

This property is invaluable when you're doing anything that resembles science, because

Most of the things you do are just not gonna work out, and you don't want to waste any time "designing" them "correctly." You can always go back later and give that kind of treatment to the rare idea that actually deserves it.

Many of your problems will be downstream from the limitations in how well you can "see" things (high-dimensional datasets, etc.) that humans aren't naturally equipped to engage with. You will be asking lots and lots of weirdly shaped, one-off questions, all the time, and the faster they get answered the better. Ideally you should be able to get into a flow state where you barely remember that you're technically "coding" on a "computer" -- you feel like you're just looking at something, from an angle of your choice, and then another.

You will not completely understand the domain/problem you're working on, at the outset. Any model you express of it, in code, will be a snapshot of a bad, incomplete mental model you'll eventually grow to hate, unless you're able to (cheaply) discard it and move on. These things should be fast to write, fast to modify, and not overburdened by doctrinaire formal baggage or a scale-insensitive need to chase down tiny performance gains. You can afford to wait 5 seconds occasionally if it'll save you hours or days every time your mental map of reality shifts.

The flipside of this is that it is also extremely (and infamously) easy to be a bad python programmer.

In python doing the obvious thing usually just works, which means you can get away with not knowing why it works and usually make it through OK. Yes, this is cringe or whatever, fine. But by the same token, if you do know what the right thing to do is, that thing is probably very concise and pretty-looking and transparent, because someone explicitly thought to design things that way. What helps (or enables) script kiddies can also be valuable to power users; it's not like there's some fundamental reason the interests of these two groups cannot ever align.

[literallypyro]

Good day my fellow tf2 enjoyer! Looks like im back again with another request. 👀🌈

Mercs reacting to "would you still love me if i was a worm?" 🥺❤️‍🔥

You are free to ignore me, but thank you again for indulging in my shenanigans 🫶

You have no idea how equipped I am to answer this request. I am not joking when I say I know exactly what to do. So sorry for the wait!

Hope you enjoy

The early bird gets the worm

Scout:

-Absolutely no hesitation "yeah, sure, why not?"

-It's like you asked him if he wanted to go to McDonald's. You could think he wasn't listening to you

-But then if you ask him what you said, he recites it word for word

-Pop quiz nobody knew he was prepared for

Soldier:

-You're kidding, right? The only thing that could make him not love you is if you were a communist

-Bro doesn't give a singular fuck outside of that. You could turn into a lamp for all he cares, and he'd lug you around wherever he goes

-He honestly doesn't give it much thought either. Some things are just simple facts. The sky is blue, snow is cold, honey bees pollinate, and he loves you. That's just how the world works

Pyro:

-Stares at you for a long moment. They're completely unreadable for a moment

-Muffled speech that sounds vaguely like "you're not going to start eating dirt, are you?"

-Yes, they would still love you, but they're mildly concerned now, believe it or not. Do you want to be a worm? What's going on here?

Demoman:

-Doesn't even process what you said at first. It's not that he doesn't understand or is too drunk. It's just that your question came WAYYYY out of left feild

-"Uh? Probably? I mean, you're still you, even if you can't show it, right?"

-Probably lies awake at night, wondering wtf possessed you to ask that

Heavy:

-Sandvich eating has been paused. He just kinda stops working for a second

-The look on your face tells him it was a genuine question, so he just sets his bewilderment aside and says yes

-He's not really sure why you asked that question, but something in his could sense it would affect your self-esteem in some way, and he'd rather die than hurt your feelings

Engineer:

-He actually knows what this is about, surprisingly. Bro's got more PhDs than most people have digits in their bank account. Did you really think how wouldn't immediately guess?

-He just hugs you like "I love you for who you are on the inside. I couldn't care less what you look like"

-Yeah, you're getting pampered for the rest of the day. He's not gonna let you be insecure. He's gonna do everything he can to make sure you love yourself as much as he loves you

Medic:

-Psych evaluation immediately (hypocrite)

-Once it finally clicks, he looks at you with an expression somewhere between pity and empathy. Now you simply have to tell him who made you think he wouldn't

-The next day, he's showing you these cool new organs that definitely don't belong to the last person who made you feel like you didn't deserve everything good

Sniper:

-Immediate and not ironic "yes." That's it. He knows what's going on cuz lowkey he would've asked the same thing if he didn't think he'd sound dumb

-Might not be super expressive, but you can tell he really cares and knows exactly how you feel. That's a big thing about being in a relationship with him, silent understanding

-He probably wakes up a little earlier than usual to make you a nice breakfast you haven't had in a while. He knows it's not directly related, but he wants to show you he values you so so so much

Spy:

-Doesn't understand whatsoever and refuses to answer

-Engie tells him what's up and suddenly Spy feels like a complete and total dipshit. He doesn't go find you immediately, however

-He waits because he has to set something up. A nice little private dinner for the two of you, fine wine, and an apology cheesier than France in the middle ages

[ambrosiagoldfish]

i’m going a teensy bit feral reading your adam x third spouse story so i guess im just asking for part five and for it to hopefully have focus on dad beat dad and how lucifer would react to seeing the reader again after so long and like what would happen n stuff 🤭🤭 ofc if this is dumb ignore it i like what you’re doing with the story already !! the part im most excited for is the finale tbh but there’s a lot of time in between what you have rn and then so i’m just yapping abt stuff that could be cool in between. thsi is so jumbled omg sorry i just wanna see more of your writing it’s so good

idk how to end this uhh i love you bye 🫡

Benefit of the doubt PT.5

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: GN! Reader, confronting the past, next to no Adam (I know, sad, but it’s for the plot), Reader focused chapter, this is set during ‘Dad Beat Dad’, swearing, the next 2 chapters will have a LOT more Adam DW ❤️❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Request Box: OPEN

Word count: 4322

A/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support on all the other chapters. It’s been 8-ish months since the last update and for that I want to apologize. I’ll save it for its own dedicated post to not full int his page too much. But if you’ve saw one of my post from the other day, I have posted this on A03 and I’m giving myself 8 total parts. 7 will be the finale and 8 will be an epilogue styled thing (not even sure if I’m wanting to do it so when we get there, you guys can tell me if you want it!! ) so yeah, enough rambling, you’ve all been waiting so long for the next part so here you go!! <3

Reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(My posts have been flopping so much, I would love you forever if you did 😭)

Old memories have a habit of slithering their way back into a person's mind, and even sometimes, people

The first few months at fhe hotel were a lot more enjoyable than you originally expected. Most days went relatively the same, Charlie would choose an activity to do and you would observe the progress they made.

At first, progress hadn't shown much promise but as everyone grew closer, things began to look up. Angel had gone clean with his drug abuse and was distancing himself from his line of work. Sir Pentious started to actually trust the people around him and has done no major constructional damage to any buildings as of late.

Everything was going so smoothly that, when you had woken up one morning to the sounds of screaming, running, and just general chaos. You thought everything was finaly going into the ground.

You quickly run down to the lobby, thoughts of what could be happening run through you. Did one of Pentious experiments fail and explode? Were we being attacked by one of the many gangs in town? Did Alastor decide the hotel was actually boring and started destroying it, starting with the occupants? Whatever it was, you hurry faster to the lobby.

But what was meeting you there was… unexpected to say the least. Party streamers, banners, cookies. It looked like some kind of welcome party heaven would do, albeit with less flare and taste in decor. A banner that read ‘Wellcum Daddy’ was being hung up by Razzle and Dazzle, everyone was either cleaning or baking something, and Vaggie seemed to be ordering them around.

You look at the clock, huh, it’s way too early for any kind of Charlie’s trust exercises. Not to mention, she would have told you about the curriculum and there was absolutely not a 10 AM home-EC class listed on your schedule.

You quickly run up to Charlie who seemed to be preoccupied with helping Vaggie put something up “Charlie, what’s going on?” You tap on her shoulder, She jumps a bit before just realizing it’s you,

”Oh- Y/N, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to get you!” She apologizes when Vaggie pops in,

“Don’t be, I told Nifty to go wake you up, but looks like she had better things to do” she points over at Niffty swifty stabbing bugs and removing cobwebs out of habit

“It’s fine, just… what’s everyone doing, what’s with all the party supplies and sweets?” You say, arms to the festive lobby around you.

“Oh well…” she took a deep breath “you know that The deadline is fast approaching and while we’ve made progress it’s not much” she paused, trying to even brace herself for what’s coming out of her mouth, “I have asked… my dad to come over and hopefully get us a meeting with heaven” she stops, completely caved in on herself.

“Wait, so… your dad is coming here?” you thought about the times she had asked you to get them a meeting with heaven but you had already explained to her that it would be next to impossible for someone like you. You had to practically beg just to monitor the hotel

Charlie Picked herself back up and looked at you with a shakey demeanor, “Yeah In about… 55 minutes”

You blink a few times before giving a small chuckle “Well, would you look at the date! I think it’s time I used my 1-per-month trip back home! If you’ll excuse me-“

“Wait! No-“ she trips over herself “We need you here, if dad can see, not only the progress we’ve made, but also that we already have an angel supporter, there’s no way he could say no!”

“Charlie, I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“PleasePleasePlease! I will pay you back, promise! But I- we could really use you there!” Her eyes looked at you, similar to a puppy. She hands clasped together In plea.

You looked away in thought. Seeing him again was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment, any moment for that matter. The last time…well to be honest, the whole exchange hadn’t meant anything to you in quite a while. He could say whatever he wanted about you… it was the words he had to say about Adam that kept your heart ablaze in anger at the Morningstar.

Trash? He should really look in the mirror before saying that about your Adam. But… this could be a good opportunity for the hotel -as much as it pained you to admit- You can only sigh, “fine.. for the hotel…” You let out a small chuckle raising your arm in defeat.

Charlie jumped up and down with glee, repeating a matra of ‘Thank You’s’ before continuing “I get it might be difficult since you’re an Angel.” She tries to give some comfort. But that caught your attention.

“Because I’m an Angel?” You honestly didn’t mean to say it out loud but it came out as a question.

She looks at you confused “yeah, you know, considering I don’t think angels have too kind of thoughts to my dad for being… the devil” she laughs nervously

Oh. Oh. So that’s what she means. So she doesn’t know about your past with him? Not too much a surprise, I doubt Lucifer would bring up any of his failures. But that also made you realize one other thing. Charlie doesn’t know about your marriage with Adam.

Look, you didn’t mean to keep it a secret. In fact you had already assumed they knew. I mean you were sitting literally right next to him and Vaggie already knew who you were. You just thought she would have told Charlie, but knowing this now… it may be best to keep it a secret.

You let out a quick “I understand.” and with that, you all went your separate ways, you did contribute to the decor the best you could, as well as helping Sir Pentious and Nifty with the baking until finally, it was time for Charlie’s dad to arrive.

You walked over to a more remote place in the hotel lobby, look… you may have to interact with him today but you will not be doing it that soon. Instead, you decided your best choice of action was to sit and watch quietly until Charlie decided it was time for you two to meet. And in the meantime, you can mentally brace yourself.

Charlie sighs deeply “Okay everybody, it’s showtime!”

With that she swings the door open revealing the one, the only (thank Father) king of hell himself, Lucifer. Immediately Lucifer pulls his, obviously nervous daughter into his arms. He greets her with excitement before moving on to Keekee, and eventually Razzle and Dazzle.

He eyes the room, clearly covering up any distain for the hotels “character” to protect Charlie’s feelings. At least until he got to the bar which even he couldn’t lie his way through.

Even from the distant view you were from, you could see Alastor and Lucifer weren't going to be the best of buds anytime soon. As soon as they were introduced to one another they immediately got into it. Huh, at least now you have something in common with Alastor at least! If that’s even a good thing.

Their quarrel lasted a few minutes, everyone either waiting for it to be over, completely ignoring it, or enjoying it as entertainment. It lasted what felt like an eternity and was only interrupted when a short and plump woman by the name of ‘Mimzy’ came into the scene.

The old time-y dressed woman was one of Alastor’s friends, you honestly didn’t think he had those but you digress. Eventually once the commotion dies down, you see Charlie give you a nervous smile and wave for you, ‘that’s my cue’ you thought. Anxiety still felt taught in your heart but still you pushed through.

You walk out of your hiding spot, walking up to be next to Charlie. Still trying to keep your presence hidden for as long as you could, savoring those last few moments of peace before a wave of interactions.

Charlie clears her throat and puts on a more professional demeanor despite her nervousness, getting the attention from her dad, “And last but certainly not least, i’d like you to meet our Angelic sponsor-“

“Y/N!?-“ the fallen Angel suddenly started coughing, clearly having choked on his own words. He clears his throat “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting… you to be here” he lets out a chuckle.

“You guys know each other!?” Charlie looked shocked, her voice pitching up in bewilderment.

“We’ve… met before,.” Your voice was low, But still you pushed through “Though, it’s hardly relevant to anything of importance now. Isn’t that right, Morningstar?”

Lucifer's face contorted into an uncomfortable shaky smile, fingertips digging into his Apple-shaped cane. Perhaps he felt some type of remorse for the way things happened back all those years ago, but even if that’s true, you had no plans to forgive him.

He clears his throat “Yes it’s- unimportant Sweetie.. “

You 3 stand in awkward silence for a moment, all you can do is glare daggers at the short ex-Angel in front of you. Eventually though, you couldn’t stand the scilence any longer, “Well Charlie, I have to get something done in my room and I’ll be back to help with the tour in a few minutes, if that’s ok?”

Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, for you to stay with her through the tour, but she knew you wouldn’t just leave and not come back. “Um, yeah that’s fine! Me and Alastor can get the tour started and you can meet us around the 4th floor?”

You gave a quick nod as agreement and make your way to your room. Sighing, you flop down on your bed, feeling the soft warmth as you sink into comfort. Pulling out your phone, you quickly typing a text to Adam but your thumb simply hovered over the send button, anxiety washing over you. Your message was simple,

‘I promise that everything’s ok, but he’s here’’

You were hesitating, should you even tell him that he's here? You didn’t want to worry him over something so insignificant. He has a show tonight, he wouldn’t be at his best if he was constantly thinking you would be in the same room as the devil.

Or even worse, he could just cancel the show completely and march down here and a cause a ruckus which at best would completely destroy the Hotel’s plans and at worse… No, you can’t think of that.

You look at the message again before just setting your phone on your nightstand. 10 minutes… that’s all you need before you go back out there…

…Lucifer was having… let’s just say a tinsy bit of a bad day. Not only has he been forced to interact with that insufferable yellow-toothed sinner but also, he has been reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in a millenia, you.

The anxiety of the day was only topped off with the added stress of being with his daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he LOVES his daughter and is always happy to see her, but the way she talks and acts with these sinners… Ugh, it reminds him too much of himself back in the day.

Her hotel too… He may have given her the place but he never gave it much thought beyond it being a pipe dream for her. He was just trying to do something for his daughter, especially with… Lilith being out of the picture. He just wanted to cheer her up, and unfortunately it seems ‘grandiose plans’ run in the family.

Even now as Charlie and that Red haired Buck show him around, Charlie explains excitedly about different things they have at the hotel. It reminds Lucifer about how she was when she was little, that glow of joy never seemed to fade away from her despite the conditions she lives in.

But even still, as much as he’s trying not to zone out and actually listen to his daughters rambles, his mind keeps trailing back to one, singular thought. You.

What were you doing here? He knows you were there to ‘support the hotel’ as Charlie puts it. But this is the absolute first he’s hearing about it. Why wouldn’t heaven tell him that another Angel was down here, let alone, you most of all. The last time he saw you was… not the best first meeting

Were you here in secret? You clearly weren't fallen, considering you still had your halo and you didn’t look like you’ve been damaged anywhere close to what you’d be if you had fallen. Not to mention… Adam, the exterminations were his idea so why would you even consider an alternative when you are his-

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie interrupted Lucifer’s thoughts, a look of worry on her face. ”You’ve got a little bit of… horn? Sticking out”

Lucifer looks up and sees that he’s subconsciously beginning to phase into his full demon form. He quickly takes his hand and pats the horns as if he was just dusting off his coat, causing the horns to seem to fade away like dust. Wow, today really seems to be getting to him.

“Ah sorry Sweetie, it’s nothing just… uh..” He thinks for a moment, he has to talk to you alone, just for a second. “*Ahem* I was just realizing I had to… use the bathroom, I seem to have had one too many drinks on the way here. Can you tell me where the… bathroom is?” He lets out a chuckle to hopefully cover his lie.

“Oh, it’s just down the hall and to the right, I can take you there-“

Lucifer quickly lets out a loud ”No!“ Before clearing his through again “I can get there on my own, just wait here and I’ll be back!”

Before Charlie can even answer, Lucifer rushes through the halls of the hotel, yelling a ‘I’ll be back soon’ to his Daughter before turning the corner. He lets out a deep breath as he lays out the plan in his head. Figure out why you’re here, and get back to Charlie as fast as inhumanly possible.

Picking his feet up again, he makes his way to the lobby of the hotel, he looks around for a moment before spotting the check in desk. ‘They usually keep visitor information there, right?’

He quickly scours the desk, looking for any forms or documents that have your room number, before finally setting his eyes on your room number. It didn’t take long to find you seeing as there were such few occupants in the hotel.

He memorized your room and repeated it to himself while walking to your door. Past the first, 2nd, then finally, halfway through the hallway on the 3rd floor he finds it. Before he can knock, a sudden wave of worry floods his senses. Seriously, Why would he hesitate now?!

He shuffled around nervously, starting to doubt this little mission of his. Should he really be doing this? Is he really worried about you being here or is the real reason he came here because he wanted to… apologize to you? It’s true that the guilt of what happened all those years ago was still there. But… Digging up old memories just because he’s selfish and wants to apologize to you? He takes a deep breath.

