#i'm struggling with muse so i'm doing this instead

[allisonreader]

I'm in a mood, so below are some more personal ramblings.

This hasn't come up recently, but I find that in this particular moment that I am thinking about it. And that is most people's perception of me, both in person and online. I find it so interesting that the general perception of me is this bright, bubbly personality that can lighten the mood with my smile. (Obviously this is extremely a generic description but it is apt. As I have been told it in some variation throughout my life.)

But quite literally since at least kindergarten, the two most common comments on my report cards throughout my school career were about how I was a delight to have in class and my smile always lit up the classroom with my particular knack for procrastination mentioned shortly after.

I've always been the one with a smile to the point where more than once in high school when I had a more neutral expression on my face, I had people ask me out of concern if something was wrong, when nothing was.

So anyways I do think that it's interesting that this perception of me even bleeds into how I come across online. That this "sunshine and rainbows" sort of positive personality shines through what I write and post, even though I feel like it doesn't always. But I've had more than one person make comments that say exactly that to some degree. Bright is often used.

And I guess why I'm thinking about this right now is because at the moment I certainly don't feel bright or bubbly. Right now I feel a touch lonely. Which aches across the chest.

A big problem I have though is that I like to bury and ignore that feeling sometimes. I will sometimes reach out to people, but will I admit to why I'm trying to contact anyone, no. Because why admit to loneliness or anything else? Not when you can bury them down deep. I'm not looking for any advice, because I know what the solution is. It's getting out there, reaching out to people whether I want to or not and going and doing something. (Here enters procrastination once again.)

Anyways I just needed to write that out currently. And now this can get lost in the void. Though I am up for a chat.

[little-paper-man]

oh god chapter 15 is going to be a Behemoth.

[ddejavvu]

hotch hiring spencer to tutor his (college aged) daughter, and hes so impressed with how much theyve been studying and how hes helped her grades, until one day he walks in on one of their "study sessions," but they're not really studying at all.....

Aaron knew there'd be no better person to turn to than Dr. Spencer Reid when his daughter began struggling with her college course load. You're having trouble studying efficiently, you spend so much time at your desk scribbling down ineffective notes that you forget to eat, sleep, and take care of yourself. He's worried about you, his heart aches for his baby girl, so he asks Spencer to start coming over on Saturdays to help you.

It works great. Not only do your grades skyrocket, but your mood does too, no longer sullen from having no free time or sleep schedule. You're back to your old self, maybe even happier now, and Aaron can't hold back the smile on his face as he ascends the stairs, an array of your favorite snacks in hand.

Spencer's inhumanly obsessed with cheez-its, and your own snack of choice is held in his other hand. He thinks the least he can do to thank Spencer is feed the man, seeing as he's so skinny sometimes his snug sweater vests are loose. You swing the door shut during your study sessions, at Aaron's own request, because he couldn't hear the television downstairs over the sound of your chatter. He doesn't think to knock, he's sure the creaking of your door's old hinges will be enough of a sound to break you out of your study stupor.

"Y/N, Spencer, I brought- oh my god."

Your dad's voice nearly goes down a full octave, sending your stomach swirling. He speaks low when he's mad, and watching you scramble out of Spencer's lap and straighten your wrinkled top, you're sure he's livid.

"I- uh, Hotch," Spencer babbles, but you smack the back of his hand to get him to shut up. He runs his fingers through his hair instead, combing out the strands that you'd mussed while licking over his bottom lip.

"Dad!" You chime, "Um- I'm sorry, we- I didn't know you'd come in. We just- we were studying, but then, I- I got distracted, really, it wasn't Spencer's fault, we- I just- I-"

"Stop." Aaron shuts his eyes, snack bags now shoved carelessly onto your bedside table as your dad brings a hand to his face. You're sure this is scarier than any situation Spencer's ever faced before, including aggravated unsubs and near-shootings.

Your dad buries his face in his hand, one large enough to cover his features. It's almost scarier not seeing his stern face; you wonder if his eyes are glowing red.

"Hotch- sir, I'm so sorry." Spencer tries again, and your dad holds up his free hand to silence him. He doesn't need to be told twice, or- thrice, and he closes his mouth.

"How long have you two been doing this?" He asks, muffled by his hand in front of his face.

"Only two weeks. Or- Saturdays, only two days. Just- this time, and, uh, the last time."

"It started last week?"

"Yes." You confirm, nodding even if he can't see.

"Are you studying?"

"Yes." You promise, smoothing out a rumpled study guide and hoping he can't hear it, "Uh- this is our- well, my break."

"Fantastic." Your dad drawls, finally dragging his palm down his face and looking you dead in the eyes. It looks like it almost hurts him to do so, and you feel residual pain in your stomach, churning away again.

"I suppose there are worse people you could be doing that with." He muses carefully, "Though I wish you weren't doing it at all. But you're in college."

"I am," You nod.

"And you're an adult."

"I am."

"And I can't tell you what to do anymore."

You stay silent, not wanting to push your luck.

"Okay. There's nothing I can do," He decides, face still more stoic than when he'd entered, intent on giving you snacks. If he'd had known you'd been eating Spencer's face, he would have saved them for later.

"Don't do it here." He pleads, "At least not while I'm here. And- and while I'm here," He warns, looking at Spencer this time, "This door stays open. Understand?"

"Yes, dad." You nod, and Spencer echoes it with 'sir' as a replacement.

"Study." Aaron narrows his eyes at the both of you, pointedly jamming the door stop beneath the door until it's practically punching a hole through the wall where the knob hits, "If your grades drop again, this is over."

"Yes, dad." You call again, waiting until he storms off down the stairs to even breathe in Spencer's direction.

"Oh my god," Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands, "Oh my god, that was- that was awful."

"He didn't say no!" You point out, grinning at the blushy man beside you, "That went, like, a thousand times better than I was expecting."

"At least I don't have to hide it anymore. Do you know how hard it was for me to pretend I wasn't putting the moves on his daughter while we were in Dallas this past week?"

"I know how hard it was to pretend I wasn't tonguing his agent during dinner last night," You shrug, grinning at Spencer who looks like he's not quite ready to be relieved yet, "No more secrets for either of us, pretty boy."

[charliemwrites]

Before charmed slasher Simon revealed his true identity, what were movie nights like? I’d kill for a lil section on them almost cuddling on the couch while watching a scary movie and Simon absolutely adoring when you jump and scooch closer to him on instinct 🥹🥹 please charlie I beg you 😭

*Checks notes, chats with The Council* Yeah okay... we can do that.

CW for a bit of somnophilia and Simon being a creep!!

You open the door looking like some kind of pastry with too-big eyes. Soft, cream-colored pair of joggers and a thin pink jumper, so fuzzy he just knows he'll find fluff on him after this. You look so cozy and sweet; he wants to put a pretty belled collar on you. Maybe watch you curl up in a nest of blankets, safe behind the bars of a cage.

But maybe not, he muses as you chirp a greeting, taking his hand to tug him into your apartment. A lamb inviting a wolf to the pen. He likes you best like this, all loose limbed and free to roam. Thinks maybe you'd lose some of that mischievous glint if he locked you up.

The collar though... he'd like to hear it ring as you bounce around him.

"I am the bestest friend ever," you declare, squeezing calloused fingers so much bigger and crueler and blood-stained than your own. "You know why?"

He arches an eyebrow. Your impish smile widens with delight. "Why's that, luv?"

"Well, you know that one place you wanted last week, but they were closed?"

He grunts and nods. Last week was your choice to pick the movie, which mean he was in charge of dinner.

"Well... they're still closed for repairs but! I talked to the owner, who talked to his mum, and she gave me the recipe for that dish you like. So guess what I did!"

He stares at you for a moment, teeth aching his jaw with the urge to sink them into soft flesh. Mark you as his. How the hell are you real? How the hell are you here?

When he's silent a beat to long, you click your tongue.

"You're no fun - I tried to make it," you explain.

Only then does he become aware of the scent in your apartment. Garlic and red meat and savory spices. His mouth fills with saliva as he focuses his attention on you again.

"Smells great, luv," he says, flicking the corner of his mouth up.

You beam. "Hopefully it's good! I tried it first and it seems alright, but I'm not sure it's as good as the restaurant."

It's almost not a conscious thought to snap his arm out and scoop you up, dragging you in against his chest. You yelp initially, but it devolves into a little giggle as you flatten your palms against his chest.

"Thank you, luv."

Every time he comes into your home, it's a struggle not to keep you. Not to take this place for himself, keep you for his own among all your pretty, soft things. Blood washes out; he'd show you how.

"Rileyyyy!" you mock-whine, pushing at him. "C'mon, before it gets cold."

He wants to make a comment about eating you. Simon thinks he could survive a winter on your taste alone. Instead he lets you on your feet, eases his snake-like grip around your waist. You cast him one last, warm look and skip off to the kitchen to fill bowls with food.

"So what movie are we watching?" you call.

"You ever seen Sinister?" he asks.

You make an annoyed noise. "You know I haven't!"

"Well, that's what we're watching."

You appear with a full, steaming bowl and a beer, shoo him to the couch with a little kick to his ankles. "Get it set up while I finish serving."

"Bossy thing," he tuts, voice a little too low for teasing.

The bridge of your nose darkens with a flush, but you make a cheeky little face in return. "Someone's gotta keep you in line!"

You're gone before you can hear the rumble in his chest. Some days he could swear you know what you're doing; that you know just what sort of animal you're poking at. That you're seeing just how much you can prod before he springs.

He tries not to imagine that cheeky, smug little smirk going all wet-eyed and desperate with lust. Sits to hide the bulge forming in his pants and sets up the movie.

You saunter out with your own, less-filled bowl and a glass of white wine. Take one look at the screen and shoot him an exasperated look.

"I should have known," you complain.

"Literally called Sinister, luv."

"Yeah, I know," you lament.

As soon as the movie starts you're curling into his side, eyes huge. Meal forgotten in your lap.

"Oh, no," you whisper, tilting your face to give him a pleading look. "I can't eat like this!"

"Eat quick, luv. You'll have a break after this first part.”

You do as you’re told; take a big sip of wine when you’re done - just in time for the first jumpscare. You save the wine but quickly put it away, shrinking down against the cushions.

“You’re mean, awful, terrible,” you mumble, fumbling a blanket off the back of the couch.

