#pls were like a package deal

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part thirty-five: normal people

word count: 4.6k

warning: just tooth rotting fluff? pls lmk if i missed anything!

thirty-four | thirty-five | thirty-six

She’s standing in the kitchen, barefoot on tile, a half-filled grocery list balanced on her palm and a pen tucked between her fingers. There’s a smudge of ink near her knuckle where she pressed too hard writing “milk (again)” and a half-eaten apple next to her elbow.

She tapped the pen against her chin and called out it in what she hoped was his general direction. “Anything you want? I’m headed to the shop today.”

The man didn’t even glance over. “Nah, don’t worry about me. I’ll eat at home.”

She blinked. “What home?”

“Mine?”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now? Bold of you to act like you don’t live here part-time.”

“I don’t live here. I just visit. Often. And sleep on your couch sometimes. And eat your snacks.”

“Right. Like a polite, British raccoon.”

She could hear the dull thump of him flipping a cushion over and resettling. Y/N shook her head and capped the pen before turning, leaning her hip against the counter to get a better look at him. 

He was sprawled on the couch, hoodie slightly askew, curls crushed on one side from a nap he definitely took while she was in the shower. He was watching her lazily now, like she was some interesting artwork he still hadn’t decided the interpretation of yet.

He raised a brow at her, unbothered. “I’ve been busy.”

“Uh-huh.” She jotted something else down. “With my fridge.”

“Your fridge is elite. It feeds me. It listens when I talk. It’s never judgmental.”

“It’s empty,” she replied, dry. “Because you keep eating all my stuff!”

“That’s on you, really. For buyin’ food that tastes good.”

Even though he couldn’t see her, she rolled her eyes on principle. “So, again. Anything you want?”

He yawned, blinking the leftover sleep from his eyes. She tried not to stare at them too long.

“Don’t fuss, I’ll live,” he waved her off.

She looked at him over the top of her list, unimpressed. “Look, either you tell me what you want, or you come with me and pick it out yourself.”

That certainly got his attention. He blinked, propping himself a bit more upright against the back of the couch.

“You want me to come… grocery shoppin’?”

“No, I want you to stay here and text me cryptic things like ‘grab snacks’ and then complain when I don’t buy the right ones.”

He grined. “Hey, that was one time.”

“Three times,” she insisted. “And I still don’t know how you made that much of a fuss over cheerios. Cheerios!”

“They were sad circles,” he muttered.

“You’re a sad circle.”

He smirked. She narrowed her eyes, thinking.

“Fine. Come with me then. Pick out your own stupid cereal. Or snacks. Or whatever it is you pretend you don’t want and then steal from my cabinet.”

She expected some sarcastic brush-off, or a mumbled excuse about being busy. Instead, he stretched his arms above his head and yawned theatrically.

“Alright. I’ll come.”

That made her pause. She glanced up from the list, surprised to find him already looking at her. “Wait, really?”

“You said I could come.”

“Like, for grocery shopping.”

“Isn’t that what you just said?”

“Yeah, but you’re agreeing. Without protest. That’s usually grounds for suspicion.”

He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now why would I deprive you of my wonderful company, hm, sweetheart?”

She makes a face and flips her notepad shut. “And look at that, he’s humble too.”

“I know! I’m the total package, really.”

“Oh, you’re something, alright.” She’s trying not to smile, but it sneaks through anyway. “Also you have to wear proper sneakers. Those fancy dress shoes of yours won’t save you from slipping in the produce aisle.”

“Oh?” He grinned, finishing the last of his morning tea before he got up to put his shoes on. “That sounds a bit specific. You gonna tell me the story behind that, or will I have to force it out of you?”

“It was a tactical slide,” she mumbled quietly, already defensive. “I was testing the floor.”

“You fell, didn’t you?”

 “...Into a stack of lemons.”

“Well, now we know they bruise easily,” he laughed, watching her cheeks turn pink.

She shook her head, turning away before he could see the way her expression softens. He was coming with her. Maybe that didn’t mean anything. 

Or maybe it meant enough.

The sliding glass doors of the grocery store swooshed open, and Lando hesitated on the threshold like he��d stepped into another country.. He stuck close to her side, trying to act casual, but his eyes flicked around like a tourist in a new city.

She, on the other hand, pulled her trolley with practiced ease. It was a little squeaky, but she simply kicked the wheel, and it was suddenly good as new. She started to throw a few basics into the cart — butter, milk, bread — before she had to turn back when she noticed that Liam was still frozen like a deer in headlights.

“...This is it?” he asked.

She looked over, eyebrow raised. “What were you expecting? A red carpet? Spotlights?”

He blinked up at the fluorescent lighting. “I don’t know. I guess I thought grocery stores had, like… more drama.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Dunno. Thought there’d be a big wheel of cheese or something. That’s what I imagined as a kid. This place is kind of underwhelming.”

“That’s because it’s a supermarket, not a Bond film.”

Still, she couldn’t help the grin pulling at her mouth as he trailed after her, pushing the cart with more focus than strictly necessary, eyes darting across shelves like he was trying to figure out the logic of it all.

“Why are the carrots all in bags?” 

Liam squinted at the wall of orange like it was a code he was supposed to crack, before he made a disgusted face. “And why are some of them hairy?”

“They’re not hairy,” she said, amused, nudging the cart forward. “They’ve just got roots. It means they’re fresh.”

“Right,” he says dubiously, poking at one with his index finger like it might bite him. “That seems fake.”

She furrowed her brows, shooting him a worried expression. “What, you think carrots come waxed and perfectly orange from the ground?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says honestly, and she glanced at him, more curious than judgmental.

She watched as he trailed behind the cart, gaze drifting over shelves like it’s a museum, eyes snagging on price tags and multipack deals like he’s never seen a grocery store before. He doesn’t reach for anything himself, just keeps pace with her, occasionally making faces at the labels.

Idiot.

He looked so serious standing next to the pasta.

“There are… so many kinds.”

She tries her best to hold back a laugh, but with limited success. He just looked so adorably lost.

Liam picked up a bag of rigatoni, turned it over like it might give him directions.

“What do you even do with these? They look like pipes.”

“Cook them, Li. Like a normal human person.”

He put it back, unimpressed. “Too much work.”

She rolled her eyes, already grabbing a box of fettuccine and tossing it into the cart.

They kept moving, and he noticed things. 

Little things.

The way she’d linger at one shelf and then trade whatever she picked for the store brand. Or how she’d turn something over in her hand — cookie butter, frozen berries, good Greek yogurt — look at the price, and then gently set it back down without another glance.

She never said anything about it. Just… kept walking, focused and practical.

But whenever he picked something — sugary cereal, overpriced fruit, dumb snacks that just looked fun—she never said a word about those, never even glanced twice at them let alone put it back. 

Sometimes she teased his tastes, sure – “That’s not trail mix, that’s a cry for help.” But she never once made him switch his things out for something cheaper.

It sat weird in his chest. He wasn’t sure why.

They were halfway through the produce aisle when he nudged her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You didn’t grab that yoghurt you like.”

She blinked, then shrugged. “Maybe next week. Not this time.”

“What? Why not?”

She snorted. “Because I like paying rent.”

He opened his mouth to argue but she’d already turned to inspect a bunch of bananas. She looked over her shoulder and saw the furrow in his brow.

“Relax. I’m not dying, Liam. I’m just budgeting.”

Beside her, he went quiet for a moment, contemplative.

“You’ve really never done this, have you?” she asked softly, halfway down the spice aisle.

“I mean, I’ve been inside a grocery store,” he defended. “Just not… this part. Not with a list. Or a trolley. Or… the intent to budget.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she said, smiling faintly as she placed the store-brand cheese in the cart and put the fancy one back on the shelf.

But when she turned, he was still looking at her.

“Do you always do that? Swap stuff out for the cheaper version?”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Well, when you’ve got six bucks left in your bank account, you do a lot of math in the cereal aisle.”

Lando furrowed his brow.

“That’s... that’s a thing? I mean, does it really matter?”

She shrugged, tossing something else into the cart. “If it’s only a few cents, not so much. But if you’re on a budget, it adds up. It’s the difference between getting snacks for the week or just dinner.”

He paused, watching her. She had the same neutral, measured tone she’d use when she explained the different drinks to a customer at the café — like it was all no big deal, just the reality of things. But to him? It was like he’s seeing behind a curtain he never noticed before.

“Weird,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Seems exhausting.”

She rolled her eyes, but there's a softness in her smile.

“You get used to it. Don’t tell me you’ve never had to budget for something.”

He gave her a look. “I... no, not really.”

She snorted, amused. “That explains a lot.”

She’d laughed of course, but for once, Lando’s mind wasn’t focused on that. Something flickered across his face — shame, maybe, or perhaps realization. But he didn’t comment on it. At least, not out loud.

Instead, he glanced into the cart again.“So why haven’t you told me to swap my stuff out?”

“You mean like the bougie almond chocolate clusters you added?”

“They’re elite, thank you very much” he said, clutching the bag to his chest in mock offense.

She laughed, shakes her head. “I figured if you're coming, you get to pick what you like. Budgeting is my problem, not yours, Liam.”

It landed heavier than she meant it to, but he didn't call her on it. He just walked a little closer after that, watching her more carefully. He let his arm graze against hers, choosing not to comment when she picked up avocados and then put them back because they were too soft. He noticed her pause at her favorite crisps, and then reach for a cheaper bag instead.

By the time they both reached the checkout, he’d gone noticeably quiet. Not in a moody way, just thoughtful.

She started pulling items from the cart onto the belt, muttering totals under her breath like it’s muscle memory, making sure each item was accounted for. He zoned back in only when she got to the end and started fishing for her wallet.

As the cashier continued to scan, she pulled out her card without hesitation. And Lando, just as casually, reached forward and tapped his before she could blink.

He stepped forward casually, card already out. “I’ve got it.”

She blinked. “No. No, you don’t– Liam– no, seriously–”

“I insisted on the elite chocolate clusters, yeah?” he said breezily. “Consider it my penance.”

“You can’t just pay for my groceries like it’s a takeaway. This stuff’s expensive—”

“Sure I can.” His tone was still light, but there was a hint of something else in it, a bit of quiet determination. “You feed me. Let me feed you back.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but something about the way he said it, like it wasn’t just about food at all – made her stop.

He went ahead and put in the security pin for his black American Express card, the register beeping once in confirmation. She exhaled, torn between touched and annoyed, but mostly just a little soft.

“Liam.”

“Y/N.”

“That wasn’t a competition. I can pay for myself, you know.”

“Wasn’t trying to win. Just figured if I’m gonna live in your fridge, I should at least pay rent.”

“You—” she stared at him, speechless for a moment. “You are so annoying.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask you to—”

“Don’t care.”

She tried to frown but it came out crooked, somehow fond. 

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he liked having her look at him like that.

And when she looked at Liam, he just looked smug. But quiet, too – he didn’t make a big deal out of it. He didn’t expect some grand thank you or a gold star.

They walked out side by side, her bag slung over one shoulder, his hand casually holding the other.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But you’re still carrying everything up the stairs!”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dare think otherwise. Anything else, princess?

She rolled her eyes as they headed for the exit, but once again she couldn't quite bite back the smile tugging at her lips. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately, she’d noticed – smiling like an idiot over stupid things, things she didn’t remember finding nearly as amusing before.

Lando noticed. There wasn’t much he didn’t notice when it came to her. She laughed, and this time, it was him who turned to look. Just for a moment. Like maybe, just maybe, this whole thing — shopping carts, pasta, her — was a dream that might not feel so far away after all.

“You’re impossible,” she huffed, shoving him playfully with her elbow since her hands were a bit preoccupied.

He looked over at her, his expression softening for a second as he grabbed the receipt.

“Oh, please. You love it.”

She smiled to herself, like a secret just for her

Maybe she did.

She stood at the counter, staring at the ingredients she'd just bought. Dried basil, tomatoes, a bottle of parmesan, and even fresh garlic, which was definitely a step up from the stale garlic powder she’d just finished using last week. A warm, homey feeling settled over her as she inhaled the earthy smell of the herbs. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the quiet, but something about it felt tangibly comforting.

The rain had settled into a steady rhythm outside her windows, soft enough to be soothing, loud enough to justify a cozy evening in. Her kitchen, small and usually quiet, felt suddenly full—with the scent of fresh basil and garlic, and the presence of one very unhelpful young man.

“Do not touch that,” she warned, pointing a wooden spoon at him without turning from the stove.

Behind her, Lando froze mid-bite, a suspiciously square cube of cheese caught between his fingers.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“You literally were already doing it.”

“I was testing it. For poison. Very noble of me, really.”

“Right. My hero.”

He popped it in his mouth anyway, shameless, and leaned back against the counter like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just eaten a chunk of the cheese she needed for the pasta.

She grabbed the cutting board and started mincing garlic, her mind wandering.

"How does pasta sound for dinner?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "It's been a while."

From across the kitchen, Liam poked his head around, looking a bit too much like an excited puppy, just without the wagging tail.

“You makin’ food? I can help.”

She glanced over her shoulder, met with his eager eyes.

“It’s alright, Li. I’ve got it.”

“Nonsense.” He drawled, his voice teasing, but his expression was dead serious. “I am a pro in the kitchen.”

She chuckled, turning back to the garlic on the cutting board. “Right. You’ve cooked before?”

“Uh... well.” He hesitated. “Here n’ there, you know how it is. Probably more than you though.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You want to bet?”

He walked over and leaned on the counter, watching her chop, completely ignoring the pan on the stove where the oil was already heating.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I could teach you a few things. Like how to avoid burning garlic,” he said, a smug little grin curling at the corner of his lips.

Before she could respond, she heard a faint crinkle, followed by a too-loud sizzle.

“Shit!”

He only laughed, while Y/N quickly scrambled to turn the heat to the lowest setting so that she wouldn’t end up burning dinner before dinner had even started. Once she was able to take a sigh of relief, she pressed a relieved palm to her chest, breathing deeply.

Maybe if he wasn’t so distracting–

Wait.

It was way too quiet.

“Liam!”

When she turned around, he was halfway through a slice of mozzarella cheese, the piece he’d swiped clearly meant for the sauce, his face lighting up with satisfaction.

“What? You said you were cooking. Thought that meant I was in charge of quality control. I’m bein’ helpful, you know.”

“That was for the pasta, dumbass!”

“It’s delicious, though.” He shrugged, utterly unbothered. “No big deal. I’ll just, y’know... fix it.”

She turned back to the stove just in time to smell the garlic before it could start to sizzle too much again. In a panic, she grabbed the pan, shaking it slightly to cool the oil, while Lando watched from the counter.

“You do realize, that was your fault, right? I was just getting into my groove.”

“Your… groove?” He pretended to contemplate for a second before shaking his head, a wide grin splitting across his face. “Sounds fake.

She shot him a look, but he was already back to the counter, grabbing another small lump of cheese.

“You really want to help, don’t you?” She sighed, exasperated but fond.

“Of course I do.” He came over, dropping a few more chunks of cheese into the sauce pot. “S’what I’m doing,” he said, in the same tone someone would say duh.

“You’re helping? That’s news to me.”

He blinked owlishly, with exaggerated innocence. “M’ taste testin’ everythin’, of course.”

Y/N glared at him, but that only made him laugh. “I’m just trying to help. I’m a good guy, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, reaching for a wooden spoon. “Yeah, I remember. You’re a ‘good guy’ who swipes my cheese and tries to burn my food. Useless, you are”

“You wouldn’t even know how good I am unless I helped, though.” His grin was teasing. “I mean, look at this sauce. It’s gonna be perfect, angel.”

She glanced at him just in time to catch him swallowing the last of yet another bit of cheese. She turned back to the stove with a muttered, “Unbelievable.”

I give up.

“You’re welcome.”

“For what? Sabotaging my dinner?”

“Enhancing it. With flair. Personality. Drama.”

“You’re about to enhance the floor with your face if you keep talking.”

“Aww, you flatter me.” He grinned and strolled over, peeking over her shoulder. “What’s this bit?”

“Garlic. I’m sautéing it,” she explained, her eyes flitting to his, the flecks of gold glimmering back at her as something soft and weighty settled over her. Like a nice comforter, she thought. 

“Looks like it’s about to catch fire.”

Shit. How does this keep happening?

“Because you’re distracting me!”

She hissed and quickly turned down the flame, stirring the garlic before it blackened. Lando winced, hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry. Sorry. Very serious chef business. I’ll shut up.”

He did not, in fact, shut up.

He was still talking as she chopped tomatoes, still talking as he offered to stir and then immediately flung sauce onto the backsplash. He was still talking when she asked him to hand her the pasta, and he held it hostage until she agreed to let him pick the playlist for dinner.

But eventually – finally, eventually – she softened. Especially when he leaned a little too close trying to smell the sauce and got tomato on his shirt.

“That’s what you get,” she said, the sternness in her voice not matching the care with which she dabbed his sweater with a damp paper towel.

I’d ruin a thousand expensive sweaters if it meant you’d touch me with such gentleness each time.

“Didn’t even flinch. You’re getting used to me.”

“Or I’m building a resistance, like a virus.”

“Romantic.”

She snorted, giving him a playful shove with her hip.

As she plated the food, the rain picking up in a gentle percussion outside, he watched her with a quiet curiosity. Something softened in his gaze. He noticed, maybe, how methodical she was. How calm. How she hummed without realizing. How this, all of it—dinner, rain, soft light—felt like a life.

Not something he’d ever known, but something he was beginning to desperately want to know more of.

She handed him a dish and flopped into her favorite armchair. He’d told her a thousand times to get rid of that ancient thing, that he’d happily take her to get something better, yet ho couldn’t count on two hands the number of times he’d found her curled up in that same spot, study or scrolling or dozed off unintentionally.

He liked knowing her favorite spot.

“My sister always used to ask for this when it rained,” she said casually, interrupting his thought as she swirled her fork in the pasta. “Said it was ‘good food weather.’”

“She’s right.”

“You didn’t even taste it yet.”

“I meant the vibe. But yeah, probably the food too.”

She laughed softly. The kind of laugh that felt like an exhale. Then:

“When I moved here, I used to cook too much. Like… way too much. Didn’t know how to portion for one person. Used to give the rest to the neighbors or just eat it cold the next day.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

“It was,” she admitted. “But I like cooking. Makes the place feel… alive, I guess. Kinda like a real home, you know?”

Lando took a bite then, chewing thoughtfully. He looked up at her, eyes warm.

I wonder what it’d take for me to give you a real home.

“Well, this one’s perfect. Even with the distinct lack of cheese.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I mean, it could use a bit more cheese—”

She threw her napkin at him.

The TV flickered in the corner, casting slow, shifting light across the room. Some wildlife documentary murmured in the background—lions in tall grass, a monotone narrator talking about territory and belonging—but neither of them were really listening. They were stretched across the couch, tangled by comfort rather than touch: her legs curled under her, his shoulder tilted back against the cushion, her head resting against his chest.