He had to make things better or… at least get some things off his chest. So, with a heavy fist and an even heavier heart, he gently knocks on the hard wooden door…

This had been the longest 10 minutes of your life, trying to decide wether to send Adam the message, or to even return to tour with Charlie at all. As much as it pains you to say, you still become anxiety ridden when he’s in the room or even the mere mention of him. That spark of defiance you had in the lobby earlier being nothing but a small bit of courage. But you remembered that you had promised Charlie you’d be there for her, and you certainly weren’t one to take back a promise.

Before you could decide what to do, you hear an ever so faint knock on your door. Curiosity peaked, You thought Charlie was supposed to be waiting for you on the 4th floor? Had you taken too long and the tour went south? You quickly made your way to the door and hoped you wouldn’t see a very angry Charlie on the other side.

As the wooden-door creaked open, your face slowly turned bitter at The short, impish man who stood on the other side. Lucifer Morningstar. To be honest, you much would have preferred the angry Charlie, TWO very angry Charlies over this.

The man shuffled awkwardly in place, gripping his cane. Neither of you could break the silence . He avoided any eye-contact with you and even you couldn’t hide The disgusted expression on your face when looking at him. Finally after what feels like 3x the eternity you’ve lived thus far, you spoke In shaky words, ”What do you want?”

Lucifer pushed out his words as well as he could, meek they were, but you understood what he said “Can we please…talk?”

Your fingers gripped at the door, nails embedding into the wood, leaving scratches. It took all you had not to slam the door right in his face, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have solved any pressing issues. If anything, it might make him against Charlie’s idea with the hotel, which you couldn’t afford. You take a deep breath before letting out a quick but unsavory,

“5 minutes”

The short demon shuffles his way into the room as you follow in behind him, locking the door to prevent someone like Nifty or Charlie from walking in. Lucifer stands timidly by your nightstand as you stand on the complete opposite side of the room, facing him. Lucifer runs his neck as he lets out a shaky sigh “I just want to know what you’re doing here…” he pauses, he looks like he has more to say but decided not to.

You can only laugh to yourself “I’m here because I believe I think Charlie’s idea has potential to be great. The exterminations, they have to end… that’s why I’m here”

Lucifer seem a bit… surprised? Surprised with your stance on the exterminations. you figured he needed more than that so you continue “I… I’ve never been one for the exterminations. I've been against them from the start. I just didn't know what else to do. Nothing else seemed…right.“

He stayed silent, processing what you told him. He really didn’t understand you, he had a completely warped view of you. “If that’s all you wanted to know I’d rather you take your leave-“

“No!” You step back at the sudden raise in voice but he quickly clears his throat “No, there’s another thing. I would… I’d like to apologize to you about how things went… when we first met.”

You stared at him, the silence once again feeling the air. You didn’t dare break it, you watched as the impish man looked around with anxiety, trying to find the right words. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind. How we- I, treated you. It was unacceptable… Lilith kept telling me to let it go, that she was done thinking about it, but I just couldn’t.” He takes a deep breath “so, I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/n…”

Lucifer Morningstar. The man in front of you looked more akin to a puddle than a person at this point. Sweat dripped from his face, a scrunched mouth filled with a sour taste. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing his attention to the ground. Finally, after many long seconds later. You step forward, grabbing his attention.

“As much as I appreciate the apology, I don’t forgive you.” Lucifer began to speak or at least say he understood but no matter what his reaction was going to be, you interrupted him ‘“-I don’t forgive you, because I’m not the one who deserves it”

To that, Lucifer's head was struck with confusion, “what do you mean?” He tried to make sense of your words, shifting eyes looking around in unease before landing on a framed photo of a candlelit man, an old and forgotten, yet familiar smile on his face… ”You mean… Adam?” Despite his best efforts around you, saying the first man’s name still dripped his words with venom. That same sour taste filling his mouth at the mere mention of him. ”What does-” he stops himself, he knows why.

You breathe in slowly, “What you said to me, all of those years ago, hasn’t meant anything to me in a long time. I’ve gotten through it 10x over and finally understand that I am more than those words” you take another step towards him, closing the gap, “so… there's no use for your apology to me. But Adam… you’ve hurt him more than you couldn’t possibly imagine“

The room was filled with dense air, like any sudden move could kill the king of hell or even you at any second but still you continue. “Adam deserved so much better than what he was forced to have from you, so if anyone deserves your apology, it’s him.” He goes to speak but you shut him down again “but we all know that you are too prideful to do so, and Adam… he’s too stubborn to hear it”

You don’t yell, scream, all of your words coming soft from your lips “So… what you’re going to do, if you truly mean what you say. You will go back to your daughter, forget this conversation ever happened, then you can march back to your big castle with your Loving wife, and leave us be, for the rest of eternity.”

With that, you step away from him, words that have been bubbling inside you for centuries finally having been let out. It felt like several hundred pounds had been lifted off of you. You begin to walk to the door to let him out, wanting the conversation to be over, When you hear him speak a faint ”Ex-Wife actually”

You pause, your teeth already biting your tongue. Honestly, if you really thought about it, it was poetic. The Angel who ruined two marriages, leaving Adam nothing but a broken heart and baggage, ended up with a failed marriage himself.

But even still, you still felt a slight pain of pity for him. Through clenched teeth you let out ”I'm… sorry to hear that. It must be hard.”

This kind of thing, no matter the person, is always tough. You knew the aftermath of it through Adam, even now he struggles with so many issues from it. In that regard, you felt pity for the ruler of hell, but the rest of you felt… glad? Glad that he finally understands just a thorn of the pain he inflicted on Adam.

“The 5 minutes are up so… go now… please.” Your voice shakes near the end, your will power for everything you’ve done starting to break. Lucifer looked equally as defeated, you could tell he wanted to say more but he just nodded his head before walking out the door. slowly, silently, you close the door back before sliding down it as your legs give out.

You wanted to cry, scream, do anything but sit there, but you couldn’t. Your voice hurts from talking, your feet hurt from standing, everything just… hurts.

DING DING DING

A luminous yellow light follows the sound, you lifted your head and saw your phone on your nightstand. Adam… You used all of your strength to make it to your bed, practically having to crawl to avoid any more tiredness in your aching body. You finally land on the soft mattress to pick up your phone, seeing the plethora of messages from Adam.

DIXKMASTER69

Yo Bitch, everything good??

You’ve been typing for like 10 minutes

Answer me

Hellllloooooo??????

Oh, that’s why he was texting. You had completely forgotten your half written message you were debating on sending earlier. You start to delete it and rewrite it when suddenly,

INCOMING CALL FROM DIXKMASTER69

You sigh at the screen, your phone vibration sends chills through your aching arms, it acts as a lifeline for you not to fall asleep on the soft plush beneath you. You press the answer button.

‘Fuck Babe, finally! Are you ok?!” Adam’s voice sounded angry but you know he was just worried “you’ve been texting for like 15 minutes”

“Yeah, don’t worry Adam, I... must have fallen asleep while trying to message you”

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, you dont normally fall asleep in the middle of the day” Adam questions, his voice having obvious worry for you.

“Today’s just been very tiring. But I promise I’m fine, it’s just happened a lot today.” You hated lying to him, your other half, but you know this is something that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

You hear him groan, “how many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you not to overwork yourself for those sinners”

“I know, I’m sorry” you pause “I… I have to go now but I promise I’ll call you later, yeah?“

He was quiet on the other side before he lets out “Yeah, just don’t overdo yourself ok?” His voice was soft, no hint of sarcasm or anger, just him.

You let out a small breathy laugh “I promise. Have fun at your show tonight. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too”

CLICK

You sigh to yourself, you still have the tour to do. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Tomorrow will be a better day. it has to be.

-

TAGLIST: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn

@ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che

@edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee @pandaquick @white-00-7 @call-me-nyx @adamstruelove @jennieyeager @sillyycatt @solatiium @my-name-is-heartache @parisiterileymoon @titan-senpai @lovely-night-owl-86 @innergardentoadpony @animefan106sposts @starlightstarbrightmyfirststar @lovkayy @ilikedrinkingsoda @barrythestrawberry041 @deadpoolssweetchimi @asegirllovesreadingporn @ripashy @deleted-1-800 @sirenetheblogger @ur1nonlygabi @aweleyirene @n0tmentallystable

(I really hope I didn’t forget anyone if I did, just asked to be added in the comments!!)

Shoutout to these specific asked as well, love you all <3

[justakaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 7. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A/N: I'm so scared to post this... Forgive me for the long wait! I was about to post this sooner, but my friend said this wasn't good, so I was devastated and swore to myself to delete my account (overreacting a little?) I'm definitely not confident in this chapter, and I have to apologize to the people who have been waiting for this; you deserve better. I've been having a tough time in my personal life these past weeks, and I'm not in the same state as I was in when I started posting. The chapters will be posted less often compared to the usual pace - for now at least. I am sorry. I hope at least someone will find this enjoyable. Word count: 4 859 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Yeosang, we shouldn’t...” 

“It’s okay. Jongho won’t know,” Yeosang whispered to you with a reassuring look, trying to ignore the nervousness of what would happen if Jongho found out. 

“But he would get really angry.” 

“That’s only if you tell him. Please, let’s do this. Okay?” 

The mix of hesitation and guilt was evident on your face, as you pondered what to do. You had no reason to feel guilty; you hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but just considering of accepting Yeosang’s offer made you feel ill. 

“Fine... But just one,” you murmured. 

Yeosang smiled shyly, a gleam of triumph in his eyes, and scooted closer to you on the couch, that suddenly seemed too small for both of you. 

“Just one...” 

Then, Yeosang took two chocolate bars out of his brown bag, and gave the other one to you, wrapper rustling. It was your favorite one, which baffled you, because you couldn’t recall ever telling Yeosang that. 

“How angry do you think Jongho would be if he found out we’ve eaten before dinner? He said I should save my hunger for the food,” you spoke while munching on the bar. 

Yeosang chuckled sheepishly at your worry. It seemed like he hesitated for a bit, almost like scared to touch you, before setting his hand on your shoulder, “You’re a grown woman. He can’t tell you what to do.” 

His hand lingered longer than necessary. It sent tingles around your upper half; you weren’t used to affectionate touch, but after joining the peer support group you received it more than maybe necessary. 

“I think you should take another one,” Yeosang offered you more chocolate, working as the devil on your shoulder while looking like an angel, tempting you to give in to the pleasure of gluttony. 

You were too far gone. The first chocolate bar had woken up your hunger that shouldn’t be satiated until Jongho was there. 

“I guess one more wouldn’t do any bad.” 

After devouring nine more with Yeosang, to your horror, you didn’t find yourself hungry anymore. Your stomach was full, and to be honest, it even ached. It was expected, and you felt guilty to have betrayed Jongho. 

“I... think this was a mistake.” 

Yeosang looked away in shame and took his hand off your thigh he had placed it on, as the warmth left you too, “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to buy you something nice.” 

He looked like a kicked puppy, staring at the floor. It would have been cruel of you to let him believe you didn’t appreciate his kindness. 

He had just wanted to make you happy, which he succeeded in, but you were afraid of Jongho’s reaction. Yeosang and him didn’t even know each other properly, having shared only a couple words. 

After a little hesitation, you patted Yeosang’s shoulder in reassurance, “It’s okay. I appreciate your gesture.” 

Yeosang and you had been hanging out a lot after last therapy session. You found yourself enjoying his company and even starting to trust him – maybe a bit too much to your liking. You let him in your apartment, of course under your surveillance, but still; it was a big step in starting to give people chances. 

But this was a day you were supposed to spend with Jongho. Still, Yeosang had come to your apartment, smiling sheepishly and convincing you to let him hang out with you and Jongho. How could you refuse him when he looked at you with those hopeful brown eyes? It would have been a crime not to let him in especially when he had brought you chocolate. 

Hopefully, Jongho wouldn’t mind that much that you had already stuffed yourself with candy before dinner. 

The doorbell rang, indicating Jongho was there, making your full stomach flutter with anxiety. 

Every step you took towards the door felt too fast, approaching the inevitable danger. You hoped the floor had a sinkhole under it and you’d fall into it, rather than you having to open the door. Jongho could be furious, but like usually, he would show it in other ways than pure aggression. 

And behind the door, there he was, standing drenched because he had walked in the sleet on his way to your apartment. 

“I brought the ingredients. We’re making soup” Jongho said, two heavy grocery bags in his hands, undoubtedly filled with other stuff as well than just the ingredients. 

“Oh, splendid. By the way, Yeosang’s here,” you revealed nervously. 

Jongho’s expression turned sour as Yeosang peeked behind you. Neither of the men smiled at each other, but you didn’t think of that as a big deal. Jongho wasn’t one to smile that much and Yeosang was shy; they’d get along just fine. At least you wished so, because if they started fighting, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. 

“Do you need a towel? You look quite wet.” 

Jongho seemed to contemplate your words for a second before answering, “Yeah, that would be nice.” 

“I’ll bring you a fresh towel.” 

“No need to. A used towel is just fine. I wouldn’t want to cause you more laundry.” 

You frowned but nodded slowly. All kinds of thoughts tangled in your mind, ranging from Jongho wanting to steal your towel to darker scenarios, like selling it on black market to old perverts or criminals who wanted to steal your DNA and make a clone of you. But you had to remember: you had a bad habit of overthinking. 

After he had dried himself off with the towel you brought, Jongho walked past Yeosang, shooting him a glare as he made his way to the kitchen. 

“Yeosang grates the vegetables,” Jongho informed with a tone that left no room for discussion. 

Poor Yeosang didn’t have the courage to refuse so he just walked to the kitchen as well, steps slow and sad. You had to catch the chuckle that was about to fall from your lips despite feeling bad for him. 

The three of you started cooking, the kitchen filling with delicious scent and sound of the water boiling and meat frying on the pan. There were no other sounds though, just awkward silence. You didn’t want to be the person who would have to start the conversation, but you were the only one who could do it. You had to be the savior, although you couldn’t afford to hope for Yeosang and Jongho to become friends.  

“Uh, this smells really good. I’m sure it will be yummy,” you started, sounding like you were pathetically awful at holding conversations. 

Jongho didn’t reply, focused on frying the meat. Luckily – and surprisingly – Yeosang had the social capacity to answer you. 

“It will be yummy because you were preparing it.” 

It was corny but kind of cute. Jongho didn’t seem to think so as he scoffed. 

“With that logic the food will taste like shit because Yeosang is preparing it. He’s cutting the carrots wrong.” 

You almost gasped at Jongho’s mean words directed at Yeosang. There was nothing Yeosang could have done to make Jongho hate him; Yeosang was a sweetheart. 

The room fell silent once again, but you tried desperately to keep the conversation alive. Usually, silence didn’t bother you as much, but this kind of quiet, tense atmosphere made you uncomfortable. 

“Wow Yeosang, I could never cut vegetables as well as you.” 

“Instead of cutting vegetables, he should cut the bullshit and tell us why he’s here.” 

The situation started feeling even more tense, making it hard to breathe. Surprisingly, Yeosang didn’t seem to take Jongho’s harsh words into heart as much as you would have thought. Sure, he looked flustered and a bit scared, but he still bravely defended himself. 

“I-I didn’t know you were coming here... I just wanted to spend time with Y/N.” 

“I let him in. Don’t blame him,” you joined in to protect Yeosang from Jongho’s wrath. 

You didn’t like to anger Jongho either, but throwing Yeosang under the bus and letting him take all the blame didn’t sit right with you. 

It was silent for a moment as Jongho just stared at you two before murmuring, “I’ll let it slide. But I just wished I could have spent today with her alone.” 

A pang of guilt hit you, but it was too late to kick Yeosang out. Jongho just had to deal with the situation now, and you’d apologize later. 

The food was done in about 30 minutes, and the three of you were sitting at the table. Jongho had stolen the place next to you before Yeosang could even utter a word, and Yeosang was sitting opposite to Jongho. It wasn’t a nice spot to sit at, under Jongho’s spiteful eyes. 

“Jongho, how was the weather? You looked pretty upset when you got here,” you wondered. 

“I was upset about the weather, yes. Now I have other reasons.” 

You couldn’t come up with any else response than just nodding to him. It was not your fault he seemed so grumpy and unresponsive – well, maybe it was your fault for letting Yeosang in. 

The food was good, but you definitely did not feel that way otherwise. Yeosang must have felt very uncomfortable, you thought, so instead of dealing with Jongho’s attitude, you wanted to talk to Yeosang. 

“How have you liked hanging out with me?” 

That was the best you could do in that atmosphere. 

“Well, I think you’re lovely and-” 

“Have you been hanging out? How much?” Jongho interrupted Yeosang and raised his gaze from the food. 

The look on his face startled you. It was intense, burning through your skin to find out the truth. You had done nothing wrong, just hanging out with Yeosang. Even if the relationship between you and Jongho wasn’t fake, it wouldn’t be wrong of you to have friends. 

“Well, we’ve been meeting pretty frequently this week.” 

Jongho’s eyes narrowed. He gripped the utensils tighter, but couldn’t find the words to say. His body language told enough. 

Not to Yeosang though, because he didn’t drop the subject, “Y/N and I went to a restaurant. It was very romantic...” 

The chair you were sitting on felt so uncomfortable but it was like you were tied to it, unable to leave the room. Your eyes begged Yeosang to stop, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“A-At one point, she needed help with the zipper of her dress. The dress was beautiful just like its wearer.” 

Jongho nodded, signaling Yeosang to continue. 

“We also went ice-skating. It was freezing so I gave her my jacket.” 

You sensed a catastrophe was about to happen. The tension and Jongho would snap any moment now, and you were not waiting eagerly for that to happen. Yeosang was like a completely different man, not seeming so reserved and anxious anymore. 

“If she was my girlfriend, I would treat her like a queen.” 

It all happened so fast. The sound of the plate shattering and the sight of Yeosang’s bloody face were something you couldn’t realize first nor forget. 