“‘S not very nice,” he snorts, licking his fork clean. You’d made it quite well for a first time. Not necessarily as good as the restaurant’s but better for you having made it special for him.

“You’re not very nice,” you reply, going stiff with fear as the “home movies” start playing. “No no no, fuck all of that.”

As soon as he’s set his bowl aside, you’re clinging in his arm. Bicep squished against your breasts, little fingers curling hard into flesh. He hopes you’ll leave cute little bruises. Your eyes are huge trained on the tv, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, hiding your face.

Chuckling, he nudges at you. “Uh uh, no hiding. C’mon, I’m right here.”

You whimper and snuggle in even closer, wedged up against his ribs, leaning into him. Nearly climb into his lap when the creature starts moving on the screen, hands flapping.

“Fuuuuuck that,” you whine, “he’s so fucked oh my god.”

Simon chuckles, setting his other hand on your thigh. Indulges in stroking his thumb over the inseam of your joggers. You barely even seem to notice, engrossed in fear.

By the end, you’re fanning yourself of the panic, shooting him a look that’s meant to be accusing but mostly just owlish.

“You have to make it up to me,” you declare.

Oh, he could think of a dozen ways to do that.

“Yeah?” he rumbles. “What do you need?”

“We’re watching something else. My pick this time.” You pause, shoot him a worried look. “Can you stay for another?”

He smirks. “Couldn’t kick me out if you tried, luv.”

You really couldn’t. Because you’re adorable when you’re scared. Look like something to ruin. But the aftermath is almost better. When your body melts into warmth and (false) safety. The anxiety drains away, leaving you sleepy and pliable. You’ll fall asleep within the hour.

And you do. Clue playing (subtitles on) you’re snoozing against his shoulder before long. He waits until the movie ends for plausible deniability, then takes you to bed. You hardly stir, save to press your nose against his collar with a little hum.

He eases you out of your joggers, eyes flickering at the pretty lace clinging to your hips. Tiny little bows at the sides.

Snuffs out the bedside lamp and fishes his fully-hard cock from his pants. He teases his free hand along your inner thigh, over the lace front of your panties. Scrapes his nail a bit where your clit is hidden. Nearly purrs when you moan softly, wiggling on the mattress to open your thighs wider, still out cold.

Fucks his other hand vicious and brutal, relishing the slight dry pain. Fast and hard, already worked up from having you trembling against him for over an hour. It doesn’t take long to fall over that edge, the memory of your squeaks and cries finishing him off.

He covers the sensitive, angry tip as he cums, no matter how much he wants to paint you with his spend. He takes a deep breath as the pleasure courses through him, twitching through aftershocks. Cracks his neck as he peeks your peaceful expression.

Can’t help himself. Smears his wet thumb over the front of your panties. Nothing you’ll notice in the morning, but you’ll spend all night with him marking your cunt. Maybe even all day tomorrow.

He should go.

Ends up gently, carefully, glossing your bitten bottom lip with a drop of cum as well. Gets rock hard all over again when your tongue flicks out at the sensation, tasting. Still unconscious. You roll over with a sleepy sigh and curl up.

Simon pulls the blankets over you and returns to the living room to clean up from dinner. He’s not yet willing to slink back to his den.

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Masterlist

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Valentines Day Special Fic ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ My friend silly giving me this idea i had no other V-day special then they reminded me I'm actually a writer so O7 to u bestie ]‼️

・┆✦ Entry : 021 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ And In Those Eyes I see Heaven; My Heaven] ¡! ❞

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Jinwoo muses as he watches your face light up with a soft giggle.

Here he was, in front of you. Sporting a tuxedo that oh-so fits him perfectly that he looks straight of a dream with a bouquet of delicately arranged pink roses he plans to give to you.

Jinwoo had even went so far as to brush his hair neatly and maybe even wax it, making you laugh all the more uncontrollably as he tries to process what is going on exactly.

Silly.

It's so silly, really.

Back then, he was a shy boy who would stutter when he gives you your annual valentines day gift.

Jinwoo really couldn't spend too much money since he needed to save some for later expenses and academic stuff.

So instead he would resort into horribly handmade gifts

He started with the sloppiest and most crudely made paper boquets.

Jinwoo is ashamed of himself, but he couldn't take the gifts back since you would horde them to yourself for safekeeping.

His gifts would range to horribly made papercrafts, to seashells he found by the shore, to necklaces he put together by trinkets.

He would take you out to innocent dates, walking you on quiet parks of seoul. If the parks are too noisy, Jinwoo would go out of his way to search for possible date places.

Maybe it would be you two passing by supposed haunted buildings, maybe you two would be in the bookstore skimming around on the book covers and debating which book would look more fanciful to read than the other, other times he would take you to isolated cafes where only the two of you and the barista would be making noise in the soundless place.

No matter how funny and cute your valentines were, you knew, for sure— That whatever Jinwoo does is from the bottom of his heart.

He would think his efforts are stupid, but secretly that was why you loved him.

It's not because it was expected of a boyfriend, it was because he did something even if he knows he wouldn't do the best.

Jinwoo would always be trying for you, he would always be thoughtful of you, so much so that it makes your heart just cry from his sincerity.

How could someone just be so full of love? How could someone just give their hearts out like that? How is he so sincere?

Even if he were struggling with his odd jobs, even if he was silently crying behind closed doors from the stress living is causing him— Jinwoo always thought of you, he thought of how he could make you happy the next time you meet.

He thought of how he would hide his wounds and gashes from hunts just for you.

He always, always, thought of you.

But little did you knew, he had done some stuff for your attention.

He made those crude gifts because he wanted to see you make fun of him, he wanted to see you burst out laughing and gush about the little thing he made.

He took you to different places because he wanted you to see the more beautiful things of this world, he wanted to show you just how worth it living here is even if the world seems so dark and horrible.

He took you to those quiet little corners so he could hear your voice better without the background noise of anything else.

He often hides his injuries, yes, but sometimes he would purposely let those bandages get lose because he knew you would wrap it up for him. Whether you do it silently or you do it while scolding him, all he cared about, was how beautiful you are right at that moment.

Jinwoo loves you, more than you will ever know, more than any words could ever describe.

The swelling of his heart that never ends, the butterflies in his stomach that keeps fluttering around, and the galaxy he sees in your eyes— Oh how he loved you.

Even if he didn't say 'I love you' 3000' times a day, even if he couldn't give you everything back then— He loved you with all of him just as he does right if not more.

He loves subtly touching your fingers, he loves grazing his fingers on your lovely face, he loves staring at you in a complete daze, he loves running his hands through your soft hair.

Overall, he ust loved touching you and admiring you up close or from afar.

Because so long as you are in front of him, he doesn't really need to think about anything but just....

'Ah,... I love you so much'

Just how can he not spoil you no matter how much he embarasses himself?

And that same flimsy, wimpy and shy little boy, is now a man.

Dressed so handsomely in his suit, upright posture, a proud smile on his face.

This Man...

No

Your Man.

Your Sung Jinwoo

Your Jinwoo.

Not the Shadow Monarch, not the Tenth S-ranker of South Korea, not the World's Strongest hunter.

Just Jinwoo.

Your lovely, lovely, Jinwoo.

Even if he had grown so much, even if he had become so drastically different.

He is still Jinwoo.

The Jinwoo who made you crude paper flowers

The Jinwoo who dragged you into silly places

The Jinwoo who never stops at loving you.

...

"You know..." Jinwoo sighs, chuckling as he ruffles his hair to mess it up a little. "I think this version of me is better than a super formal gentleman, right?"

Yeah.

That's right.

A gentleman Jinwoo is always welcome.

But the Jinwoo who is just him is much... Much more lovable.

"Happy Valentines Day, Love."

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

[leaf-line]

For the request, can I please have Yandere Topaz, Jade, and Ruan Mei x people pleasure reader headcanon (seperate).

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭

Yandere! Topaz/Jade/Ruan Mei x Gn! Reader

❏ In which your selfless deeds catch someone's attention for no good reason.

cw: suggestive themes, dehumanization, isolation, brainwashing, non-consensual (french) kiss, Ruan Mei being gross.

w/c: 1,484

"Care for a drink Miss Topaz? Maybe I can help with your problems..." You offer a juice to her, and a hand. Co-worker [Name], a diligent worker in the Strategic Investment Department, seen around doing favors and extra work just for everyone... But why won't you just help her and only her instead?

"Oh, thank you! And no thank you, I can do these all by myself, how about you take care of yourself, and take a rest? You're always so helpful, [Name]." Topaz takes the juice gratefully with a smile.

"No... The same goes for you, Miss Topaz, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here having this position." You bow your head before hearing someone call you.

"[Name]! Do you have anything to do right now!? I need you assistance with this—"

"Yes! Yes! Coming right up!" You scurry to the voice, but not before giving a little wave to Topaz.

She returns the wave. Before looking back to the screen... And frowns. "It's only a matter of time." She mumbles.

Oddly enough, in the next three days after just being in the IPC, you were announced as Topaz's own personal assistant.

"This is... A bit surprising... But I look forward to being your assistant from now on, Miss Topaz." You smile, she smiles too.

"No, Jelena is fine, you're my assistant now, right? You don't need to be formal. I just have one rule... Don't assist any other workers from the IPC if it's not me, alright?" She orders.

"May I ask why...?"

"I simply don't want you to be led astray from your work, now, am I clear?"

What... a weird request, but you follow it nonetheless. For one day, that is, you only lasted one day, when that another co-worker of yours, begged for your assistance, you couldn't refuse, you weren't trained for that.

"Awh come on, [Name]! Just because you're now Topaz's assistant, doesn't mean you don't have to help your other co-workers too!" The person in front of you moaned.

"I'm sorry but, Miss Topa—Jelena advised me not to—"

"It's just very little work, it won't kill you will it? Just help me."

"...A-Alright, fine..."

...After that time, you never saw that same co-worker again the next day, from what you've seen, he was fired from his job because of workplace harassment, you don't know if it's true, you doubt that it's true... and Jelena... didn't seem happy when she confronts you about your deed.

"Didn't I personally said to you that you shouldn't assist anyone other than me?"

She sighs and shakes her head disappointedly. Your back was facing the wall as she pushes up her thigh below your crotch.

"I can't believe you would just disobey me that early, maybe I should start teaching you and training so you won't be pushed around from others like that."