Lando wasn’t even sure when they’d gotten like this. He just knew he hadn’t wanted to move. Still didn’t.

The room smelled faintly of garlic and basil from earlier. Rain still tapped gently against the windows. It was the kind of night that didn’t need much. Just presence.

She was stretched out across the couch, limbs heavy from the rain and pasta and comfort. He hadn’t meant to stay this long, but the hours had blurred into each other, soft and quiet and safe.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It rarely was. If anything, it was the kind of silence that felt rare — like the world forgot about them for a while. Like they could exist in this small pocket of space and not have to explain themselves.

After a long pause, she murmured, barely above a whisper, “Do you ever think this is strange?”

Lando shifted slightly, looking down at the top of her head. Her face was turned slightly toward him, half-lidded eyes catching his. He blinked, slow.

“No. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, fingers gently playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Just… do.”

“We’re not strange,” he said, a little too fast. He tilted his head, brows drawn slightly.  “It makes sense.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “How do you figure?”

“Dunno. It just–  just does.”

She laughed, her whole body shaking gently against the weight of him. “Thanks, Sherlock.”

He smiled, that lazy crooked kind he did when he wasn’t trying too hard. “I just mean, like… we talk, right? And it, like, works. So, y’know…”

“Gee, just what every girl dreams of hearing,” she teased, poking him.

“I’m serious, though!” he insisted, shifting a little under her. “I tell you loads of things all the time.”

She turned her face into his chest slightly. “No you don’t, dummy. You like being mysterious too much for that.”

“I’m not mysterious,” he protested, offended in that fake way he knew would make her laugh. “I’m, like… normal.”

She laughed then—soft and a little wistful. “I’m not sure anything about us is normal.”

She laughed softly at her own words, but he didn’t laugh with her. He went quiet instead. And when the silence stretched a little too long, she shifted, heart thudding faintly at the idea she’d struck a nerve.

The room went still. The flicker of the TV washed over them in dim pulses. She noticed he hadn’t replied.

She blinked, worried suddenly that she’d struck something too deep. So she pushed herself up a little, reaching instinctively for his shoulder.

“Wait—I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that—”

“If this isn’t normal…” he interrupted, voice softer, smaller than she’d ever heard it, “…is that bad? I kinda like it like this. Not normal.”

The words landed somewhere deep in her chest.

She paused. Lando didn’t look at her. He was staring straight ahead, as if admitting that was hard. As if he wasn’t used to speaking things that close to the heart out loud.

“I kinda like it like this,” he added, voice quieter still. “Not normal.”

She couldn’t help it. Her heart melted at the honesty of it.

She settled back down beside him, this time a little closer as she exhaled softly, more a thoughtful hum than anything. Her features softened instantly, lips curling into a sleepy smile, her body resting back against him.

“Hmm,” she whispered. “I can do not normal.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. She settled back down against him, head resting lightly on his chest now. His hand moved almost instinctively to her back, warm and slow and steady. 

She dozed off with her arm wrapped around his torso, her hand resting on his ribs.

Still, he stayed awake longer than he meant to, watching the way her face relaxed into sleep. He didn’t move – he couldn’t bring himself to.

A few minutes passed. Maybe more.

And when he was sure she was asleep — eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just barely—he dipped his head just enough to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. Let it linger.

Then, quieter than a prayer:

And then, when he was finally absolutely sure she was asleep – her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted just barely – the room grew quiet and the storm softened outside. Only then did he lean forward, just enough to press the barest, most gentle of kisses to her forehead.

“I’m not a religious person,” he whispered, so low it felt like a prayer, “but sometimes I do think God made you for me.”

She didn’t stir. But his heart did something dangerous in his chest.

He didn’t stop it.

a/n: another chapter! i originally had this chapter plotted totally differently, but it felt too forced, so this happened instead. what do we think?

[koqabear]

Caught in Your Spell

♬ : Cherish (My Love), ILLIT, Romeo, Pinkpantheress, For: You, Kali Uchis

"Being a simple human in a magic-dominated city was not for the weak. You can deal with the endless teasing, the inaccessible architecture, and the belittling from others around you, always taking pride in your tough skin— but when it comes to your hopeless pining after Mage Kang Taehyun, maybe your heart isn’t as strong against the insecurities that nag at your brain as you thought."

mage!taehyun x human!fem!reader 

genre: fantasy, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 22.2K

warnings: barely proof read… we die like men i’m sorry. bit of a miscommunication trope ?  mc is having an identity crisis pls bear with her, brief violence/blood (nothing graphic) taehyun is a little mean for a moment… but he means well ! 

smut warnings: soft dom!taehyun, sub!mc, dry humping kinda, oral(f. rec.) fingering, multiple orgasms, praise, pet names (good girl, baby, angel, love) use of restraints (bondage?), overstimulation, begging?, creampies, scratching, cockwarming, lmk if i missed anything!

notes: guys… i’ve never been so locked in for a fic before. this was sooo fun, pls let me know your thoughts ! ive also scattered a few references here hehe, some more obvious than others. let me know if you spot any! 

You knew what you were getting into the moment Yunah proposed the idea; starting an apothecary in the capital was not an easy feat, but her determination and alluring promises made you see only success for your futures— sometimes, you like to tease that she used an enchantment spell on you, which she always dismisses with a laugh.

”You know how unethical I find that,” she reminds you each time, fluttering her eyes at you playfully, “and that’s actually my natural charm you’re referring to, by the way.”

Being one of the few humans that resides in such a magic dominated city had plenty of downsides; you were made well aware how other wizards saw you, always belittled and babied despite your wit and knowledge— the caution that came with your presence, afraid that even the slightest breath in your direction would cause you to shatter. Not to mention the surprisingly inaccessible architecture that littered the city: not everyone has the ability to levitate!

It was a stressful, fast paced life you lived, one you wouldn’t change if it meant leaving Yunah’s side— she was your rock, despite your differences, who never put meaning into what you could or couldn’t do; in her eyes, you were her sun: a bright, healing, energizing light. You brought life wherever you went, possessing a magnetic energy that she deemed magical in itself. She wishes you were more aware of this advantage; maybe then you would be able to do something about this weird tension between you and the prestigious member of the royal court, Mage Kang. 

“Just this for now.” Taehyun huffs, placing down an impressive armful of tiger lilies before you, “Though, I think I may have to return again tonight.” 

“So many flowers,” you whistle, picking up the handfuls of lilies to tie them together and package them nicely, “who could possibly be worthy of such grand bouquets?”

“Oh no, these aren’t to be gifted,” Taehyun is quick to correct; when you peer up at him through your lashes in curiosity, he looks away, staring out the window and clearing his throat before he can continue. “They’re for the queen. They make for a beautiful delicacy, and it’s all she’s been craving recently.”

“The baby will be roaring at birth at this point. You can’t possibly be serious when you say you’ll return, right?” 

”I certainly am,” Taehyun says, cocking his head as it becomes his turn to stare you down, “don’t tell me you’re already sick of seeing me here?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden surge of confidence, shrinking back shyly as you attempt to sputter out a comeback— Yunah decides she’d much rather do it for you as she chirps off in her little corner. 

“Of course not; you’re the highlight of her day,” she grins, sending Taehyun a wink, “and my entertainment.”

Taehyun’s canines sparkle from the wide smile he sports, looking back at you with joy glowing in his eyes. “Is that so? I’m flattered.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for Yunah’s lies so easily,” you scoff, though the sourness in your face is quick to sweeten as familiar company jumps onto the counter, drawn to the crinkling paper you use to wrap the bright flowers— your voice is pure sugar as you stare at the creature fondly. “the only highlight here is getting to see Dago. Isn’t that right? I’ve missed you!” 

Taehyun can only stand back in shock as you turn your full attention (and undying adoration) to his familiar. Dagonyang is quite eager for the onslaught of attention, round eyes sparkling and dilating at your loving coos, fluffy tail swishing curiously as you gently run your fingers through his fur and scratch beneath his chin— it draws a low purr from the cat, which in turn makes you squeal and plant a soft kiss to his forehead; Taehyun’s brows all but fly off his head. 

“Oh you’re so cute, I wish you could stay with me instead— how bout it?” The flowers are an abandoned afterthought, your body bumbling with cuteness aggression as Dagonyang rubs himself against you, knocking his head against your hands in search of more pets— his eyes are closed in bliss. “You’d be better off here— I can’t imagine how boring the royal life must be, you should just stay here and sunbathe in front of the window instead. You’d attract many new clientele too, I’m sure.”

Before you can process it, Dagonyang becomes nothing but cat-hair glued to your sweater; Taehyun has scooped him up in his arms, thick biceps bulging to hold back his familiar that tries to jump back onto the counter— a stern look at the starry-eyed cat is enough to calm him down, and Taehyun loosens his grip to let him jump to the floor instead. Peering over the counter, you watch him loop around between Taehyun’s legs; he clears his throat, a last resort to get you to look back up at him. 

“I doubt he’d be a good fit for this place. His kitty claws are much stronger than you think.” There’s something unusual about his voice, despite the lighthearted jokes he’s making— something that shaves off that soft, mellow rumble and leaves a rocky undertone that puts you on edge. Afraid that you might catch on, he gives you a playful look that shrugs off your suspicion. “And he has quite the appetite. Half your store’s product would be gone the next morning.”

“I guess you have a point,” you sigh dejectedly. Leaning down, you rest your chin in your palm and observe the familiar that has begun to take in the store around him; he’s eyeing a display of novelty sweets you helped Yunah make (laced with playful, short-term spells, a bestseller amongst the students that run past after school), his eyes sparkling with interest— Taehyun is swift to place his foot in front of Dagonyang’s path, allowing himself to be dragged back to his owner’s side with a huff. You laugh at the sight, endlessly endeared. “Sometimes I forget he’s not just a cute kitty.”

Taehyun huffs. “He’s got abs, for christ’s sake. How could you possibly forget?”

You shrug. “He pulls them off well.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt you two,” Yunah starts, charging forward with a subtlety of a bulldozer that contradicts her statement, “but those flowers should probably get delivered soon. I’d hate for you to get in trouble for a late delivery again, Taehyun. They might get fed up and start sending someone else instead.”

“Who knows? Maybe they’ll take an interest to you too, ___,” Yunah teases; while you flush with embarrassment and tell her off, Taehyun stiffens at the image, rummaging through his bag for your payment and scooping up the bouquets into his arms— you’re brought back to the subject at hand as coins clatter on the counter, Taehyun’s eyes barely peeking over the flurry of tiger lilies that surrounds him.

“She has a point— about the deliveries.” his voice is muffled by the flowers, and you lean in closer to hear better. “I’d hate to be replaced, I quite like talking to you. Two.”

Yunah snorts.

“I’ll see you later— but if I don’t, complain that I was better. Maybe they’ll listen.”

“If it meant getting to see Dagonyang again, I’d start a riot, Mage Kang.”

It’s not exactly what he wants to hear, and you can tell. He shrugs.

”Good enough.”

Bidding Yunah goodbye, he spins on his heel and rushes out of your shop— he doesn’t need to look back to tell Dagonyang to actually follow.

The lingering echoes of the doorbell is the last reminder of their presence, the apothecary now silent save for the bubbling of Yunah’s cauldron; Sunday’s were always the most tranquil, and now that your only customer was gone, you were left to sigh and melt against the counter in boredom. Turning around, you decide to watch Yunah perfect her newest concoction. 

“How’s the order going?” you ask, watching her dig through the shelves of jars above her— when she spots her key ingredient at the top shelf, she sighs; with a swirl of her finger, the jar glows a lavender color and is slowly brought down into her awaiting hands. 

“Hasn’t exploded yet,” considering her recent streak of going on autopilot while potion making and adding the wrong ingredients, this was an impressive feat. “But your whole thing with Taehyun was distracting me. I almost added dragon’s breath into this.”

She looks up at you, brows raising as she gives you an intense look, “This whole place would’ve burned down if I did.”

“Wh— and how is that my fault?” you cross your arms, pouting at her accusations, “and what thing? It’s called banter.”

“More like flirting. You two have got it bad for each other,” she laughs to herself at the memory. “I’ve never seen a man get jealous over a cat.”

“C’mon, now you’re just making stuff up.”

Yunah sighs, long and hard. “Oh you poor, poor thing. Does it get tiring, deluding yourself like this?”

You roll your eyes— your denial only exasperates Yunah.

“I’ve never seen anyone be so into you. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“Like every other mage that comes here to mess with me, I’m sure,” Yunah immediately frowns, already knowing where you’re taking this. “They just think it’s fun to mess with humans to see our reactions and how far they can push us. There’s nothing more to it.”

“You know that’s not true.”

The ringing of your store’s bell is unexpected to both of you, whirling around to find a new customer. Yeonjun’s smile is bright and full of mischief as he nods to you two, his rowdy familiar bouncing behind him; they make their way towards you, though one seems much more preoccupied with making a mess out of the store— Hwangchoon’s clumsiness has your blood turning cold, watching with horror as he knocks off everything in sight. Stumbling forward, you try to dive for the falling jars he just swept off with his tail, lips parting in a silent scream— only for Yeonjun to beat you to it, his familiar, golden glow emitting from the jars as they all halt their fall and peacefully rise back onto the shelf— he even makes sure to adjust them so all the labels are showing.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Yeonjun smiles, placing a hand on the small of your back to straighten you up, “he gets excited easily. More so when he visits his favorite places.”

Behind him, you watch Hwangchoon jump up to reach a bowl of crystals, tiny hands nudging it off the table instead of catching it— Yeonjun is swift to save its descent without having to look behind him. His smile widens at the pure disbelief on your face.

“Hwangchoon,” he calls out, guiding the two of you back to the counter— the said fox perks up, running back to his owner’s side in an instant. Yeonjun glances down at him, petting his head fondly. “Stay here. You’re gonna give this poor human a heart attack.”

Yeonjun doesn’t seem to care how his comment bristles you, looking past your frustrated face and scanning the wide display of herbs behind you instead. He lets out a thoughtful hum, and you let him decide for a moment in silence. Looking behind you, you manage to make eye contact with Yunah, who shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the man— it’s enough to crack a smile out of you.

“Quite the selection you’ve got this month,” Yeonjun muses, “Your garden must be coming along nicely. You’ve ought to show me one of these days.”

His eyes flicker down to yours, narrowing slyly, “I’d love to see what human tricks you’ve got up your sleeve.”

“And put myself out of business? You wish,” you scoff, choosing to ignore that last comment. 

“Smart girl,” he grins, and you think you hear Yunah scoff in disbelief behind you. “I’ll take my usual, please.”

Nodding, you turn around to collect the necessary jars— echinacea, turmeric, garlic, ginseng, and lavender. It’s a tedious process, filling your arms to the point that you’re slowly walking back to the counter, afraid that one might slip from your grip and shatter. Yeonjun stands back, amused as he watches you set everything down with a sigh of relief. He waits for you to begin to total everything to speak up again. 

“Oh, now that I think about it, I actually need three more things— I’ve been getting an influx of patients, you see. Supply is running out fast,” he laughs, even if you don’t seem to be as amused as him, and lists out the ingredients: rat tail, bone dust, and salamander eggs— all things on the highest shelf of the establishment, akin with the high ceiling and left out of easy access due to its value. You try to hold back a groan at his request. 

“Yunah, could you—” turning around, you find that Yunah has disappeared from her spot at the cauldon; your eyes dart around in search of her, only to realize that she’s headed to the back in search of something. With her gone, dread begins to buzz in your bones— your only ladder was splintered to dust in the crossfire of Yunah’s messed up potions, and the girl has promised through apologies that she’d get you a new one asap. But looking around now, you come to two horrible conclusions: no ladder, no help. 

“Something wrong?” Yeonjun asks behind you, startling you out of your daze and making the weight on your shoulder crash down harder. Looking over your shoulder, you send him an innocent smile. 

“No, nothing,” you say, trying to prove it as you approach the shelf and crane your neck back, the gears turning in your head as you try and think of a solution. 

Minutes pass and you’ve yet to do anything— Yunah has yet to come back too, much to your dismay. The silence is deafening, and you can hear your blood rushing in your ears with shame as Yeonjun undoubtedly pieces everything together behind you. The snicker he lets out is enough to prove your suspicions.

“Need any help?” Without warning, two hands take a firm hold of your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your apron— your scream lodges itself in your throat as you’re hauled up and flying into the air, your legs kicking beneath you in protest; you go to slap off the hands that hold you, only to find nothing there. A reluctant look down shows that Yeonjun has levitated you with his magic. 

“What are you doing?!” is all you can bring yourself to yell, horrified as your dress begins to flow around you from your flailing legs— you’re quick to cross your legs and pull the skirt tightly against you, afraid of revealing anything to the man that’s now twenty-five feet beneath you. “Put me down!”

“We’ll be here all day if we stand around waiting for Yunah to come back,” Yeonjun sighs, “and you clearly can’t reach it yourself, so why not take the help?”

“I didn’t need your help!” That's a lie and you both know it, but your pride is taking too much of a hit for you to not defend yourself.

“Sure,” is all he says, watching as you continue to panic in this new position you’ve found yourself in— after another protest from you, he decides enough is enough. 

“Just hold onto these for me, will you?” the jars in front of you have begun to glow golden, and you blanch— rat tail. Bone dust. Salamander eggs. They all fly off the shelves and towards you, the magic ebbing off the moment they’re within arms reach; you dive at them in a panic, weaving through the air and hugging them close to your chest, whirling around to send Yeonjun a deadly glare once they’re all safe in your hold. You only get a joyful laugh in response. 

“Wow, you’re a natural— so graceful,” he grins, slowly bringing you back onto the ground, “One could almost mistake you for a royal aeronaut.”

You just about slam the jars against the counter, fed up with his teasing as you begin to package them and calculate the new price. “You’re not funny, Yeonjun.”

He laughs, reaching forward to boop your nose. “And you’re a wizard, ___.”

You hold back the urge to curse at him as you tell him the new total, counting the coins he places in your hand and getting confused when he hands you more than necessary; you go to give him the extra, but he shakes his head and nods down to his feet— leaning over the counter, you find Hwangchoon has gotten ahold of your novelty sweets, scarfing down the candy like he’s been starved all day. Yeonjun doesn’t seem to be as horrified as you are at the sight. 

“He’ll be okay,” Yeonjun winks, gathering the carefully wrapped parcel in his arms and bidding you goodbye— Hwangchoon begins to levitate beside him, coming into view with flailing limbs and panicked squeaks; Yeonjun pays him no mind, turning around and making his way out the shop. Your worries are put at ease as a golden aura engulfs Hwangchoon, the fox dragged behind the man like a balloon. You merely watch incredulously. 