Yeosang’s nose was bleeding, eyes teary in pain, yet his face was also covered in soup. The plate shattered on the floor in thousand little pieces served as a reminder to you, that Jongho had really thrown the plate at Yeosang’s face. 

The room was silent for a small moment. Yeosang’s pain and state made you feel sick in stomach. Jongho had no reason to throw the plate; he didn’t even love you. It was just pure, cruel violence towards Yeosang who had complimented you kindly. 

“What the hell?!” your head snapped to look at Jongho. 

Against all expectations, he looked horrified. It was a sight that had never been seen, Jongho being so calm and collected usually. He didn’t look guilty, but yet his eyes were wide open in terror, after he had finally realized what he had done. 

“I-I didn’t mean to do that.” 

It wasn’t like you to show your anger, but this was a serious situation, serious violence towards your friend. One thing you couldn’t accept was hurting people close to you. It wasn’t always easy to defend them since you were afraid of the consequences, but you couldn’t let this slide. 

“It doesn’t matter! You still did it because you couldn’t control yourself. What did Yeosang even do to deserve this?” 

“He was flirting with you,” Jongho muttered despite wanting to present himself stronger. 

“And why does it bother you? We’re not even really dating.” 

Yeosang’s eyes looked like the plate that had just crashed into his head; that’s how wide they were after hearing your revelation. 

You didn’t even care about the fake relationship anymore. You couldn’t care less about Jongho either anymore, at least that’s what you told yourself. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. After all the dates and days you had spent with him, despite them being fake, you had grown fond of him. 

But resorting into violence when he didn’t even love you, was what you found repulsive. At that moment, you saw him as a monster worse than the stalker. 

“Get out and never talk to us again.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to repair this.” 

“There’s no way you could redeem yourself,” you said sharply. His face you had found handsome just a few moments ago made you feel disgusted now. 

“Let me help you, Yeosang-” 

Jongho’s attempt at fixing the situation was shut down by you instantly. You wouldn’t let him touch Yeosang. 

“Don’t touch him. Get out or I’ll call the police. They’ll arrest you for assault.” 

He looked so sad as you demanded him to go out. The mention of police apparently worked though, because he started making his way out. You wouldn’t grant him any access to your apartment anymore. He had no keys to your home and definitely none of your sympathy. For the rest of his life, he would be banned from entering. 

You rushed to Yeosang as Jongho left the apartment, the sound of the front door shutting signaling that. 

“Are you hurting much?” 

“Y-Yes. I’m pretty sure my nose is bleeding.” 

With careful movements, you wiped his face clean of the food. Once his face was clear of the hot soup, you noticed his nose was indeed bleeding. 

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, despite nothing being your fault. If you hadn’t let Yeosang in your apartment, this catastrophe would have never happened. 

“I’m so sorry, Yeosang-” 

“Were you really fake dating Jongho?” 

You hadn’t expected Yeosang to ask that, but he deserved your honesty after what happened. 

“Yes. Jongho suggested it so he could protect me from a stalker that has been sending me disturbing stuff,” you sighed. 

Yeosang hummed in acknowledgement, before he frowned, “Do you have any idea who it could be?” 

“It’s someone from the therapy group, but at least it isn’t you... I hope so.” 

Yeosang let out a shy laugh at your comment, “What can I do to gain your trust?” 

“Only time will help,” you grinned sheepishly, “So you’d do well to not be revealed as the stalker.” 

Yeosang started looking dizzy, so you decided you’d let him take a nap on your bed. While you tucked him in, he gave you a sleepy smile, making your heart ache in guilt yet warm up with gratitude for him not blaming you. 

He slept like a baby the whole night, and you checked up on him frequently to see if he had stopped suddenly breathing or suffered concussion. You weren’t one to abandon your friends... and you were also kind of afraid if he died the police would blame it on you. That night, you slept on the couch, too scared to sleep next to Yeosang. He was your friend, but he could backstab you any moment both figuratively and literally. 

The next day, you were at the therapy meeting once again. You didn’t know whether to be surprised or not about the fact that Jongho wasn’t there. Yeosang and San were sitting next to you. 

“What’s up with Yeosang’s face?” San leaned to whisper to you, wondering why Yeosang’s face was bruised. His scent was appealing, and you felt both nervous yet somehow excited to be so close to him. 

“Um, he hit himself with a hockey stick.” 

“Dumbass,” San chuckled in response. 

You wanted to punch him, but after some thinking, he probably hadn’t meant anything bad with it. San was playful but you had never seen him act hostile except when Hongjoong had insulted you. 

As Hongjoong himself came in the room, being the last one to enter, you realized Yeosang wasn’t the only one who had been assaulted. 

Hongjoong’s cheek was bruised and it almost hurt you to look at it. There was an eyepatch in front of his left eye – if there even was an eye there anymore... 

“Ahoy! The pirate king’s here!” Wooyoung cheered gleefully, earning a few chuckles around the room. 

Even if the eye patch wasn’t enough to make Hongjoong look like a pirate, he was limping. It was honestly a sad sight. 

Hongjoong shot a deadly glare at Wooyoung, looking like he wanted to say something. But he held back from starting to argue with him. He knew what mean words had gotten him into last time. 

“May I ask what happened to you?” Charlotte directed her question at Hongjoong who looked like he wanted to kill someone. 

“You may not,” he sat down as far away from Wooyoung and San as possible. 

Right at the moment Hongjoong spoke his words, the tension tightened, like a rubber band being pulled from both sides. Even though Charlotte started speaking again, explaining that today’s subject was inspiration and motivation, nobody could concentrate, just focusing on Hongjoong’s pathetic state. 

“Looks like Jongho isn’t here. Does anyone know where he is?” 

You felt cold shivers when the attention was on you, listening ears all around you, waiting for your answer because you were supposedly Jongho’s girlfriend. What could you tell? That Jongho had thrown a plate at Yeosang’s face and gotten kicked out of your apartment? 

“Last time I hung out with him he seemed a little sick,” Yunho informed. 

You had had no idea that Yunho had even spoken to Jongho, but now he was revealing that they had been hanging out. 

“That’s weird. He told me that he... Never mind,” Charlotte shrugged, “Let’s start with Mingi. What is your motivation to keep living?” 

Mingi seemed to be deep in thoughts before looking straight at you and smiling happily like you had asked the question, not Charlotte, “I keep living because my music helps people.” 

Wooyoung snickered and turned to look at San swiftly, who just smiled faintly in response. 

“Weren’t you performing at the Valentine’s Day event?” 

Mingi nodded confidently at Wooyoung’s question. 

“I happened to see Y/N and Jongho there. They were the only ones that stayed,” Wooyoung mentioned. 

But unlike Wooyoung had hoped, Mingi didn’t seem fazed by his mocking, “It means the world to me that Y/N stayed. Have you done anything to gain and earn her attention?” 

The way Mingi stayed confident and didn’t back down made you feel proud of him. He had been ridiculed so much before that he deserved to finally stand his ground proudly. 

Wooyoung shut up when Mingi didn’t react to his comment in the way he wanted. A rare sight truly, was to see Wooyoung embarrassed, murmuring something to San. 

“Let’s not mock each other here, okay? This is a place of acceptance and love.” 

Charlotte’s pacific words almost made you cringe. How was it that when Hongjoong had insulted you, Charlotte let it happen, not caring to defend you, but now she wanted to play an ambassador of peace? 

“Yunho, go ahead and tell us your motivation and inspiration to life, please.” 

“Protecting the people I love keeps me going.” 

“Why not protecting all people? You’re a policeman, you just can’t pick and choose who to protect,” Wooyoung chimed in again. 

“Oh, shut up already,” San smacked Wooyoung in the head. 

In your opinion, Wooyoung’s question was valid. Maybe it was just because you wanted a reason to suspect Yunho, but it was reasonable to consider why Yunho mentioned only his loved ones. 

“Oh, of course I want to protect everyone. Justice means everything to me. Locking up criminals is just my way of protecting my girlfriend.” 

You felt incredibly stupid and shocked – yet also relieved. All this time, Yunho had had a girlfriend, but you had been suspecting him of being the stalker. A wave of relief washed over you, making you relax on your seat, finally knowing that Yunho wasn’t the stalker. He was just an innocent man who seemed a bit twisted. 

“You have a girlfriend?” San asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Yunho’s smile was an odd and dreamy one, “Well, she’s not my girlfriend yet but she will be. Sooner or later.” 

And it was gone, your relief and belief that Yunho would be safe after all. His words sounded ominous even if it wasn’t possibly you who he was talking about. 

“Yeosang, your turn.” 

“I’m motivated to live because I finally have a friend by my side.” 

As Yeosang turned to glance at you quickly, the corners of your lips rose into a soft smile. Having had deep conversations with him before, you knew about the loneliness he had had to endure his whole life due to his social anxiousness. 

“Do you think she really wants to be your friend? Or does she hang out with you because she pities you?” 

Hongjoong dared to speak ill again, and you weren’t about to accept that. Maybe you didn’t know how to defend yourself, but you had developed an instinct to take care of Yeosang, so you spoke before thinking. 

“Pity him? If I befriended people because I pity them, you would be my best friend. You’re pathetic, thinking you’re so much better than others just because you were born with a silver spoon up your ass.” 

A forced scoff made its way out of Hongjoong’s mouth when you insulted him, “That’s the best what you can do? I’ve gained my wealth and glory by my own. You wouldn’t know that, leeching off government’s aids.” 

“Do you talk about anything other than money and how successful you are? You’re making your whole personality orbit around things that are going to disappear anyways.” 

“Everything and everyone disappear eventually. Just like your parents did.” 

Hongjoong’s snarky reply froze you. There was no way he could know about your parents’ disappearance in your childhood. Either he wanted to use a petty, unoriginal insult or he actually knew secrets about your past that only people who you trusted should have known. 

It was the last thing you expected, him bringing up things about the most painful time in your life. About the time you so desperately wanted to forget. 

“I advise you to shut your mouth, Hongjoong,” San said coldly. 

It worked to your surprise and luck. Hongjoong’s bruised lips shut and he was glaring at San with the visible eye. Despite his undeniable fury, he kept all of his thoughts where they belonged. 

“Y/N, could you tell us about your motivation next?” 

You had to learn to open up, but after Hongjoong’s comment, you couldn’t. Your mouth was sealed, sewn shut. 

It was humiliating to have let him get under your skin once again, but it was impossible for you to speak anymore. You were silent, while everyone was waiting, but you did not care. 

“It’s okay, say something vague,” San took your hand gently, making you flinch. 

Everyone in the room was nuts. They were way too intrusive, though in many variable ways. 

But you couldn’t let Hongjoong win, to make you shut down completely. The satisfaction it would bring him made you feel disgusted, so you managed to come up with an answer. 

“My motivation to live is to prove that I refuse to die like this.” 

The others were silent, taking your words in. 

“Wow, that’s inspiring. A bit cringe, but inspiring,” Wooyoung nodded. 

The round continued, it being San’s turn next. He talked about how his aspiration was to be the best version of himself. Wooyoung didn’t have an answer that deep, but it was okay. Apparently, he dreamed of having a sword battle with Hongjoong, because he was convinced he’d win the ‘pirate king’ himself. The notorious pirate king did not even scoff but he was embarrassed, looking away with his one eye. 

It was Seonghwa’s turn. 

“My motivation to live is not anything special,” he started sheepishly, “I just want to take care of my loved ones. Make them feel like they’re the most important people in the world. Because they are – to me.” 

Seonghwa’s admission melted your heart into a puddle. How could one be so sweet and still be friends with Hongjoong? It was suspicious. 

Maybe they weren’t friends after all, because Seonghwa hadn’t been sitting next to Hongjoong that therapy session. There was an empty chair between them, a spot where Jongho was supposed to be. Jongho could have been next to you if he wasn’t such a madman and hadn’t thrown the plate at Yeosang. The memory still made you boil. 

Hongjoong was the last to speak. For a second, he didn’t look as angry as before, but the soft expression was quickly gone. 

“My motivation is to prove I am better than everyone else. And my inspiration to all of my recent work... it’s someone special.” 

Your ears must have been damaged or lying, because you couldn’t fathom the fact that Hongjoong had called someone ‘special’. Unless he meant himself, of course. The man with a heart made of iron had a soft spot for another human being. It surely wasn’t you to your luck. 

As if he wasn’t intimidating enough with the pirate type of look, his gaze made you shiver. It stopped on you for a moment, reading you like a book he was strangely interested in. 

He stared at you with his eye, and surely the one under the eyepatch would have been directed to you as well. 

The feeling of being watched and stared at didn’t stop even when you were walking home. Your home wasn’t far away from the bus stop, actually a very small distance, but the need to run was overwhelming. Like someone was breathing in your neck, you knew it was just the wind. 

The couple hundred steps it took to reach your apartment felt excruciating, pure torture to your mind. But when you finally got home, feeling the warmth and turning on the lights, the world seemed to brighten up a little bit. Out there, you were in danger but your home was the safest place you could be at – although you always had the nagging sensation of someone watching you. Home inspectors had told you countless times there was nothing to be afraid of but you knew better. Others may have thought of it as highly unlikely but there was always a possibility of the stalker living inside your walls. 

Looking around the apartment for any signs of something suspicious like letters, you came to the conclusion that nobody had been there. So, for that night at least, you were safe. This had become a ritual for you. It was impossible for you to fall asleep if you hadn’t checked every room. 

As you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Eye bags told the story of your restless nights, tossing and turning around in anxiety. Your psychiatrist advised you to start taking melatonin but that was too risky. What if someone really broke into your apartment and you wouldn’t wake up from your slumber? 

The bedroom was always the last room you checked. It was small, so there weren’t a lot of potential hiding spots for stalkers and murderers to attack from. Still, you had to check it thoroughly. 

In the bedroom, there was a pile of pieces of fabric on the floor. Instantly, you recognized the pattern being your bed sheets. 

You just couldn’t remember changing the sheets before you left. Sure, Yeosang could have changed them as an act of kindness after he had slept on your bed. His blood had surely stained the pillow sheets, and Yeosang was a considerate man. 

Nonetheless, you were exhausted, and the clean bedsheets invited you to snuggle in, smell the fresh scent of laundry detergent. You knew you should have been more careful, think about the situation with more depth. But still, you let yourself fall onto the bed and let it embrace you. 

You instantly noticed something was off though. The sheets didn’t smell like the laundry detergent or anything that you could reason with. They didn’t carry the scent of Yeosang either. 

As you sniffed the sheets furiously, trying to dig your memories to realize what the scent was, you realized something. The scent was too familiar. It wasn’t Yeosang. It wasn’t you. There was absolutely no reason for the sheets to smell like Jongho, but they did.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 6. Chapter 8. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto @eighttens

[lightlycareless]

i have a headcanon that naoya loves slapping y/n ass 😭 poor girl

Hellooooo anoooon!!!! Thank you for waiting!!

Sometimes I get these very specific asks where I'm like "I haven't thought about it but am I glad this was brought up to my attention."

Thank you so much for sending this in, I really enjoy writing the perverted Naoya that kind of guides himself through his desires :) I really need to make him more debauched lol.

Anyways, here are the warnings: slight nsfw. just innuendos here and there, nothing explicit. but still, minors please don't interact.

Happy reading!!

Honestly, that is just one of his many fixations when it comes to your body, perhaps his focus solely depends on his mood that day. Sometimes it’s your chest, and sometimes your ass. But once he sets his mind into tormenting you there is no stopping him—it’s like it were physically impossible to not slap your butt. Naoya simply has to or he’ll go insane!

To which you… go along with. Most of the time, sometimes… though you enjoy the playful connotations behind his actions, you still get flustered for them! Naturally so if he always did them in front of others, even if he proclaimed to do so discreetly.

But that wasn’t the point of this at all! Far from it, actually. It all boiled down to a single question, every single time: was it really necessary for him to slap, pinch, squeeze, and fondle your ass, every minute of the day?!

For someone as debouched as Naoya, yes. And you’d do good, as everyone else, to accept this fact and move on if there was the slightest wish to accomplish anything at the estate.

Yet, as much as you loved Naoya and all his peculiarities, indulged them too as well, you’d soon reach the limit where you could no longer permit his excessive enjoyment to perturb you anymore.

Not when in the presence of innocent bystanders, and certainly not when it starts to hurt.

“Naoya!” you cry the moment his hand lands against your bottom once again, giving a loud smack that made everyone around red, quick to look away less they wished to suffer Naoya’s irrational jealousy, or your shocking frustration at the now shattered pieces of your favorite tea set. “That was—”

“Oh, oops.” He sheepishly apologizes, and if that wasn’t clear enough to prove his indifference at the whole situation, his following words did. “But I can always get you a new one.”

“That was—what is wrong with you?! That was my favorite set!! A gift from my sister!”

“Y/N, it’s just a matter of reaching out to her and asking—”

“No, you’re not going to buy your way out of this!” you interject, with a loud, clear voice that rattles Naoya for a moment, never seen you this agitated before…

“My love, truly, it was just an accident—"

“It’s not an accident if it happens all the time!”

“All the time? Just how many teapots do you think I’ve broken??”

“That’s not—You know I’m not talking about that!”

“Is that so? Well, whatever it is, you never seemed to have a problem with it before… I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a nuisance.”

“… you know what? I need some air.” And without anything else to add, you motion the nearby staff to help you clean up his mess before leaving the kitchen.

Leaving behind a distraught Naoya who didn’t take much longer than just a few seconds of analyzing your stern, disappointed tone to know he had direly messed up and subsequently, chase after you.

“Wait, Y/N—”

However, you were (surprisingly) faster to outwit him, at least until you were able to arrive to a secluded garden where you’d be able to deal with the humiliation of not only being exposed through his lewd act, but also the dismissal of your feelings.

The importance of the lovely gift your sister gave you to commemorate your marriage, relegated to a simple, playful “apology” simply because Naoya was too stubborn to admit his faults. To deal with the consequences of his actions, instead of you!