Teaching you and training you like a pet, that is. A cute, little pet who won't disobey her master. That's what Topaz shamelessly labels you as.

You walked into the pawn shop nervously. You swallow, feeling like you've entered a dangerous territory.

"Welcome to Bonajade Exchange. Who are you? And what do you seek?" An unfamiliar and elegant voice rang from behind the curtain.

"I wish... To help my friends." You mumbled out loud.

"Hm? Why is that?" Though you can't see her, you can feel her smiling through her lips. "Are you sure you're here for the sake of someone else?" She muses.

"They've... Been struggling with expenses, I don't know what offer you but myself... I owe them many." You tell her with a sad tone.

"You're sacrificing yourself for the sake of your friend? That's very noble, we can arrange that. Though, since you're here at my pawnshop, I'd like to hear what you want for your own self."

"No need. I'll do what I can to help other people." You fidget, yet say with full honestly, Lady Bonajade senses that. There is not single greedy bone in your body, fellows like you were rare, it's about time she found a rare gem, just like Jelena.

"I see," She raises the curtains. "In exchange for other people's needs, why don't you work at this shop?" She offers.

You cleaned the pawnshop, bargained for Jade, advertised the shop for the people in need. You kept the store running, but you didn't show any signs of uplifting the profits into another level, you were just a side piece, keeping the shop regulating like normal, and it was insufficient for Jade.

But it's fine, Jade doesn't leave an exchange until she gets real value.

You were cut ties from your family thinking that you were just busy and working hard to provide yourself and sending a lot of resources to them, your friends were now happy and financially stable but never really checked on you whether your doing good, the people you care and know were healthy, but they don't need you. Now you find your hands weighting chains, attached to the shackle on your wrist.

If there's one thing Jade found joy in, it's reaping a pure, untaited, soul.

"Come closer here," Jade gestures you to come over, you obey, broken. You see her lips, tainted with dark red lipstick, it comes closer, not on your face.

And just as Adam bit the apple, Jade bites your neck.

"Ruan Mei, you're burnt out, please take a rest, I'll handle all of this research." You place a blanket on her shoulder.

"Would you like a cup of tea? A plate of cake? Embroider something? Please inform me, I'll... I'll handle it." You say with a smile.

Ruan Mei was tired, she had been researching Aeons for a couple of weeks, barely feeding herself. And usually, when Ruan Mei was tired, she wouldn't entrust anyone with her research... Except for you.

Ruan Mei's trusty little assistant, whom she's sure no matter what she asks you for, you would do that.

"...I want a cake." She answers, though delayed.

"Oh, alright!" You seem delighted to be doing a favor. You ran into the kitchen, preparing the food as Ruan Mei daydreams.

Why were you so insistent in helping her? Why do you do everything in your power to please her? You're strange, a strange person, Ruan Mei shouldn't care, she shouldn't care about your well being, she shouldn't care why your here to help her.

"I'm at your service, Ruan Mei."

"Do you need any help? I'll be sure to help you with what you need, Ruan Mei."

"Ruan Mei."

"Ruan Mei."

"Ruan Mei—"

"Ruan Mei, your desert is ready..." She snaps out of her daydream and glances at you, then the plate you're holding.

She blinks. "Apologies, I blanked out."

"It's alright."

You don't say her name, she's just a bit slightly dissapointed. But it was never shown in her face.

You hand over the dessert you made for her, she takes it. You studied Ruan Mei's personal favorite desserts, food, tea and how it's all tailored to Ruan Mei's tastes. Your cooking is always bound to be above her expectations.

She takes a bite of the cake and you see her lips curl up by two milimeters, which sounds a lot.

"...Would like me to share?" She must've noticed you staring at her, you shake your head at the offer. "I mean no harm, I simply want to share my food to you, is that alright?"

You obey her regardless...

She looks at her research paper, at the table, only to get a headache since none if it provided her help towards her goal. She opts focusing on you instead.

"Here, say ahh..." Using the spoon, she takes a good amount of portion of the cake and tried to feed you with it like you're a baby.

"Ruan Mei, that is a bit... Embarrassing..."

You said her name, she relishes.

"It's fine, you only deserve, after all the times you helped me, come on, you don't need to lift a finger." She pushes the spoon to your lips, so you awkwardly open your mouth and the cake enters.

"...Say my name." She orders, but your eating something... That's not a problem, right?

"Ruan Mei, wh—Mmph!?"

She intrudes, exploring your mouth with her tongue, feeling the food that you personally made for her, she takes a part of it, and exits your mouth.

She swallows the cake with your saliva coatted in it then licks her lips. "Mm. Delectable." She nods, as if she's rating the experience with 4.5 stars.

You were left there with a dumbfounded expression, confused, perhaps even grossed out.

It's fine, brainwashing isn't hard to conduct, you'll forget this ever happened in no time. Just as how you forgot you were trapped in her home against your will in the first place.

a/n: mmm... manipulative women... 😋

[xjoonchildx]

kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap. 

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames. 

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet. 

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand. 

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on. 

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool. 

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances. 

He’d finished you. 

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white. 

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters. 

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts. 

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.” 

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face. 

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side. 

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way. 

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.” 

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once. 

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire. 

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth. 

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her.  She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth. 

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for. 

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.” 

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.” 

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles. 

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger. 

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri. 

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers? 

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours. 

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her. 

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks. 

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman. 

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face. 

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she? 

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice. 

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear? 

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes. 

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”  

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that. 

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it. 

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again. 

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark. 

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike. 

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel. 

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.” 

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. 

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire. 

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed. 

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?” 

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.” 

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown. 

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover. 

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone. 

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him. 

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it  finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance. 

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this. 

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you. 

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation. 

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin,  watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury. 

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know. 

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

[pendarling]

It's A Journal

Villain's fingers pressed slowly against the pages, completely engrossed by the lines of words strung together by Hero.

Across from them, Villain could hear the subtle movements of Hero tied to the chair. "Mmmhfh! Mmmfh!!" They pushed hopelessly against the ropes as Villain flipped to the next page of the small journal.

"You have a creative mind, Hero." They mused calmly as they finished reading the passage, "I should've known that you were the type to keep a diary." They chuckled as Hero glared at them. "Oh, right, a journal, a journal. Whatever you say."

They stood up and walked behind Hero before undoing the wrap around their mouth. Hero spat the taste of the cloth as Villain walked back in front of them again, "Breaking into my house while I'm off duty?? Have you lost your mind?!"

"Bah." They waved them off playfully, still unaware of the gripping matters swirling in Hero's head.

"Put my shit down. Now!"

Villain sat on the dining room table, "Not until I find something interesting."

"You've read enough! You know my fears! You know the name of my middle school! Now put it down!"

"You're right. I do know those things, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed, Hero." They cruised through the pages. Hero's eyes kept steady at their hands as they tried to count each page. "You keep talking about rather mundane topics."

"Stop it." They said with a bit of hesitance behind their eyes.

"Why? I'm having so much fun."

"You read more, and you'll find something you won't like."

At that, Villain had paused, suddenly caught off guard by the tone. "What won't I like?" They looked at them and shut the book with a curious expression.

Hero didn't respond and instead continued to settle in their silence.

"Did you write anything about me?" Villain raised a brow. "Darling?" They softly whispered.

"And what if I did?"

They stared at each other for a moment; Villain laughed subtly, "You think I'm falling for your bluff? I bet I know exactly what you wrote about." They put the book down on the table, much to the hero's relief.

"It's not a bluff." Hero said with wide eyes, their hands struggling from the restraints.

Their nemesis walked up to them pointedly. Villain's smirk widened as they tilted Hero's head up, pushing their cheeks in with their hand, "When has the good little Hero ever lied before?"

Hero shook their head in an attempt to escape their grasp with little achievement. "I have!"

"We'll see about that." They shook their head playfully and moved back toward the book. Villain analyzed Hero's fearful eyes as they brushed through the pages until something had caught their eye.

In large letters, Villain came across their name centred on the page.

"A whole chapter? Dedicated to me?" They turned the book in Hero's direction with a large smile.

Hero felt their face heat up as their jaw tightened, and they looked down, "It's not what it is." They mumbled desperately, but it wouldn't stop Villain from enjoying the detailed lines of words throughout the passage.

"Today, I met Villain again," they began.

"Please don't read it out loud!" Hero spoke, their face turning beet red.

"Why not? You already know what you wrote. Too scared you might've made a heartfelt confession in here?~" They laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"Who said it was?" They mused, but Villain had listened to their demand anyway and went ahead reading quietly to themselves. Their once playful expression had turned softer as their eyes moved around the page with careful consideration. A silence so defeating had come to Hero with their heart pounding in their chest, but their only focus was getting out of the chair.

Only a minute had passed until Villain had settled the book back down again. "You've amused me enough, Hero." They said. "I see you were very particular about what you wanted to write."

Hero could only wither in shame under the scrutinizing gaze of their enemy, fully aware of the specifics of their life inside and out.

"Please don't."

"Don't what?" They pouted, "You wrote about how excited you get when you see me. How our fights give you a thrill you've never experienced before."

Hero's face deepened in colour, denying the remarks about their encounters. "Shut up."

The comment didn't hold any weight to the criminal who tapped on the table thoughtfully. "I can't say I wasn't surprised that you even wrote about that time I pinned you up against that wall." Their shoes clicked forward and circled them. "What was it again?" They spoke lowly, "I wish they had held me just like that even longer. Isn't that what you said?"

"Oh God."

"My favourite part is the way you described me. You like it when my hands hold you like this?" Their fingers traced Hero's neck and held it firmly, but not enough to choke the air out of them.

"Okay, you win. Is that what you wanted?" They would bury their own head if they could, but Hero was left to become a spectacle by Villain who seemed to revel in their newfound power.

Villain leaned in, their lips brushing up against their ear. "We were just getting to the good part, Hero. You don't really hate me, remember?"

"I'm not supposed to—"Their breath caught in their throat when they felt Villain's hand crawl down to their thigh delicately.

"Isn't that what makes this fun?" They pulled back, their eyes full of excitement. "Breaking those rules. For your own selfish desires?"

Hero had to keep their eyes focused on Villain instead of the way their hand loosely dipped into their inner thigh as they struggled to let out a sound from their lips. "I don't know."