It’s only after the two are out of sight that Yunah returns with an armful of supplies, even more trailing behind in the air; she’s meticulous as she sets the ingredients on her workbench, ordering them by sequence and spell— satisfied with her work, she smiles up at you proudly, only for it to fall as she notices the exhaustion on your face. 

“Tough customer,” is all you say, putting your head in your hands at the memory, “I just got levitated.”

You don’t expect for Yunah to act so quickly, storming over to the entrance muttering curses under her breath— you’re chasing after her hastily, pulling at her sleeve with a panic as she unsheaths the wand hidden in her boot. 

“It’s okay, really! Please don’t kill him!” you plead, though it doesn’t seem to reach her ears, “he’s long gone anyway— he was just trying to help!” 

“I don’t care what his intentions were! That fool needs to learn boundaries!” Yunah sneers, though she seizes her attempts to chase after him after you try to get on your knees to plead with her— she picks you up before you can, huffing in annoyance. “He thinks he can just treat you however he wants! We need to blacklist him.”

Her eyes light up like a lightbulb, and she’s returning back to her cauldron, flipping through her spell books with a sly smile. “Now that I think about it, we could probably place a border at the entrance to keep him out. He’d have to travel to a different kingdom to find another apothecary— though, none are as good as ours. The quality of his supplies would downgrade— wouldn’t be such a revered doctor anymore, huh?”

“Yunah, please,” you say exasperatedly, reaching over to shut her books— she lets out a whine, acting like a child scolded as you shake your head sternly. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m used to it. Don’t get put on probation over something so silly.”

Yunah is visibly biting back her tongue— she wants to refute, tell you that it’s not something silly, that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you know how much such belittling actions bother you. But it’s a talk you’ve had more times than you can bother to keep track of, knowing that even if she sees you as a gift to the capital, no one else thinks the same; her rose tinted view of you can only span so far. 

Mulling over her words carefully, all that’s left for Yunah is to sulk at her desk, looking up at you with heartbroken puppy eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

You smile, patting her head fondly. “I know.”

Yunah watches you retreat to the back, mumbling on how you should go take care of your garden and finishing packaging your herbs— she recognizes that strong front you’ve put up, still humiliated by today’s events; she considers creating a creature to go torment Yeonjun, but she knows you’d be against it. Yunah is left wishing you weren’t so forgiving. 

When Taehyun returns just before closing shop, it’s clear he’s eager to see you, Dagonyang just as much. The two are dejected carbon copies of each other, with Dagonyang sniffing for your scent and Taehyun stalling by looking around the shop despite only coming for one thing— both quietly hope that if they linger long enough, you’ll return. 

“I don’t think she’s coming back up front. We close in less than an hour,” Yunah calls from her workbench, wiping down her freshly cleaned cauldron, “she’s a bit upset right now. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Upset? Why?” Taehyun suddenly seems to have remembered what he’s here for, because he’s grabbing handfuls of tiger lilies and making his way to the counter in the blink of an eye. Dagonyang is quick to jump onto it, as though curious to hear why as well. 

“Well…” Yunah hesitates, unsure if she should be sharing this with them— but with the way they’re both leaning in eagerly, eyes wide and worried, she’d feel bad if she didn’t. “You see… there’s a lot of customers here that love to tease ___ for being human. She’s always said she doesn’t mind but… I don’t think that was ever the case. I guess today was just her breaking point.”

“How immature,” Taehyun’s face turns stern with anger, brows knitting together and his jaw clenching. “Who was it?”

“Doctor Choi Yeonjun; the one in the center of the capital, across from the library,” Yunah has no issues ratting out the man, just as annoyed as Taehyun about the whole situation. “I was going to send a trickster after him, maybe hand it a spell bomb to give him a nasty cold. But ___ is just too passive, she was ready to kneel and beg for me to leave him alone.”

“This is ridiculous. She shouldn’t have to deal with such treatments,” Taehyun grumbles, “and this happens often?”

“Everyday, basically. Some are more lighthearted than others,” Yunah sighs, beginning to wrap the bouquet, “She even thinks you’re in on it.”

“Me?” Taehyun sputters, offended by the thought, “Why would she think that?”

“I guess she can’t fathom someone possibly liking a human like her,”  Yunah quotes, watching Taehyun’s frown deepen, “especially someone in the royal court.”

Though Taehyun’s ears flush a deep scarlet, and the skin of his neck that peeks out from his uniform blushes a gentle pink, he doesn’t bother objecting to Yunah's claims— it’d be futile, and they both know it. He remains deep in thought instead, fishing through his bag for the payment, wishing nothing more than to see you and comfort you. 

“Don’t worry yourself sick now, I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Yunah reassures, handing the man the bouquets, “and whatever you do, don’t bring this up to her. She’d be mortified.”

Taehyun reluctantly agrees— when he bids Yunah a goodnight, he has to nudge Dagonyang off the counter in order for him to move; even then, the cat trudges reluctantly behind his owner, glancing back hopefully one last time before they leave— Yunah resists the urge to coo at the way the cat deflates with defeat, disappearing into the night behind his owner. 

 ○○○  

“Are you sure about this?” The question has slipped your mouth for the millionth time, bleeding from the morning to the early evening, lingering like a puppy at Yunah’s bedside as you hopelessly watch her pack. “Like totally, wholeheartedly, super sure? You don’t think this is a bad idea? ‘Cause I think this is a bad idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Yunah affirms, smoothing down her shirts before she folds them up into a tight, tiny square, “I’ve sent a notice to all our customers. Plus, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t trust you.”

“You have too much faith in me,” you breathe out, anxiety prickling at you as you watch Yunah place her final clothing item into her suitcase, flicking her hand to make it shut and zip up— she places her hands on her hips, giving you a look as though to say seriously? It does nothing to deter your oncoming nervous breakdown. “Why can’t I just go with you? Or close up shop?”

“We’ve been through this, ___. It’s invite only, and we can’t afford to close up shop for two weeks. People move on fast here.”

“But,” you bite your lip, brows knitting together as you try to grasp at straws. When you come up empty, all you can do is sigh out the truth. “I can’t do this without you.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you can,” Yunah puts a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze in reassurance. “You practically run it all on your own already. All I do is sit in the corner all day and make potions.”

”But that’s the driving force of this place,” you whine, and you continue before Yunah can tell you that’s absolutely not true, “people seek us out because of your skill.”

“Then I’m sure they’ll understand why I’m leaving,,” Yunah’s eyes dart to the grandfather clock in the corner of her room, hauling her suitcase off her bed and grabbing her coat— when she finds the luggage too heavy for her, she resorts to carrying it with her magic instead. “If this new spell gets approved, it’ll be a game changer for our business.”

Yunah explained this new spell of hers and the impact it would have on the community, but you’re not sure you understood— fireside talks of her ranting excitedly about the ingredients, how mentally taxing it was, and her brainstorming process were easy enough to follow; it was the purpose of the potion itself that you’d never be able to wrap your head around. 

“The fatigue that comes with using magic in such intense intervals can be extremely damaging to one’s health,” she practiced her speech on you, pacing around and using her businesswoman voice, powerful and fearless. “But with this spell, it could all change— endurance can be increased, as well as the mental capacity that allows the magic-user to intensify their spells and potions; this could revolutionize our powers, put endless possibilities on our achievements.”

Throughout your time knowing Yunah, you’ve been told on what it’s like to use magic, to have such abilities— the exhilaration, the strain on your psyche, the pride— you’ve been told how it feels, how addicting it is, left awake at night with dreams on what it’d be like to be like her; to be anything more than a simple, powerless human. 

But you’d never be like her. And as you bid her farewell at the train stop, holding her close and whispering for her to be safe, to write to you, the reality of it all crashes onto you harder than it ever has before— after all, how ridiculous is it for a human to single-handedly run a magical apothecary? 

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, squeezing her tightly against you— Yunah does the same, patting the back of your head before she pulls away; her smile is fond as she stares at you, her train arriving and beginning to pile up with people.

“I’ll miss you more.”

You stay to watch her get on the train; stay to see her pull back the curtains in her cart, scanning the crowd and lighting up when she spots you, waving eagerly. You stay until the last boarding call has been announced, until the doors close and the train whistles and stirs awake. When it takes off, you do your best to follow her and wave, the joyful laugh she lets out not reciprocated by you as you’re forced to stay behind on the platform and watch her disappear into the horizon, off to carve a new path for herself, one you’ll never be able to follow.

Your journey home has never been more difficult; all the tricky places Yunah would usually help you with— floating platforms that required much more balance than you trusted yourself having, steep slopes that are meant to be sled down gracefully or climbed up with minimal effort— are now obstacles you find yourself pushing through, ignoring the amused stares and light laughter that follows you with every clumsy attempt, as though you were a spectacle on display. By your third encounter with floating platforms that lead to your way home, you’re just about ready to give up, standing before the obstacle course with disbelief; the sun has set long ago, and the streets have become desolate, yet you’re still here. 

“___, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Taehyun’s voice is unprecedented and makes you jump, a hot flush swirling to your cheeks as you turn to face him— the thought of him catching you at such a vulnerable moment is truly petrifying, but you try to play it off with a smile that he returns swiftly. “Are you coming back from dropping Yunah off?”

“Yeah— I am, actually. She told you?” 

He nods, approaching the platforms thoughtlessly— you follow him, just as thoughtless, in an attempt to continue the conversation. “I was notified that certain spells and potions would be unavailable for the next two weeks— and that you would run the place on your own while she was gone.”

“Oh, right,” you mutter sheepishly, already forgetting about the announcement she sent. The two of you stand before the platforms, and while Taehyun is ready to jump onto them without a second thought, you begin to shift nervously. 

“Do you…” Taehyun stops himself, watching your eyes dart away, ashamed. Reaching out for your hand, he smiles sweetly at you, nodding back to the platforms behind him. “Would you like to accompany me?”

Beneath the lanterns that hover in the sky and the lit path before you, you’re able to get a good look at Taehyun’s face for the first time— no shy, fleeted gazes or stolen glances, but a long, good look. His eyes, always so round and sparkling, are creased into crescents from his smile, plump lips pulled taut and causing your eyes to flicker over to a new discovery— his dimple that indents his cheek has you resisting the urge to reach out and poke it, always unaware of its existence until now. You’re entranced, placing your trust in him as you take a hold of his gloved hand; his fingers fall into place between yours, tightening and pulling you into him without a second thought.

He maneuvers you around without effort; your right hand in his, back to his chest as the two of you stand before the first platform, just a few feet away— his other hand falls onto your waist, a feather-like touch that has you straightening up nervously. You feel him hover just beside your head, letting out an airy chuckle that makes shivers run down your spine.

”Hold onto me,” he murmurs, feeling your hold on his hand tighten as the two of you walk forward— his hand on your hip begins to feel warm, a tingling sensation bleeding through your garments and straight to your skin, a soft aura beginning to emit from where he holds you; you try and catch the color that begins to bleed through the light, but it’s all wiped from your head the moment you step forward and begin to float. 

“Ah!” you squeak, slapping your left hand on top of Taehyun’s in a panic; his fingers spread open to let yours in, biting back a smile as you hold onto him desperately, trying your best to follow his movements across the platform, though struggling a bit due to your lingering fear. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Taehyun’s words are soothing, the feeling of his breath against your skin enough to ground you, “just follow your instincts.”

Nodding, you try your best to follow his advice; your jumps defy gravity, lasting long enough that you’re walking on air and skipping platforms— it’s nothing like Yunah’s magic, simple and to the point, or Yeonjun’s, mischievous and exhilarating, but something different all together; it’s graceful, electrifying, making your body buzz with an unknown energy that excites you, letting out a soft laugh as your feet tap briefly on the stones, only to be sent back up again. The wind feels gentle against your skin, playing with your hair and the thick skirts of your dress, unfurling like a bird spreading its wings. When Taehyun peeks over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, he’s overjoyed to find a wide smile lighting up your face.

“Fun, isn’t it?” you’re halfway across at this point, and as you’re sent up into the air, Taehyun takes the chance to halt your descent, your brief hovering giving the man the leverage to use your right hand to spin you around to face him— the squeal you let out is nothing short of endearing to him, letting go of you to watch you fall back for just a second, only to catch you with an arm wrapped around your waist, his left hand now holding your right. “It’s always much better when you’re traveling with someone.”

Spinning you around once more, his arms are crossed around your waist as the two of you float onto the next stone, taking a few steps before Taehyun is lifting you up again, twirling you yet again to make you face him— a laugh bubbles out of you uncontrollably, a dizzying giddiness allowing you to become putty in his hold, letting him guide you to walk backwards, not an ounce of fear in your system as you place your complete trust in him. 

“I’ve never crossed Opal Bridge like this,” you joke, stomach flipping as you’re falling back to the next platform, Taehyun’s smile widening at your reaction, “it’s like we’re dancing!” 

“Maybe we are,” Taehyun’s hand leaves your waist to grab your hand instead, and the two of you switch places on the stone so that it becomes your turn to lead him backwards— with a running start, Taehyun is the first to jump back into the air, pulling you up to follow and tugging you into him so that you’re closer; you almost collide with his chest at his unexpected strength, letting out a nervous giggle that he absolutely soaks up. 

“Quite the interesting dance then,” your confidence boost is quick to dissolve as Taehyun’s magic ebbs away at the highest point of your levitation, the two of you free falling down to the next stone— a scream lodges itself in your throat, watching with horror as Taehyun remains unfazed even as the wind whips against his hair and uniform; without thinking, you embrace him, as though your sheer willpower could save the two of you from crashing down— through squinted eyes, you watch the scenery around you slow once more, a familiar warmth pulsing against the small of your back and between your shoulder blades. 

You pull back from Taehyun the moment your feet touch the ground, surprised to find an undeniable mischief sparkling in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“That wasn’t funny!” you smack his shoulder, though the excess adrenaline that pulses through you leaves you vulnerable to his contagious smile, unable to help the laugh that slips past you. “You’re cruel, Mage Kang.”

His smile stiffens, and he’s lifting you up once more, only two stones left to go. “You don’t have to call me that, you know. Just Taehyun is fine.”

“Ah, sorry…” you hesitate, and everything pauses— you’re lingering in the air for a moment too long, and it isn’t until you’re meeting Taehyun’s sparkling eyes that you realize he’s expecting something. “Taehyun.”

The sound of his name coming from your mouth is enough to make him want to pull you close, hug you tight against him and soar into to the sky; you’re so sweet, shy as your eyes dart away from his, a shaky smile gracing your face as Taehyun unabashedly grins— you’re barely able to catch on to the playful glint in his eye before the two of you are falling back again, the uncontrollable scream you let out and the flipping of your stomach the closest thing Taehyun can do to make you understand how he’s feeling. 

“How dare you!” you shriek into the air, though it’s followed by a loud laugh as Taehyun saves the two of you yet again, floating the two of you back up delicately in a pseudo-apology; when you catch that stupid, triumphant smirk on his lips, you punch his chest petulantly. “You’re enjoying this too much!” 

“I am,” Taehyun immediately nods, shamelessly pulling you against him, sturdy hands pressing against your back to melt your bodies together— he buries his head into your neck and allows the two of you to remain where you are for a second; just you two, with no one to interrupt or entertain themselves at the spectacle. No facades to maintain, no words to be spoken, only the warmth of Taehyun’s magic against your fragile body, engulfing you entirely until you’re completely his. If you press yourself against him hard enough, you might catch the way his heart is just about to pound out of his chest.

In this tranquil sanctuary you’ve found yourselves in, you find yourself dreading the moment your feet will touch the ground again and force you two to part. A single thought graces your minds, a gentle plea to the stars that watch over you.

If only there were a spell to make this last forever.

 ○○○

The first few days of Yunah’s absence pass by without a hitch— at least, that’s what your positive mind is trying to convince you. It’s an arduous journey on her part, taking advantage of her four days on the train to write to you constantly; it feels like a new letter manifests on her workbench every few hours, filled with complaints on the stiff seats and haphazard sketches of the scenery— she tells you what she ate for breakfast, about the interesting people she’s befriended on the cart across from her, and screams about the man that snores obnoxiously at night. Remind me to create a spell that can mute your ears when I get back, please, she writes to you, and you shake your head in amusement before folding up the letter, determined to respond later as your shop bell twinkles gently.

Making your way back to the front of the shop, you can’t help the way your heart beats in anticipation— Taehyun always visited at this time, always choosing to finish his daily walk with a visit to your shop; sometimes to pick up something, other times to just check how you were doing. 

After your rendezvous at Opal Bridge, you could no longer ignore the charged air between you two— there was something forming, something neither of you were keen to acknowledge just yet; a fragile, sweet bud that urged to bloom into a proud flower, begged to be tended to. You knew it was only a matter of time before the situation became unignorable, but for now, you were satisfied with indulging in these visits he paid you, pretending as though he’d be just as eager to risk your friendship as you were.

Peering nervously over the doorway, you’re stopped in your tracks as you find someone else wandering around your shop; a slightly taller, lean figure, with a broad back and slim waist that’s adorned with a sword and dagger. His shaggy black hair that sweeps over his face elegantly hides his identity from you; his hands are covered with black leather gloves, and you watch him reach out to grab your freshly restocked tiger lilies, quietly observing the flower.

“Isn’t this the part where I’m welcomed to the store, miss?” the sudden address has you jumping, stuttering out a nervous laugh as you step out and make your way towards the counter— the man has yet to face you, but as you begin to take in his uniform better, your face begins to twist into a confused frown.

“Wait,” you start, eyes sweeping from his heavy duty boots to the dark navy of his uniform, recognizing the familiar crest on his shoulder— the man finally looks over his shoulder to meet your scrutinizing gaze, sending you a sly grin that has you scoffing in disbelief. “Beomgyu?”

“Geez, I was scared you’d already forgotten me,” Beomgyu sighs in faux relief, placing back the lily before making his way to where you stand, “your customer service skills are getting rusty.”

When Beomgyu first became part of the royal guard, he was a frequent visitor to your apothecary— a hardworking soldier in search of healing balms and potions to close up wounds instantly, always stopping late at night and making conversation with you and Yunah, detailing about his difficult trainings and listening to the two of you rant about your days; sometimes, he’d bring gifts from his trips to other kingdoms as a token of appreciation, jewelry and trinkets that you still have laying around your home in decoration. His dedication and skill was enough to have him climb up the ladder in no time, making it rare to see the head of the royal guard in your shop these days.

“When did you dye your hair? I could’ve sworn you were just blonde,” you ignore his jab, squinting at his hair that seems to absorb all the light around him, “it’s so dark.”

“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” he runs a hand through his hair, and you’re amazed at how it falls perfectly into place. “my soldiers were saying the blonde made me an easy target.”

“They’re not wrong,” you hum, amused at how immediately pouts at you, “what brings you here, anyway? It’s been a minute since you last came around.”