…A part of you knew this was almost silly to stress about, for you were well acquainted with this side of Naoya when you got together with him—so to suddenly proclaim otherwise would only prove foolish.

Still, it didn’t hurt any less. And at the notion of him possibly coming to insist you on how there wasn’t nothing wrong with his behavior, simply an exaggeration on your part, makes you consider spending some time apart; at least until you cool down.

But surely you weren’t expecting him to actually allow that, were you?

“Y/N, you can’t just leave like that.” Naoya says once he finally reaches you, but you do little as raise your gaze to him, still focused on the flowers before you. He insists. “Y/N—"

“Are you here to make fun of me again? Was that not enough?” you murmur, he presses his lips.

“I’m just playing, you should know that by now, princess.” He persists, followed by the feeble attempt of reaching out to you, taking a seat by your side just at the edge of the engawa… Only for you to inch away when he does.

If your sudden disappearance moments ago wasn’t enough proof of your animosity, then this heart wrenching disapproval is.

“Y/N…”

“What do you want, Naoya? How else could I probably entertain you into leaving me alone?”

“Why would you want me to leave?” He asks. “Is that not why we married? To never be apart?”

“…I recall making a vow to support one another, not ridicule. Or hurt.”

“Hurt?” Naoya repeats almost incredulously, blinking as his mind desperately attempts to recall a moment where he’d done the very same thing he swore to never do again. “When have I… I wouldn’t, Y/N.”

But you remain silent at his response, briefly giving him a look that denotes your retaliation to said announcement, your skepticism behind his confidence, before looking away once more.

You had no reason to lie about such serious matters, after all.

“… Is it because of the tea cups set?” Naturally, amongst other things. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you into dropping them; I just… well, I guess I just wanted to brighten your mood, you seemed pretty… tense.”

“Were there no other ways to do so?” you quietly add. “Must you… make me look like a fool?”

“I doubt anyone thought that of you, my love. The whole estate adores you.” Naoya admits. “If anything, I’d be the one they abhor above all… and within reason.”

“Not everyone hates you, Naoya.” You look at him, gaze softening at the face of his insecurities.

If there’s one thing you dislike more than how impetuous your husband can be from time to time… it’s his sadness. His solitude.

No one is deserving of such doubts, certainly not your loved ones.

“I don’t hate you.” You say. “Even if we disagree in some things… my love will never dwindle.”

“I shouldn’t have made you angry; the reason why I married you was to strengthen my commitment of making you happy, not the other way around.”

“It’s bound to happen, we’re both human after all.” You chuckle. “But… I guess I let my emotions get the best of me because… well, I’m… hurt.”

“Hurt?” Naoya frowns. “What do you mean hurt? Who did it? Is he still here?? I’ll make sure they—”

“No, Naoya, don’t—it’s not like that.” You shyly explain, heat slowly starting to settle in your cheeks and ears. “I… Let’s say I’m not very comfortable sitting down.”

“Sitting down?? What are you—”

…

Oh.

Oh.

It’s Naoya’s moment to turn bright red at the quick flash of last night’s endeavors.

Had he truly been that careless with his desire, that he didn’t measure the intensity of his acts?

But he thought…

“Ye—yeah; you were a bit too… rough last night.” You follow. “I don’t usually mind but I guess… I wasn’t that prepared this time around.”

“O—Oh, Y/N… I… I’m sorry.” He stammers, taking your hands and gently pressing them. “I should’ve known.”

“It’s ok, I know.” You reassure him. “I… I think we just went a bit too crazy last night and didn’t deal with the aftermath properly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve done more.”

“Because it was… embarrassing for me.” You admit. “How do you tell your husband that your… butt hurts because he spanked it too much?”

“Just like that.” Naoya chuckles, releasing a bit of the tension settling on your shoulders “I do suppose this means I have to improve in our aftercare—guess it’s more than just warm baths and cuddles.”

“I guess it does.” You say. “Or maybe I’ve grown too old now…?”

“Old? Since when being in your 20’s is considered old?”

“A lot would say otherwise…”

“Ah, either way I’m not interested in such trivialities. All that I care about is making your butt feel better.”

“It sounds wrong when you say it like that.” You pout, he laughs.

“It’s the truth.” Naoya shrugs. “Do you think kissing it better will help?”

“Oh, no, it’s off limits until I feel better!” you fervently shake your head at this scandalous proposal. “And that includes sex!”

“…Fine, I can live with that.” Naoya dejectedly admits, because to the always handsy husband, this might as well be a life sentence, as ridiculous as that sounded. “Anything for my mochi, I suppose…”

“…But I guess I can make exceptions if you get the same tea set, without Hinata knowing about it! She’ll kill me if she finds out what happened to it…”

“Kill you? Impossible; if anything, I believe she might even find some way to make this incident a… blessing.” Proclaim even that her gift wasn’t that pretty anyways and she could get you a much better! Just to avoid seeing you upset. “I’d be the one to face death instead.”

“Not if we keep this a secret.” You smile, offering your pinky finger at him. “Shall this stay between us?”

He clasps your finger with his.

“I swear, over your sore—”

“Shut up!”

Your reaction would be believable if you weren’t equally perverted as him, it’s how many of these things came to be, after all.

Nothing but a reflection of your own desires, made possible thanks to his undying devotion.

a.k.a you have all these kinks you wanna try out and naoya is like damn!!!

...

...

....

count me in. also facesitting is 🤌

Nothing more to add than thank you so much for this hehe I hope it was to your enjoyment!

Take care and hope to see you soon :)) 💖💖💖

[1lovewony]

Vacation in Vietnam (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader Word count: 4440 words Summary: You intended to travel to well-known locations and enjoy delicious cuisine while on a relaxing and enjoyable vacation in Vietnam. However, something better than what you had anticipated occurred.

After a year of a successful debut and comeback, Newjeans finally got their deserved break. Each member planned their Vacation. Minji, Haerin, and Hyein with their family in South Korea, Danielle going back to Australia, and Hanni visiting her birth place in Vietnam. 

"Can't wait to explore and meet tokkis in Vietnam" Hanni talking to herself while waiting in line.

You always want to visit Southeast Asia, some of your friends recommend going to the Philippines or Indonesia, but while researching for countries with great places, food, and people. You've decided to go to Vietnam. At first, you're worried since you will go alone and don't know anybody in Vietnam, but in the end you thought, there will be people to help you in Vietnam. 

Arriving in Hanoi, Vietnam. It's really different from your home country. While waiting for a cab, a woman bumped you accidentally. 

"Oh! Sorry" Hanni apologies 

"No worries, look above when your walking" you said to her

"Thanks haha, I was waiting for my uber, but it seems he won't be able to pick me up" Hanni explained

"Oh, are you from here?, It looks like your Vietnamese" 

"Ah yes, I was born here, hmm are you a traveller?"

"Yeah, this is actually my first time travelling alone"

"Hmm, that's good to hear. Enjoy travelling to Vietnam!"

"Thanks, you too"

A cab pulled, you asked the cab driver for the Haiti hotel. You then sit inside the car. The driver then asked if anyone in the line of waiting passengers if someone would be dropping near the Haiti hotel, one passenger answered. The driver then let the passenger come in.

"Is this a thing here in Vietnam, Sir?"

"Oh, sorry. There's a shortage of Cab at the moment"

"Oh"

"Thanks, for letting me, I am dropping in Haiti hotel too" Hanni exclaimed

You look at her, hearing the same voices that you just talked to in the line just a few moments ago.

"Oh, your Hotel is in Haiti too" 

"Ahhh, you. Yes yes, haha"

"I am Y/N btw, sorry for not mentioning"

"I am Hanni" Hanni said while winking, thinking you would know her.

"Nice name, by chance do you know any tour guide person that knows Vietnam well?"

Hanni's facial expression from wanting to meet a tokki changed when you didn't recognize her.

"Oh, um, You know what, I can be your Your guide, I also wanna your my birthplace again"

"Really?, Don't you have any plan"

"Not really, lol too busy to plan before going here, so I was gonna wing it, but a companion would be great"

"Oh, thank you so much, don't worry I'll pay you too"

"No, no, I'll do it for free, haha"

"No, I insist, I'll pay you"

"Fine, fine"

The cab stopped, arriving at the Haiti hotel, both of you walked to the counter. 

"So, how can I contact you Hanni, do you want to start tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah, tomorrow sounds great. Umm, this is my IG"

"See you tomorrow" you said to her while waving

In your mind, you've not only hired a touring guide, but maybe a friend too. It's really going great, plus you thought she's cute and really friendly towards you.

"Yah, yah see you too!" Hanni waving 

No tokkis but a friend, great start for my Vacation, Hanni thought.

Waking up the next morning was a struggle, it's more hot and humid in Vietnam than your country, but you're excited to tour Vietnam and meet Hanni again.

You walked to the breakfast area of the hotel, wanting to relieve your aching stomach from hunger of yesterday's flight. Getting all kinds of food, half asleep you bumped into a person.

"Ouch" 

Hearing the voice, a sudden adrenaline rush to your body, it was Hanni

"Hanni?"

"Oh Y/N, waking early too for free breakfast huh? haha"

"Oh, yeah"

"You got some good selection of food"

"Well I wanna taste every food from Vietnam"

"Ah, later I'll bring you to my favourite restaurant with great foods"

"Oh really, I can't wait" Smiling and looking in her eyes

Hanni too is smiling while looking in your eyes

This looking in each other eyes turned from seconds to minutes, break by the waiter from the restaurant 

"Greeting in Vietnamese" "You two are a lovely couple, we would like you two to come in our free couple massage later this evening"

"Oh, no no. break by the finger of Hanni, shushing you

"Yeah, we are a couple. We would like that, thanks" said by Hanni

"Alright, here's the coupon. See you two later, Ma'am and Sir. Have a great day."

"Thank you too" - Hanni

"Wait, wait. Huh" looking confused to Hanni

"It's free, you should always take what the hotel offers you for free" 

"Oh, but we are not a couple though"

"Yes, we're not, but it's just a massage"

"Fine, that's what you said so"

"Let's wrap up and explore Vietnam" excitedly said by Hanni

"Yes, let's do it" 

You both go to your rooms, which aren't far from each other, just 3 doors apart. Your heart is beeping, your face smiling, and a tingling in your body as you change your clothes from pyjamas to a casual outfit.

"No way, this girl is making me feel this way. She's so cute, friendly, and ughhh I don't know. I just wanted to explore Vietnam but now, Ugh I don't know" you said to yourself while looking in the mirror

"He's cute" Hanni said in the mirror looking at herself

"He doesn't know me, which is fine but should I tell him?"

"No, no, maybe not yet. Ugh, this Vacation is going really really well"

You exit your door same as Hanni, she waves her hand to alert you that she's good to go.

"Nice outfit, you look cute" she said

"Thank you, you too. I like the bow" 

"Really?"

"Yes"

She holds onto your arms in the elevator, as if you two are a couple. But you didn't even mind that. You're blinded by her cuteness and aroma. You felt like you found the one, even though no label is labelled. You barely know her, yet you want to spend your whole life with her.

"Um Hanni, do"

"We should get a tuk tuk, it's more fun to ride" she said

"Really, yeah its looks fun" 

"What, wait what did you said"

"Nothing, haha"

"Hmm, you're asking if I have a boyfriend right?"

"No, no, no, no. I was asking if you have a family here?"

"My grandparents from my mother is here, and I don't have a boyfriend so your good"

"Oh, okay"

As the day goes by, you forget everything you planned in Vietnam. You only focus on how happy Hanni is, how much fun this cute Vietnamese girl you just met yesterday.

"Yo, that's the restaurant I said earlier"

"Oh, let's go eat"

"Me?" jokingly said by Hanni

Your confused face made her laugh.

"Haha, just joking. Let's go"

"Ah, whatever you said. Haha"

You paid the bill and told her that both of you can now go to your respective rooms, but she reminded you.

"Nah ugh, we got a couple massage later"

"Oh, I forgot, sorry"

"No worries, let's go now. It said until 9 pm"

"Okays"

You two walked to the massage room of the hotel, you asked the worker there where is the free couple massage, she pointed in the right direction, thus you two walked in there. The massage area is only 1 room, both will be side to side, and include each other's massage which confuses you.

"Each other massage, hmm what is this" looking confused to Hanni

"I don't know too" 

"Hi welcome to the free couple massage, in which 3 types of massage will happen, firstly the standard massage in which a Massager will massage your full body, the second one is spiritual massage, in which you two will be inside the hut together to the hot steam, and lastly the each other massage, would happen between you two only, massaging each other will make you two closer" 

"Oh, okay" looking at Hanni

"Yeahh, hmm this is my fault" 

"You know what, let's just get the first type then dipped?" 

"Yeah"

"Can we get the first type only?"

"Sir, you two are a couple, why wouldn't you two try the other types"

"Um, we are" interrupted by Hanni

"We'll take it all, thanks"

"Okay, maam"

"Okay, okay let's just not look at each other"

"Yeah" replied to Hanni

The first type of the massage went well, both of you got massaged by professionals and really a Vietnam massage that's different from your country.

"Oh that's good"

"Yes, my body feels better" said Hanni

The massager then pointed at the hut, they asked first what temperature the steam would you two like, you two choose the medium one. 

Getting in the hut was easy, but hot. The hut is smaller than it seems on the outside, it really is for only two or three people max, the massager said removing the towel would be better so your whole body gets the steam evenly. Minutes go by inside, both of you now looking at each other.

"This is nice, it's hot and steamy"

"Yeah, Even though we're in towels, it's still hot"

"There's only two of us, and with this heat, camera couldn't be place here" Hanni said

"What are you gonna do"

"Hmm, I, I, just don't look at me, okay. I'll try it without a towel" Hanni said

"But"

She tossed her towel to the side, exposing her full body to the hot steam. You didn't look, even though you wanted to. But you hold your stand. After a couple minutes, she covered her body with a towel.

"You should try it"

"Huh, removing my towel?"

"Yeah, it's better"

"Okay, but don't look ah" 

"Ye ye, I won't look"

You remove your towel from your body, exposing your naked body to the hot temperature, you look at Hanni, she fully closed her eyes. It was cute, the sight of her, fully closing her eyes to not see you naked. But in your mind, you want her to see you in this form, fully unclothed. Wanting her to see your erect penis. 

"Your right Hanni, this is better"

"I'll cover now" 

You said but it was before you got your towel below, as you said the last words from your mouth, she fully opened her eyes, looking at you while grabbing your towel below. 

"Oh my god, I thought you were covered already. Oh my god, I am so sorry"

"Oh, I, I, I'll cover now. Sorry"

Your mind was in bliss, thinking she could have seen your junior. While in her mind it was different, complete emptiness is in her kind, she doesn't know what to react on what she saw, but then a blood from the heart flow to her brain, it told her "That was big, I wanna touch it" 

"No, no, no Hanni, what you saw isn't real, Oh my god, is that how a cock is?, god damn, I thought those are not real, I thought they are just edited or enlarge cocks, but here it is, in front of me, A real big one, the one that is big, No, no Hanni, if he would know who am I, I am doomed, but he doesn't know, Iah fuck it, this is the only chance I get to touching a real thing, experiencing the big one." Hanni talking to herself in her mind

"Um, Y/N, do you have a girlfriend?"

"That's a weird question, I do not have one"

"Did you have, before?"

"No, no I don't"

"So, I could be your girlfriend now?"

"Huh?"

"You know, I don't know how to approach men but, this is the only chance I can get"

"What do you mean?"

"Can I be your girlfriend?"

"Wait, what's happening to you Hanni"

"This is Hanni still, and I am asking you to be my boyfriend so I can"

"So you can do what?"

"So, so, so I can suck your cock"

"What?" 

"Yes, I've seen it, and you're hard for me? right, I am the only one here, don't tell your gay"

"No, I am not gay, I don't know, this is so fast, we've only met ea6other for a day"

"Yes, it is but I want your cock now, I can't erased it in my head, it feels like it's tattooed there, cannot be remove"

You haven't said yes, but to her, you're her boyfriend now. She then crawls towards you, like a cat hungry for days, but in this case a girl hungry for cock. She removed her towel, exposing her cute breast to you.

"You like that?, would it make your cock bigger"

"Um, Hanni, what's happening to you, why are you like this"

You haven't done anything, not that you intentionally did what happened earlier, it was a miscommunication but your still happy that this girl your with is not shy to see her true self to you. It feels like her mind breaks already, just seeing your big penis. 

"Hanni, we're about to be done here in the hut, we should do it later in the room"

She snapped back to reality when you said it would be over inside the hut.

"Ah, is it?, is that a promise, I can touch it later?, It's mine right?"

"Yes, Hanni it's yours only but can you be your other self for now, please I don't want anybody to see you like this"

"Okay, Y/N you haven't answered my question yet"

"What question?"

"Ugh, you're so clueless, it's so cute. I'll ask you later"

Confused look at Hanni, as if you don't know what she meant, but slowly things are coming to your head, it makes sense now, how clingy she was before, how friendly she is to you. She likes you from the start when you two see each other, it's like a gift to her that she found you at the airport.

The last type of massage was shortly cancelled due to a leak in the steam in the room, so they gave you two additional 2 free massages just the normal ones for compensation.

You look at her, thinking she would be mad cause it was postponed but she's happy, for her it was a miracle. No timer for touching each other, and no hot steam that makes you two sweat. She wanted raw, raw hotness from your body touching each other, not a machine making the hot steam, but your lust and love for each other.

You two changed back to your casual outfit, she held your arms much tighter, making sure yours are her. 

"Y/N, I can't wait to see it again"

"Shh, we're still here, people might hear"

"Oh my god, why can't a couple talked about couple things, shh shh, your really is clueless and I really like it"

"Alright, alright, to answer your question, yes you can be my girlfriend but"

"No but, but"

She hugs you, you hug her back tightly. This day is full of wonderful things happening, not only did you travel Vietnam, eat good and lots of food, but you end up with a girlfriend from the country you're visiting.