"Well, wouldn't you like to find out?"

"It's better if I don't."

"Shouldn't a brave little hero like you be able to explore the unknown?" For a second Hero had caught a glimpse of their enemy's eyes flash down to their lips and back up again. They swallowed hard and shook their head with whatever little movement they could do with Villain's hand still around their neck.

"Tell me," They whispered, "do you still think about the day I pinned you against that wall?"

Hero licked their lips, and their breathing visibly quickened. "I can't say I can recall all the details, I'm afraid."

"Well, good thing I do."

Hero's eyes widened, "You… remember that?"

"I was running all over the place trying to catch you, but then again, you were looking to get caught anyway."

Hero thought back to the time, still so clear in their head, and the remnants of the memory slipped into their mind every so often.

Villain moved closer, their breath light on their lips as their skin prickled at the sensation. "I pushed you to that wall, and you didn't move when I pressed my weight against yours. I could feel the way your heartbeat." Their hand moved from their neck to Hero's chest, "Just like it is right now."

"I told you to stop it." They murmured, although they knew they couldn't convince Villain to do that at all.

Villain's eyes lingered on them, "You don't really want that." They drawled slowly. Villain moved behind them, and their cold, clammy hands came into contact with the leather of Villain's gloves as they gave hero a blade. Hero instinctively began wrapping the knife around the ropes and felt it cut away while Villain moved toward the window.

"Where are you going!?"

Villain slipped one leg out the other side, "Don't miss me too much; I'll come back soon."

The binds snapped behind Hero, and they raised their arm and tossed the weapon at Villain, who just barely got away. They cursed under their breath and ran to look outside to find nothing below them.

Hero locked the window tightly; this would be the last time someone would enter their home unprompted. They'd make sure of that.

They grabbed the soft journal in their hands and inspected each page closely for any damage.