“If you must know, I’m here to pick up the parcel of potions Yunah left,” Beomgyu says, nodding towards the workbench in the corner where sure enough, a thick parcel awaits.

”Oh, those were for you?”

“For the queen, yes,” Beomgyu is quick to correct you, earning a roll of your eyes in return, “her due date is approaching, and she’s been having constant dizzy spells. Hopefully this can calm her down in the meantime.”

You pause for a second, your grip tightening on the heavy package in your hands; you’ve heard this story before, during one of Taehyun’s visits— about the potions the queen requested from Yunah, forced to wait for the concoction to ferment before being able to take them— and you frown, sure that he would be the one to come for the delivery. The question bites at your curiosity far too much, and you can’t hold yourself back from saying what’s on your mind as you go back to place the package on the counter.

“Did Taehyun get replaced?”

Beomgyu sends you a confused look. “Replaced from what?”

Embarrassment starts to lick at your face, avoiding his gaze as you pray for the heat to go away, trying your best to seem indifferent as you shrug. “He’s usually the one that picks up parcels for the queen.”

Beomgyu pauses for a second, observing your face to see if you’re serious. 

“No… Taehyun’s in a meeting with the advisory court today. He’s not a delivery boy— you are aware of that, right?”

“I obviously am!” you say indignantly, your sudden outburst bringing a knowing smile to Beomgyu’s face, “it’s easy to get used to routine, you can’t blame me for being curious.”

“Curious,” Beomgyu ponders, “or disappointed?”

 “Oh, hush.”

“You’re not denying it,” Beomgyu’s lips curl into a childish little smirk, like he’s holding back the urge to giggle, “don’t worry, you can just flirt with me in the meantime— don’t let your routine get disrupted.”

“God, you’re annoying,” you groan, pushing the parcel forward and closer to him, silently signaling him to go away— when he begins to dig into the bag attached to his belt for your coins, you look around the shop, just now realizing that he’s come in alone. “Where’s your other half?”

Beomgyu smiles fondly at your question. “Right at your feet.”

You’re bending down to inspect beneath the counter immediately, and sure enough, Bamgeut is curled up by your feet, fast asleep. The little bear-pup (it’s what you’ve resorted to calling them after questions about Bamgeut’s species were left unanswered) has never looked more comfortable on your hardwood floors, letting out soft snores that make you bite back the urge to pet them and stir them from their slumber. You remained crouched by Bamgeut’s side instead, watching with adoring eyes as the pup shifts onto its back, long lashes lazily fluttering open until their eyes lock with yours. 

“Hi Bam. Sleep well?” you coo, tucking your lips in to suppress a squeal as Bamgeut slowly rises to make their way to you, soft paws reaching out in a silent request to be carried— you oblige immediately, rising back into Beomgyu’s view cradling his familiar happily; his eyes widen at the sight.

“Wow,” Beomgyu huffs, watching Bamgeut rub the sleep from their eyes, tucking their head into your chest for warmth— your eyes squeeze shut at the cuteness. “I think Bam just found a new owner.”

“I‘ll happily accept,” you grin, running your fingers through Bamgeut’s fluffy hair, “a cute little thing like this has no business being the royal guard’s familiar; this baby was made to laze around, isn’t that right Bammie?”

Bamgeut has already fallen back asleep in your arms; you’re swooning at the sight, giving Beomgyu a pleading look that screams please let me keep them. 

“Absolutely not,” Beomgyu laughs, watching you deflate sadly, “I think you forget that these guys aren’t just here for decoration.”

“I know, I know,” You groan, giving up the cute creature in your hands as Beomgyu holds his arms out; He’s cradling Bamgeut like a baby, the bear-pup instantly recognizing his owner’s hold as they nuzzle into his neck with a content sigh.

”They’re not what they seem, they’re too much to handle, blah blah blah. Just say you hate me and go away,” you accept his payment dejectedly, pouting as he laughs at your misery.

”If it makes you feel better, you’re Bamgeut’s favorite human. That says a lot.”

“I don’t think that says anything at all actually,” you raise a brow, unimpressed. “Not a lot of options to pick from here.”

“Well I couldn’t say you’re their favorite person, because that would be me,” Beomgyu shrugs; looking down at the parcel, he lifts his palm up, a pink aura encasing the package and lifting it in the air— he gives you a wink as he takes his leave. “I had to make do with what I had.”

“Whatever,” crossing your arms, the wave goodbye Beomgyu gives you is left unreciprocated, only cracking a smile as Bamgeut peeks over his owner’s shoulder, mimicking his wave with its tiny paw. The sight has you melting immediately. “Bye-bye Bamgeut! I’ll miss you!”

Beomgyu’s sulky pout that he sends you through the window is swiftly ignored as you spin around and head back to respond to Yunah’s letter. 

 ○○○  

The next time you see Taehyun, he’s trying to hide his terrible mood from you.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” you’ve never been one to worm your way into other’s business, but Taehyun just brings it out of you, “I feel like there’s something bothering you.”

When he entered the shop with brisk steps and a cold look on his face, the warmth in your cheeks disappeared— you’ve never seen him act so cold, trying to mask the bubbling lava of anger that rushes through his veins; his voice was stern and careful as he spoke to you only from necessity, bypassing your usual attempts to joke and banter. As you ask him the question that nagged at your mind, you can’t help but worry that you’ve done something to anger him.

“Just problems at the palace,” he grits out, the mere mention enough to anger him all over again; he refuses to meet your concerned gaze. “Nothing you should worry about.”

”Ah, alright,” he’s far too intimidating like this, and as your exchange is cut short after a pixie appears to request his immediate presence at the palace, you can’t help but wonder if this is the side everyone else sees when he’s working.

“The East Kingdom of Flora is requesting your services,” the tiny voice alerts, its buzzing wings leaving a trail of dust as it circles around Taehyun— at the mention of the kingdom, you perk up; one of the few standing kingdoms ruled by humans. The world you should be in. But while your eyes widen with interest, Taehyun’s jaw clenches, sneering a low curse beneath his breath. 

“The East Kingdom of Flora is requesting your services,” it chirps again, a broken record that zips carelessly around Taehyun— he seems like he might just explode in annoyance. 

“I have to go.” Taehyun turns to you, entirely exasperated. Grabbing the fresh bouquet of tiger lilies and exchanging it for your payment, he rushes out and doesn’t bother acknowledging your meek goodbye; maybe because the pixie continued to chirp away in his ear all the way out. 

Though it seemed like an urgent request, you can’t help but pout at your brief exchange— more so at his coldness. It was an entire switch from the man that’s been lingering cutely at your store night after night, so you can’t help but worry about him, wondering what it could possibly be that’s got him on edge like this. 

Hours later, Beomgyu pays you another unexpected visit, Bamgeut hopping along happily; you smile at the little royal uniform they don, a clear attempt to match the owner that smiles at you brightly. 

“Bamgeut was begging for us to stop by today,” he says, the little bear-pup hopping up to wave at you; you laugh, leaning down against the counter to say return the greeting. Bamguet runs up to you with outstretched arms, and you cave in instantly as you pick them up and set them on the counter, petting its head while their legs dangle from the counter happily.

“Are you sure it was Bamgeut that wanted to stop by? You don’t need to lie, you know. You can admit that you missed me.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, unamused at your teasing. “Ha ha, very funny. Don’t make me start showing up without Bamgeut. I’ll actually do it.” 

Having known Beomgyu for long enough, you’re able to confirm that he absolutely would go through with that threat. You gulp. “Sorry.”

He smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Today, he’s stopped by for a healing balm— he’s run out of his bulk supply, and due to Yunah’s absence, you haven’t been able to restock at much; you’re only able to sell him three, and he tells you about the recent wound he received while training his soldiers. 

“They learn fast. Too fast,” he says, tugging off his glove and folding up his tunic to show you the bandages along his forearm, gasping at the streak of red that bleeds through, “it’s how I got this.”

“Beomgyu, you really need to be more careful!” you scold, covering your mouth with disbelief the longer you look at it, “isn’t there a safer way to train? Something that won’t end with you hacking your arm off?!”

“I’m training them for battle, ___. In the most extreme cases, war,” his face darkens at the thought. “War isn’t safe.” 

“Don’t make me think about stuff, I might pass out.”

The concern in your trembling voice and your worried face is endearing to Beomgyu. In an attempt to distract you he asks, “well, then what do you wanna think about? I’m an open book.”

“Hmm…” you trail off, wondering how you could take advantage of this opportunity. “Oh! Why is the Kingdom of Flora here?”

Beomgyu’s brows furrow, and he seems to be genuinely taken aback by your question. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh. Uhm,” you become sheepish, wondering if you’re asking about a sensitive topic. “Taehyun stopped by earlier, and a pixie appeared alerting him that the kingdom was requesting his presence. I figured you might know something about it.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Well, why didn’t you ask Taehyun about it?”

You grow quiet. “He uh… he seemed pissed.”

At your meek confession, Beomgyu bursts into laughter, as though imagining it for himself— you can’t help but frown at the entertainment he finds from it, wondering what he might know.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“God, I bet he’s fuming,” Beomgyu giggles, wiping at the tears in his eyes, “he hates dealing with stuff like this.”

“Stuff like this?” you echo, “What are you talking about?”

Lost in his own amusement, Beomgyu doesn’t seem to pay any thought to the things he says. “Them, the representatives from Flora. He has no patience with them. Anything that drags him down is enough to make him lose his shit— he’s been assigned to escort them, so imagine the immense pain he’s in right now.”

Through the lighthearted insults and giggles, the reality of Beomgyu’s words start to crash onto you, like an overwhelming, sobering wave. The representatives from Flora. Humans. Them. 

“But as for their business here, no one’s exactly sure. No one except for the King and Queen, that is,” Beomgyu continues, though you’re not following along anymore, “It’s probably some personal affairs, maybe even discussions of a possible alliance; though, I’m not sure what we’d get from that.”

It feels like your head has been plunged underwater, the image of Taehyun flooding your vision; him, forced to escort the humans from Flora— him, forced to help the humans through tricky architecture just as he helped you; dragged down, impatient. In immense pain. 

“Beomgyu,” you interrupt his endless ramblings, staring down at the counter as you continue to pet Bamgeut absentmindedly; the creature has already curled up on the surface and fallen asleep. He hums in response, and you have to find the courage to continue; you avoid looking at his face in fear of seeing his reaction. “Would you ever fall in love with a human?”

Silence falls, just as you feared. You continue to pet Bamgeut as a distraction, the bear-pup leaning closer to the warmth of your touch.

”…Probably not.”

You press your lips together, trying to hide the hurt from your voice. “How come?”

“Well first of all, it’d be difficult to find one here in the capital. I have no idea how I found you,” he jokes, and you crack a small smile at that. “But… I don’t know. Humans… are so fragile; our differences may not be much on the outside, but our genetic make-up is entirely different—health, strength, capabilities— things get complicated like that.

“But, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” His words have an unprecedented softness to them, genuine in his answer as he continues, “I think, if it were love, I’d look past it all— I’d let them drag me down, I’d pick up after their messes happily. I’d take care of them no matter how fragile they were.”

His answer is sweet, though you find that an uncertainty still nags at you; you’re startled out of your spiral as you feel him pat your head, winking at you when you look up to meet his gaze. 

“Don’t be sad though, I still think you’re cute.” 

Shaking your head to get his hand off, you let out a low curse at his stupidity. 

“God, you’re insufferable. This isn’t about you!”

His smile widens, satisfied. “I know.”

Your goodbyes are much more gentle this time, placing a kiss on Bamgeut’s forehead to stir them from their slumber— Beomgyu chuckles at the action, joking that “you’re trying to bribe them to like you more than me.”

The small familiar that’s curled up in Beomgyu’s arms remains unaware of your rivalry. “Is it working?”

“In your dreams.”

You laugh at his resolve, knowing that Beomgyu would rather die than lose his precious familiar, even in a battle of affection— he was sentimental like that. And as you watch him leave, carding his fingers through his familiar’s fur, you find yourself wondering if Taehyun is sentimental like that, too. 

 ○○○

Six days into Yunah’s absence, something peculiar occurs. 

It stormed all day— heavy showers that threatened to flood the streets, harsh lightening that cracked in the sky and startled you throughout your garden tending; at some point, you almost snipped off the head of a perfectly healthy bloom, cursing under your breath and opting to put down your shears in fear of creating an accident. 

Your clientele is always few and far between when the weather gets like this. No one finds themselves that desperate to visit the apothecary, unless it’s for an urgent need; Yeonjun stopped early in the morning, when the sprinkling rain had yet to turn into a harsh downpour, only two others stopping by for the rest of your day. The sky was now pitch-black outside, and there was only forty minutes left before you closed up shop. A nagging thought in the back of your head told you it’d be better to just close down early, but you dismissed it. Maybe you should’ve listened.

The woman that enters your establishment is not one you recognize. She’s small in stature, a lithe figure that’s concealed by a cloak that’s been drenched through the storm and drips onto your floors. Your voice is soft and unsure as you greet her, observing the way she ignores your words and silently takes in the displays around her, the weighted hood covering the top half of her face; her ruby lips and pale skin are the only things that peek through, curling to a delicate smile as she faces you. 

“Hello darling,” her voice is that of a siren’s, lowering your defenses with its elegance. “Where’s your counterpart?”

“Counterpart?” you echo pausing for a moment to decipher what she might mean, “Yunah?”

She nods.

”She’s off to a conference to register a spell,” you watch her nod in understanding, “so I’m afraid that our usual spell and potion services are currently unavailable.”

Silence. The air around you seems colder than it did moments prior, though you think it’s your mind playing tricks on you, unnerved by the way you can feel her observing you carefully.

“But you’re here.”

“Oh, I’m— I can’t,” you say sheepishly; she tilts her head in confusion, silently asking you why. You flush, your voice barely above a whisper as you explain that, “I’m a human.”

The silence that lingers in the air is deafening, not even the sound of the rain crashing against the stone outside enough to soothe your nerves. You watch her ruby lips stretch widely, pearly teeth showcasing a blinding smile. Slender hands reach up to tug the hood off her head, and you watch carefully as the fabric pools at her shoulders and her identity is revealed. 

Despite the damaged her cloak took from the storm, she remains untouched; her hair is a brilliant midnight that shines blue beneath the light and cascades smoothly down her back, slim, angular face revealing striking features that render you speechless— her doe eyes are full of a sparkling purity, long, dark lashes brushing delicately against her silky skin with every curious blink. Her gaze is inviting as it locks with yours, and despite you thinking it impossible, her smile widens.

“I don’t see the problem with that.”

Her claim stuns you— so much so that you’re sputtering in confusion, unsure of what those words entail; you try to cement the fact that you’re just a human, with no magical inclinations, no abilities to cast spells, and no idea on how to brew potions. 

“Love, I only ask of you to help me with the most basic of potions,” she soothes, now standing before you at the counter, “something so simple, even a… powerless, human would be able to achieve it.”

“Well, then— you must pardon me, but,” you hesitate, finding her gaze much too intense, filled with such innocent hope you worry to disappoint her, “why seek out my help then?” 

Her eyes narrow, but her smile remains still; amused at your keen observations, she reaches out to take your hands in hers— they’re warm and soft, so gentle as she pulls your encased toward her chest, clasping them as she gives you a pleading look. 

“I’ve heard stories about this apothecary— the ingredients here are a magic of its own, leagues better than any other establishment’s,” she lets out a weak chuckle, “certainly better than what’s left in my cottage back home. I’ve travelled a long way to find this place, I beg you to help me. I cannot leave empty handed; there is life at stake.” 

Your lips press together in a fine line, brows knitting together as you become unsure of what to do; her eyes are glossy as they stare into your own, drawing you in and daring you to look away— you find that you can’t bring yourself to do so. There’s a desperation that swims in her dark irises, a silent plea that sings to you, your hands buzzing with warmth the longer they remain encased. Your lips loosen, and your voice acts on its own accord. 

“Okay,” you find yourself saying, “I’ll help you.”

Her eyes widen like saucers before she blinks and lets go of your hands, letting out a soft thank you and bowing her head in gratitude— you merely stand there awkwardly, unsure of why you decided to agree to this; a voice in the back of your mind nags that you should’ve told her to wait for Yunah’s return.

“I’ll treasure this for eternity,” she breathes out, peering up at you through her thick lashes with a small smile, “I owe you my life.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing, really,” you frantically say; worried that she may expect too much of you, you’re frantic to add: “I’m not too experienced with potion making, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Undeterred, she shakes her head. “I’ll guide you.”

“Oh,” you softly say, “okay.”

Reaching into her cloak, the woman pulls out a worn out scroll, unrolling it on the counter; the two of you gather as she reads out the ingredients to you, along with the instructions— you’re surprised to find it composed of entirely mundane ingredients and no magic involved, just as she’d promised. When you ask her what the potion is for, she sends you a small smile, as though you were privy to a top secret. 

“For rejuvenation,” she simply says, not elaborating despite you hopelessly wishing she did.

The potion is made in Yunah’s cauldron in just a few minutes, nothing compared to the hours the witch spends slaving over her own creations. The woman is patient, watching and directing you on what to do and how to do it; when the concoction glows a soft pink, you gasp, and the woman smiles triumphantly. 

“Let’s see,” she hums softly, reaching out and stirring the potion with her index finger, ignoring your surprised gasp and meek warning that it wasn’t the best idea— she ignores you, stirring until a the liquid becomes a whirlwind, only retreating when the potion can continue to swirl on its own for a few seconds more. The liquid that drips from the tip of her finger is popped into her mouth, and you gape— she doesn’t seem to mind your reaction, brows knitting together in thought, taking a moment before addressing you. “Try it.”

“What?” you gawk, “I don’t… why? Is it safe?”

”Of course it is,” she says, “I need to know what you taste. Try it, there’s no harm.”

You hesitate, looking at the pink liquid that has now stilled, then up at the woman who smiles patiently at you. Nothing happened to her— she barely seemed to react at all. Your eyes lock with hers, and a silent reassurance is exchanged. Against your better judgement, you reach a shaky finger into the concoction and try it for yourself. 

The liquid is warm and smooth on your tongue— you try to search for a flavor, taking a moment to think it through, but come up short. 

“It tastes like nothing.”

“Then it must be left to ferment overnight,” crossing her arms, she sighs, staring at the concoction with a frown. “it won’t be ready until some flavor pulls through.”

“I’ll stay at a nearby inn and return tomorrow. You’ll receive your payment then,” she’s not giving you much room to agree or deny, her hands already pulling her hood back on, ready to disappear into the night once more— she gives you one last smile before she goes, unmistakable joy laced in her words as she tells you, “thank you.”

Her cloak whirls in the air as she turns to leave, her swift steps bringing you to a panic as you reach for your nearest piece of parchment and pen.

“Wait!” you call out, just as she’s opened the door, ready to slip through, “I never got your name. I’d like to write it down, so I remember who it’s reserved for.”