Walking in the corridor, going to your rooms, she asked, what room you two would want. You replied, hers. She replied, aight bet. 

"Welcome to my room, which looks like yours too, haha. Sorry it's kinda messy, I haven't cleaned. I've slept yesterday"

"Haha, funny were the same, that's why I picked yours cause mine is worst"

"Haha, let's do it now"

"Now?, you don't want to shower first?"

"In the shower?"

"Yes, shower first"

"Okay, let's go"

She striped naked in front of you, as if you two are in a long relationship. She removed each of her cloth naughty and while looking in your eyes. An adrenaline goes to your penis, while looking at her, it makes it hard, creating a bulge in your pants, you adjust to make her see it. 

"Wow, you want to huh"

"No, you want it more"

"Haha, I'll suck you dry"

"Oh really, I'll do it to you too"

Fully naked, she walked towards you, she grabbed her hands and guided it to her cute breast, she chuckled from your touch and it made her seize like your touch electrified her. 

"Please be gentle, this is my first"

"It's my first too Hanni"

"So we're beginner's haha"

"Really beginner's, I don't have a condom on me, so we're lock on toucher each other "

"Huh? locked? wdym locked, fuck me raw, creampie me full, I don't even care anymore, I just want you, your cock in me, please"

"Alright, alright, chill I just don't want things to escalate too quickly"

"Don't bother, I am on pills anyway, I am actually an, no I just have a work that needs us to be on pills"

"Oh, that's neat. I'll make your wish come true then"

After your last word, she grabbed your pants, removing it to expose your big erect penis to her. She was excited, happy, and the smile on her face was apparent.

"Oh my god, yes please I want this cock on me now"

"Wait, open the shower first, I don't want you to smell my smelly penis"

"I don't care, I'll sniff it more"

"Your disgusting, and it's so hot"

"Haha, you're right. That's kinda far now, feel like we're roleplaying or something, let's just fuck you know"

"Yeah, haha, can I see your pussy?"

"Yeah, sorry I haven't shaved yet, didn't expect this to happen in my vacation, and I wasn't expecting to go beaching too"

"It's perfectly fine, it's better anyway hygiene"

You touch her first, making her angry.

"Hey, you touch my pussy first? really"

"Huh, I, sorry, alright, alright you're the pilot"

"Nah its fine but I want to suck your dick first"

"Okay, I'll clean it now"

After you washed your cock, she grabbed it without mentioning it.

"Aw, it hurts, just be gentle"

"Sorry, I'll suck it gently, I promise"

She handjobs you first while having a staring contest at hers, she wanted to see if it would hurt when she went fast, but it did5, it just makes you feel a thing.

"Slow down a bit, I'll gonna cum so fast from that"

"Alright, I'll suck it now"

"Okay"

She kissed your penis first, then slowly put it to her cute mouth. At first it was difficult, her mouth was too small for your penis to enter but slowly she adjusted to your size, you also helped her in making sure everything was going great, and gently.

"Ugh, argh, ugh, gulp"

She was sucking but because neither of you have this experience, it was going slow.

"Um, Hanni, I think your sucking isn't great"

She removed her mouth form you dick to speak 

"Is it?"

"You should gag more, put it more inside of your mouth, like this(showing a picture from the net).

She slapped your phone.

"Are you saying I am not good?"

"Well, no, but maybe, sorry I just want you to experience this fully"

"Okay, I get you, I'll do what in the picture is"

She adjusted more, allowing your length to enter her mouth, your big cock now is full of saliva, and she is gagging from every downshift she does. The scene is magical, a cute girl you just met yesterday is now gagging from your cock. 

"Yes, just like that Hanni, your doing it better now"

"Gag, really" happy Hanni while her mouth is full

You are now reaching your point, you tapped her shoulders to alert her, she winked and shook her head approving your hot cum to shoot in her mouth, not a second after that you shot your cum to her mouth walls, painting it white, marking her as yours.

"Yes, ugh, ugh just like that Hanni, your amazing" 

She swallowed all your cum, and made a smile looking at your tired body.

"Hey, we haven't started the fucking yet, but your tired already, let's shower then go to my bed"

"Okay"

You two showered like a married couple, soaping each other, rubbing each other, making sure every part is clean cause tonight would be the best meal you will be eating. She pissed accidentally while you were soaping her pussy part.

"Oh, sorry I pissed"

"Damn, that's hot, like your pee is not, well actually it is hot to get pissed, the smell though"

"Hmm so you like getting pissed by"

After one last water, you take a towel to give it to her but she grabs you making your bodies touch each other and then rubs the towel to dry you off. After that, she held your hand, and followed her steps to her room. She closed her binds, turned the lights to comfy, and made the bed more presentable.

"It's your turn now" she said

"Okay"

She jumps to the bed, exposing her body to you, you crawl slowly making her excited, she's like the queen bee getting her worker to give what she wants. You first got close to her face.

"You know, we haven't kissed yet"

"Oh god, your right, let's do it"

You get close to her, attempting a normal kiss, but she doesn't do that, she wants to taste you. Exchanging saliva while kissing and sucking her mouth, she also does it. After a solid 5 minutes of sucking each other though. She breaks it.

"Your such a good kisser"

"You too"

Laughing at each other, but while laughing your hands in like a snake, wanting to bite its prey, but in this case the prey is her pussy. She reacted from your touch, making a cute sound of ouch. She nodded to show that she's ready, ready to get plates on, to get divine on, to be feast on. So you slowly head to her pussy, the aroma and smell that you thought would be different, but a love smell is what you experienced. Her grown hair is so cute, it looks better with it. You've already touched it and feel the slimy gooey leaking from it, this is it she's wet not from the shower, but from your touch, you wanted it, you want her soup, you want to lick the tip, the hole, the glory of womanhood. So you work on it, shoving your mouth to her pussy, first in her clitoris, from your research the best way is a star way, from left to the top then to the left, next to the bottom then go back to the left.

"Ugh, hmmm, yes Y/N, eat me like that, savour from me, do you like that baby, yes ughhh"

The noise from her only fuels your lust, so you change your area now to her vagina, it's tight, and you can feel a blockway for her hole, it is said as her hymen, and the one who breaks it is the one who is first. You now changed the tactic from star shape to, licking like it's a nutella jar. Each lick, each suck made her high, as if she could fly in the sky.

"Oh my godddd, why are you good at this, it is ahhhh, true that, ughhh you didn't have, ahhhhh yess right there babe, yes lick that and suck that ughhh, girlfriend before?, oh my god I am cumming, keep is up"

She releases her cum to you, making you suck her more, tasting her love juices which are sweet.

Both of you are satisfied with each other, but it's not done yet. You tossed your body next to her, she hugged you.

"Thank you for this wonderful experience Y/N, this isn't in my vacation plan but thank god it happened" 

"You too, Hanni, I didn't know this would happened, this vacation is really something else, I just wanna spend my day and night with you"

"Please, we should do this everyday now until we both go back"

"I promise Hanni, we will do it every night"

"Thank you Y/N, I fucking love you, sorry for my language, can we fuck now"

"No worries, I don't mind it. We can if you want"

After your last words, she gets up, recharges like a fast charge phone. She towers you in the bed, putting her body to yours in a riding position.

"Is this a good position, search it up"

"Yes, I want to see you, and I want to kiss you while we're fucking"

"That's sounds hot, I'll put it in now, please be gentle with me"

"I promise Hanni, I'll be gentle"

This wasn't the case, from the very first move, Hanni was rough, immediately breaking her hymen and screaming like she got stabbed in a good way.

"Oh my godd, yesss fuck me like that"

"Wait, Hanni your too rough"

"I can't help it, break me Y/N, make me your cumdumped, fuck me both holes"

She's mind breaking already, just from one insert of your cock to her, she would obey what you do, and everything she says is what you're doing. 

"Ugh, ugh, their hit me their, yes"

"God damn Hanni, I wanna fuck you to the brim so hard"

"Please Y/N, please make it happen"

The fucking if fucking, same position but both of you now is working towards the same goal, breaking each other to the top. Making a mess, like a tornado has come by. Every trust you gave, she gave back, every move you make, she moves back, the gentleness from both of you isn't showing, then a couple more moves both of you are now reaching your point.

"Y/N, I am gonna cum"

"Hanni, me too"

"Let's do it together"

"Alright"

"Ughhhh yes Y/N, fill me fill me fill me"

"Hanni your squeezing me so hard, ughhh Yes"

Cumming to each other was a great pleasure, but after it you both slammed to the bed, she was on top of you.

"This is amazing Hanni, I can't wait to do it again and again and again"

"Again and again, yess I love you so much"

"I love you too"

The night ends with both of you exchanging love notes, kissing each other's forehead but you're not done yet.

"Hanni, I have a question"

"Yes babe, what it is"

"Are you the Hanni from Newjeans?"

The end.

A/N: Wrote this while Wifi was gone so bare the wrong grammars lol, btw check my other story staring Hanni too in AFF link in my bio, would also post this story there, thanks! A/N: If my Wifi stops again, I might write another, who knows maybe I'll continue this story.

[rivkae-winters]

Edit: the app launched and Is down- I have the initial apology video in a post here and I’m working on getting a full archive of their TikTok up ASAP. I’m letting the rest of this post remain since I do still stand by most of it and also don’t like altering things already in circulation.

Warning for criticism and what I’d consider some harsh to outright mean words:

So I’ve just been made aware of the project known of as ‘lore.fm’ and I’m not a fan for multiple reasons. For one this ‘accessibility’ tool complicates the process of essentially just using a screen reader (something native to all I phones specifically because this is a proposed IOS app) in utterly needless and inaccessible ways. From what I have been seeing on Reddit they have been shielding themselves (or fans of the project have been defending them) with this claim of being an accessibility tool as well to which is infuriating for so many reasons.

I plan to make a longer post explaining why this is a terrible idea later but I’ll keep it short for tonight with my main three criticisms and a few extras:

1. Your service requires people to copy a url for a fic then open your app then paste it into your app and click a button then wait for your audio to be prepared to use. This is needlessly complicating a process that exists on IOS already and can be done IN BROWSER using an overlay that you can fully control the placement of.

2. This is potentially killing your own fandom if it catches on with the proposed target market of xreader smut enjoyers because of only needing the link as mentioned above. You don’t have to open a fic to get a link this the author may potentially not even get any hits much less any other feedback. At least when you download a pdf you leave a hit: the download button is on the page with the fic for a reason. Fandom is a self sustaining eco system and many authors get discouraged and post less/even stop writing all together if they get low interaction.

3. Maybe we shouldn’t put something marketed as turning smut fanfic into audio books on the IOS App Store right now. Maybe with KOSA that’s a bad idea? Just maybe? Sarcasm aside we could see fan fiction be under even more legal threat if minors use this to listen to the content we know they all consume via sites like ao3 (even if we ask them not to) and are caught with it. Auditory content has historically been considered much more obscene/inappropriate than written content: this is a recipe for a disaster and more internet regulations we are trying to avoid.

I also have many issues with the fact that this is obviously redistributing fanfiction (thus violating the copyright we hold over our words and our plots) and removing control the author should have over their content and digital footprint. Then there is the fact that even though the creator on TikTok SAYS you can email to have your fic ‘excluded’ based on the way the demo works (pasting a link) I’m gonna assume that’s just to cover her ass/is utter bullshit. I know that’s harsh but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck it’s probably a duck.

I am all for women in stem- I’ve BEEN a woman in Stem- but this is not a cool girl boss moment. This is someone naive enough to think this will go over well at best or many other things (security risks especially) at worst.

In conclusion for tonight: I hope this person is a troll but there is enough hype and enough paid for web domains that I don’t think that’s the case. There are a litany of reasons every fanfic reader and writer should be against something like this existing and I’ll outline them all in several other posts later.

Do not email their opt out email address there is no saying what is actually happening with that data and it is simply not worth the risks it could bring up. I hate treating seemingly well meaning people like potential cyber criminals but I’ve seen enough shit by now that it’s better to be safe than sorry. You’re much safer just locking all your fics to account only. I haven’t yet but I may in the future if that is the only option.

If anyone wants a screen reader tutorial and a walk through of my free favorites as well as the native IOS screen reader I can post that later as well. Sorry for the heavy content I know it’s not my normal fare.

[lkblackham]

You know

Every time I say I'm going to Do A Thing, I wind up somehow NOT Doing That Thing. It's like a curse.

Anyway, I told myself I would finish the next pages for No Time To Apologize and then I wrote a little short story about Atash and Emmrich reuniting after this exchange (thanks so much AGAIN to @draco-illius-noctis for the lovely letter, I will never get over it (clearly)) and then decided I'd add a li'l illustration.

Which then turned out to be not so li'l. But that's just how it goes sometimes. You find enjoyment in something and you stay up until 3 am working on it. And that's actually very okay.

Story is under the cut, and over here on AO3. It might be the most sickeningly, cloyingly, tooth-rotting sweet thing I've ever made. I have no regrets.

A Little Homecoming

Atash was waiting in front of the eluvian.

 She had been waiting since she had woken up, about an hour ago. Maybe two hours. Two and half. Honestly, she'd stopped keeping track. Lucanis had tried to cajole her into coming back to the kitchen for her breakfast, but she would not be cajoled. Not by food, at least. She had been forced to make a few running trips to the privy and back. But bladders were not to be trifled with, and she would be mortified if she accidentally wet herself in front of her husband.

Because that's who she was waiting for: Emmrich. Her (technically not yet in the eyes of the law but still) husband. After a whole month, the Mourn Watch had finally decided they were done with him and Manfred, and they could return home. To her. 

To them. 

Atash ran her hands over her belly, a nervous habit she had been developing over the past few weeks. It was like she had to keep checking the kid was still in there. The midwife had told her she was about four and a half months along - she hadn’t even known she was pregnant until she was about three months in. As it was, the bump was just now becoming visible, but not in the most ‘obviously with child’ way. If she slouched, she just looked like she’d eaten too many pies. Not exactly “glowing”. 

How would Emmrich react, she wondered? The last time he had seen her, he had literally just found out she was pregnant. They had been trapped in a tomb somewhere in the deeper levels of the Necropolis at the time, so stress had been high, but he had been ecstatic. And terrified. Maybe a little nauseated. Just as she had been. And then he had been forced to stay behind to help the Mourn Watch clean up the mess and she had been forced to return to the Lighthouse on her own, because damn it she was leader of the Veilguard and pregnant on top of that, so staying down in the Necropolis with Emmrich was completely out of the question. 

Yeah, she still hadn't quite forgiven Vorgoth and Myrna for that. Or Brunhilde Ziegenfuss, the wayward necromancer who had been the whole reason they had been trapped in that tomb. The minute Atash gave birth and could walk properly again, that bitch was in for it. 

But not now. Now, Atash was waiting. Now, today, finally, FINALLY, Emmrich and Manfred were coming home. He had said so in his last letter, which had been uncharacteristically sloppy and stuffed into a torn envelope - as if he had written and mailed it off in a great hurry, on his way out the door to the Crossroads. 

"I will be there before the noon bell." That was what he had scrawled haphazardly on the paper. "I will not spend one more minute than I have to bereft of your company. I will not lose one more second with our child. I AM COMING HOME. And there is absolutely NOTHING anyone in the Mourn Watch can do about it. I'll gladly subject myself to a tribunal if I must. But I will not leave you again. I REFUSE."

Atash still had that letter, tucked into her sash. She had been taking it out and rereading it, to be certain she had it right and didn't just dream it up out of longing.

The surface of the mirror rippled. Atash's heart leapt into her throat. 

An arm appeared, shining with layers of gold bangles. Then a shoulder, clad in a beautiful old green and red coat. Then, a face - the most lovely face she had ever seen, with sharp cheekbones and a regally hooked nose and deep, warm hazel eyes that glimmered in the eluvian light. 

Emmrich stepped out onto the dais, followed closely by Manfred. He looked disheveled - which, for him, meant he hadn't bothered with his collar pin that morning and his hair had been hurriedly combed into a slightly messier version of his usual coiffure. 

She hardly cared. He looked as he always did, which to Atash's eyes was absolutely fucking perfect. 

He immediately caught sight of her, and before anything could be said, he practically leapt down the steps and caught her up in a tight hug, burying his face in her neck. Atash clutched him to her body, nose in his hair, nearly brought to tears by the overwhelming scent of him - sage and green moss and something floral she could never place - so sorely missed all these weeks apart. 

A tiny, distant voice in her head pointed out how much like her terrible romance serials this all was. She threw it away without a second thought. *Fuck that*, she thought, *I earned this. WE earned this.*

“Darling.” Emmrich sighed against her skin. “Mein Schatz, Mein Liebling, dearest most beloved Atash. I will never leave you again. Not as long as I draw breath, or for whatever comes afterwards.”  

“I'd tell you to never make promises like that,” she murmured into his hair, “but I think I might actually just hold you to that this time.” 

As if to emphasize her point - or perhaps just to remind them of their presence - she felt a terrific kick from the baby, much bigger than any she had ever had thus far, enough to elicit a small, involuntary “oof!” from her.  

Emmrich jolted back, startled. Atash laughed, somewhat breathless (the kid had kicked her right in the bladder again). “Looks like I'm not the only one who's excited to see you.” 

He took a small step back, looking down at her stomach - at the small, round bump that hadn't been there when they'd last seen each other. His face filled with a tenderness, a worry and joy, that defied mere words. He tentatively laid his hand on the bump, as if afraid his touch might hurt the fragile little life growing inside her. 

Atash gently took both his hands and placed them on her belly, laying her hands over his. 

“They're small.” she said softly. “The midwife said she wasn’t sure how big the baby will get, but they probably won’t be the same size as a full-blooded Qunari.”