"Thank goodness." They sighed in relief and turned to the very few pages Villain hadn't seen. A collection of personal fantasies they had created themselves to help nurse their growing feelings toward an enemy they weren't supposed to know. Maybe it would be better to leave their deepest secrets in their head next time.

~~~

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[httpsryu]

muse? pt.2

pairing: kang haerin x fem newjeans!reader

summary: getting a new member way long after debut and before a comeback isn't really the best idea to haerin

category: enemies-to-lovers(ish?), kpop idol au

genre: slow burn (kinda), angst, and fluff

warnings: a bit frustrating and A LOT of jealousy

a/n: thank you all for the love of pt.1 of muse!

"Up at the end is your room." Minji looks back at you, checking if you're still catching up.

You let out a nod, trying once again to grab a duffle bag from the taller's hand but yet again; she pulls it back from your reach.

"I got it, Y/N." She smiles back at you, knocking on the door at the end.

Not long after a few seconds, the door opens shortly which revealed a specific cat-eyed female. She only stares at the eldest member before trailing her eyes down to her hands full of the new addition's luggage.

"Haerin-ah, your roommate is here." Minji says, having Haerin step aside to let the both of you in.

Following closely behind Minji, you try your best to ignore a certain girl's gaze.

"You'll get along great with Haerin." The taller gently reassures you before turning to look at the other girl in this room. "Haerin, please help Y/N fit in with the room."

Haerin only swiftly nods, walking back to sit on her bed.

"Once you're done with unpacking, meet us down at the practice room." Minji smiles once more, giving you a small touch on the shoulder before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

"Your side of the closet is empty." Haerin unemotionally says, pointing at the big wardrobe in the middle. "And I'm sure you understand where your bed is."

You quickly nod, smiling with the oh so charming eyes. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah."

Haerin seems...a little bland, to be honest?

"Practice starts in 30 minutes." The other gives you a heads up. "I'd start unpacking if I were you."

Oh!

"Right! If you don't mind, would you help me unpa-"

You couldn't even finish your sentence as the cat-eyed girl walks out the room.

Geez. What the hell is up her ass?

With a silent sigh, you can only sit on the unfamiliar ground before unpacking all your clothes and belongings alone.

The feline-resemblance female tries to cool her anger down, constantly taking small sips of water in the kitchen. She doesn't want to be in the same room with a stranger. Better yet; the new "add-on" to NewJeans.

What in the world was Min Hee Jin thinking when she chose to add you in the final solution? Haerin is positive she could never fathom the idea of it.

How good could you even be for their CEO to request you personally? Why couldn't you just stay at SM instead of ruining her and the others' careers?

With a frustrated and clearly upset expression, Haerin dumps out the remaining water from the glass before leaving it in the sink.

"All I have to do is grab my phone and cap while pretending she's not there." The cat-eyed mumbles to herself, reaching her hand out to turn the doorknob of her room.

However, she halts upon hearing laughter coming from her room.

"Y/N, if you ever need anyone to talk to or help, feel free to come to me!" Hanni's voice from inside leaves Haerin's eyebrows to furrow.

With a confused expression now, Haerin pushes the door open, grabbing both you and Hanni's attention.

"What's going on here?"

The Vietnamese female smiles, her arms wrapping around your waist to pull you in closer by her side. "I was just helping our new member unpack before practice starts."

"She's my roommate, why are you helping her?" The raven-haired honestly has no clue what irked her to say that, especially in front of you where she deliberately walked out upon you asking for help.

Hanni makes a side-eyeing face at the way her member is acting strange. "Chill! She was struggling on making her clothes fit in the space."

"Well, I can take it from here." Haerin shortly responds, her eyes gazing intently at the other's arm around you. "You can go ahead and start heading to practice, the van is already out waiting for us."

Hanni can only pout, releasing her grip on you. "Kang Haerin, you really are in a bad mood today, huh."

Before the feline-like female could open her mouth to defend herself, the Vietnamese stomps out her old room, not forgetting to bid a goodbye to you and NOT Haerin.

"She was already helping me." You simply state, turning back around to continue unpacking the rest of your clothes.

"Well, sounds more like you two were goofing around instead of doing what needs to be done." Haerin responds, a bit aggravated at the fact that you seem to like being with Hanni more than her.

You couldn't help but make a face at the tone of her. "There is something called multitasking, you know."

"There is a time in which we need to get to practice, Y/N." She replies, kneeling besides you to help with unpacking.

The silence between you two was unbearable and you can't help but to hate being near your roommate based off of the first impressions.

Being at another company's practice room was never a thought for you. You had always figured you'd be at SM forever. Who would've thought you'd be standing here at HYBE's infamous black practice room with the members of NewJeans.

"It's so big here, I feel like I could get lost if I was here by myself." You say, looking around the halls while following behind your new members.

Danielle turns around, beaming happily. "We could never leave you by yourself here!"

"Thanks Danielle." You smile back, leaving the Australian to gasp quietly at your cute eye-smile before turning back forward.

Haerin rolls her eyes from behind, trudging slowly after you. She wishes you WOULD get lost in here and never come back.

"I bet it's way different here compared to SM, huh?" Minji asks from the front.

You let out a hum in response. "Very. But I like it here already compared to being at SM."

"I'm glad!" Hanni excitedly says, linking her arms with you. "We can't wait for you to perform with us. You deserve it, Y/N."

Haerin wonders how long you've been at SM to suddenly drop the company and come over to HYBE, most importantly debuting into a group that has already debuted. Aren't you afraid of what netizens would say?

The female wonders how someone could be so selfish to their own-being. She could never leave everything like that and attempt to something even bigger.

"Surely, if Min Hee Jin CEO personally requested her, she for sure deserves to be on stage with us." Hyein nods, looking at you with a certain admiration. "I give props to you, unnie!"

Haerin gazes at you intently, wondering what's going on in your head right now. She's sure you could feel her looking upon you, she sees the way you sort of side-eyed her before replying to the youngest.

"Thank you, Hyeinnie." You could only laugh in response, however, there's pressure rising upon your body at the younger's words. "But don't expect much from me."

Wrong move.

Haerin can't help but to let out a quiet scoff, however, it doesn't get past her members nor you.

"Haerin-ah?" Minji calls out, turning around to face the feline-like female with a stern face.

Haerin hums in response.

"Is everything alright?"

Getting a nod in response from the introvert, Minji could only sigh, letting it go. But she knows something is wrong with Haerin. Can't quite put her finger on it but she KNOWS.

"Lets go guys! Practice is waiting for us!" Hanni breaks the slightly risen tension, pushing Danielle and Hyein into the practice room.

Minji waits for you up ahead, a small smile on her lips. You tilt your head at the leader, wondering what she wants to speak to you about.

"Minji, is there anything you want to say to me?"

The oldest looks at you with a gentle look. "I know it's terrifying to be placed suddenly into a new place, a new team, and a new environment. I understand very well. I hope you don't overwork yourself and just enjoy it. And if you ever need someone to listen or talk to, I'm here as a leader, your member, a friend and family."

Minji's face falls into shock as tears slowly fall from your eyes. "Oh! I-"

"-Thank you for those words." You bow towards her, the feeling of pressure levitating off of your shoulders and you can't help but to feel grateful and lucky for getting this opportunity. "I promise I won't let this team down."

Haerin once again give you one last look before clenching her jaw and proceeding to walk past both Minji and you.

"Let's get to practicing, shall we?" The older smiles, disappearing off into the very dimly lit room.

Because it's your first day as an artist under HYBE and as a member of NewJeans, you knew you had to work extra hard. Extremely hard.

Being back at SM, you didn't know when you would or wouldn't debut. Ever since the age of 6, hope continuously kept getting broken which led to motivation getting broken as well. You still worked hard but not as hard as you have to work now.

But just now, when you made a mistake during ETA, you suddenly feel your whole world crumbling down. The pressure you had back at SM taking over your entire body and you just want to huddle your knees to your chest and sob with no care in the world.

Haerin couldn't help but roll her eyes as she walks away to drink from her water bottle. There is no way the trainee that Min Hee Jin specifically requested just messed up on the most easiest move throughout the whole choreography more than 5 times already.

This is honestly just a waste of time in Haerin's head.

"I'm sorry." You immediately turn around to face the others and the dance instructor. "I don't know what happened..."

Both Danielle and Hanni are in awe at how your eyes look so sad yet beautiful at the same time.

"Y/N, it's okay!" Hanni reassures you, coming up to hug you in comfort.

However, Minji doesn't fail to notice how a specific feline-like female could only huff in frustration. The leader gets it; she does. She understands how Haerin, being one of the best dancers in the group could get irritated at something small like this. But, Minji feels that Haerin should give you a chance, after all; it is your first day.

"How about we take the rest of the day off, girls?" The dance instructor suggests, giving you a warm smile. "Let Y/N get used to this environment."

Everyone nods immediately, agreeing with the older woman.

"Great. I'll see you all tomorrow then."

Minji, being the oldest and brightest in the team, she has the perfect plan rolled up her little sleeves.

"Let's throw a small welcome party for Y/N."

Hanni notices a specific look in Minji's eyes; a little trick is getting played.

"Hanni and I will get the food while Hyein and Jihye will get the party supplies. Haerin, I want you to keep Y/N accompanied."

This has got to be some sick joke at this point.

"You've got to be kidding me." Haerin whispers to herself.

Minji smiles, leaving the cat eyed female twitching in frustration. "Haerin-ah, you're older than Y/N by three days. You two will get along just fine."

To say getting along was an understatement.

"Hey, can you accompany me to the cafeteria?" You ask, finally standing up after arranging your half of the dorm. "I can't eat alone."

Haerin looks up from her phone, for a minute; you would think she's contemplating about accompanying you. However, she just looks at you with an unreadable expression and goes back to what she's doing.

"The others will come back with food."

Great.

"Minji said that you'll accompany me though..." you can only mumble to yourself, having the other let out a short deny and sigh before leaving the room.

Haerin does not understand why she cannot absolutely stand you AT ALL.

Leaving the dorm, the feline-like female uses the elevator to the nearby convenience store. She's only going for vitamins and a refreshing drink. Surely, it would not take long. Leaving you by yourself will be just fine.

With a hum of content to herself, she nods while leaving the elevator to go into the store.

Within the second of entering the convenience store, she gets stopped by a few snacks up at front. Her mind suddenly thinks about you. Without hesitation, she picks out a couple of bags to put into her basket.

Meanwhile, your mouth hangs low while staring at the closed door in shock.

"Did she just leave?" You ask to yourself in surprise.

Never in your years of being at SM were you treated like this. And you were a trainee.

With shoulders hanging low in regret and now inconsideration on taking up this offer of debuting, you can only walk out your dorm room to go to the kitchen to find anything to eat.

Examining the many counters of the pretty big kitchen, you hear the beeps from the door's keypad being dialed in. Shortly after, the door opens which reveals the member that left the dorm earlier.

"Eat it or not; doesn't matter to me." Haerin could only say, placing the bag on the kitchen's island countertop.

Before Haerin could get the chance to leave, you cross your arm in frustration “Why are you like this?”

The cat-eyed female looks shocked for a second. She stares at you in complete silence before opening her mouth to say something.

"Look, I dont know how things worked around at your previous company but here we dont mess around during practice, it would be great if you stopped being a nuisance to others.” 

“I havent even started my official day as a NewJeans member. How could you judge me already?” 

“if you dont want me to have a bias, at least stop messing up on the choreography every step."

This has got to be the exciting yet worse day for you.

october 1, 2023; publishing date

haerin doesn't know what to do about her hidden immediate love for y/n hehehehe

part 3 is coming soon!!

taglist: @ilovekimminji

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.” 

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Going through two moods right now where part of me wants something soft with injured Raphael after the fight in house of hope and then another bit of me wants a mean bully Haarlep that involves breeding and pregnancy ;-;

-Two Separate Stories-

Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡: 18+ - Breeding - Pregnancy - Bully/Mean Haarlep - Hurt/ Comfort

Raphael x GN!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡: Hurt/ Comfort - Soft Raphael - Realizing Feelings

Notes: BOTH!!!! I pick both anon!!! I hope you enjoy these both and I loooooved writing the Haarlep one <3 thank you!!! xoxo

⋆˙⟡ Mean Haarlep ⟡˙⋆

Haarlep was still an incubus despite them showing you their hidden kindness, it was in his nature to -at times- relishes in your misery. For whatever reason, Haarlep enjoyed these torments more so while you were swollen with their little one. Perhaps it was simply because they were the only one allowed to do this to you, and without repercussions. 