A pause. You wonder if this was a stupid thing to ask of her.

“Irene.” 

She doesn’t repeat it, much less spell it out to make sure you’ve written it correctly. The revelation is brief, and she disappears before you can say anything more— hastily, you scrawl it down before you can forget it, your messy handwriting an eyesore next to the delicate pink potion that ferments in Yunah’s cauldron. 

The urge to send Yunah a letter confessing your sins of making a potion without her here weighs down your heart, but you know she wouldn’t even receive it— her two day conference has begun, and her lack of contact has never felt more painful. You’re left to ascend to your home on the second story of your apothecary alone, tossing restlessly in your bed as you think back to the strange event. The image of the beautiful woman lingers on your mind, sure to reappear in your dreams as her name is left like a gentle whisper in your ear.

Irene. 

 ○○○  

There is a creaking sound coming from the apothecary. 

You dismiss it, at first, rolling over in your bed and pulling the covers closer to your body, trying your best to fall back asleep— but you hear it again, and the more you pay attention to it, the less you’re able to rule it off as the building settling. 

Another creak; the sound seems to travel around the area. In a daze, you sit up from your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you strain your ears for the sound— when a soft tapping resounds, you kick your legs off your bed and stand, wondering if a stray has broken in to your store for shelter again; they always find a way. 

The more you approach the stairway that leads down the apothecary, the more you’re able to make out the sound of footsteps; they’re a light pitter patter, urging you to walk quietly in fear of startling it— when you arrive at the bottom of the stairs, you hear a soft meow. Your shoulders slump with relief. 

“Kitty,” you call out, spotting the feline standing in the middle of the store— at the sound of your voice, it walks away, attempting to hide beneath your counter. You approach it slowly, glancing out the window to find that it’s still storming. “Poor thing, you must be so cold.” 

The black cat is curled up in the corner beneath your counter, its head tucked away from your sight; carefully, you reach out to pet it, running your fingers down its back— the cat perks up at the sensation, turning its head to look at you, and you freeze. Staring back at you are two, brilliant pink orbs.

You’re startled by the sight, unable to react as an alarm begins to blare behind you— looking over your shoulder, you frown as a red light blinks back at you, situated just by Yunah’s cauldron. It takes a moment before you recognize what it’s there for.

The alarm for unauthorized potions. 

The soft fur beneath your skin begins to shift— the kitten before you begins to amalgamate, growing with violent cracks and snaps that have you falling back in shock, crawling backwards as your mouth falls open in horror. Its midnight fur has become a shapeless void, stubby paws shifting to pin-like legs— two, four, six; one after the other, they appear, hovering over you like a spider— its cute snout has disappeared, replaced instead with a maw that opens hungrily. It salivates, sharp rows of teeth grinning down at you; Your eyes dart up to meet its gaze, and it snarls at you. 

Instinct takes over as you roll to the side to avoid its jaw that shoots down to snap at you— scrambling to your feet, your legs tremble as its head cracks sharply to find you, determined to hunt you down; adrenaline prickles through your skin like needles, and it’s enough to make you turn on your heel and run for the exit. 

It’s too fast— as you weave through shelves and display tables, you hear a crawling sound, much too close to comfort; your hopes that the furniture scattered across the floor will serve as obstacles to hinder it are shattered as you look up, to where the sound is coming from: it’s crawling on the ceiling, and its eyes are fixed on you. 

You’re skidding to a halt as it leaps in front of you, blocking the entrance as it growls at you once more— when its jaws widen to try and take a bite from you, you reach out for any nearest object you can, using all your strength to throw jars and other heavy items you can find— one shatters on where you assume the head to be, and it flinches, only to shake off the glass shards, a spindly limb coming down to crush the table beside you; with a yelp, you turn around to find another way to escape. 

All the windows are locked, and the glass is protected with a spell that won’t allow it to shatter; there’s no exit on the second story, leaving the back exit that leads to your garden— with a heaving chest and tears in your eyes, you sprint to the back, the monster hot on your heels as it crushes the furniture you move in its way and the jars of ingredients you try to hit it with. 

Slipping through the employee entrance, you unlock the exit with clammy hands, trembling uncontrollably as you swing the door open— behind you, the creature rams through the wall, splinters flying at you as you run out and into the storm, through your carefully cultivated garden that it treads through with an intent to destroy. 

You’re barefoot, and it’s proving to be tricky to run out in such a muddy field—you can only hope that you’ll be able to reach the fence of the enclosure and try to find help; your heels dig into the mud and slow you down, but you don’t dare look back, gritting your teeth as you near the end of your garden.

Something wraps around your ankle— the thing has caught up to you, and you scream as it wraps its limb around your leg, pulling you back with a force that’s dragging you through the mud and back towards it; you try to flail around, digging your fingers into the soft soil, but it’s all useless. The creature has you trapped, flipping you onto your back as it hovers over you with a hunger swirling within its pink, beady eyes. Through the void of its body, the jaw widens, impossibly wide, encasing your upper body and salivating onto you through the sharp, stalagmite-like fangs. You’re left helpless, squeezing your eyes shut as you wait for it to sink its teeth into your flesh— but it never comes. 

Instead, you hear a soft humming sound; through tearful eyes, you peek— within the endless void of its mouth, something begins to glow. You think you may be seeing things, at first, squinting your eyes in confusion, only to be blinded by a light that encases you entirely; the creature remains there, hovering over you, trapping you within this light, and you wonder what kind of twisted fate has been left to you— then, you feel it.

A tugging sensation. Gentle, at first, so subtle you might think your mind is just playing tricks on you. Then it’s felt again, again and again until it’s undeniable and you feel yourself being pulled, gravitated to the light that showers you— but your physical body remains still. 

It’s trying to steal your soul, you realize, the tension in your muscles fading away, your heartbeat slowing until you feel your eyelids begin to weigh you down, your vision becoming a muddled haze, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 

It’s a discomfort that goes on for far too long— you think part of you is trying to resist, but your consciousness is left at such a small sliver that you’re not entirely sure. Your body has gone limp, eyes stuck wide open as you stare into this blinding light, a burning sensation bringing more tears to your already crying eyes. 

The feeling comes to an abrupt halt— it all fades to black. 

Is this it? you find yourself thinking, is it over?

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes— but that’s not what seems to be happening at all. You think you can still feel your body— though, it might be wishful thinking playing tricks on you. You can still hear things, though it’s faint; the splashing of rain that falls on the ground beside your ears, the thunder that crackles in the sky— a faint screeching, sounds of destruction, a panicked voice calling your name— and suddenly, you feel as though your body has been plunged into ice. 

A loud gasp rips through you, body jolting up as your lungs burn for oxygen— you begin to cough, and without realizing, your hands have begun to claw at your chest, nails digging into your skin and leaving scratches that pave way for blood to trickle out, running down your skin with the droplets of rain. 

It’s cold. So, so cold, your brain screams at you, head hung disorientedly as you begin to rock back and forth, skin tightening and prickling from the rain that has seeped through your clothes, leaving you a trembling, weeping mess. Are you still alive?

“___!” you think you recognize the prestigious uniform that falls into your weary line of sight, the hands that grab at your wrists to pry away your hands from your chest familiar. Yet even so, you can’t help the way you scream and thrash, wondering if this is the creature’s newest sick attempt to lower your guard, “___, please! It’s gone now, you’re okay!”

A strong hand gathers your wrists together and pins them to your lap, the other reaching out to cup your face, forcing your head back up. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to shake this hold off; they won’t budge. 

“___,” they plead, their voice breaking, “It’s Taehyun; please, look at me— please.”

His other hand reaches up, cradling your face in his hands as he quietly begs you to open your eyes; his thumbs caress along your cheekbones, and despite your racing mind telling you otherwise, you peek cautiously through your lashes. 

Everything is a big blur, and the night time doesn’t help at all. Your heaving chest begins to slow, leaving shaky breaths that continue to tremble your body— slowly, everything comes into view, and your eyes lock with a familiar pair of eyes. Dark, brown irises; normal, familiar, terrified. 

“You’re okay,” he breathes out, and his body physically reacts when you finally meet his gaze— without thinking, he’s pulling you close, against his firm frame that hides you away from the rest of the world. “You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

It seems as though the reassurances are for him just as much as they are for you; he holds you as though he never wants to let you go again, and his heartbeat pounds harshly against your ear; though you desperately want to, you can’t bring yourself to cry.

A moment passes where you’re both still, neither of you sure of what to say— then, you’re being pulled away, held by your shoulders as Taehyun stares you down with a stern gaze. 

“What happened?” he asks, scanning your face as though he could find the answer there, “why did the alarm to Yunah’s cauldron go off?”

“I— I don’t know,” your voice is hoarse, and you wonder why he didn’t ask you about the creature first, choosing to ask about the alarm instead. “The potion was just fine earlier, I don’t know what—”

“What potion?” Taehyun interrupts, his fingers beginning to dig into your skin— you wince, shaking your head as you try to remember, “Yunah didn’t leave anything in her cauldron.”

”She— she didn’t make it. I did,” his eyes widen with disbelief at your confession, jaw beginning to tick. “The woman, she begged me— I just wanted to help her.”

“Help?!” Taehyun repeats, as though saying it himself will help him understand, “you almost died!

“Whatever that thing was, it didn’t work!” you shake your head and try to explain yourself, but your fervent denial only angers Taehyun.

”You don’t understand,” you weakly let out, “it was working; she said I was capable of making it myself—”

“And you believed her?” Taehyun lets out a bewildered laugh, though it’s clear he finds no humor in the situation, “why in the world would it occur to you to do that? You’re a human!” 

You flinch at his hammered words, the aching of your body now a mere afterthought as you listen to his frustrations. 

“There’s not a single drop of magic in your blood. You need to accept that.” as much as you want to look away from Taehyun’s intense gaze, to push him away and go back inside, you can’t; you’re too weak to move even a single muscle. All you can do is sit there and get scolded like a child.

“This fantasy of yours almost cost you your soul— don’t you see how dangerous it is to try and force yourself somewhere you don’t belong?” he stresses, brows knitting together as he observes you carefully, wondering if anything he’s saying is getting through to you. You merely stare at him with shining eyes, willing yourself not to cry in front of him. 

“Don’t ever try to involve yourself in magic like this again.” He says firmly, “you’re lucky we were able to stop that thing when we did.”

At the word ‘we’, you finally find the strength to look away and just over his shoulder— sure enough, Dagonyang sits patiently behind Taehyun, staring up at you with wide eyes that are glaze with concern— your eyes widen as you take notice of his ear, split at the top and matting his fur with blood. You feel a lump in your throat, trying to hold back sobbed apologies— it’s probably the last thing Taehyun wants to hear right now.

“Don’t worry about him,” Taehyun swiftly says, having taken notice of your wandering gaze, “he’ll heal in no time.

“Can you stand?” you shift at his question, trying to get up— but you hiss the moment any pressure is put on your feet, and the two of you look down to find your ankle is swollen, an inky, ringed bruise forming right above the bone. 

”God, you’re all injured,” Taehyun grimaces, only now getting a good look at your appearance; worry tugs his features together as he takes in your soiled garments. “And dirty.”

“Come. You need to be tended to,” you can’t let out much of a protest when he’s sweeping you off your feet and picking you up, briskly walking back to your home. “and you can’t stay here. It’s a mess.”

Sure enough, you’re able to see just what he means as he passes through your once beloved home; it’s a wreck, with glass and herbs all over the floor, shattered furniture and the destroyed wall enough to make your stomach drop. All your hard work, your dreams, your passions— gone. 

You want to cry; you want to scream, to curl away in shame and hide yourself from the world forever, to kneel and beg for forgiveness until your throat is sore. You want the universe to swallow you whole, to go on without you, as though none of this ever happened, as though your existence never occurred.

You want to forget Taehyun’s disparaging words, to erase the degrading look in his eyes. You want to pretend as though all your fears weren’t only confirmed in the end, left with an insolent reminder that you’ll never be anything more than a mere human. 

 ○○○ 

“Raise your leg a bit more.” Taehyun’s hands are quick and nimble as they wrap gauze around your ankle, kneeling at your bedside as the two of you remain quiet— it’s the first thing he’s said to you all day. 

There’s an inappropriate sense of intimacy to this scene that you can’t help but be angered by. He has left his duties at the castle to take care of you, despite your persistent reluctance and refusal— but with your apothecary destroyed and your ankle still healing, you were given no other choice but to stay at Taehyun’s home until Yunah returned. It’s a small, quiet home, on the outskirts of the capital and away from the constant buzz and energy; it’s a change you’ve yet to get used to, but secretly welcome. You lean back on your hands as you avoid watching him, fingers digging into his comforter as you choose to stare out the window instead, at the chirping birds and wildlife that scampers around. 

The idea of staying in Taehyun’s home like this, donning his clothes and sleeping in his bed, was something that you only dreamed of during those secret, self-indulgent fantasies of yours— the kind where you lived a tranquil, domestic life, where nothing else mattered but the fact that you were together. The you of the past would positively keel over at seeing herself in such a position— yet, as Taehyun smooths down the bandages that compress your healing injury, a tension in the air so thick it forms a wall between you, you can’t help but wish you were anywhere but here. 

“Is it too tight?” His voice is barely above a murmur, and he doesn’t look up as he asks you the question, as though he were merely going through the motions and not asking about your comfort. You go to shake your head no before realizing he won’t see it. 

“No. It’s fine.” his thumbs run along your ankle, a gentle pressure that tries to linger— you pull your foot away and tuck yourself back into bed without another word, unwilling to do anything more than nestle yourself into the covers and hide away. Taehyun remains at your bedside for a minute, silence overtaking the room once again as he finally decides to take his leave.

“I’ve made lunch,” he offers, lingering at the doorway and watching you carefully; you don’t seem to acknowledge him, but he refuses to leave until he gets a response from you. 

“Thank you,” you finally say, “but I’m not hungry.”

You hear him leave with a frustrated sigh. 

Your time together continues on like this; you’re counting down the days until the apothecary is finished getting reconstructed and Yunah returns— her letters to you are endless now that she’s on the train back to the capital, having been notified by Taehyun of everything that happened the morning after; you were witness to her every emotion as she wrote to you— the fear, the guilt, and the relief that came with receiving her first response from you. When she asked to hear more details about that night, hoping to find an answer on why it all unfolded, you wrote as much as you could on the back of her letter, watching it recall back to its owner, curious on what the response from her would be; you told her of Irene and her reassurances that you could help, the ingredients, the mundane potion that brewed from it— but you’ve yet to get a response back. 

Instead of letting yourself get lost in her letters, Yunah’s abandoned you to this mess— days have passed, and you’ve yet to find the courage to talk to Taehyun again. Besides the quick, necessary communications shared, you try your best to avoid him all together. A strange anxiety fills your heart whenever you’re near him for too long, and you’ve resorted to hoping that you can run away from all this once Yunah returns. Maybe you can force her to handle his deliveries from now on. 

If only you could blame this strange dissonance of feelings on your tattered soul, still trying its best to heal from the trauma of that night. You’d like to think that, if you wait long enough, everything will smooth over, and you can go back to being that shy, hopeless romantic that became a puddle underneath Taehyun’s gaze.

It’s much better than this distance you’ve created now, anyway; you’ve grown fond of sitting out in the field behind Taehyun’s home as a way to avoid the tension that closes those four walls in on you, quietly taking in the grand landscape that stretches beyond— oftentimes, Dagonyang finds himself curled up in your lap, purring at your gentle hands that run through his fur. It’s become a ritual for you two, and if you look hard enough, you can even see the glowing lanterns of the capital. 

You can hear Taehyun call your name, already imagining the way he leans across the doorway, his arms crossed impatiently. You try your best to ignore him, his voice already making your heart rate spike— but he’s not having it, and when he calls your name once more, it’s stern; commanding. You jump at the sound, unable to help the way your mind is instantly flooded with memories of that night, where his nails bit at your skin and his eyes were filled with nothing but the deepest disappointment. You’ve stopped petting Dagonyang, and the cat has already jumped off your lap and started pattering off inside, leaving you alone on the field. A moment passes, and you slowly get up to avoid hearing Taehyun harshly call your name yet again.  

“It’s cold out, you should come in,” his voice has softened considerately, yet you still can’t find it in you to look at him— the sun has set and the night air nips at your skin, but you had no plans of going in anytime soon. He moves aside so you can step in. “I’ve made dinner.”

“Thank you.” you don’t catch it, but Taehyun frowns at your apathetic tone. He follows you inside, watching the way you trudge to the dinner table. 

His eyes are boring holes into your skin. You’re stuck looking at your plate, trying to keep up the act that you don’t feel his intense gaze burning into you, watching your every move. It’s quiet, as it has been for the past three days, and how it will be for the next three. 

A part of you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking right now— what he thinks of you. You wonder if his viewpoint on you has changed entirely since that night, having put him through such a terrible battle, which was only followed by sleepless nights of investigations on what happened; he’s yet to update you on what he’s found, leading you to believe that every direction he’s taken has been met with dead ends. Even now, Beomgyu’s words float around your mind like a persistent parasite; you’ve caused him enough trouble to stress him out for a lifetime— he’s stuck cleaning up your messes, stuck with you while he oversees your recovery. A simple human interrupting his busy life, dragging him down. You fear that if you look at him, you’ll find nothing but resentment in his eyes— you don’t think you could handle that discovery. 

It’s quiet as you both separate, going off to his bedroom while he goes off to his study where he’s been staying, much to your reluctance. While you nestle into the covers, attempting to fall asleep, you can hear the familiar sound of Taehyun humming in the room beside yours, undoubtedly spending yet another sleepless night on your case. It’s become something you secretly listen for, soothing your brain into a restless sleep, free of the nightmares that invaded your mind the first night you stayed in his room. With a heavy sigh, you allow yourself to rest, Taehyun’s song a lullaby that protects your fragile mind.

 ○○○   

Tomorrow marks the final day of your stay with Taehyun; you’ve finally recieved a letter from Yunah.

I’m sorry I took so long to respond, she writes to you, her writing messy and rushed; the parchment is a bit wrinkled in your hands, and your heart sinks as you continue to read. But I took everything you told me about and sent it to Taehyun— I had a hunch of what might’ve transpired from that night, and I had to make sure it was true before I sent you this. ___, please know that I’d only ask this of you if I were completely serious. 

Your heart stops as you read the next line, eyes glued to the parchment as though to make sure it weren’t misreading it— no matter how much you stare at it, the request stays the same. I think you need to move to the kingdom of Flora.

It’s much safer for you there— I know how much you must hate reading this, but please, think about it. That woman, Irene— a necromancer— shouldn’t have been able to get her hands on you like that; she took advantage of you, and I can’t forgive myself for putting you in such a vulnerable state— Taehyun is still trying to figure out how she was able to breach the kingdom after being banished for so long. 