“That's alright,” Emmrich spoke barely above a trembling whisper, voice filled with awe. “They're healthy. You're healthy. That's… that's all that matters.”

The baby moved under his hand, as if responding to his voice. His breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward, chin trembling, marveling at the tiny little life he had helped create moving under his fingers. 

Atash felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “The midwife also said the baby can hear us, a little bit. I've been trying to learn lullabies to sing at night, but… well.” she managed a rueful chuckle. “I think I'm scaring the poor kid more than anything.” She raised a hand to the crown of Emmrich's head, running her fingers through his hair. “It's good you're here now. You can take up lullaby duties.” 

He laughed, voice cracking a little. “What makes you think I'll fare any better in that regard?” 

“I've heard you humming around the Lighthouse. You've been holding out on me and I intend to rectify that, Messere Volkarin.” 

Manfred’s head poked into view over Emmrich's hands, goggle lenses whirling around as they always did when he was excited. “Rook!” He hissed jovially. “Bay-bee?” 

Atash laughed. “How could I forget about you? Here-” she took his large gloved hand and placed it right by Emmrich's on her stomach. “Can you feel anything?” 

“No!” Manfred looked dismayed. Or as dismayed as a skeleton could look. “I can't! Is oh-kay?” 

“Oh, dear Manfred.” Emmrich regained some of his composure, patting his ward’s hand. “The baby is alright. You simply can't feel them, being only bone.” 

“Awww.” Manfred's eyes seemed to sag a little in their sockets. 

“Awww.” Atash wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in for a bony hug. “I know you probably can't feel this either, but I'm just so glad you're here” 

“I like hugs.” Manfred said into her shoulder, patting her back. “Feel good in here.” He lightly poked the spot between her shoulder blades, right over her heartbeat. 

Atash's valiant efforts to contain her raging hormones finally failed, the tears escaping her eyes and streaming down her cheeks. 

“Oh, fuck it.” She hugged him even more tightly, fully giving in to the weeping. “That’s adorable.” 

“I know.” Manfred said modestly, patting her on the back again. 

“Good. You should know that.” she sobbed. “Don't let anyone tell you different.”

“Oh, darling…,” Emmrich embraced her again, transferring her sobbing form from poor Manfred's now-soaked lapel to his shoulder. “You’ve had such a rough go of it, haven't you?” 

“I-it’s okay.” She sniffed. “I'm fine, I just….” She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. “I missed you. Both of you. So much.” 

“And we missed you, dearest. Terribly. Every day. Every hour.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Taash’s voice pierced through their little bubble, bringing them both back to reality. “You're crying again? I thought you'd dried yourself out yesterday when you saw that dog that was too damn small.” 

Their language was rough, but there was an obvious note of teasing in their voice. 

“That dog WAS too damn small.” Atash sobbed into Emmrich's coat. “They fit in my hand. I could've squished them. THAT'S TOO DAMN SMALL, TAASH.” 

“Oh dear,” Emmrich chuckled, rubbing sympathetic circles on her back.

“Emmrich.” Lucanis appeared at Taash's side, still wearing his heavily stained cook’s apron. “You came back just in time. I've been trying to get her to eat. She hasn't had anything since dinner last night.” 

Emmrich's hand stilled on Atash's back. 

“Rook,” he said, quietly, “is this true?” 

She sighed, hiccuping a little as her weeping calmed down. “Emmrich, I can skip one meal-” 

“Absolutely not.” Emmrich's voice had gone full Disapproving Professor. He drew back from Atash, hands on her shoulders, looking her square in the eye. “Atash, it was one thing when you were on your own, forgetting meals and barely sleeping-” 

(Taash had the grace to look at least a little abashed when Atash threw them a withering glance over her shoulder. They had been sending cute little ‘updates’ to Emmrich that involved distinctly unflattering drawings of Atash napping in random spots around the Lighthouse.) 

“- but you cannot do that now. Not anymore. I do realise,” he said, catching her about to argue, “that this is your body and I would never be so crass as to assume I had any right to tell you what to do with it. But….” He paused. Took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, it was with plaintive appeal. “I know what your mother taught you, about using your body to help others. But… as long as you carry our child, this is no longer just your body, dearest. How you care for yourself, is how you care for them.” he sighed. “I… I know you're healthy, and they're healthy. But… you skipped meals so often, in the past, and now…”

Atash was aware of the uncomfortable shifting behind her, as Taash and Lucanis found themselves bearing witness to a very personal conversation.

Guilt twisted in her gut. This was a man who remembered, all too vividly, how it felt to be poor and hungry. Not just hungry - starving. That was not something you ever forgot. There was no way, in this life or the next, that he would ever allow his wife or unborn child to be subjected to even a fraction of that suffering. Not if he could do anything about it. 

Even if he might be going a little bit far with it right now. He had literally just come back from a month away - he could be forgiven for doing a little overcorrecting. 

She bumped his forehead gently with hers. 

“Okay, Emmrich. You're right.” she kissed the crook of his nose. “Let's go eat.” 

He let out a breath, squeezing her shoulders. “Thank you, darling.” 

Arm in arm, they followed Lucanis and Taash to the kitchen, Manfred bouncing along behind them. 

[sathereal]

WITH OR WITHOUT YOU — S. GOJO

❝ sleight of hand and twist of fate ; on a bed of nails she makes me wait ❞

PAIRING — kingdom au ; peasant!gojo and princess!reader

SERIES SUMMARY — sneaking out was something y/n would never do, not in a million years. she followed the rules without question, always striving to embody the grace and dignity expected of her. raised to serve her kingdom with honor, she never imagined straying from the path laid out for her. that was before she met a charming peasant named satoru. now, y/n finds herself torn between duty and desire, between the life she was born into and the one her heart quietly longs for. to follow the rules would mean security and legacy. to follow satoru would mean freedom and love. for the first time in her life, y/n must choose.

SERIES CW — 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut (eventual), forbidden romance, emotional repression, hurt/comfort, angst, trauma response, blood/injury, violence, class divide, protective gojo, slightly manipulative behavior, power imbalance, reader has a vagina, longing, identity concealment, arranged marriage themes, war references, emotional vulnerability, corruption, heavy tension. (may update)

chapter one

SUMMARY — the softness of an inexperienced princess and the ruggedness of a runaway warrior collide after y/n is rescued from the chaos of a starving, angry kingdom. in the quiet aftermath, something unfamiliar begins to stir—something that shakes the foundation of who she’s always been. as tension and connection grow between them, y/n finds herself questioning not only the expectations placed upon her, but the very nature of her devotion to them.

WC — 7.5k

authors note — thank you so much for considering reading!!! i haven't written fanfic, or been on tumblr, since 2021 so i apologize if the writing isn't enjoyable/is bad. i have no idea if it's a good idea for my first piece back on here to belong to a series but whatever. i truly hope you enjoy. the smut isn't going to be in this chapter, but it will eventually come up in the series!

masterlist (wip) ; series masterlist (wip)

y/n’s silk slippers, emerald green to match the adornments in her hair, brushed softly against the cool brick of the pathway leading into a garden of blooming morning glories and vibrant spring flowers. the rising sun cast a golden warmth over the garden, coaxing a small but deeply needed smile to her face. spring had finally arrived.

the long-awaited season broke through the cold grip of a bitter winter, a winter that had cloaked her kingdom in despair. the village beyond the castle walls had suffered greatly. death and disease had swept through the land, leaving behind sorrow that clung to every home, every heart. though warmth had always been at y/n’s fingertips, tucked safely away in the castle, her heart ached relentlessly for her people.

"your highness, the queen has requested a change of clothes for you." the faint yet familiar voice called out. y/n turned to see her lady-in-waiting approaching with careful steps. "she said what was picked out for you was too extravagant."

after offering a gentle smile, y/n looked down at her dress. a gown of cream silk, soft to the touch, that shimmered like morning light. layers of sheer fabric floated with the wind, and golden floral embroidery bloomed across the bodice and sleeves as if it had been kissed by the sun. tiny pearls adorned the neckline, and at her waist, a delicate belt of gold thread was fastened with polished emeralds, each one glinting like dewdrops in the early light.

"i dare say mother is right, kasumi," she said softly, fingers grazing the intricate stitching, "yet i am saddened. a bright dress for a bright day... spring is finally blossoming."

y/n stepped closer to her beloved companion, the scent of the garden curling gently between them.

kasumi’s expression shifted. "i wouldn’t quite say a bright day, considering the reasons for the village having an audience with the king."

y/n dropped her head slightly, knowing that kasumi was right. the troubles of last season had stirred deep unrest in the villagers, but she held faith that the king would make a just decision. he had always done right by his people, so why would he stop now?

but more than that, the queen wanted her daughter to be seen. to walk among the people, to smile through sorrow, to remind them that even after such a harsh winter, there was still gentleness, still light. the princess was to be that light, a promise that spring’s grace had returned to them.

the pressure of what y/n was about to endure—the thought of seeing the village’s suffering with her own eyes—wrapped tightly around her chest. the anticipation made her steps slower, heavier. she had seen sorrow from the castle windows, but to walk beside it... to meet the eyes of those who had endured such loss... that was something else entirely.

starting her way back into the castle, y/n gestured for kasumi to take her arm.

“thank you for all you do for me, kasumi,” she said softly, the corners of her mouth lifting with effort. “you’re truly my greatest friend.”

kasumi’s hand slipped into the crook of her arm with ease, her presence steady and grounding.

“and you are stronger than you know,” she replied. “whatever you face today, you won’t be alone.”

they continued their quiet walk, the morning light casting golden patterns across the stone floor, as if the sun itself wished to lend its warmth to the princess’s burden. the distant hum of the awakening castle just beginning to stir. petals danced in the breeze behind them, and for that brief walk, the weight of duty felt just a little lighter.

gojo had started his morning the way he always did. miserable. he hadn’t been in the kingdom long, having made his move there just last summer. the bitter, sorrowful winter that followed didn’t give him much hope for a future in the place, but it was all he had. running from the past didn’t leave many choices. so he kept his head down, swallowed whatever trouble came his way, and did his best to blend in, to survive. maybe one day, eventually, make something of himself here.

but every morning still felt like a weight. cold, uncertain, and heavy with the feeling that he didn’t quite belong. he pulled on his clothes for the day, his bland, poorly stitched linen that hung awkwardly on his frame. the fabric itched slightly at the collar, and the seams threatened to unravel at his elbows, but it did the job. no one in the village cared about appearance. not in times like these.

his job at the most popular tavern in town, kaisen, was modest but honest. he scrubbed dishes, swept floors, and occasionally helped serve customers. it wasn’t much, but it was quiet. safe. and for someone like gojo, quiet and safe was all he could ask for. at least, for now. 

on his way to work, gojo noticed something was off.

the town was louder than usual, buzzing with uneasy energy. it wasn’t the usual morning chatter or vendors setting up stalls. no, this was something different. even the weak and ill, who usually stayed tucked away in shadows or doorways, were out in the streets, their voices rising with urgency. it piqued his curiosity.

he slowed his pace, then veered off his path to work, deciding a detour wouldn’t hurt. weaving through the growing crowd, he tried to catch fragments of conversation, eyes scanning the restless faces around him. with every step, the tension thickened.

something wasn’t right.

people jostled for a better view of the road that led to the kingdom gates, and gojo’s gut twisted with unease. he didn’t like crowds, it had too many eyes, too much risk. whatever this was, it was big and maybe, just maybe, worth knowing.

gojo’s shoulders tensed as he pushed past a group of villagers, murmurs slipping through the rising noise like threads waiting to be pulled.

“they said the princess is coming” someone blurted from the crowd.

gojo narrowed his eyes. a princess? out here? it didn’t make sense. royals didn’t walk among commoners, especially not during times like these, when the kingdom was still hurt from winter’s chokehold.

he moved a little closer, staying quiet, blending into the worn faces and layered clothes around him. another voice spoke up, bitter and low.

“hope, they say. like hope is gonna feed our children or fix our homes.”

gojo’s gaze shifted toward the road. he didn’t believe in royals. not their smiles, not their charity. but if one really was coming out here, he wanted to see for himself.

that’s when he saw her.

she moved through the crowd with quiet grace, but what caught gojo off guard wasn’t her face, it was how plain she looked.

too plain for a royal.

she wore a fitted lilac gown, simple in design, nothing crafted to draw the eye or demand attention. a single silver belt cinched her waist, the only ornament on the entire ensemble. her hair was styled simply, too. no elaborate braids or jewels, just a thin silver band that matched the belt and the delicate silver threading of her slippers.

gojo blinked, trying to reconcile the image in front of him.

no guards announcing her presence, just following her every move. no fanfare. no lavish silk or golden embroidery. just a girl who looked more like a ghost of nobility than a princess, and yet, despite the simplicity, there was something about her. something still…untouchable. it brought confusion to gojo. a royal dressed like that, walking among them? he couldn’t make sense of it.

some of the villagers scoffed at the sight of her.

“who are they fooling?” a man muttered, arms crossed, eyes sharp with resentment. “they lived well while we starved and died.”

others nodded in agreement, their faces worn and hollow, unmoved by the softness in y/n’s eyes or the simplicity of her gown. to them, it wasn’t humility. it wasn’t hope. it was a mockery. a silk-wrapped gesture meant to feel human, but it stung instead, like rubbing salt into wounds that hadn’t healed. gojo stood silently among them, the voices rising around him like a tide of quiet anger. he didn’t speak, but he listened. they didn’t see a princess bringing spring. they saw a girl playing dress-up in sorrow she’d never tasted. and yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

gojo didn’t move, he just watched her, standing in the thick of the crowd, heart drumming a little faster for reasons he didn’t understand. his jaw tensed as the villagers’ words swirled around him. they were sharp, bitter, deserved. he couldn’t blame them. not after what they’d been through. not after what he had seen.

winter had torn through the village like a curse, ripping families apart, leaving more graves than full bellies. and while the people suffered, the castle remained warm. untouched. distant. he should’ve felt the same anger they did, in a way. so why now—looking at her in that plain lilac gown, with nothing but silence—did something twist in his chest?

maybe it was the way she looked at the crowd. not above them. not through them. she looked at them. not like a royal, but like someone who felt something, but feelings didn’t fix hunger and kindness didn’t bury the dead. gojo let out a slow breath, gaze narrowing.

she doesn’t know this life, he reminded himself. she doesn’t know what it costs to survive. and yet…something about her still made him hesitate.

before gojo could make sense of the feeling pulling at him, the sharp sound of trumpets cut through the air. the crowd stirred, voices dropped and heads turned. the announcement was unmistakable. it was the return of the army.

y/n’s brother, the crown prince, was coming home. and with him, the soldiers who had survived the war against ryomen sukuna, the ruthless leader of the opposing kingdom. the war that had drained the kingdom dry. gojo’s stomach twisted.

it all made sense now. the famine. the shortages. the silence from the palace while villagers buried their loved ones and rationed crusts of bread. everything had been fed to the war effort. every coin, every prayer, every promise, and now the victors were marching home.

the crowd began to shift, pressing toward the road. some craned their necks in search of familiar faces, others stood still, arms crossed, eyes filled with quiet rage. joy wasn’t the emotion that settled in the air, it was weariness, bitterness. gojo didn’t move, not yet. he glanced back at y/n. her posture was graceful, but her eyes, they weren’t celebrating either.

the rumble of hooves followed the trumpets, growing louder with each passing second. armored riders crested the hill in formation, the gleaming silver against the morning light. banners bearing the royal crest fluttered high above them, proud and pristine. but pride was not what filled the street.

gojo could feel it, like a low hum beneath his feet. the crowd wasn’t cheering. there were no songs, no applause. just shuffling feet, tightened jaws, and eyes that had seen too much to forget. he watched a mother clutch her child closer. an old man turned his back entirely. soldiers returned with medals and polished boots, but the people greeted them with silence. this wasn’t a homecoming. this was a reminder, a reminder of the price paid. of the sons and daughters who didn’t come back. of the money funneled into battle while the villagers burned their furniture to stay warm.

he saw y/n again, standing at the edge of the road, her expression unreadable. calm, maybe. or just practiced. she didn’t wave. she didn’t smile. and for a moment, gojo wondered if she felt it too, that tension that sat like a storm cloud between the people and their protectors. he wasn’t sure if it made her foolish or brave, standing out here like this, but she didn’t look away and neither did he.

as the army drew nearer, y/n stepped forward from the crowd, alone, save for a few soldiers who kept a respectful distance. her back straight, hands folded gracefully before her, she looked every bit the image of royal composure. gojo noticed the slight lift of her chin. the way her fingers tensed around the fabric of her gown. a trumpet blared again, louder this time.

“presenting crown prince megumi fushiguro, heir to the throne, commander of the king’s guard, and defender of the realm.”

the name rang through the crowd. megumi. 

gojo committed it to memory without thinking. he barely had time to consider it before the first screams pierced the air. not from joy, but grief.

a woman fell to her knees, her hands clutched over her mouth. beside her, a man stood frozen, eyes searching the procession for someone who never returned. gojo saw the realization spread across the crowd like frost: some would not be coming home. it was a quiet devastation, the kind gojo knew too well. the soldiers passed solemnly. faces were unreadable, eyes straight ahead, and then the prince appeared.

megumi rode at the front, sharp, poised, distant. he barely spared his sister a glance. gojo’s brows lowered slightly as he watched the prince ride past y/n, offering her no more than a flick of his gaze. no words. no warmth, just a silent dismissal, but she smiled anyway, just a small one. a respectful dip of her head, an offering of grace where none had been given. gojo couldn’t tell if it was for the people, for herself, or because she cared for her brother. then megumi addressed the crowd.

“to those who have lost family, i offer my deepest condolences,” he said, voice firm, carefully measured. “your loved ones fought bravely. they will be remembered.”

then he moved on. gojo stood still, arms crossed over his chest, something sharp curling in it. he said all the right words, gojo thought bitterly, but not one of them felt real. his eyes flicked back to y/n. she was still standing, still silent, the silver belt catching the light as the wind stirred her gown, and for the first time, he wondered what it cost to be her.