Today was one of those days, where their nature got the best of Haarlep and he made you ride him while they sat back and watched you struggle to get yourself off. His hand on the swell of your stomach, “Ride me, or I may be forced to find another willing soul for the day~,” they purred against your ear, and you could feel him smile at the whine that left you. 

You tried your hardest, even though the child within made it nearly impossible for you to move the way Haarlep was used to, even though they were the only one who could make you feel so full, “Ha-Haarlep,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks as you continued to struggle. Your cunt fluttering around their thick cock, as you whimpered. 

He hummed softly, their fingers dancing up your spine, “Yes, my pet~?” They kissed your jaw.

They loved seeing you so needy, so frustrated, as you try to bounce on their cock, Haarlep even had to stifle their laugh as he felt your nails dig into their shoulders, steadying yourself as you attempted to fuck yourself on their cock once more, but never hitting that special spot within, never bringing you closer to the release that you were searching for.

“I-I can't-“ You sobbed, burying your face into their shoulder, “Haaarrrlep!! P-please!! I-I-“

“Shhh, there there, my little pet~" they hummed, rubbing your pregnant belly, “It’s quite hard being pregnant with my little one, isn't it~? Don't worry, I'm sure I can find someone else who can pleasure me, maybe even let you watch~” they mused, “How does that sound? Your incubus, deep in some other mortal's hole~?”

You shook your head, “N-no! N-no, no, no! I-I'm sorry, I'll-I'll keep going,” you sobbed.

“Good~ Good~,” Haarlep hummed, cupping your chin, their thumb tracing over your bottom lip, “Now, open up~”

You whimpered, opening your mouth as Haarlep slid their thumb between your parted lips, their nail gliding across your tongue before you closed your lips around the digit. Haarlep thought you were so pretty like this, your tummy swollen with their spawn, sucking on their finger, so fucking desperate to cum, sobbing around their thumb as your breast leaked milk all over their chest.

The incubus groaned, their free hand going to your breast, their thumb rubbing over your nipple, “Oh, look at you, my dear~ You're leaking everywhere,” they smiled, “How does it feel? Knowing that all you can do is sit here and leak milk all over your incubus instead of cumming~” they mused, watching the way your eyes fluttered close as your milk dribbled down their wrist. 

You were truly a sight to see, and Haarlep couldn't wait until their little demon was born. They were already looking forward to putting another child in you, just so they could see you like this again.

“Such a mess~” Haarlep hummed, pulling their thumb from your mouth, smearing saliva along your cheek.

You panted, your head falling against Haarlep's shoulder once more, your shoulders shaking as tears and drool covered your face. You buried your face into Haarlep, your voice breaking with apologies, “I- I’m sorry- I- I can't- I- so sorry- I-“ you felt like such a failure, you couldn't even make Haarlep feel good, much less yourself. 

You could barely move with how heavy your stomach had become. Tilting your head, you could see the bulge of your stomach- your hand falling from Haarlep’s shoulder to cover their much larger hand, your thumb brushing over your stretched skin with Haarlep’s, feeling the little one moving around.

Your head turned away, closing your eyes, “Haarlep… please don’t leave me- I- I promise I can do better- I-I can- just- please- I-I promise I- I- can be better- I- just please- don't- I- I need you- and-and the baby needs you- and- please- please, please, please, please- please don't- please- Haarlep- please-" You cried, begging.

Haarlep chuckled, wrapping their arms around you, holding you close, their cock still buried deep inside of you, “Don't fret, little dove. I'm not going anywhere~,” They smiled, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, “I am yours and you are mine, remember? It’s what you said after Raphael’s demise, do you not remember, dove~?”

You sniffled, nodding.

Haarlep chuckled, humming happily as you pressed yourself as close to them as you could, your milky breasts pressing against their chest. It felt nice to hold you like this, your warm body against theirs, their little spawn kicking up a storm inside of you. It was perfect.

But the night was still young.

Haarlep pulled back, looking down at you, his hand going to cup your cheek, their thumb wiping away your tears, “Come now, why are you crying? We both know how much you love being stuffed full of my cock,” with a snap of their hips, the incubus grinned when he heard you cry out in pleasure, “even if you can't get yourself off, we both know how nice it feels to have my cock stretching your walls out,” Haarlep thrusted up into you, groaning.

You moaned, throwing your head back, gasping as Haarlep fucked up into you, their nails digging into your hips, dragging you down onto their cock, “How much you enjoy sitting on my cock while I watch your swollen teats leak all over the place~”

You shivered, their words causing you to clench around their length, your fingers curling into their chest, “Nh~♡! S’feels go-good!”

Haarlep smirked, continuing their thrusts, the incubus licking their lips, watching your expression, how blissed out you looked, and that’s when he’d put you in the meanest mating press of your life, flipping you over and burying their cock so deep into your pussy, Haarlep swore that they could feel the tip of their cock knocking into your womb.

It was a delicious pain that shot up your spine as the incubus relentlessly made contact with your cervix. You couldn’t do anything, your mouth falling open, “Nnuh~ Haarlep~ ♡!! I-I- I'm-! I'm gonna-!!”

“Then do it, dove~ Cum around my cock~ Let me feel how good I make you feel~,"

⋆˙⟡ Wounded Raphael ⟡˙⋆

The fight between you and Raphael was rough, the echoes of your battle reverberating through his House Of Hope. As the final curtain fell on Raphael's little act, you managed to catch the devil, breaking his fall before the ground could claim him.

As Raphael lay weakened, you noticed something unexpected in his eyes, a hint of fear, a plea for mercy... Despite his devilish nature, you couldn't ignore the vulnerability that surfaced in this moment… He was scared…

Cradling his wounded head on your lap, you gently caressed Raphael's wounded cheek, feeling a sense of empathy for your supposed foe. You could hear your companions in the back, they were telling you to finish him, to end this little game of cat and mouse… But you ignored them all.

All you cared about was healing Raphael, searching desperately for a potion, you were determined to save him. Uncorking the vial with your teeth, never once letting go of Raphael's cheek, you tipped the healing liquid into your own mouth before leaning down and pressing your lips to his. Forcing him to swallow it all with a heartfelt kiss, the very thing you’ve secretly been wishing for…

As the healing potion began to take effect, you hummed a sweet melody, trying to comfort the weakened fiend resting in your lap. Despite his fury at being bested by a mere mortal, Raphael couldn’t deny the unexpected comfort that radiated from you and your chest, soothing his boiling blood.

“Little mouse,” Raphael's voice was quiet, fragile almost… And then with the feel of your gentle touch against his horns, his eyes finally closed, it was a sensation he had never experienced before.

When Raphael awoke, he found himself in an unfamiliar state, his head throbbed, his body ached, and worst of all his pride was shattered. His long lashes fluttered open, and to his surprise, he felt a warmth in his hand. Looking over, he discovered you resting at the side of his bed, your hand entwined with his, a gesture of comfort, perhaps even hope. 

The room was quiet, save for the gentle rhythm of your breathing and his own heartbeat, which, to his annoyance, seemed to sync with yours. 

"Why?,” he whispered, his voice meant for only himself. It was a question loaded with the weight of his confusion, his anger, and a dangerous curiosity. Why had you saved him? Why had you, his pawn, chosen mercy? He scowled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, a touch so gentle that the devil barely recognized the hand as his own.

He should be furious, flaying your skin as he contemplates your endless torment for the insolence of showing him mercy and bringing chaos into his world, for the audacity of touching him so tenderly. 

His gaze shifted from your hands to your face, to the serene expression that adorned your features as you slept. He watched as your chest rose and fell, the rise a silent testament to your living soul. What a foolish creature you were, willingly staying in the jaws of the fox, offering compassion where none was deserved. As you stirred slightly in your sleep, a small, involuntary smile pulled at the corner of your lips.

The sight tugged at something deep within Raphael, the fox had been outfoxed, not by trickery or force, but by a heart he didn't know he could still feel. He found himself wondering, perhaps for the first time he was bested due to him wishing not to see his little mouse fall. This wretched human side of him…. Perhaps he lost because of his own foolishness, wishing to step out of the jaws of his own darkness and into the gentle embrace of another's light.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

I must say: I’m genuinely impressed by how creative all your stories are. I have three questions related to your writing process, if you don’t mind.

1) How do you stay motivated to keep creating?

2) Where do you find inspiration?

3) have you ever had an idea for a scene that you struggled to execute? How did you work through that to write the scene?

I love your stories! I look forward to every chapter of Charlie McNamara.

1) Motivation to create has never been an issue for me -- there's always some new thing to write about! My issue, and the issue faced by a lot of other writers, is the motivation to stick with a project to completion. That's hard. Everyone's got a hundred "works in progress" they'll never touch again because they took a break and when they came back, their attention was on something new and shiny.

My solution to this? Money.

The reason I started Curse Words as a web serial and opened a patreon for it wasn't because I ever expected to be able to make a living as a writer. I'm as surprised as anyone that so many kind people have put their support behind me and let me keep writing these fucked up stories instead of getting a real job. I did it because I wasn't getting my projects finished. I was doing what we all do; getting three quarters of the way through any given project and then finding something more fun to work on instead. And when you risk disappointing readers by doing that, well, that'll get you back in the seat over the little bumps, maybe pull you back to a project a few times. But when people are paying you actual cash in return for consistent output, on time, to story completion? That's a way bigger motivator. Even if it's just one guy. For a long time, I had one patron! It was enough! It worked! It's not about making a lot of money, which is borderline impossible as a writer (again, I still can't believe my supporters are so generous enough that i can make this my career). But it acts as some level of both proof that your work is valued, and an active obligation on your part to keep producing it on a consistent schedule. My readers are giving me something valuable for this. I can't let them down.

Sorry, I'm sure you wanted a more uplifting kind of answer. But that's just what works for me.

2) I've never really been sure how to take this question. This is basically the age-old 'where do you get your ideas?' and it... doesn't have an answer. You think of a thing and you write about it. As you resolve the problems and inconsistencies in the thing, that fills out more and more of the world of the story.

Angel is born of a mediocre Goosebumps book called Chicken, Chicken. There's a part in the book where the protagonist, slowly shapeshifting into a chicken, rips all his feathers out every morning in an attempt to slow the transformation. The book isn't really about that but it stuck with me for a good two decades until, stuck in the house for two months at the beginning of Covid, I wrote Angel.

Void Princess and The princess in the Tower are both me musing on the old 'princess kidnapped by a dragon' trope. I get really fixated on this trope for some reason; I have four or five others swimming about in my head that aren't full stories ready for the page yet. Wasting Time is just the song Pushin' the Speed of Light, World Builder was written in a fever right after watching Jacob Geller's The Shape of Infinity, Copykate was initially going to be a SAYER fanfic but required enough alterations to the setting that it worked better as a story of its own. The inspiration is out there, the ideas are out there. It's just a matter of practice to turn them into stories.

3) I try to avoid scenes that are hard for me to depict, but this isn't always possible. I'm aphantasiac and struggle a lot with scenes that have a lot of heavy visual elements. Scenes where there's a lot going on that needs to be fairly precisely depicted are tricky, too.

One particularly difficult scene for me was a fight scene in Time to Orbit: Unknown. There's about six people in a small room fighting over the fate of a bunch of other people who are not present, and the reader needs to be kept up to date on the physical positions/activity/intentions of all the combatants, the villain explaining what he's doing and why (lying), the protagonist figuring out that he's lying, the physical condition (injuries, being restrained, et cetera) of all of the combatants, and the fate of the half of the crew not in the room, all with enough detail that the reader can understand the stakes, consequences, and enough of the moment-to-moment logic of the fight that nobody's decisions are confusing. The whole thing is very fast paced and... it's a lot. It's always a difficult balance in these scenes because you want to be detailed enough to keep the reader following everything they want to follow, but you don't want to dramatically slow down the story by describing every detail. If you're using a limited viewpoint, it's a blessing and a curse; you can avoid narrating the stuff your character can't see or isn't paying attention to, but you also have to find a way to get across information that your character might not be able to see, either by forcing them to see it or by having it conveyed in some other way in the scene. With busy scenes like this, I like to work backwards -- decide what specifically the reader needs to know, decide what is needed to get the characters to the places I want them at the end of the scene, and write a scene with as little as possible in it except for those two things. Sometimes, communicating those two things requires a bit of setup.