I can’t risk her finding you again— you’d be able to live a quiet life there, tend to your garden, and I’d visit every day. You’re much better off there, you’d belong there perfectly; you wouldn’t have to deal with stupid architecture anymore, either. I’ve told Taehyun about the plan, and he’s found a place for you to stay in. Just say the word and he’ll take you. 

The paper is beginning to crumble in your hands, your grip tightening as you continue to read. You can’t believe this. 

I’m so sorry ___. You must hate me right now. But I can’t risk this happening to you again— I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself. Please, accept this offer; I’ll visit you the moment I’m off this stupid train. 

I love you,

Yunah

You know she expects to hear back from you soon; her handwriting is so small, and she’s left the entirety of the back for you to write on. Instead, you simply stare at the letter, reading and reading and reading it again until you have the whole thing memorized, until you’ve confirmed that you didn’t misunderstand a single sentence. The paper flutters in your hands from the wind— what you thought would be a peaceful reading outside has quickly turned into a torment, Dagonyang’s peacefully sleeping figure beside you nothing more than a mockery. 

Certain sentences stick out in your brain, your eyes instinctively flickering to them, etching them into your aching heart; one in particular seems to blare at you: you’d belong there perfectly.  

Belong there, you scoff, a bewildered laugh escaping you as you read it again— you feel your fingertips buzz from where you hold the letter, a sharp electricity shooting through your nervous system as you read it yet again, irked by her words. It builds and buzzes inside you until you’re a trembling mess, unsure of what to do with this anger that bubbles up like lava; your eyes are inevitably drawn to a different sentence, your new breaking point: I’ve told Taehyun about the plan. Just say the word and he’ll take you.

God, you’re trembling with anger— he’s just going to send you away? Just like that? Do you really have a say in this, when everyone wants you gone so desperately? Your nails dig into the parchment, pushing and pushing until they break through— the hot, bubbling anger that simmered under your skin erupts, and before you can give it a second thought, you’re ripping the parchment to shreds, tearing it until it’s nothing more than fragments that are carried off by the wind. You watch them flutter off, curling up in defeat as you will yourself not to cry.

All these years spent with Yunah, proving yourself and succeeding together, were they just a lie? Was any of it real when Yunah, the woman who swore up and down that she’d never put much importance on your differences, was convinced you belonged somewhere other than the place you built your entire life in?

The sun has set, and Dagonyang has left your side after the chill of night emerged— but you remain the same, attempting to wrap your head around the news you’ve read, of the things that are expected of you.

Taehyun has come out in search of you again. The sound of his voice is nothing but salt in your wound, a reminder that tomorrow, you’re expected to leave the city and never turn back. He calls out your name multiple times, but you’ve yet to budge— by the fourth time, he sighs and makes his way over to you. 

“___ please, won’t you stop sulking and come inside—?” Taehyun’s voice is caught in his throat as you finally look up, and at him. Pupils locking firmly with his, your eyes wide and glassy, an intense stare that dares him to look away.

“Did you and Yunah have fun? Stringing me along like this?” you say, standing up and glaring at Taehyun; he frowns, opening his mouth to say something, but is left speechless. “Making me believe that I’d ever belong in a place like this, when in reality, you were no better than everyone else here that saw me as a little pet!” 

“What?” he breathes out, “What are you talking about?”

“Yunah told me everything!” you shout, feeling emotions catching in your throat, stinging your eyes, “Irene, the plan— you expect me to pack up my life and hide myself away just so you can feel better?”

Taehyun seems to have caught on to what you mean. “___, you need to understand where we’re coming from—”

“Why? I’m a person too!”  it’s all become too much for you, and you’ve begun to choke up on your words— it’s too much, confronting Taehyun like this, even more so when it feels like he’s not listening. “I can’t just give everything up because you guys don’t want to deal with me!”

He flinches at your words, and you find confusion starting to overtake his face, his voice nothing more than a murmur. “What? 

You scoff at his confusion. “Please, don’t try to act innocent— I get it, I really do— I put you in this crazy mess; I’ve dragged you down enough, and I know you want nothing more than for me to go away, but honest to god, I’m not asking you to look after me like this!” 

Tears have begun to well up in your eyes— you feel humiliated, leaving yourself vulnerable like this, but you can’t seem to stop talking; every little thought that’s nagged you in the back of your mind is now coming out like word vomit, and you can’t seem to stop it. 

“If this weak, foolish human wants to stay in this big, scary, magical kingdom, then just let me!” you cry out, ignoring the way he shakes his head at your words, “let me get messed with, let me make mistakes, let me get tricked— and if it doesn’t end well, then so be it!

“But I will not sit around and let you make decisions for me— I am not going to Flora because it’s where you think I belong,” you’re practically shaking with anger at the thought, gritting your teeth at Taehyun, “I refuse to.”

“It’s not that easy,” Taehyun starts, shaking his head at your naivety, “we can’t risk Irene coming back just because you want to stay here—”

“Were you even listening to me?!” you’re exasperated, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “you want to get rid of me that bad? What, are you gonna tell me this was all your idea next—?”

“You think I want to abandon you?!” It’s the first time he’s raised his voice at you like this since that night, and you can’t help the way you flinch at the sound— he hesitates to continue at the sight. “You think I’m happy with all of this? Do you really think it was my idea to send you off like this, away from me?”

Your face falls at his words.

”Yunah was mortified when I told her what happened. She couldn’t stop blaming herself for it,” Taehyun runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “She was set on the fact that you needed to be relocated— that Irene would come back for you if you stayed.”

His eyes flicker away from yours, but even so, you still catch the way they shine under the moonlight; his voice wavers as he speaks. 

“That night… it haunts me.” he looks back at you, brows knitting together at the thought, “I almost lost you. To this day, I still haven’t the slightest clue on how I was able to destroy that— that thing.”

“I’d rather die than get rid of you,” his voice has dropped significantly, and there’s an edge that makes it tremble slightly— an emotion that fights to break free, nearing you as he speaks, “you’re not a burden. I don’t care that you’re human— I’d look after you no matter what you were. I’d pick up all of your messes, I’d get involved in every disaster you caused. I’d happily let you drag me down, if it meant being with you.”

“I just can’t afford to lose you,” he says weakly; he’s just a step away from you now, his face so close you can analyze the look in his eyes, count every eyelash that brushes against his skin with every blink, “and if it meant letting you go to keep you safe… I’d do that, too.”

It’s quiet. The breeze continues to whistle between the branches of the trees around you, The wildlife that’s hidden within the forest now sound asleep. The stars are out tonight, as is the moon— it casts a soft glow onto the man before you, his sparkling eyes looking at you with something so intense, it makes your knees week. He’s so close, you think that if you leaned in a little, you could…

”Taehyun,” you breathe out; his eyes flash with desperation at the sound of his name falling from your lips. “I don’t want to leave.”

He gulps.

”Then don’t.” 

Time seems to still the moment the words come out his mouth, the two of you stuck where you are— hesitant, afraid to go on with what you both desperately want. His eyes flicker down to your lips; his hands twitch at his sides. He watches as you slowly reach out, cupping a gentle hand around his face, fingertips caressing the strong jawline, the soft curve of his cheekbones, the dimple that indents his cheek as he presses his lips together and swallows. He lets you bring him closer to you, leaning until your other hand is able to land on his nape, tangling with his dark hair— he lets you come closer, feeling your breath mix with his, seeing your eyes flutter shut, your lips slightly trembling as they part; his heart is on the verge of combusting as he feels your lips press gently against his. 

It’s a quick, soft peck— you’re pulling away immediately, wide eyes looking at Taehyun as though you’ve done something wrong; he’s quick to show you you’ve done anything but, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back in, showing you just how much he reciprocates this. 

Taehyun kisses you with a primal hunger that makes your legs weak, sighing softly against his lips, sharp canines playfully biting at your flesh to hear the way you gasp, pulling lightly at his hair in response. His hand smooths up your back, going back down and pulling you even closer, until your bodies are flush together and you’re grabbing onto him for support— his other hand has found itself on the back of your head, keeping you close, unable to run from his starved kiss. 

You try desperately to ignore the burning of your lungs, but you’re getting lightheaded— gently, you go to move away from Taehyun, the man immediately pulling away to gauge your reaction; when he finds nothing but dazed, lovestruck eyes looking back at him, your hand that rests on his shoulder gripping onto him a little tighter, he lets out an airy laugh. 

“Tell me to stop,” the look in his eyes is slowly darkening, losing that innocent shine to make way for something more— something desperate. His hand on your back has begun to wander dangerously low, hovering at the small of your back and threatening to go lower— his eyes flicker down to your shining, swollen lips, ready to dive back in, but he holds himself back. “Tell me to end it here, and I’ll listen.”

You can hear the restraint in his voice, a warning of what may come— but even then, you shake your head; his eyes darken at the sight. Your voice is a breathy whisper that makes him shiver. “I don’t want you to stop. Don’t hold back.”

He curses under his breath before he’s diving back in, returning with a fervor that makes your mind spin. He’s rougher, needier, eating you up and indulging in every little thing you give him— your gasps, your whines, your fingers that dig into his skin and pull at his hair— it all fuels him even more, finally able to release the frustration that’s been pent up for a long time. 

“I need you,” he murmurs against your mouth, reaching down to grab your ass, pressing you firmly against him— you gasp, feeling him already hardening, and he takes that opportunity to explore every inch of you; he groans softly, rolling his hips forward. “I need you so bad.”

“You have me,” you say, breathless— he lets out a small moan at your words, pressing himself harshly against you, whining at a particularly firm thrust that allows you to take in the outline of his cock, “take me.”

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, and before you can understand what’s happening, he’s picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, strong arms holding you up as he leans back in to kiss you— he brings the two of you inside, letting out a soft groan at the way you tangle your hands in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

It doesn’t take long before he’s kicking his bedroom door shut and laying you down on the bed— it’s only then that he’s able to part from you, holding himself up as he takes you in properly, watching as you whine and try to tug him back down; he chuckles, caving in instantly before he’s guiding you up on the bed, letting your head fall back on his pillows and making sure you’re comfortable. 

”God, you’re so beautiful,” he finds himself sighing out, sitting back on his knees as he takes a good look at you— you squirm under the intensity of his gaze, his hands running up and down your sides absentmindedly, feeling your warm skin heat up against his. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” Taehyun seems to be talking more to himself at this point, lost in your trance as you begin to guide him to take your undress you, his eyes never straying from your body as he looks at you in pure awe— you shiver at the groan he lets out when your bra is finally thrown to the side, his lips immediately coming down to press a kiss right on your chest, giving you another before he’s wandering down and latching his lips around your nipple; your back arches at the warmth of his mouth, a quiet mewl escaping you.

His hands have begun to venture down to your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants and tugging it so he can slip a hand inside. Your fingers card through his hair absentmindedly, pulling at it desperately the moment his fingers begin to press at your cunt over your soaked panties, fingertips running up and down your slit to feel the way you begin to moan breathlessly, hips bucking against his hand in search of more— but he’s a tease, going up to gently circle your clit, a ghost touch that shoots sparks straight to your core and empties your mind. 

“Please— don’t tease,” you breathe out, head falling back as he presses two fingers against your clenching hole through your panties, chuckling at the way you try to suck him in, desperate to feel yourself stretched out— the feeling is disappearing just as quick as it came, and his hand is leaving your cunt to grab your hips, holding you in place as he slots himself between your legs.

”Can’t help myself,” he murmurs against your lips forcing your hips to angle up so he can grind down against you; he’s savoring the feeling, smiling against your mouth as he presses his cock firmly against your entrance, your hands anchoring on his shoulders as you whimper weakly, “you just make the prettiest noises.”

“Wanna hear you like this all night,” he’s picked up a rhythm as he grinds against you, rough hands holding you from bucking your hips back— all you can do is lie there and take it, pleasure tumbling from your mouth as his lips begin to wander to your jawline, trailing gentle kisses that travel to your neck; nipping at it playfully, he holds back a laugh at the way you jolt against him. “Think you can take it?”

“I can. I can take it,” you rush to say, arching back making your chest press against his, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt as you silently beg him to take it off, “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, finally breaking away to give in to your demands— you lie back in awe as he finally pulls his shirt over his head, eyes glued to the muscles he’s been hiding away from you, desperate to commit it all to your memory; reaching out, you run your hands down his body, down his shoulders to his firm chest, down the abs on his stomach that flinch at your nails that scratch at his skin, until you’ve reached the waistband of his pants, tugging at it in hopes that he’ll give in to your desperation and just give you what you need— instead, he takes your hands in his, tutting softly at you before he’s putting them above your head. 

“Taehyun, c’mon,” you whine, trying to tug your hands out of his grip; it tightens in response, your voice wavering as he looks up at you, raising a brow in warning; even then, you refuse to give up on your complaints.

”You’re taking too long,” you tease, bucking your hips up desperately, “are you gonna do anything?”

Without warning, you begin to feel a warm sensation on your wrists, a slight tingling that makes you look up at your bound hands— you find a silver glow where Taehyun’s hands hold onto yours, eyes widening as you watch him let go of your hands now bound by his magic. Your head snaps down to send Taehyun a petulant glare. 

“Oh, you’re mean.” 

“You started it,” he chirps, using his newfound mobility to run his hands down your sides, until he’s gripping your hips and stripping you down to nothing more than your soaked panties; your face heats up at the vulnerability of the situation, trying to hide your face in your arms as you watch him settle down on his stomach between your legs— you try to squeeze your thighs together shyly, and Taehyun tsks; a pathetic yelp leaves you as he spanks your thigh.

“Taehyun,” you whine, starting to feel that familiar warmth circling around your thighs, an invisible force that makes you part your legs, left completely vulnerable to the man who’s now situating your legs over his shoulders, held still by his magic, “this is so unfair!” 

“You got yourself into this mess, baby,” he scolds you, kissing your inner knee, going up until he’s at the apex of your thigh, smiling at the way they shake, “y’gotta learn how to be patient.”

His words are enough to make you nervous, squirming in his grip as he slowly slides down your panties, indulging in the wet slick that sticks to the fabric, eagerly shifting closer to your center. 

He places a kiss on your mound first; you want to squeeze your eyes shut and complain, aware of this game he wants to play. But you bite your tongue, looking down curiously to catch the way he looks up at you through his lashes, smiling when you make eye contact before moving down just a bit more and placing a gentle kiss on your clit— you feel the breathiness of his laugh when you jolt at the sensation, plush lips warm against your swollen, needy clit. He takes his sweet time before doing anything more— warm hands running up and down your thighs lovingly, watching you get more desperate as the seconds go by, chest heaving and slick dripping from your entrance pathetically.

He presses another kiss to your clit; then another, and another, until he finally parts his lips to suck the pearl into his mouth, running his tongue along it and closing his eyes in bliss, listening keenly for the broken moans of his name you let out. His tongue lolls out to firmly lick at your clit, circling around it before trailing down, running along your folds and licking up the arousal that had been dribbling down to the bedsheets eagerly, feeling the way you try to squirm and break free from the binds that keep you spread open for him.

“Tyunnie, please— stop being mean,” you cry at some point, feeling as though you’re going insane with the way his tongue is buried deep inside you, face pressed against your cunt and eyes closed in pure bliss, nose brushing against your clit as he continues to eat you out; you try to struggle against the binds on your wrists, but they won’t budge. “please, I wanna touch you.”

When he finally pulls away, it’s only to send you a mean grin. “You gotta be patient,” he reminds you, leaning down to lick a firm strip from your entrance to your clit, feeling the way you shudder against him, “let me have my fun first, okay?”

You go to curse at him under your breath, but it all falls short the moment you feel his fingertips begin to circle your entrance, collecting the arousal that leaks through your hole before slowly pushing in his ring and middle finger in. Your eyes flutter shut, the knot in your stomach only tightening at the stretch, lithe fingers slowly pushing in until it hits the knuckle, dedicated mouth not stopping its ministrations on your clit all the while. When he can no longer push in, he curls his fingers curiously, picking up gentle pace and pressing against your warm walls until he hears your breath stutter, your thighs jolting when he hits a particular spot; you feel a breathy laugh against your clit, and he proceeds to hit that sensitive spot until you’re a shaking, pleading mess.

”Taehyun,” you whine, nails digging into the palm of your hands as the pleasure begins to dizzy you, “T— Taehyun, tyun, I can’t— feels so good, please don’t stop, please.”

Your muscles are beginning to tense, chest heaving as you feel the fire in your stomach growing hotter, mouth falling open as he continues to suck on your clit, thrusting his fingers into you a little faster. until you’re squeezing your eyes shut and bucking your hips against his mouth, crying out his name with broken pleas to cum.

It comes crashes down so suddenly— a shiver wracks through you and you can only choke out a soft call of Taehyun’s name as your orgasm rips through you, cunt fluttering around his fingers that continue to curl and thrust into you, his tongue wandering from your throbbing clit to your entrance as he licks up all the arousal that spills around his fingers, groaning softly at the tight squeeze and the taste of your cum on his mouth; he’s addicted, helping you ride it out until your body becomes sensitive, bleary eyes peeking down to see that he has yet to stop, and doesn’t plan to any time soon. 

“Tyun,” you breathe out; the man merely glances up at you before returning back to your cunt, feeling your cunt clench as he curls his fingers against you once more, smiling at the yelp that follows, “Tyun, it’s too much, I’m sensitive—!” 

“Want you to give me another one,” he murmurs against you, his fingers stiling inside you as he says it; he finally looks up at you, and you find a primal need in his eyes, his hand that’s holding your thigh gripping you a little harder, as though afraid you would run away, “can you do that for me?”

You take a second to catch your breath, his eyes following the rise and fall of your chest as though in a trance; he leans down to place kisses along your skin yet again, against your navel and around your pelvic bone as he lets you take a moment to answer; he nips softly at your hip bone, and you feel your resolve crumble in an instant. 

“Yes,” the word is barely slipping from your tongue before Taehyun is diving back in, moving with such desperation that all you can do is lay back and watch in awe. He’s taken note of what drives you crazy, eager to use it against you; your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming as he hits your sweet spot continuously, sucking your clit and running his tongue along it until he’s building you up even faster than he did before, an undeniably triumphant smile tugging at his lips the moment you start sobbing that you’re going to cum again. 

You’re desperate to thrash around under him, to clamp your legs around his head and run your fingers through his hair, but all you can do is lay there and buck your hips against his mouth, teary eyes unable to look away from the sight before you, pleasure crashing down on you and leaving your body a trembling, buzzing mess. 

“There you go pretty girl, y’listen so well,” he coos against you, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm with a gentle pace of his fingers, kissing your clit lovingly between his praises. “Sound so good, just. For. Me.” 