“that’s all you offer us?” the voice rang out, sharp and unafraid.

“after everything we sacrificed for this war?” the crowd rippled. heads turned. the man stepped forward, eyes burning. “your lack of empathy is appalling.”

a murmur grew into something louder, the frustration taking shape, grief turning to rage. more voices joined his, fueled by loss and hopelessness.

megumi didn’t flinch. he remained composed, expression unreadable, gaze fixed ahead as if the cries of the people weren’t meant for him, but the crowd didn’t fall silent. they turned to her.

“you’re well clothed, well fed, while we lay here in this state?”

“you’re all monsters.”

“you don’t deserve the crown. you deserve death, to be with the innocent people who were killed under your hand.”

gojo’s body stiffened. he could feel it, the way the energy shifted, sharp and dangerous, all of it aimed at her and she just stood there.

y/n didn’t cry. she didn’t shrink away. but her eyes, he saw it. the way they glossed, how her chest rose with a quiet, steadying breath. she wasn’t heartless, she wasn’t cold. she was enduring it. feeling it. the people couldn’t see it, blinded by the ache in their own hearts. all they could see was gold-stitched guilt and silver-threaded betrayal, but gojo saw her and for the first time in a long time, he felt something he thought he’d buried. the need to protect someone.

the crowd was moving now, not just yelling—inching closer and y/n, for all her composure, for all her quiet grace, now wore fear across her face like a veil. it was subtle, but unmistakable, her eyes wide, lips parted, body frozen in place. the guards reacted quickly, forming a barrier around her. swords drawn, stances firm but gojo could see the panic behind their discipline. there were too many people, too much grief turned into fire. 

megumi was gone. he had slipped into the castle, untouched, unmoved, whether out of ignorance or apathy, gojo didn’t know. maybe he hadn’t expected this. maybe he just didn’t care, but y/n was still here and suddenly, gojo couldn’t stay still anymore. the crowd surged, voices rising, hands reaching. and before he fully realized what he was doing, he was moving with them. not in anger, not in protest, but with purpose. a purpose to protect her.

he pushed past shoulders and outstretched arms. after ducking beneath someone, he reached her. y/n’s eyes locked on his for the briefest second, confused and terrified, but before she could speak, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“don’t scream,” he muttered.

then he ran. the guards didn’t even have time to stop him. they were locked in with the crowd, trying to hold back the storm. gojo ducked down an alley, moving fast, y/n’s weight light against him as her slippers skidded across stone.

what had he just gotten himself into? his heart thundered in his chest. a runaway, a peasant, now probably facing a jail sentence. but he didn’t stop, not when she was shaking. not when he could still hear the cries of the mob behind them.

they were miles from the kingdom now, hidden deep within the forest, where the air smelled of damp moss and the only sound was the rustling of leaves and their breath still catching up to them. y/n’s body trembled. not from the run, not entirely. the fear still clung to her skin like cold water.

she had known the people were uneasy. she expected grief, sorrow, maybe even coldness. but this? the hatred in their eyes, the accusations spat like venom, she hadn’t been prepared for that and now, she was alone. no guards. no brother. no familiar walls to shield her, just him. the stranger who had pulled her from the crowd like a storm dragging her off course. she sat a few feet away from him now, still catching her breath, gaze flicking to his face—and his eyes.

blue.

not the soft kind, but sharp, almost unnatural. they watched her with an ease that made her wary and yet they drew her in. he grinned suddenly, catching her stare.

“beautiful, aren’t i?” he said with a smirk, not the least bit shy about her lingering gaze.

her cheeks flushed with heat. she turned her face away, biting back a response. not from offense but from something else. something dangerous. she wasn’t used to feeling this.

he was handsome, undeniably so. toned in a way that didn’t make sense for someone who supposedly spent winter starving. his white hair stood out against the forest green, wild but not aged. he looked young, maybe only a few years older than her but something was off. there was a looseness in his posture, a confidence that didn’t match the villagers she’d met. he wasn’t afraid, that made her nervous.

deciding she needed to breathe, y/n lowered herself into the forest floor, the moss cool beneath her palms. her chest rose and fell in heavy, trembling waves, her body still recovering from the sprint and the sheer panic of it all. she could feel his gaze linger, but not unkindly, it was curious and sharp, and she wasn’t sure if that unsettled her more than the crowd had.

“who are you?” she asked finally, not looking at him, but not afraid of the answer either. her voice was quiet but firm. the princess was still in there, somewhere beneath the fear. there was a pause, deliberate. then, from beside her, came a voice far too relaxed for the situation.

“wouldn’t it be more exciting if i kept that to myself?” he said. “names have weight. and i get the sense you don’t give yours freely.”

y/n turned her head just enough to look at him directly. he reclined in the grass like a man without consequence, his arms behind his head, legs crossed loosely at the ankles. everything about him suggested detachment, but his eyes were alert. assessing.

“you brought me into unfamiliar territory without escort or permission,” she said coolly. “i believe i’ve earned at least a name.”

he grinned. “fair enough. it’s satoru.”

she studied him. “is that your given name?”

“it is,” he said, gaze still on the trees above them. “and before you ask, i have no titles, no house. just satoru.”

y/n gave a small, reserved nod. “very well, satoru.”

he turned his head toward her at the way she said his name carefully, almost musically. then, with a smirk, he added, “but if you’d rather call me something sweeter, i won’t complain.”

“i’ll manage,” she replied, lips pressing into a line.

“if you intend to use this situation for leverage,” she added, her voice even, “i warn you that i will not be easily manipulated.”

satoru sat up slightly, leaning forward just enough to catch her gaze.

“what would i even do with a princess?” he asked, his tone quieter now, a little less teasing. “i’m not here to ransom you or threaten you.”

“then why are you here?” she asked, genuine curiosity seeping through her formality.

he shrugged.

“rescuing royalty,” he said, voice low, eyes narrowing with amusement. “it’s a new hobby of mine.”

y/n studied him for a long, quiet moment. he was charming but not careless, not entirely. there was something practiced in the way he deflected, how he kept just enough of himself hidden beneath easy smiles and sharp eyes.

“where are you really from, satoru?”

her tone was polite but expectant. not a demand, not yet. his grin didn’t falter, but his eyes flicked away, just briefly.

“somewhere that doesn’t matter anymore,” he said.

she didn’t believe that but before she could press further, he shifted, resting on one elbow and tilting his head toward her with a casual curiosity that barely masked his deflection.

“then let me ask you something, princess,” he said, voice low. “why were you at war?”

the question hung in the air. it was not a challenge, not quite, but loaded all the same.

she inhaled slowly, trying to quiet the ache in her chest. “to protect the kingdom,” she said carefully. “to stop sukuna from advancing further. we couldn’t afford to lose more than we already had.”

he nodded slightly. not agreeing, nor was he disagreeing.

“and still,” he said, glancing up through the trees, “the streets were lined with hunger. the faces in the crowd, they didn’t look like people who’d been defended.”

y/n’s gaze lowered. “after all the starvation, there weren’t many people left to defend.”

the silence that followed was heavier than before.

“war always takes more than it gives,” satoru murmured. “even when it’s necessary.”

his tone was softer now. not mocking, not cold, almost understanding. y/n turned toward him slightly, studying his profile, how his eyes didn’t quite meet hers now, how something behind his calm seemed distant.

“you’ve seen it, haven’t you?” she asked. “war.”

he didn’t answer and that, somehow, was answer enough.

y/n found herself far more intrigued by the stranger who called himself satoru than she cared to admit. there was something about him. his evasiveness, the casual charm laced with shadow, the way he said everything and nothing at once. she wanted to know more. needed to. there were so many unasked questions, so many possibilities lingering beneath that sly grin.

who was he, really? a mercenary? a runaway soldier? could he have even been a spy for sukuna? the thought sent a chill down her spine. before she could follow it any further, a sharp throb in her ankle pulled her back to the present. her breath hitched. the adrenaline had masked it until now, but the pain was rising steadily. she shifted her weight slightly and winced.

looking down, she noticed a tear near the hem of her gown, the delicate fabric stained with small streaks of crimson. she must have cut herself, perhaps on a branch or a jagged stone during the escape. the gash wasn’t deep, but it was raw and bleeding. her jaw tightened, more from frustration than pain. she hated showing weakness, especially in front of someone she barely knew but satoru was already glancing over, brows lifting with a flicker of concern.

“is everything alright?” satoru’s voice broke the silence, low but laced with concern, maybe. he inched closer, head tilting just slightly as he looked at her more carefully.

y/n immediately shifted, pulling her dress around her and covering the wound with her hand.

“yes,” she said quickly, too quickly. he didn’t believe her for a second.

with an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes and closed the remaining distance between them, his movements unbothered, almost careless, especially for someone addressing royalty.

“you really think i haven’t seen worse?” he muttered, brushing her hand aside.

“excuse me—” she began, eyes narrowing.

“relax, i’m not trying to offend your royal pride,” he said, already kneeling to inspect the cut. “just making sure you’re not dying or anything.”

he scanned the wound with practiced ease. it wasn’t deep, just messy and scraped raw. he let out a silent breath of relief. the last thing he needed was for the princess of shibuya to bleed out in some forgotten part of the forest because of him. he was already in enough trouble for dragging her here without permission. if anyone saw this, it’d look bad. really bad.

"you’ll live,” he said, glancing up at her with a crooked smirk. “but don’t worry, i won’t take credit for the dramatic rescue and your injury. that would be greedy.”

“you left her in that chaos?” the king’s voice thundered through the private chamber, fury rising like a storm behind his eyes as he turned to megumi.

megumi stood rigid, jaw tight. he’d faced war. blood. death. but this—his father’s wrath—was something else entirely.

“i didn’t know it would turn that violent,” megumi said, voice even. “she had guards—”

“guards?” the king snapped, stepping forward. “you think a few swords would be enough to shield her from the rage of a starving kingdom?��

he laughed bitterly, but there was no humor in it—only disbelief. “you knew the state of the people. everyone in this part of the world does. and still, you walked away.”

megumi didn’t respond. he couldn’t.

“she’s never known violence,” the king continued, tone darkening. “never questioned her place, never defied an order. she’s lived her entire life tucked behind these walls, doing what was expected—what we asked of her.”

the king’s gaze bore into his son now, disappointment layered beneath the anger. “and you left her.”

he slammed his fist against the lacquered table, the crack of it echoing off the stone walls.

“this kingdom is barely holding on—once thriving, now on its knees before ryomen sukuna. and now? now we’re fielding marriage offers from lesser bloodlines just to salvage our standing.”

megumi’s fists clenched at his sides. he cursed himself, silently. for being careless. for underestimating the unrest. for leaving her alone, for being so unlike the king he was expected to become.

megumi had always been calculated and precise. it was what earned him command of the army, what made others trust him with strategy and lives. but now, standing under the heat of his father’s fury, he couldn’t help but wonder how hadn’t he seen this coming? or worse, maybe he had seen it and he just didn’t want to.

the truth clawed at the edges of his mind. over a year of bloodshed, march after march, watching comrades fall beside him, torn to pieces in battle. the screams, the silence that followed, the stench of death. it was all carved into him now. a permanent fixture, a sickness he’d stopped trying to cure. he didn’t want to read crowds anymore. didn’t want to anticipate the next riot or feel responsible for every life around him.

he just wanted to be home. in silence, in stillness, but even here, in the place he was raised, there was no comfort waiting for him.

only consequences.

as the tension in the chamber mounted, the doors burst open with a clang of steel. a guard rushed in, his face pale, chest heaving beneath his armor.

“your majesties,” he said, dropping to one knee. “i bring grave news.”

the king turned sharply. the queen, who had only just arrived at the threshold, froze mid-step.

the guard swallowed. “the princess…she’s missing.”

a silence fell so heavy it felt like the room had stopped breathing.

the queen’s expression crumbled, horror overtaking her features. “what?” she gasped, staggering forward. “no—no, that can’t be—how?” her voice broke as her hand flew to her mouth. “were you not with her? how could this have happened under your watch?”

the guard kept his eyes low. “there was unrest among the people. the crowd grew violent. we tried to hold them back, but in the chaos, she vanished. we’ve sent search parties beyond the gates.”

the queen turned to megumi then, her voice rising, desperate. “you were supposed to look after her. you left her out there.”

megumi’s fists clenched at his sides, jaw locked, eyes dark with something unspoken—but he said nothing.

the king didn’t speak either. he stood still, unnervingly so, but panic thundered behind his eyes. his daughter, his symbol of peace was gone. taken or lost, he didn’t know, but his heart sank with paralyzing thoughts of what could be happening to his only daughter.

“we’re making all possible efforts to locate her—” the guard began, voice tense.

“all of your efforts,” the king snarled, cutting him off, “had better bring her back.”

he turned sharply to megumi, his voice dropping into something colder. more final.

“as for you megumi, i want you out there with them. now. i don’t want to see your face in this palace again until your sister is found and returned alive.”

megumi opened his mouth, but the king didn’t wait for a response.

“we’ll be meeting with ryomen sukuna soon after,” he added, spitting the words out like venom before storming from the room, the doors slamming behind him.

the queen stood trembling, her hand pressed to her lips. her eyes shimmered with fear but she said nothing, only stared at the empty space where her husband had been.

megumi stood frozen, his thoughts racing.

why would father mention sukuna now? he wondered. why does y/n need to be here for that meeting?

then the realization hit him—sharp and sickening. a marriage proposal.

one of the offers the king had mentioned earlier. a political move to stabilize their faltering kingdom. a last resort, perhaps. or worse—something already in motion. megumi’s stomach twisted. he had seen what sukuna was capable of. he was more beast than man, a king built on cruelty, conquest, and power. and the thought of his sister standing beside that creature as a bride caused disgust to fill his body.

he clenched his jaw, the rage settling in his chest like fire. he would find her, and he would never let her be bound to a monster.

it had been hours since satoru had pulled her from the chaos. the forest around them had grown quieter, shadows stretching long between the trees, and with every passing moment, y/n’s anxiety deepened. the night would be approaching soon.

they were far from the castle, far from any path she recognized and no one had come for her. part of her was terrified to go back, to face the people, to feel their fury again. but she couldn’t stay out here forever, not in the woods, not as a fugitive from her own kingdom.

a soft rustle caught her attention. satoru had returned to the mossy clearing, his sleeves damp, hands slightly chilled from the spring water he’d used to clean the cut on her leg. he looked oddly thoughtful, gaze distant, as if turning something over in his mind.

maybe rescuing her hadn’t been a mistake. maybe this was the break he’d been waiting for. not a problem, but a chance. something good. maybe, just maybe, the king would reward him for his noble act. stranger things had happened.

her voice broke through his thoughts, soft and sincere.

“thank you, satoru.” she stretched her hand across the moss, fingers brushing the green, plush surface. “you’ve shown me nothing but kindness, even though we were strangers until today. i am truly grateful.”

he turned toward her slowly, catching her eyes. then his lips curled into that familiar, shameless grin.

“is this where i’m granted a soft kiss from the beautiful princess?” he teased, leaning back on his hands with exaggerated ease.

y/n let out a small breath of a laugh, shaking her head as she looked away, half amused, half flustered.

“i said grateful,” she said, voice cool, but her smile betrayed her.

“gratitude comes in many forms,” he said with a wink. “i’m just listing my preferred one.”

y/n’s gaze lingered on his a moment too long.

there was something in his eyes. mischief, yes, but also something gentler beneath it. sincerity, maybe. or simply the ease of someone untouched by court expectations.

her eyes drifted, almost unconsciously, to his lips. they did look soft.

she caught herself and turned away sharply, shaking her head, embarrassed by her own thoughts. what am i doing? she scolded herself. this is not the time.

she was a princess who was hidden away in the woods, having narrowly escaped the fury of her own people. a nation on edge. a brother who’d abandoned her. a father likely enraged. he was a commoner. a stranger. a man who spoke in riddles and smiles, and yet somehow made her feel safer than the guards who’d sworn to protect her.

absurd, she thought. still, her heartbeat refused to steady.

gojo bit back a laugh.

he’d been a womanizer once, without apology. before shibuya, before the war, before he started running. charm was easy. flings even easier. women came and went like passing seasons. beautiful, forgettable.

but none of them had been like her.

no one had ever looked at him the way she just had. not with judgment or fear, but with curiosity. like she was trying to piece him together, even as she tried to convince herself to stay away.

and now she sat here, barefoot and bruised, more royal in rags than any crown had right to be. trembling yet dignified.

dangerous, he thought. because she could be the one thing i don’t walk away from.

“your brother, the prince,” gojo said, shifting his weight as he leaned back against a tree trunk. “what’s his deal?”

his tone was casual, but the question was deliberate. he needed to change the subject, to get his mind off the fact that he was sitting too close to a girl he had no business feeling anything for. especially not this girl.

y/n’s brow twitched ever so slightly. the phrasing alone, what’s his deal, felt irreverent. careless.

she turned her eyes toward him, cool and unimpressed. “how would you feel if you’d just returned from bloodshed?” she asked, her tone sharper than before. “months in the field. death in every direction. carrying home less than half of the men you left with.”

her expression soured as she spoke, but only for a moment. then, as her eyes met his again, she remembered.

he had seen war too. maybe not in royal armor, but she’d seen it in the hollowness behind his grin. in the way he didn’t flinch when danger rose. in the quiet that followed his charm.

gojo didn’t respond right away. he only watched her, the teasing in his face dimming slightly.