In Curse Words, there's an ancient magic spell passed down a family line from parent to child. It's a communication spell that allows people to see through each others' eyes and hear through their ears. Before the existence of long-distance wireless communications, this sort of information transfer was enormously powerful; wars can be turned with that power, trade networks created or conquered. It made its family enormously powerful, to the point where they're the most powerful magical family in the world even in the time of the story, with the spell long buried and its advantage lost to an age of mobile phones and cameras. It's massively influential to the worldbuilding of the story.

I introduced it for one reason and one reason alone -- I knew that eventually, I would be writing a climax to the story where a lot of people were doing a lot of things in a lot of different locations, and the protagonist was only going to be in one of those places. And I knew that I was going to need some way to tell the audience what the fuck was happening while he was running around in caves and shit.

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster (8)

Pairing: Chan x Reader x Felix

Warning: Violence, Mentions of Blood etc

Word Count: 1.2k

Taglist: @bluebeard67 @stephanieeeyang @stayatinykatsy @thicccurls @thecutiepieme @kayleefriedchicken @msauthor @purple-bell @bluesiebirdie @jisunglyricist @skzdust @hash2013 @skzooluvr @minh0scat @kkamismom12

@gloriajovicc @mouseyboo @chloe-elise-2000 @jiminssluttyminx

@maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @ambersnowxxx

@ayyonoona @31maze13

@silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz

Previous Chapters

“Please!” You cry out. “Please don't!” Panic sets in as Seojoon walks closer to you, his hand gripping onto something. Your eyes are having a hard time focusing as you watch him get closer with each step, Mia standing off to the side giggling while she watches you trying to rip the chains from the ceiling. You're not strong enough, your shoulders ache so badly as you struggle, trying to swing your legs up to kick him as he stands in front of you. You look down, seeing a long whip in his hands and your stomach sinks.

“Please.” You whisper. “Don't. What do you want from me!?” You scream.

“Well.” Mia starts. “I'd like for you to start minding your goddamn business. If you're told to stay out of something, that doesn't mean keep meddling!” She shouts. Her fists clench as she stares at you. You look between her and Seojoon, he stands there chuckling, looking down at her hands.

“Hit her.” He says. “It'll help relieve stress. You'll feel better.”

Mia looks at him, she's surprised he even suggested that. She opens her mouth to say something but closes it, instead, pulls her arm back, swinging at you, hitting you directly in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

You hang there coughing, trying to catch your breath as she cocks her arm back again, this time hitting your face as you're gasping for air.

“Wow.” Mia chuckles. “It's working.” She smiles, raising her hand, slapping you hard across the face. Your stomach and face burn, you can feel blood dripping from your lip or nose, you have no idea which one.

“You gotta let me have some fun too.” Seojoon chuckles, setting down his whip. “This is gonna be for the three absolutely agonizing years I had to fucking suffer through with you.” He says, hitting you with a closed fist, directly in the nose. You scream out loudly as you begin to cry. You desperately prayed that Wonho told Chan what had happened, he was your only chance at getting out of here.

“God. So many times I had wanted to do this to you. Being with you was so insufferable.” He chuckles, grabbing a chunk of your hair, pulling your head up. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.” He scoffs. You try to focus your eyes but you struggle to look at him or Mia, your head is spinning.

“Please stop.” You whisper, spitting blood from your mouth.

“You know you wouldn't be in this position had you just listened to us.” He laughs. “I wish your father had asked me to be with you.” Seojoon smiles, looking over at Mia.

“You are now, that's all that matters.” Mia giggles, walking closer to him.

“That's right, baby.” Seojoon says, pulling Mia in for a sloppy kiss.

“He's fucking married.” You cough.

Seojoon hits you harder than last time. “Do you ever fucking learn?” He snaps. “Try minding your goddamn business.”

“I know he's married. I don't care.” Mia tells you.

“What about Felix?” You whimper.

“What about him?” Mia scoffs. “He's part of a job, nothing fucking more. Once Chan, Felix and Mr. Lee are out of the picture, Seojoon will leave his wife.”

Seojoon coughs, stepping back from Mia, looking through the tools laid out on the table. “Right?” She asks.

“Now's not the time for this bullshit, Mia.” He snaps. “Are you gonna let the wedding happen Y/N and stop getting in the fucking way?” He asks.

“You think…I'm gonna let Felix…marry that cunt?” You gasp. “Think again.”

“I say we just fucking kill her.” Seojoon spits, reaching in the waist of his pants, pulling out a gun. He cocks it, pointing it at your head.

“Mia?” You hear your dad calling.

“Don't say a fucking word.” Mia says to you.

“Coming daddy.” She yells, looking between you and Seojoon. “Don't do anything until I get back.”

You watch as Mia goes up the stairs, leaving you alone with the psychopath.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Seojoon huffs. “Clearly beating you isn't getting the message across…what is it gonna take?” He sighs. “Maybe…” He trails off, turning around. He grabs a knife from the tray, turning back to you. He grins as he jabs the knife into the fabric of your shirt, cutting it all the way up until it hangs open, exposing your bra. “You know, these really were the only good things about you.” He chuckles. “You've always had great tits.” He says, his hands resting on your waist.

“If you don't take your fucking hands off her, I'll blow your goddamn brains out.” You hear from the stairs. Your head snaps up, seeing the shadow of Chan through your blurry and swollen eyes.

“The fuck are you gonna do about it?” Seojoon scoffs, turning to look at you before back at Chan.

“You think there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect this girl?” Chan asks. “I've been to prison.” He chuckles, walking closer to Seojoon. “And I'm not fucking afraid to go back.”

Seojoon runs back the way he originally came out but Chan doesn't chase after him. He rushes towards you, grabbing a chair for you to stand on before he starts working on breaking the chains around your wrists. You sob as he releases one wrist, the relief and the pain was too much.

Chan gets your other wrist free, causing you to collapse onto him. He holds onto you tightly, picking you up and carrying you up the stairs.

“The wedding is in a few weeks…” You barely hear your father say before trailing off. “Y/N? Chan?” He gasps, rushing towards you. “What the fuck happened?”

“Why don't you ask your other daughter?” Chan growls.

Your father looks at Mia, who sits there trying to act innocent. “I told you a little bit!” Your father snaps.

“It was mostly Seojoon.” You mumble.

“Seojoon did this?” Your dad asks. His voice was calmer than it had ever been, and that was always so much scarier.

“Daddy… I can…” Mia trails off.

“My office, now.” He says.

Chan doesn't say anything, instead takes your limp body out of the house, placing you in the backseat of the car and peeling out of the driveway.

You must have passed out, when you came to, you were back in Chan’s arms, being taken into his house.

“What happened?” You hear a deep familiar voice.

“You're future fucking wife happened.” Chan snaps, taking you upstairs to his room. He walks in, closing the door behind him before laying you down on his bed.

“You saved me.” You mumble.

“Of course I did.” He laughs.

“Thank you.” You whisper, groaning as you try to get comfy in his bed. Your body ached and throbbed.

“I'm going to get you some medicine.” He whispers as you doze off, finally feeling safe.

Over the next week, Chan never left your side, bringing you everything you needed and wanted to help your body heal. Your bruises had almost faded, and the rest of your body was close to being fully recovered.

“How are you feeling?” Chan asks.

“So much better.” You smile. “I can't thank you enough.”

“For what?” He asks.

“For everything. For saving me…taking care of me, nursing me back to health… for it all.” You smile. “I've never had anyone care this much for me.” You say, as he comes and sits next to you on the bed.

“I'd go to the ends of the fucking earth for you.” Chan says. “I'd do anything you asked of me.”

“Why?” You whisper.

“Because I'm so fucking in love with you.”

[ezwezz]

can you do a scenario where the reader and chaewon are casually hanging and they get touchy to the point where one of them realizes how close they are, but the other is oblivious? (bro I'm so delulu for chaewon i need to stop)

of course! sorry for the late response and short length, but here's to quality over quantity?

sweet revenge

pairings: kim chaewon x reader genre: fluff! words: 685

"yah get away from me!" you squealed as chaewon attempted to wipe her cookie dough-covered hands on your shirt.

"you're being a bad sport!"

"i just don't want to get my hands dirty!"

"that's what baking is all about!? you were literally the one who suggested we make cookies for our members."

"mushing your hands around in the dough isn't the only part of baking cookies! i helped in other ways, like weighing the ingredients."

"but mushing your hands around in the dough is the best part! come on y/n, don't make me go all 'leader' on you right now."

"are you threatening me?"

"maybe...so i suggest you join in, or else." there was a slight smirk playing on chaewon's lips, but the threat certainly felt real to you- she was pretty scary when asserting her leader authority.

"alright fine." you begrudgingly agreed, rolling up your sleeves as you approached the bowl. "your superiority complex is starting to get out of hand."

"if my superiority complex gets you to bake cookies properly, then i think not."

"psh whatever." you nudged her with your shoulder before reluctantly diving your hands into the sticky batter. "this feels weird."

"you'll get used to it." chaewon replied with a giggle before proceeding to wash her hands in the sink.

as you kneaded the cookie dough, chaewon prepared the kitchen surface with flour- an idea coming to her mind moments later.

you suddenly felt the woman boop your nose and glanced up at her in confusion, causing her to chuckle loudly.

"what's so funny?"

"nothing..."

"okay...?" you went back to work, but chaewon continued to stare at you. the little spot of flour on your nose made you look adorable amidst your concentration, she couldn't help but smile softly in admiration.

"i can feel you staring, what is it?"

"oh uh-"

you look pretty

"it's nothing. just waiting for you to finish."

"don't put pressure on me! it's almost ready just look away."

chaewon giggled once again and did as you requested, busying herself with organising the cookie cutters. little did she know you took that opportunity to inspect your reflection in the nearby window and found just what you'd suspected. two can play that game.

"alright i'm done." you announced once the dough was adequate.

"hey that looks good! i told you it was fun."

"hmm, it wasn't so bad after a while." you mused while washing your hands, devising a revenge plot.

as the leader began to remove the dough from the bowl and place it onto the floured work surface, you subtly placed both your hands flat on a patch of it. chaewon was too focused to notice how they were now covered in the substance.

"you look so pretty chae." you cooed before slyly holding her face in your hands.

"oh i.." luckily you were covering her cheeks so her blush wasn't noticeable.

chaewon struggled to grasp for an appropriate response when all she could focus on was the compromising position she was in. something about receiving affection from you made her yearn for it, and it was rare of you to be so forward as you were in that moment.

instead of replying, chaewon wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you slightly closer. it felt natural, the way your hands cupped her cheeks and her arms rested behind your back. her eyes scanned your features, savouring the closeness of your pretty eyes and the curve of your tempting lips.

"you look pretty too." she mumbled.

however, to her confusion, you began to giggle.

"you're funny." and as quick as it had happened, you drew away. chaewon felt her stomach lurch a little as you did so. she wanted so desperately for you to reciprocate her actions and draw her even closer, but you were now hurrying to retrieve something.

"what are you looking for?" the leader questioned, failing to mask the disheartenment in her voice.

"got it." you replied, holding your phone victoriously. "let's take a selfie."

"okay?"

when the camera revealed her powered cheeks chaewon let out a screech and slapped you playfully.

"what the heck y/n!?" you continued to laugh until your sides hurt, you now had some good pictures for leverage against your leader and her superiority complex.

[kodaiki]

꒰ 12:37 P.M. ꒱ ❛ hogwarts bbf!dan heng x reader ༉‧₊˚✧

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘, leaning against a stone column in the corner of the courtyard, the air around you crisp with the chill of winter. there's a chatter of voices among them as the hour of lunch passes you by. fellow students pass by, their footsteps muffled by the layer of snow from the storm a few nights prior. the atmosphere is hushed, the winter silence broken only by the distant sounds of laughter and the occasional gust of wind. lunch hour is in full swing, and while your housemates are likely warming up in the great hall, you're out here.

you would be –correction, should be – in the great hall, probably enjoying some warm food with your fellow house buddies and not freezing to death but alas, procrastination is your rival once again, taunting you as you scribble down the best you can your homework for herbology without any distractions. you gnaw your lip through your struggles, your hair falling in front of your face, slightly swaying from the brisk winter breeze painting your nose pink.

your quill moves across the parchment as you work on your herbology homework, your breath visible in the cold air when you take a deep sigh. the crunch of footsteps drawing near makes a presence known to you, but still, your eyes remain focused on your task at hand.

“and what’s my baby sister up to today?” a deep voice chimes from above you paired with a chuckle.

“work, go away,” is your curt response as you barely look up to meet your older brother’s amused glance your way.

“but where’s the fun in that?” blade muses, stepping closer to your sitting figure, his feet crushing the fallen leaves beneath his feet.