The rings that bound your wrists and thighs are buzzing for a moment before it all fades away; you only let your muscles relax for a second before you’re immediately reaching down to run your fingers through Taehyun’s hair, lacing through the dark locks before tugging and guiding him back up— he lets you, an amused chuckle leaving his lips as he crawls over you, situating himself between your legs that still twitch with aftershocks, his arms by your head that hold him up caging you in. He takes a moment to observe you, eyes warm with an undeniable fondness as he takes in your shiny eyes and swollen lips, glancing down at your chest that heaves as you try to catch your breath. Reaching to cup your face, he runs his thumb along your cheekbone before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, slow kiss.

“This is better than anything I imagined,” he confesses quietly, and you don’t bother holding back the smile that breaks out against his mouth.

“You imagined this?”

“So many times,” he immediately breathes out, tilting his head to kiss you deeper before pulling away briefly, letting go of your face to tug at his remaining clothes, “thought of having you under me like this so many times, making you feel good like this.”

You hum softly at his words, running your fingers through his hair and pulling gently at the roots, tangling comfortably around his nape.

”Thought about making you mine,” he whispers softly, and for the first time, you spot a bit of hesitance in his voice— a vulnerability that doesn’t slip past you, picking it up between his kisses that begin to linger along your face, from your cupid's bow to your jawline; his breath stutters, and you gasp— his cockhead is thick and sticky with precum as it presses against your entrance, his hand that wraps around the length taking its time to rub up and down your slit, lingering and pressing down at your clit teasingly. The mixture of your arousals is loud, and if the feeling of his cock sliding up and down your awaiting cunt wasn’t driving you crazy, you would’ve hid your face in your hands from embarrassment. 

“I’ve imagined so many times how you’d feel… how you’d sound so pretty,” he moans softly, the reminder making his hips buck unexpectedly against you, the two of you gasping as his tip prods at your hole for just a second, “Thought of keeping you here with me. Of being all yours.”

He hears the way you whimper quietly at that last part, feels your thighs press against his hips, antsy hands pulling at his hair as a quiet plea for more— he’s driving you crazy, and his sweet words against your skin are definitely not helping.

“I want that— I want to stay with you,” you’re guiding Taehyun to look up at you again, watching his dazed eyes lock onto yours, drowning with a primal need that burns hotter the longer he looks at you. Your hand wanders from his hair and down the expanse of his broad back, until you’re pressing at the small of his back and urging his hips forward; you don’t dare look away from him for a second, determined to make him see your resolve. “Taehyun, please.”

Your voice is a siren’s song to him; his cock twitches at the blatant need on your face, and without further warning, his guiding his cock inside you. The stretch makes your mouth fall open and your head loll back onto the pillows; he’s so thick, and you can feel it pulse the more it makes its way inside your cunt, holding your breath at the burn that ebbs away into pleasure— by the time his hips are flush against yours, you’re leaking onto the sheets beneath you, feeling as though he’s so deep you can’t breathe.

“You feel so good,” Taehyun weakly groans, glancing down to where your bodies meet before moaning again, “so fucking good, fuck. You’re perfect.”

You can only bring yourself to whimper weakly against his lips that peck at yours; you don’t think you could begin to put the way he feels into words, so full of him that it’s making you dizzy. He remains still for a second, the two of you basking in the feeling of each other, his cock twitching inside your fluttering walls, a mess of slick dripping from your entrance the longer you’re left to wait in anticipation. 

“Ready, baby?” he asks softly, having noticed your dazed expression. You’re eager to nod, clumsy hips rolling forward and making him press harder against you— you shiver at the feeling, barely able to register Taehyun’s amused chuckle as he slowly begins to pull out. 

It’s a slow, quiet moment, your nails digging into his skin as the two of you savor the feeling of each other, stuttered breaths and soft whimpers the only thing filling the air. He pulls out until only his tip is left inside you, pushing back in and filling you up with one swift motion. You let out a loud moan at the feeling, mind spinning at the way his cock curves and presses against your walls, teasing your sweet spot. Taehyun does this again, his head that was once hanging to allow him to watch the way he disappeared inside you now hovering above yours, watching carefully as your eyes widen and brows knit together with pleasure at every thrust; a sly smile sneaks onto his face as you quietly moan out his name.

“Feels good?” he asks, punctuating his question with a sudden, rough thrust that has you jolting; your nails dig into his skin just a little more, and he’s shifting, sitting up to take a good look at you. 

“You’re so cute,” he laughs, “barely even started and you’re already a mess. You sure you can take it?”

“I can,” you whine petulantly, feeling him slow down his pace, barely moving inside you, “Tyun, I need more…”

“Hmm? I don’t know, baby,”  he’s slowly rutting his hips into you, enjoying the way you pout at him, “can you ask nicely?”

Your face heats up at his words; it’s such a bold request, one that has you trying to shy away from his gaze, intense and hungry as it watches you every move. Clearing your throat, you try to ignore how pathetic you sound. 

“Please… Taehyun,” he’s shifting, moving so that he’s hovering over you, a strong hand rubbing up and down your thigh as he props himself up with his elbow, a coy smile stuck to his face. “I want you to fuck me, please— I need it, want you to give it to me.”

“Such a sweet angel,” he coos, pecking your lips before he’s beginning to thrust back into you, burying himself as deep as he can before he’s picking up the pace, more and more until his cock is abusing your leaking cunt and your body is jolting with every thrust, your eyes squeezing with bliss, “You’re so perfect, how could I ever say no to you?”

His hand on your thigh is grabbing on tight, hiking up your leg to wrap around his waist, hips angling so that he can reach deeper into you. He’s practically fucking you into the mattress, thick cock stretching you out and rubbing against your walls so perfectly, his soft moans and sighs of your name making you clench around him each time. 

He feels so good against you, strong, firm muscle against your body, honey skin smooth beneath your hands that scratch at his back, leaving a particularly harsh trail after he thrusts against your sweet spot, the grunt of pain he lets out in your ear only making you clench around him harder— he’s filling your senses, cooing out soft praises and placing gentle kisses along your jawline, groaning out your name when he feels the way you begin to tighten around him, hips growing restless against his. 

“I’m close,” you whimper, legs mindlessly wrapping around his waist, wanting him to be flush against you, “fuck— please don’t stop, you feel so good.”

“I’m close too, angel,” he murmurs, hand letting go of your thigh to reach up for your own, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hand against the mattress, “want you to cum for me. Wanna feel it, wanna listen to those pretty little sounds of yours.”

“Cum inside me,” the request slips from your mouth before you can think too much of it; judging by the way Taehyun’s hips stutter and he lets out a weak moan against your skin, you’re sure your words have affected him. When he asks if you mean it, you nod. “Please— wanna be filled up, please cum inside.”

Taehyun moves from his place in your neck to watch you closely, feeling his own orgasm building up intensely; his eyes scan your face, memorizing every detail of your expression, listening to the way your moans pick up in desperation. 

“Baby,” he says, and when you don’t look at him, he calls out your name; it’s soft, broken, a moan that has your eyes fluttering open to meet his. “You gonna cum baby?” 

You nod, eyes rolling back when he reaches down to rub your clit, dizzy at the pleasure. 

”Look at me,” he says, feeling his pace become sloppy as his own orgasm approaches, desperate to watch you fall apart, “wanna watch you when you cum.”

He grinds his hips against you firmly, his tip rutting against your sweet spot making you unravel in an instant, your hand that squeezes against his instantly being squeezed back in silent reassurance. The pleasure crashes on you so intensely, your mind going blank save for Taehyun’s name that you repeat like a prayer. Your eyes never leave his, watching as he follows you seconds after, his brows furrowing and his jaw clenching before he lets out a weak moan of your name, cock continuing to thrust slowly into you as he cums. 

It’s so warm, a constant pulsing of is cock that fills you up until it no longer can, sticky cum leaking from your entrance and smearing against your skin as he keeps fucking the two of you through it, until your body slumps against the bed and he melts down onto you, burying his head in your neck.

You don’t know how long you stay like this, drifting in and out of  consciousness; his cock nestled into you, his hand that holds yours tight, the pressure of his body against yours, pinning you to the bed, keeping you safe. He’s warm, and you can feel your chests rising and falling slowly, feel his heartbeat that attempts to return back to normal, his breath a gentle sensation against your skin. 

“I meant everything I said. And more,” he suddenly speaks up, burying his head into you, fond of the comfort it brings, “Stay with me. I don’t care what Yunah thinks is best for you— I want you to stay.”

A moment passes, and you allow yourself to think. You feel his hold on you tighten the longer this silence continues, as though afraid this might be the last time he’ll have you like this.

“Taehyun,” you say softly, feeling him tense against you, “I want to stay too.”

It’s instant, the way he melts against you in relief. He sighs, placing a kiss on the crook of your neck. 

“Thank god,” he murmurs, beginning to litter kisses all along your skin, not stopping until you’re a giggly mess beneath him, “thank god. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll never get rid of me,” you grin, cupping his face and guiding him to kiss you, gentle, sweet, “not if I can help it.”

“Good,” bringing up your hands that are still interlaced, he kisses the back of your hand before giving you a sweet smile. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

○○○

It’s late at night when you hear the bell ring— you don’t pay it any mind, continuing to organize the shelf behind the counter as Yunah greets the new guest, leaving to the back to search for ingredients for her potion.

It’s quiet, and you hear the way they wander along the floor, moving from shelf to shelf, picking up jars before setting them back down with a soft clink; you can’t help but hope that they’ll leave soon, left with only five minutes before you’re able to shut the apothecary— you itch to leave, to go back home and see Taehyun. 

You’re too concentrated on labelling the jars to realize that the customer has been waiting at the counter impatiently, watching as you continue to show your back to them.

“Beomgyu’s right,” you feel a warm sensation along your waist, and before you can process what’s happening, you’re being dragged away from the shelf with a gasp— you’re hovering just above the floor, unable to do anything more than get dragged around the counter and into a certain someone’s awaiting arms; Taehyun is quick to hug you close the moment his magic brings you to him, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek before laughing at your expression. “you do need to work on your customer service.”

You frown. “What? What has he been telling you?”

“Oh nothing. That you’re never greeting him properly, always off in your own little world,” he spins you around with ease, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you in close. “daydreaming about me.”

“Oh god,” you roll your eyes, already imagining the stupidities Beomgyu has been feeding Taehyun, “how childish. I don’t want you talking to him anymore.”

”It was your idea to introduce us properly, love,” he reminds you, a smug smile on his face, “you’ve gotta deal with the consequences now.”

You can only bring yourself to grumble a soft whatever, scanning the apothecary curiously before sending Taehyun a pout. “Where’s Dago?”

He smiles, expectant of the question. “At home. He’s been missing you all day.”

“Then what are we waiting for?!” you push him away, running behind the counter to grab your bag, “let’s go home!” 

It’s instinct to lace your fingers with Taehyun’s waiting hand, turning around to catch Yunah reappearing from the back, a trail of jars behind you. 

“Heading out for the night?” she asks, smiling at the way you nod happily, “See you tomorrow then. Get home safe you two.” 

“We will. Love ya!” you chirp, watching Taehyun bid her goodbye before following you out the store. 

“Long day, Tyunnie?” you ask, the two of you beginning your trip home, “you’re dragging your feet.”

“You have no idea,” he sighs, and when you ask if he wants to talk about it, he shakes his head. “Maybe later. Don’t feel like boring you with the meeting we had today.”

”All I could think about was how much I missed you,” he trails off a bit, eyes darkening as he begins to observe you carefully, amused at the way you still fluster at his gaze, “could barely pay attention to what was being said.”

You scoff, refusing to give into his antics so easily. “Surprised they haven’t fired you.”

“C’mon baby, don’t be mean,” he teases you, tugging your hand to pull you into his side, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek, “is it so hard to believe that I’m so in love with you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” you bite back a teasing smile, “you’ll have to prove it.”

He chuckles, a dark, mischievous sound that already has you shivering with anticipation. 

“Guess we’ll have to hurry home then.”

You can’t bring yourself to resist as he sweeps you off your feet, a warm silver glow encasing you as he takes you home the fastest way he can— if anything, you merely tease him about his eagerness, which he swiftly makes you take back after a long, long night of proving himself. 

taglist: @xylatox, @fancypeacepersona, @taebatu, @prettypeachprincesz, @archoive, @bingsoob, @fatbixchwithanopinion, @notanotherbigfangirl, @soobundle1009, @barbielibra

[bettelaboure]

⊹The Box⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

fifth part in series "Course in Chemistry"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual content, embarrassment, mature language, peer pressure, and high school dynamics involving gossip and judgment

⊹ Summary: Y/N helps Seung-Hyun explore his sexual curiosity through an intimate and consensual encounter that begins with erotic media and leads to mutual physical exploration

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jae-mi placed the oversized box on her front porch with a dramatic sigh, brushing her hands down the sides of her jeans as she straightened up.

 "How much do you even have in there?" you asked, squinting suspiciously at the box like it might start vibrating or emitting pheromones. It was that big.

"All the DVDs, magazines, and books that are going to sell out faster than Bible at a church book club. I’ve been posted by the door all morning, guarding the packages like a watchdog. If my mom had opened even one of them..." She shuddered theatrically.

You let out a low laugh, bending down to lift the box—and immediately questioned your life choices. "Jesus, are there bricks in here too?"

Jae-mi smirked and tugged her cardigan tighter against the sharp morning breeze. She tilted her chin at the box. "So? What’s your game plan? Any idea where you're gonna start?"

You paused. The truth? You hadn’t decided. Last night, you were too busy fantasizing about taking down Se-mi in a slow, deliciously petty unraveling of her perfectly curated little life.

That fire still simmered, but for today? You needed to be strategic. Needed certain tools. Certain people. And Choi Seung-Hyun was the centerpiece.

"...I don’t know. I’ll figure out what sparks his interest first."

She made a noise somewhere between a click and a tut and gave you that look like she was dying to say more—but held back. Good friend, that one. You pretended not to notice and grabbed your car keys from your hoodie pocket.

“Thanks again. Seriously.”

Jae-mi wiggled her brows. “No problem, my little sex demon. Now go rock this poor boy’s world—or his dick, if we’re being technical.”

You barked a laugh, flipping her off with a grin as you headed to your car. The box thudded into the trunk and, with a satisfying slam, your plan was officially in motion.

Choi Seung-Hyun’s house was quiet when you arrived. No cars in the driveway. Perfect. You hoped that meant both parents were out. 

You carried the sealed box up the front steps like you were delivering sin in cardboard form. Jae-mi had even taped it closed tight—thank god. Couldn’t have the neighbors seeing a stranger lugging a porn stash through the neighborhood like Santa’s pervy cousin.

You knocked three times, then adjusted the hem of your skirt and twirled a bit of your ponytail around your finger. Within seconds, you heard soft footsteps from inside.

Then the door opened—and there he was.

Tall. Wide-eyed. Caught off guard and looking dangerously adorable in a faded T-shirt and house slippers.

“Y/N?” Seung-Hyun blinked in disbelief. “What are you—”

“Oh, you thought ditching me Friday got you off the hook?” You didn’t wait for him to finish. You breezed past him and plopped the box onto his living room coffee table with a satisfying thud. “Nope. Nerd boy, we have a deal.”

He stood frozen in the doorway, completely lost.

“W-What are you doing here?” he stammered, eyes darting between you and the box like he thought it might explode.

“I told you,” you said, spinning on your heel to face him with hands on hips. “We. Have. A. Deal. Now, are you going to close the door, or should your neighbors get front-row seats to your sexual awakening?”

That got him. Seung-Hyun scrambled to shut the door, ears already burning pink. He fidgeted, mouth twitching like he wanted to explain something but didn’t know where to start.

“I just thought that…”

You cut him off, brow arched. “What, because I gave you your first orgasm I wouldn’t want to look at you again? Please. I’ve given plenty of boys orgasms. You’re not special.”

That clearly landed wrong. His expression twisted in embarrassment.

“I-It’s not that,” he mumbled. “It’s just… it was intense. And fast. And… messy.”

You paused, something soft blooming unexpectedly in your chest.

Poor boy.

No one had ever taught him. He’d probably been walking around thinking he was defective or weird, and now he was standing there, braving humiliation because he wanted to learn. You bit back the teasing for just a moment.

“Look,” you sighed, tugging your ponytail tighter. “I should’ve explained more. I just assumed you’d… y’know… handled yourself before.”

“I told you I’m a virgin,” he said, his tone low. “Why would I…?”

“I meant jerking off, Seung-Hyun.” You didn’t sugarcoat it.

His face turned crimson.

“Oh my god,” you said softly, piecing it together. “You haven’t. At all?”

He hesitated. His lips parted, then closed again. Then he gave a stiff little shake of his head. “No… I haven’t. I just…”

You stepped closer.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice gentler now. “I'm not here to judge you. That’s not what this is. You’re literally helping me, remember? I’d never use this against you.”

“I’m just… scared, I guess,” he admitted, barely above a whisper.

That made your heart actually skip.

“Scared?” you echoed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I mean—I know how, technically. But when I think about actually doing it, I feel… weird. Like I’m going to do it wrong. Or—ugh, never mind.”

You reached out and gently touched his wrist. “Hey. I get it. But that’s why I’m here. We’re going to ease into it. No pressure. Just… curiosity.”

His dark eyes met yours, full of hesitance but also something warm. Trusting.

You turned back to the box and sliced it open.

Inside: six erotic novels, ten DVDs, a few wrinkled magazines, a box of condoms, and—dear lord—a tub of Vaseline.

You rolled your eyes. Thanks, Jae-mi.

Seung-Hyun leaned in and saw the contents—and instantly recoiled like he’d seen a live snake. “What—what is all this?!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t pick it,” you said, holding up your hands. “It was Jae-mi.”

He blinked. “Jae-mi? As in… Jo Jae-mi?”

“Yep. My partner in crime. Don’t worry—she’s discreet.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. I never disliked her.”

You smiled. “Good. Now.” You rummaged through the stash and picked out three items: a lightly erotic magazine, a novel with individual short stories, and a DVD labeled Solo Male: Beginners Edition.

“This is your starter pack,” you announced, setting them down in front of him.

He gawked. “You want me to…?”

“Go upstairs,” you said gently. “Look through the magazine. Read the first chapter. Watch a bit of the DVD. You don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready. Just get comfortable. Learn what feels good. Learn what interests you.”

Seung-Hyun hesitated, then slowly picked up the stack, handling it like sacred scrolls. “And I’m going… alone?”

You smiled. “Yes. You need to figure out you first before someone else joins the equation.”

He nodded, cheeks flushed, and padded up the stairs in his socks, clutching the materials like they might vanish.

The moment his door shut, you let out a long breath and planted a hand on your hip.

“Right,” you muttered. You decided to organize the rest of the box by heat level: vanilla, hot, and spicy as hell. Some of the stuff was wild—positions and combinations that made you question human anatomy.