“yeah,” he murmured after a beat. “i’d probably shut the world out too.”

and that was exactly what gojo had done. he shut the world out because letting it in only made it harder to survive.

he wasn’t just some drifting villager, not really. he was a warrior, though few would guess it from his lazy grin and half-hearted jokes. he’d lived under another name, one spoken in whispers across bloodied fields.

the honored one.

his skills were unmatched. fast, ruthless, precise. a ghost in battle, a weapon disguised as a man. he didn’t belong to any one kingdom, he just moved from war to war, hired by crowns and councils that didn’t care who he was, only what he could do. he fought for coin, not cause. for survival, not loyalty.

none of those wars had ever been his. but that was what he signed up for, wasn’t it? to be needed, not known. to win, not belong.

now here he was, watching a princess run her fingers through moss and speak with a fire in her chest he hadn’t felt in years. and for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t thinking about the next job.

he was thinking about her and that scared him more than any battlefield ever had.

“i apologize,” the princess said gently, her voice quiet against the rustling trees. “i shouldn’t have said that. i have no idea what you might’ve gone through.”

her eyes held something vast. not just beauty, but depth. grace that hadn’t been trained into her, but born with her. it caught him off guard. how effortlessly kind she was. not just polite, not out of duty. why would a royal, the daughter of a king, apologize to someone like him? to a man she thought was a commoner, a nobody?

she didn’t know the truth. didn’t know the blood on his hands, the names he’d left buried in forgotten battlefields. didn’t know that the people who had once called him the honored one had also feared him and yet, here she was. offering him softness no one had ever spared him.

nothing about y/n was selfish. nothing about her matched the other royals he’d worked for. those who wore crowns but ruled with coldness. no, she was different and that, more than anything, made her dangerous. kindness like hers could make someone like him believe he was worth saving.

“i guess i can forgive you,” gojo said with a smirk, his voice curling into something playful. “even though i never got that kiss.”

his grin was easy, teasing, meant to lighten the mood, to sweep away the weight of everything they weren’t saying. he hated intensity, especially with women. it made things complicated. made him feel too much.

his smile showed a joke, nothing more than a light flight, but his eyes, his mind, wanted more. he felt drawn in. he wanted to feel her soft lips on his. his eyes betrayed him, part of him wasn’t joking. there was something about her that pulled him in. soft, steady, and dangerously quiet. the kind of draw he couldn’t joke his way out of.

he imagined what it might feel like. her lips against his. slow, uncertain, but real. not because of status or gratitude or timing, but because she wanted to be there in that moment.

he let the thought pass, barely, and leaned back again like it hadn’t crossed his mind at all.

y/n wasn’t experienced in romance, not truly.

she had yearned for it once, quietly, in the tender days of her youth—those fleeting moments between duty and obedience, where dreams whispered what it might be like to be seen beyond her title. she remembered a curious prince from years ago, her seventeenth birthday gala, his hand at her waist during a dance, his smile warm, his words flirtatious.

for a moment, she’d believed love might feel like that, but it had passed. and nothing had come of it. still, she remembered how her chest had fluttered. how her heart had ached when he left. and yet, even then, she hadn’t understood it. not the way she felt now.

gojo was nothing like that prince. his gaze didn’t feel practiced or polished—it felt sharp. real. there was a weight in the way he looked at her, like he saw more than a princess in fine slippers and political worth. like he saw a girl with bruised ankles and trembling hands and still thought she was something worth staring at.

y/n didn’t know what to do with that.

she had always done what she was told. silence came naturally. obedience even more so. her place in the world had always been defined for her. here now, sitting beside gojo, tangled in moss and uncertainty, she didn’t feel like a princess. she felt like herself, something she didn't even know existed and she didn’t know if that was terrifying or intoxicating.

the darkness began to settle around them, the sun barely threading its last golden rays through the trees. long shadows stretched across the mossy ground, and the once warm forest now felt a touch colder—more uncertain.

“i think we need to take the risk and go back,” y/n said softly, a hint of unease in her voice. her fingers curled slightly into her skirts.

she’d never been beyond the kingdom walls at night, the dark outside the castle was unknown. it wild, full of sounds she didn’t recognize and dangers she’d only heard in whispers.

gojo glanced at her, then stood, stretching casually before turning to scan the trees with a deliberate ease.

“oh don’t worry, gorgeous,” he said, flashing a grin. “you’ve got me.”

he meant it as a tease, but his eyes were serious as they swept the surrounding woods, alert for anything that moved. despite everything, he wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

when he sat back down beside her, the air between them shifted again.

a soft floral scent rose from her skin. it was delicate, sweet, and entirely her. it slipped into his lungs and lingered there like a whisper.

a pretty scent and a prettier girl.

he drew in a slow, quiet breath, grounding himself.

he could control himself—he would, but it was getting harder. every moment spent beside her, every glance, every breathe had pulled at something raw inside him.

don’t be reckless, he told himself. not with her.

y/n felt warmth rising in her chest. it was not from fear, but from the man sitting beside her. the creaking of the trees, the rustle of leaves, even the cold night air. they all faded in comparison to the intensity of gojo’s presence. his arm brushed hers slightly, and it was as if the forest disappeared.

“you’re gorgeous yourself, you know,” she said quietly, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

immediately, her eyes widened.

what are you doing? heat rushed to her cheeks, and she turned her face away in quiet horror.

get it together, she scolded herself, you don’t say things like that. not to him, but next to her, gojo smirked with his gaze still fixed forward.

oh, he’d heard it and he definitely knew he still had it in him. even in simple rags, women adored him.

“oh, am i?” gojo teased, his voice low, the amusement curling at the edges. “then why can’t you look at me right now? it’s as if you’re scared of my face.”

y/n’s breath caught, her chest rising just a little too fast. slowly, almost hesitantly, she turned to face him. moonlight streamed through the trees, casting silver across his features—softening the sharp angles, lighting up the ocean of his eyes.

and god, they were beautiful.

“i don’t think anyone could be scared of your face,” she murmured, the words quiet but steady. “least of all me.”

their eyes locked in the stillness. her fear, his pride, the cold night, the warmth between them, it all hung in the air like something waiting to fall.

without much of a second thought, y/n leaned toward him, drawn in by the quiet intensity behind his eyes, they were hypnotic. glacial and burning all at once. the kind of gaze that made her forget titles, rules, the world entirely.

she wanted to feel his lips on hers. she wanted to lose herself in this handsome stranger who had risked everything for her and in that moment, it didn’t feel reckless, it felt necessary.

gojo knew it was coming, he knew it probably shouldn’t happen. something in him also knew he wasn’t going to stop it.

he moved in too, slow and steady, as if he could meet her halfway without shattering the delicate thread between impulse and restraint. their faces were just inches apart, breath to breath, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“y/n.”

the voice broke through the stillness, dull and distant, but unmistakable. flat, trying too hard to sound calm. as if someone had buried their panic beneath stone. her name hung between the trees, and everything stopped.

© sathereal 2025 — do not copy or repost as your own.

[mochinomnoms]

Hi, vacations are killing me rn (I am going on multiple walks to explore, and damn I am busy)

But I did have time to listen to vocaloid songs, and I got me a little idea~

It's very sweet too

Okay so there's this song that despite controversy (the controversy is actually silly dw about it) that's about mocking the trope of "tsunderes" so this girl has a crush on a classmate and calls them a "small fry"

I think yk where I am going

Hell yeaaaah the tweels get their own game turned on them because of all the teasing they do to their crush and have to risk that their crush is going to get tired one day and try to leave because excessive teasing is not that enjoyable

"Loser, loser.. despite all of my bullying, you still have a crush! ♡" (rough translation)

"Your reactions are just so cutee! I can't get enough ♡" - Something Floyd would say about his dear shrimpy

"Hm? Did you join my club to spend more time with me, Prefect? :)" - Maaybee something that Jade would say to his darling pearl

Their teasing can be really cruel sometimes, yet they still care? Maybe? It makes you feel overwhelmed and used because they keep stringing you along with all of their joking, pulling you close to only laugh at your flustered face but they are not clear with their emotions and it's frustrating!

One day, the two of them gang up on you cooing mockingly (perhaps) about how cute yet pathetic you are! You had enough you get up from your desk instead of curling yourself in embarrassment until the two leave you alone and get up to stay away from them

It's the first time you have done something that's out of the ordinary, and while normally they would enjoy this unexpected change, but it's different when you start crying while walking away from them, frustrated clearly!

"H-hey! Wait, don't leave me! I will apologize. I am sorry -" (rough translation again)

So they chase after you because they care deep down, but they are stupid

And I only thought about these two for the "small fry" thing, hehe

-Vaquita (I am alive)

hi vaquita! i missed you very nice to hear from you again!!!

i think i know what song you're talking about?? a miku one right? i'd have to look it up i remember hearing the discourse on it, but i don't really interact with discourse all that much so idk for sure

i think Floyd would get a kick our of a tsundere s/o most! just look at how popular FloRid is, i think part of that Riddle could potentially fit into the role of the tsundere (at least in the fics i've seen). But Floyd likes it so much because he thrives off the reactions and pushing your buttons. it's the fact that you try so hard to be composed and fail each time that he likes! Though, I can see him getting bored after a while if these are the same reactions you give, especially if he knows that you like him a lot. He gets frustrated that you won't just be upfront with your feelings, and if you can't do that why is he still playing around with you, putting in all the work when you won't do the same?

Jade I think finds it cute at first, but will get bored quickly since he sees through you so quickly. Why must you hold yourself back? Isn't it tiring, isn't it a chore? Wouldn't it be much better if you were honest with your feelings? With Jade, he's wanting to see just how deep your feelings go for him, and have you chase after him! Maybe if he changes up your interactions, you'll just have to force yourself to be more than a little tsundere, forced character development hehehe.

[demonsslayersstuff]

Confessions (AOT Men x Reader)

A/N: I’ve found writing head canons to be very enjoyable, so I decided to make one about how the AOT men confess their feelings for you. No major warnings, mostly just fluff. I am working on a Levi drabble, but hitting a bit of a writers block. But hope to post it sometime this week. As always, thanks for the support!

Characters: Erwin, Levi, Jean, Eren, Armin

Erwin Smith:

As I’ve said before this man is busy, so out of all the men, Erwin is gonna be the most direct. Like I have him being so honest that your just there like woah 😳 after he admits it

I feel like later on in the relationship he’d be romantic, but as for confessing his feelings he’s gonna be blunt. “I have feelings for you”, and just patiently waits for your response

Before he confesses, Erwin would go out of his way to talk to you personally, get your favorite drink when you’re having a bad day, and he’d often ask you to accompany him on evening strolls under the guise of going over reports, but in reality he’d just wanted to talk to you

Does a good job of keeping things professional at work, but definitely makes an effort to sit next to you at meals and loves to let his hand brush against yours discretely when he’s next to you

“L/N, can I speak to you for a moment privately?”, you hear Erwin tell you as the meeting adjourned. “Of course sir”, you say as you remained behind watching the others leave. You note a quizzical look on Levi and Hange’s faces, but the door is quickly shut leaving you and the commander alone. You turn to look at him expectantly. “I don’t have much time, so I’m just going to be straightforward”, Erwin begins. “Ok”, you say tone a bit worried. “I like you, I have for a while and well, I’d like for us to be a couple”, he says faster than he normally speaks, not wanting to lose his courage. Your mouth falls agape in shock, but at the same time you feel a tinge of warmth spread across your body, happy at his confession. “Oh shit, did I read things wrong, let me apologize-”, Erwin rushes at your reaction, but you quickly cut him off. “I like you too”, you say, cheeks churning red. An awkward silence befalls the room before you see Erwin smile happy with the outcome of his confession.

Levi Ackerman:

Honestly I see this going two ways because Levi doesn’t let people in easily. Firstly, either you’d be seriously injured, closed to death and it would spill out of his mouth when he realizes he never got the chance to tell you his true feelings

The second way is that it’s you that has to confess first. Like he does things subtly, giving you clues on his true feelings, but you gotta be the one to say it

I see him making you tea the way you like it, without needing to ask you, he just observed you overtime. I could also see him helping you train by giving you more one on one time and idk why by I just see him hovering near you as much as possible. Like not directly, but he’s there in the background, sometimes absentmindedly (not in a creeper way)

After feelings are confessed he’s similar to Erwin in that he keeps it professional. Likes to eat meals with you and often likes to do paperwork with you, so you find yourself in his office quite a bit

You sigh before knocking on his door. Nervousness floods your system as you hear his voice saying “Enter”, tiredly. This probably wasn’t the best time, but you were tired of not knowing if he liked you or not and with Levi, it was best to just get it out of the way now. “What’s up?”, Levi asks as you close the door and walk towards his desk. You stare at him for a minute, losing your confidence for a second. “Erm”, you start. “Out with it, I have a lot paperwork to finish”, he says with a heavy sigh. “IlikeyouandIdon’tknowifyoulikeme”, spills from your mouth at lightening speed, causing Levi’s blue eye’s to widen at your confession. Oh shit, I royally fucked up, you think as you continue to stare at each other. With the bravado completely gone you immediately turn on your heel, rushing for the door. “Stop!”, you hear him say loudly as your fingers touch the doorknob. You hear his chair scrape back, hear his even steps getting closer. “Look at me”, Levi commands with a gentleness to his tone. You look at him slowly. “I like you too”, he says quietly. Now your own eyes widen in shock. You were in for an interesting conversation with Levi that afternoon.

Jean Kristein:

Boy thinks he’s smooth as fuck, but his confession turns into an adorable hot mess. He stumbles over his words and idk why but I see him tripping as he confidently walks towards you

Aside from that, Jean is actually fairly romantic. Like he came prepared with flowers or some cute little gift for you

Before he confessed, Jean’s feelings for you were noticeable. Always quick to sit next to you at meals, wanted to be your training partner constantly. If there was a bit of extra food or bread he’d give it to you

After the two of you are together, Jean finds it hard to keep things professional 24/7. He tries, but he gets distracted by his gorgeous partner. Eventually Levi has to keep the two of you separated on missions and what not. The last thing he wants is for a worst case scenario to happen which I will not name 🤐, but we all know about

“Wait here just a second”, you hear Sasha say, leading you to quiet and nearly deserted corner of the long hallway. “Ok”, you say confused as you watch her quickly walk away. Soon though you see Jean walking your way, carrying a small bouquet of flowers. But before he reaches you, he trips on a jutted floorboard, nearly falling on top of you. “Are you ok?”, you ask him as he regains his balance, embarrassment on his face. “Yeah…uh here”, he mumbles shoving the flowers into your face. “They are beautiful, thanks”, you tell him with a small smile. “No problem, I saw them and they reminded me of you and yeah”, he says, cheeks burning red. “Jean, what’s up?”, you question. “Fuck, I had a different plan for this, but I uhh, I like you a lot, like a lot, a lot”, he tells you, words tumbling from his mouth. You’d never seen Jean so nervous before, it was cute. “Well”, you start before leaning up to softly kiss his cheek. “I like you too”, you whisper. “Wait, really?”, Jean asks shocked, causing you to chuckle. “So are we dating?”, he asks in quick fashion. “I’d like that”, you say smiling, happiness filling your body.

Eren Jeager:

*Listen I love him with Mikasa, but I support my Eren peeps.

Eren’s confession I feel like would be said in the heat of a dire situation or after you do something that completely has him shook to his core, but in a good way

I’m not sure why, but I see him being direct, but an indirect, direct. “Do you like me?” Would definitely be stated by him. He needs your confession before his own

Before his confession Eren is definitely protective of you. He is quick to be on your side in any situation, often sits next to you during meals or breaks, and likes to have conversations with you

After the confession he is way more protective of you. Surprisingly fairly professional at work, but during combat worries too much about you. Similar with Jean, Levi keeps you separated in different groups so you two don’t lose focus

“Walk with me?”, Eren asks as you finish up your meal. “Ok”, you respond, before following him outside to the cobble stone streets. The sun had long set, but the moon offered a small glow of light. You and Eren walk in comfortable silence for some time before he pauses, turning to look at you. “How you do feel about me?”, he asks, his green eyes locking with yours. “W-What do you mean?”, you ask him, confusion seeping into your words. “I mean do you like me?”, Eren questions more directly, causing your cheeks to flush. He’d caught you, apparently you weren’t hiding your feelings well. “I..uh, I do. But I don’t to ruin our friendship, so if you don’t like me, I’ll get over it quickly”, you tell him, with embarrassment evident in your tone. It’s quiet for a second before, “I don’t want you to get over it”, Eren mutters. Shock floods your system, “Huh”, you whisper. “I said I don’t want you to get over it, I like you too”, he says, slightly louder. “Oh”, you respond shyly. Eren reaches down and grabs your hand before the two of you continue your walk, a happy smile on both your faces.

Armin Arlet:

I see Armin’s confession being fairly soft. Even though anxiety is coursing through his veins, his confession is simple and sweet

I see his confession being similar to Erwin’s. Sometimes direct is the best way to handle things and I see that happening with his confession

Before confessing Armin was always quick to talk to you, often wanted to spend time reading books with you and going a long walks together when you had the time. Sat near you during meals and was always to first to offer you a water after a grueling training session

After confessing, not much changes honestly other than the two of you being attached at the hip. Definitely keeps it professional and while he worries about you and you him, the job comes first for both of you

“May I sit here?”, Armin asks, indicating towards the empty seat next to you. “Of course, you’re up early”, you comment as he settles next to you. Other than the occasional older scout veterans, the dinning area was fairly empty. “True, but I wanted to talk to you about something”, Armin tells you, his blue eyes shinning. “I’m all ears, what’s up”, you respond with a light smile. “Well, to be completely honest, I like you, a lot. I like you more than friends and wanted to see if you felt the same way”, he states, voice careful, anticipating your reaction. Your cheeks flush a light shade of pink as his words and you look away for a moment before, “I like you too”, quietly slips out of your mouth. Armin smiles brightly, happy with your confession. The two of you spend the early morning talking softly before your half asleep friends join you for breakfast.

A/N: Sasha representing all of us when our favs confess their feelings for us delulus 😂