it’s when you look up to glare at your seventh year brother when you notice the other pair of eyes looking your way, quietly standing behind blade. your brows raise and eyes widen at the sight. when your eyes meet, the guy quickly averts his gaze and instead, turns his attention to grass.

"hey dan heng," you murmur a light greeting, your tone a blatant shift from the way you’d spoken to your brother. your chin dips into the striped scarf around your neck showing off your house's colors as you feel the winter air tickle your nose.

blade, in turn, rolls his eyes at the obviousness of your tone and softened gaze.

"hey," dan heng replies curtly, offering a nod of acknowledgment. blade swings an arm over his shoulder, shaking dan heng slightly as he hoists him closer, to which he makes a sour and slightly uncomfortable, expression.

"oh, now that i've found you, dear baby sis, we could probably use some advice," blade drawls with a sly smile on his face. in return, your face twists into slight confusion as you tilt your head to the side in question. it seems that you're the only who doesn't know what he's talking about because dan heng quite literally freezes, his throat bobbing slightly.

"advice about what?" you raise an eyebrow, now no longer the slightest bit interested in your homework due in a few short hours.

"well, the yule ball's coming up in a few weeks," blade begins, wiggling his brows knowingly. you nod along, scratching the side of your head, briefly glancing at dan heng, wondering how he could need advice from you of all people. "do you have a date?" your brother then asks. you can't tell if it's a genuine question or if he's looking for a reason to tease you.

"no, i don't," you answer simply, glancing back down at your homework. you miss the way blade turns to look at dan heng. "so, what advice do you need?"

"well, as you're well aware, i'm probably going to ask kafka, my near and dear best friend,” he drawls as if it’s obvious. your eyebrows raise, well aware of his platonic soulmate bond with the purple haired student. though, over time you truly wonder if it’s platonic or not. “but dan heng here is busy beating himself up wondering how to ask his crush," blade finishes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. he smirks knowingly, clearly enjoying the revelation that he just dropped on you.

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise and your eyes widen slightly at the implication that dan heng has someone in mind to ask to the yule ball. not only that, it must mean he has some form of a serious crush on someone, period. the air seems to thicken with an unspoken tension as you process blade's words. the image of dan heng asking someone to the yule ball takes on a new significance, and a strange mix of emotions swirls within you.

"dan heng, a crush?" you ask, trying to keep your tone casual even though your mind is buzzing with curiosity – and maybe some buried jealousy.

blade chuckles, enjoying the reaction he has stirred. "oh yeah. he's been overthinking it for days, probably even longer. poor guy doesn't know whether to go for a grand gesture or something simple. it's like watching a potions experiment gone wrong."

“oh,” you say in acknowledgment, glancing at dan heng with your softest-least-obvious smile his way. he rolls his eyes at blade's tone of words, obviously speaking as if he isn't standing right beside him.

“so that's what brings us to you, y/n. personally, how would you-” blade begins to ask in a light-toned, almost nonchalant voice when he's nudged in the gut by dan heng. “hey, rude,” blade grunts at him, but brushes off the elbow to his side. “how would you want to be asked to the ball? i can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears when he’s pacing around our room.”

“i don’t pace,” dan heng quickly cuts in and it’s the first time he’s spoken since he and blade arrived at the courtyard.

“sure you don’t,” blade rolls his eyes. your brother turns back to you. “so? how’d you wanna be asked?”

you swallow back the lump in your throat and avert your gaze to the parchment of your unfinished herbology homework, though your mind is no longer focused on the intricate details of magical plants at the moment. the subtle revelation that dan heng has someone in mind for the yule ball has captured your attention, and you can't help but wonder who the lucky girl might be, though it does leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

you have no reason to feel this way, of course. as far as you're concerned, dan heng is your older brother's best friend. you've only ever been around him for reason of association since blade just loves to tease and poke fun at you, and you've always seen dan heng as a reliable friend. yet, as you continue to feign interest in your herbology homework, the image of dan heng asking someone to the yule ball lingers in your mind.

"well," you begin, tapping the quill against the parchment thoughtfully, as you attempt to push whatever negative emotions are bubbling in your system, "i suppose a simple and sincere approach is always nice. maybe a heartfelt note or even a private conversation."

blade feigns a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand for dramatic effect. "bo-oring...and here i thought you'd go for something more grand and romantic. you know, like a surprise invitation under the stars or a magically enchanted message."

"well, those can be nice too, but sometimes simplicity holds its own charm. it's the thought and effort that count the most." you recall earlier in the week when march 7th was asked to the yule ball with a grandiose sign and flashmob in the middle of lunch. of course, she adored it, but you couldn't imaging sitting through that without feeling a little second hand embarrassment.

dan heng seems to be listening intently, though he's doing a poor job of pretending not to be. you catch his eyes briefly, and this time, he doesn't look away as quickly. there's a subtle warmth in his gaze that you can't quite decipher, but you offer him an encouraging smile.

blade, ever the perceptive older brother, grins knowingly. "i think that's some solid advice, don't you think?" he asks, nudging his friend beside him. it's almost like blade is staring through dan heng, and you can tell there's probably something you're unaware of that they're mentally communicating about.

dan heng, still recovering from the unexpected topic of asking his best friend's younger sister for love advice of all things, stumbles over his words. "i, uh, yeah. simple is good, got it."

"see? even dan heng agrees. thanks for the wisdom, dear sister." he offers a salute of gratitude as he turns to leave with his friend.

"hey, dan heng?" you ask before the've left ear shot. the two boys turn around to glance at you, blade raising an eyebrow with an imperceptible expression on his face.

"hm?" he hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes boring into yours. you have to look away for a split second before you start to blush.

"good luck," you smile brightly. "no matter how you ask them, i'll sure they'll love it and say yes." the words tumble out before you can think. by the time you've said them, your cheeks are a warm pink, something you brush off as the cold winter air from sitting outside for too long.

"thanks, y/n," he says, offering a smile of his own, enough to illicit your brain to short circuit, which you don't have to recover from immediately because the boys then walk away. blade, of course, manages to sneak a teasing smile your way, well aware of what's probably going on in your head.

with that, blade drags dan heng away, likely to impart more "wisdom" in a less public setting. you could only assume what blade was busy whispering in his ear that makes him push him off while blade laughs. you're left alone against the tree, the courtyard now quieter as the lunch hour comes to an end.

the revelation that dan heng might be preparing to ask someone to the yule ball lingers in your thoughts. as you finally gather your books and stand up, ready to head inside and get warm instead of staying out in the cold for too long.

the day passes as you go through the rest of your classes. you hand in your poor attempt of your unfinished herbology homework, receiving a raised brow from professor sprout. still, she seems to give an equally as understanding expression, chalking up your less-than-ideal attempt having do with the excitement that relates to the yule ball.

you walk through the halls of hogwarts, hugging your books close to your chest on your way to dinner in the great hall, a much needed meal waiting for you after your long day. your eyes are trained at the tiled floor ahead of you as your mind is too preoccupied to focus on everything else. the corridors seem unusually crowded, filled with students excitedly discussing their plans for the upcoming event.

as you turn a corner on your way to your common room, your scattered and distracted thoughts make you unintentionally collide with someone, causing your books to scatter across the floor. flustered, you start gathering them, apologizing profusely without looking up. "sorry!"

a familiar voice responds, "no worries. i should have been more careful, too." you glance up, and there stands dan heng, a small smile playing on his lips as he bends down to help you collect your books.

"oh, hey again," you greet in a slight breathless tone, unsure whether you should feel more or less embarrassed that you collided right into him. "thanks," you say as he helps, feeling a strange warmth in the air as your hands accidentally brush against each other while reaching for the same book before you both quickly yank your hands back.

"no problem," he replies, handing you the last book. there's a brief moment where your eyes meet, and it feels like time stands still. there's unspoken tension, you think, and its palpable.

dan heng was never a man of many words, you know. then again, one glance from him can hold a million words. despite not being of many words, you never felt any less close to him than your own classmates who've talked your ear off on countless occasions. it might be an inappropriate crush, having one on your older brother's friend, but it's not like you can do anything about it now.

before you can say anything more, dan heng takes a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. "well, i better get going."

"right," you mumble, still caught in the lingering atmosphere between you two.

you watch as he turns away to leave you in the empty hall, but just as he's about to walk away, you notice him hesitate and pause in place. your face expresses confusion when he turns to face you again and looks back at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

"everything okay?"

dan heng seems to struggle with his words for a moment, his gaze shifting as if he's trying to find the right way to express what's on his mind. it's a side of him you haven't seen before, and it leaves you both intrigued and a tad concerned.

"yeah," he finally says after a moment, his voice a touch lower than usual, like he's in deep thought. "i just wanted to say, um, about the yule ball..."

"oh! did you ask out who you wanted to?" your brows raise as your curiosity is piqued. your curiosity must be a masochist of sorts because why on earth are you so eager to find out something that will without doubt potentially ruin your night?

dan heng chuckles softly. "not quite," he says quietly. "i was just going to ask, did you really mean what you told blade and me earlier?"

"about what?" your head tilts to the side as you scrunch your eyebrows and a thoughtful frown is on your face.

"how you'd like to be asked," he clarifies. "something simple?"

"oh," you smile shyly. "well, yeah. i'm personally not one to love grand gestures of affection with the attention it garners," you laugh lightly to yourself. "why?"

"just wanted to make sure i'd get it right when i asked` you."

"hm," you hum to yourself with a nod, barely registering his words. a few seconds pass and your head jerks up a bit to meet his serious gaze, your face displaying perplexity. "wait, what?"

at your lost expression, dan heng smiles (smiles!) with an amused laugh through his nose. "the advice wasn't for me to ask someone else, y/n." he reveals in a . when you're still too shocked to say anything, he asks instead. "would you want to go to the yule ball with me?"

your heart skips a beat at the unexpected question. for a moment, a long moment, you're frozen in place, trying to process everything he just said. the realization dawns on you that the secret crush you harbored might not be so one-sided after all.

the courtyard conversation wasn't merely about hypotheticals for dan heng, you knew that, but not to this extent! not to mention, your brother blatantly asked you how you'd like to be asked (on behalf of all girls, but still) to the ball. you feel a little bamboozled, to be quite honest, but in the best way.

the air is thick with anticipation as you meet his eyes. the warmth in them is more evident now, and there's a vulnerability that you never expected to see from someone as composed as dan heng.

"really, me?" you ask, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

"of course, you," he says like it's most obvious answer. after a few seconds, his expression turns serious, "if it's uncomfortable for you or if you don't want to, forgive me-"

"no-no, that's not it!" you quickly cut him off before he can finish, waving your hands in front of him. "i'd love to." you beam.

relief washes over him, and a smile breaks across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "yeah?"

you nod in confirmation, still smiling widely. you jut your thumb in the direction of the great hall. "i was just heading to a late dinner. you wanna come?"

dan heng wordlessly nods with a smile and falls into step with you as you both begin walking through the long corridor.

"so...earlier today with blade..." you trail off, breaking the comfortable silence as you recall the courtyard conversation.

"all his idea," he sighs, rolling his eyes. "he knew i wouldn't have just asked so he just had an idea of his own."

"did blade know the whole time?" you ask.

"he's only been bothering me about it since the start of fifth year."

you pause in your step. "fifth year?" you ask, shyly peering at him through the corner of your eyes as you walk toward the great hall.

"yeah," he says, scratching the back of his neck as his ears go red. "apparently i wasn't subtle enough for your brother to notice. it took him a while for me to admit it..."

you laugh, recalling on your own side how your own brother taunted you for staring extra long at his friend. was he playing matchmaker this whole time? "does that mean we'll have to thank him at some point?" you can only imagine the shit-eating grin on his face, all by his own behind the scenes doing.

there's a brief silence between you two and you come to the same answer.

"no."

"absolutely not."

.... so that's the first fic im back with! i know im rusty so pls let me be...plots will get better i swear <3 ty for reading! also we just gonna go w dan heng and blade being besties it's an alternate universe ok