After a while, boredom crept in, and your eyes drifted to the framed photos on the walls. Childhood Seung-Hyun: science fair ribbons, trophies, spelling bees. There were also beach photos—him with an older girl, splashing, building sandcastles. Must be his sister.

Your fingers trailed across the mantel where a dusty photo album sat. Curiosity won.

You flipped it open—and boom: baby Seung-Hyun. Round cheeks. Big, thoughtful eyes. You laughed softly to yourself, flipping pages. He looked so different now—but somehow still the same.

You were deep in a photo labeled Hye-Yoon ♥—a girl in a beret and glittery eyeshadow—when a voice made you jump.

“What are you doing?”

You snapped the album shut like it had electrocuted you. Seung-Hyun stood there, damp hair, hoodie clinging to his shoulders, sweatpants hanging low. Glasses skewed.

Wow.

“I—uh—I was just…” You mumbled. “She’s pretty.”

You shut the album, embarrassed you got caught snooping. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

You stood, brushing imaginary dust off your thighs. “So… how was it?”

He looked down, ears pinking again. “Enlightening.”

You grinned. “Enlightening?”

He nodded quickly. “A lot to take in. But… not bad.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “We doing this again?”

“If… you’re still willing.”

“Oh, I’m willing.” You smirked. “Same time tomorrow.”

He smiled—small, but real.

As you grabbed your bag and headed to the door, you paused. “You might wanna hide the box before your family gets home.”

He snorted. “Definitely.”

You gave a playful wave and stepped outside, the cool air greeting your flushed cheeks.

Progress. That’s what this was. One awkward, curious, beautiful step at a time.

You were packing your bag to head over to Choi Seung-Hyun's house, half-distracted and fully frustrated while you searched for your phone. That damn thing had a habit of disappearing the second you looked away. Today had already been a whirlwind, and there was still tutoring ahead.

Seung-Hyun had been making amazing progress with the box, steadily approaching the spicy section. Every time he returned to the living room—fresh from a cold shower, hair slightly damp and eyes bright with curiosity—you had to remind yourself to breathe. He usually left you with some work when he went off to "study," but you always ended up giving up halfway through. It usually took him a short time to return, but this time... he was taking longer.

You wandered through the house, eventually finding yourself in the kitchen.

The fridge was plastered with magnets and papers, the kind of things families collect over years and forget to take down. Cheesy souvenirs from different countries. A report card here. A toddler's drawing there. Among them were Seung-Hyun's test papers—A's and A+'s from English everywhere. You couldn’t help but smile. Even in his senior year, his mom still pinned up his grades like she was proud of her little genius.

Your eyes danced over a grocery list scribbled in different handwritings:

Apples, yogurt, milk—elegant, cursive letters. Definitely his mom.

Peas, cheese, Captain Crunch—sloppy caps. Dad, maybe.

BBQ pizza, strawberries, Cheetos—neat, sharp handwriting that screamed Seung-Hyun.

A whiteboard hung crookedly beside it:

Seung-Hyun, clean your room. Grandpa's coming tomorrow – Dad

Dad, didn’t realize Grandpa was sleeping in my room – Seung-Hyun

Dear, your father is coming next week, not tomorrow – Mom <3

You laughed quietly, your smile lingering. It all felt so intimate, like you'd stepped into a world no one else got to see.

"Do you always snoop, or is it just my house?"

You spun around, startled. There he was—Seung-Hyun, leaning against the doorframe with a casual grin, his arms crossed.

"You scared me!" You gasped.

"Did you finish the work early?"

"Yes," you lied without hesitation. "And then I got bored."

He shrugged and sauntered to the table, dropping into a chair. "How did you find it?"

"Honestly? It was... good. I finished the other two books and the DVD set you gave me," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

It still surprised you—this tall, hot, brainiac guy studying erotica and still managing to remain untouched. As if.

You pulled up a chair across from him. "Can I ask you something?"

He gave a small nod.

"Why haven’t you... done anything yet?"

He winced a little. "I never really had close guy friends to talk about this stuff with. And my dad... wasn’t around much until a couple years ago."

"Military," you said without thinking. His eyes flashed with surprise.

"The pictures on the mantle," you clarified.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really do snoop."

You sat back and folded your arms, grinning.

"I just never had those 'locker room' talks, you know? And as I got older, I got busy. School. Life. Training. And it’s not like girls were lining up for me anyway." He looked away for a second. "I don’t like the unknown. I’d rather wait than screw something up."

You understood that too well. Not knowing was vulnerability. And vulnerability felt like weakness.

"How did you know you liked Se-mi?" you asked, your voice a little softer.

He smiled, leaning back. You’d never seen him this relaxed.

"Kindergarten. I had separation anxiety. Like, intense. I clung to my mom’s leg like a koala every day. Hated being away from her. Then this girl comes up—Se-mi—and holds out her hand. Said everything would be okay. That she’d keep me safe. And I believed her."

You grinned at the mental image. Tiny Seung-Hyun, sobbing into his mom’s jeans.

"And as we got older, she got smarter, kinder, prettier... I just kept liking her more. She’s always been around. Her mom works with mine, so I see her at the shop all the time. She was always perfect."

He looked down again, voice turning quiet.

"The day I asked her out, I had everything planned. A museum date. There’s this music section I know she’d love. Then this little café with amazing pastries. And a walk in the park after. It was stupid."

"It’s not stupid," you said. "It’s... kind of adorable."

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "What about you? What’s your perfect date?"

You thought for a moment. "A picnic."

His laugh was immediate. "A picnic? Really?"

"Don’t judge! Picnics are romantic. Tiny sandwiches, plastic champagne glasses, sunset views. What’s not to love?"

"And you say I overplan," he teased.

You gasped dramatically. "Shut up, nerd boy."

He grinned. "You ever been on one?"

You shook your head.

"And Jun-ho never took you? Isn’t he the ‘bad boy’ heartthrob?"

"We broke up," you said stiffly.

He looked unconvinced. "Right."

"What does it matter, anyway? Maybe someone will take me. Eventually."

"Maybe. And maybe you and I can double-date—with Se-mi. In a perfect world."

He didn’t respond right away. His smile faded as he stared down at his hands.

"What if she doesn’t like me? Like... what if she just made that excuse to let me down easy?"

Your heart tightened.

"Why would you think that?"

"No one likes me at school. I’m just the awkward guy people tolerate, you know?"

You stood slowly. Moved to him.

And without thinking, straddled his lap.

His breath hitched as you cupped his face and kissed him. Deeply. Hungrily. His hand found the small of your back and pulled you closer, the other weaving through your hair. He kissed you like he needed it—like it was the only thing anchoring him.

When he leaned in for more, you pulled back, still holding his face.

"Se-mi is going to like you."

"How do you know that?"

You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. "Because if I can kiss you like that—me of all people, someone who’s supposed to think you’re weird and repulsive—"

"Gee, thanks."

You squished his cheeks before he could protest again. "If I can kiss you of my own free will, then Se-mi will too. What you need, Seung-Hyun, is confidence. You’re not some loser. You’re kind. Sweet. Real. When you let people see that, girls will be lining up for you."

He looked down and chuckled softly.

"What?"

"That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me."

You grinned and pinched his cheek. "Don’t get used to it, nerd boy."

The next morning, you paused at the doorway of the English classroom, hoping to slip out unnoticed like the rest of your classmates. But of course, Mr. Kim had other plans.

"I wanted to talk to you for a second."

You hesitated but walked back in, approaching Mr. Kim’s desk as he gathered up worksheets.

"Yes?" you asked, forcing patience when all you wanted was to flee to your car.

"How's the tutoring going?"

Tutoring? Oh, right. Choi Seung-Hyun. You had to remind yourself that, technically, you were helping him study. It just didn’t feel like tutoring. Not when you were introducing him to a whole new world—one far more intimate than academics.

"Yeah, it's going great," you replied smoothly. If by "great" he meant educating Seung-Hyun in the world of pleasure, then yes, absolutely great.

"Perfect. Just a heads-up, there’s a test on Monday. Thought you might want to prepare."

You forced a polite smile. You hated tests. Everyone did.

"Sounds great."

"Expecting good things, Y/N," Mr. Kim beamed.

You nodded and left, your nerves flaring. You weren’t sure why, but him asking about tutoring made you anxious. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was the way you had started avoiding Seung-Hyun in public, scared he'd try to talk to you.

Did he think you were friends?

You weren’t.

You were business partners. You both needed something. You provided it for each other. Friends talk in public. Friends share memes and drinks. You didn’t do any of that with him.

Now, you were tapping your pencil against your arm, staring blankly at a wrong present-tense sentence that you had to correct. No clue how to write it. Maybe if you'd paid attention in class instead of daydreaming...

You glanced over at Seung-Hyun. He was engrossed in a book—an erotica novel, actually. One Jae-mi owned, you remembered. It was on her shelf the last time you were in her room. Did her parents know what she read? Definitely not. They thought she was an angel.

You caught the shift in Seung-Hyun's body. He stiffened, coughed to collect himself. He was clearly affected by what he was reading. Maybe you should have skimmed the books first. But then again, you'd probably have kept them.

His neck flushed red, jaw clenched. He wet his lips, ran a hand through his hair—hair that was always dry and frizzy. He'd stopped wearing his beanie around you, which made you think it had been a shield of some kind. Now he seemed more comfortable, even if his hair was a mess.

You bit your lip, watching him squirm in his chair, flipping pages with growing tension. He bit his knuckles. Yeah, he was definitely turned on. This probably happened a lot—reading, watching things, then cold showers to take the edge off.

He needed to know the kind of satisfaction he was missing.

"If I asked you to trust me, would you?" you asked suddenly.

He looked up, startled. His pupils were wide, his breath shallow.

"I... I-I guess."

"Good. Let's go upstairs."

"W-What?" he stammered, standing quickly.

"Upstairs," you repeated, walking ahead into the living room, then up the stairs. The upper floor had photos, wooden signs like the ones you'd see on American dramas: Home Is Where the Heart Is, You Call it Chaos; We Call it Family.

"Which one's your room?"

"You don't need to—"

"Which. Room."

He led you to the one on the right.

You stepped inside, surprised. His room was clean. Immaculate, even. Cream walls, dark wooden floors. Books organized. Bed made. A finished essay on the desk.

"Nice room," you whistled. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Erm... thanks. It's a little messy."

It wasn’t. Not at all. Aside from a hoodie and a cereal bowl by his PC, it was spotless. 

"W-What are we doing up here?" he asked nervously.

You turned and leaned against the desk. "We're going to fix something."

"F-Fix what? Nothing's broken—"

You stepped closer. Inches away. His erection was painfully obvious.

"Fix your hair and show me your brown eyes," you murmured.

"I-"

"Fix. Your. Hair.."

He swallowed and obeyed.

"Get on the bed. Sit facing the TV."

He moved slowly, confusion written all over his face.

"Where's the box?"

"I-In the closet."

You pulled it out and flipped through DVDs until you found what you wanted. Grinning, you popped it into the player and navigated to the right video.

"I don’t understand what’s happening," he admitted.

"You said you’re scared to jerk off," you said gently. "We’re going to try something. If you feel uncomfortable, tell me. But I need your full trust."

A pause.

"...Okay. I trust you."

You smiled, crawling onto the bed behind him. "Watch the video."

He nodded, breath catching as the screen lit up.

A man undressed a woman on a large bed, kissing down her body. His tongue slid over her slit. Roman gasped softly.

You leaned close. "Ever think about doing that? Stroking her clit, finger-fucking her while you taste her?"

He groaned, nodding.

"Look at her tits, Seung-Hyun. You ever want to suck them? Fuck them?"

Another nod. His cock strained beneath his jeans.

"Watch her cum."

The woman moaned loudly. The man hummed against her. You could feel your own arousal soaking through.

Then the woman was on her knees, pulling the man’s pants down. She deepthroated him, humming in satisfaction.

"Ever wonder what that feels like?" you asked.

"Yes," he groaned.

"Answer me."

"Yes."

You placed a hand on his thigh, slowly rubbing over the bulge. "You're so hard," you whispered. "Look at you, baby."

"Please, Y/N," he begged.

"Please what?"

He panted, eyes glued to the screen.

"Touch me."

You smiled, brushing your lips along his neck. You unzipped him, pulling down his jeans and boxers. His cock sprang free.

"Holy shit," you whispered.

"Is... is it okay?"

"You’re huge," you murmured.

Your hand wrapped around him, pumping slowly.

"Ah, shit!" he moaned.

"Eyes open," you said firmly.

He obeyed, watching the screen.

"You like that? My hand on your cock?"

"Yes... yes, Y/N."

"Good boy," you praised. "You’re such a good boy."

You rubbed your thumb over his slit, teasing him.

"Faster. Please."

"Show me. Wrap your hand around mine."

He did, pumping faster.

"Yeah... ah, fuck yeah."

Your clit throbbed with desire. You could picture him inside you.

"Cum for me, baby."

His cry echoed through the room. He released, seed spurting, breath ragged.

You handed him a tissue, wiping your hand. He cleaned himself, glasses fogged, chest heaving.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"How was that?" you asked with a light laugh.

"Amazing," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

The two of you burst into laughter."Welcome to the world of sex, Choi Seung-Hyun," you grinned. "It is pretty amazing."

Taglist: @petersasteria @redhoodedtoad @mirahyun @sherrayyyyy @sherxoo @dilfismz @breakmeoff @janie-osuih @forevervibezzzz1 @kuinnoa @juliskopf @maskedcrawford @szonyix6277@ldydeath

Series taglist: @1950schick @zaaraaax0 @tabibabib @sofiaaaah

[zenonsdreams]

MBJ x Black OC( Sariyah Renee)

40 Days N 40 Nights: In which Sariyah can't seem to leave her professor alone.

A/N: I am EXTREMELY rusty so some things may not be on point.

"I don't think i understand the issue here, it's clear that you love the man" Renee's therapist spoke. She was confused. For the past three weeks Renee would come to her office to complain about the same things, the same problems and the same man. it became more draining for her after each session.

"That's the problem, I'm committed to someone else, i can't love him" Renee stated with annoyance laced in her voice. She was starting to get tired of being stuck on him. Her professor. She was sick of him occupying her mind and distracting her from focusing on more important things, like work and her distant lover, Dimitri .

Someone who Renee didn't deserve.

Renee found interest in Dimitri after he would constantly like her stories on Instagram. He would reply to them with heart eyes and kissy faces.

Renee loved the attention he gave her.

So she gave him a chance.

Only to find out that he lived seventeen hours away from her. Renee was ready to trash the idea of a relationship with him immediately after she heard the information, but Dimitri stopped her and stated that things would work out, and for the most part it did. He would catch flights or take short road trips to be there for her as much as he could, so that he could satisfy her needs and desires.

After six months of being together, things started to go down hill for the couple. Since, Dimitri was dealing with school and work, his schedule became chaotic. He could no longer take back and forth trips to go see his lover.

Renee hated it.

She didn't understand why he couldn't find a way to maneuver around his chaotic schedule, in order to make time for her. What was she supposed to do? She was already struggling with not being able to see him on a daily basis, and on top of that she had to tolerate not having sex for weeks until he got here.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months

Renee was done.

She felt like she was going mad. She hadn't been touched in months and the only person that she wanted to touch her couldn't see her. Renee wanted to feel something, she needed to feel something. The late night phone calls filled with grunts and silent moans were not able to satisfy her any longer. She needed the real thing.

With Renee being touched starved and having the urge to feel full, she sought out for her professor.

Mr. Jordan

Renee could've gone for someone else, like one of her many classmates.

But she didn't think that they would give her the thrill and the excitement she craved.

In her eyes, her professor was the entire package. The man was tall, fit and had a voice that was smooth like velvet.

He was every girls fantasy.

For days Renee would show up to his class wearing clothes that were provocative but not revealing. She wanted to tease him.

Just a little bit.

But it didn't take long for him to catch on to what she was doing. He noticed that she would purposely drop things in front of him, so that she can bend over and pick it up with her ass on full display. He also noticed that the clothes she wore were tighter, especially around her breast. Everyday they looked as if they were going to burst out of her shirt.

After days of watching her, he finally got tired of her teasing.

He needed her. He wanted to feel her.

A/N: ngl this should not have taken as long as it did (pls don't beat my ass😭). I was procrastinating so badddddd and now i don't know if i want to contiue this or not i also feel like this may be missing a little something?.

But i have so many other fics in the drafts trustttttt.

they're mainly Modern au stack and smoke so i might drop those.

[sirxlla]

Naughty List 🎄

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

Warnings: Spicy, Unprotected, Female Reader, It's fairly long.

Prompt: Buying him a special Christmas gift.

Notes: italics are actions and thoughts, i'm a new writer, so i'm trying to do what might be good layout? pls Imk what you think of the story or anything really in the comments, i'd really appreciate it

- Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas and with all that said it's all under the cut and -

Things have been quite rough recently with the holidays fast approaching and his ex Tommy trying to come back in his life even though he was happily in a relationship with you. The holidays were horrible for any sort of first responder, if you asked any of them they would tell you the busiest nights of the year are Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas followed by maybe the 4th of July in there. Due to all of that happening of course he was stressed out. As of recent he'd been very distant just due to how stressed out and what little energy he had.

You didn't know if this was a good idea or even if he would be up for it considering it because of how things have been lately. Not that either of you have any issue with one or another but due to the lack of time and energy he's been having. Regardless of that you had happened to stumble upon a skimpy little Santa dress while Christmas shopping online, a smile filled your face as you thought that maybe it was just a bit cliché but maybe stupid enough to get him to smile. Even if nothing else a smile would let you know it helped his stress even just a slivver, now if something did happen? That might make a world of difference to the tension in his shoulders and the stress that seemed to linger in the slight darkness around his eyes. So you ordered it along with the other gifts you had picked out for him and a few other people.

A few days past and you forget about it entirely. Things have been busy so you completely forgot to check when it was going to get to yours and Buck's shared apartment. Of course you and Evan had promised not to open each other's packages because of the fact that they could be Christmas presents for eachother so he brought the packages in when he got home from work and set them down on the kitchen island. He was shortly followed by you coming in about thirty minutes later with groceries. You look down at the table as you brought in the groceries in that were slowly cutting off your circulation to your fingers and remember exactly what you bought. The smile fills your face again prompting you to put groceries up as quickly as you can. You hear him holler that he's getting in the shower and shout back a word of acknowledgment.

Tearing open the white baggie with the Amazon logo across it that you were sure contained the little Santa dress, you find exactly what you ordered a skimpy little Santa dress that came with some cute little stockings as well as a Santa hat. Surprisingly it was a pretty good deal and the quality feels fairly nice and soft. So of course you slip into it while he's preoccupied, zipping it in the front where the zip was. Although it was odd that the zip was in front it didnt look bad at all and it fit surprisingly and exceedingly well.

The other gifts you set aside in their boxes so that you can wrap them at some other point right now that wasn't the priority in your mind. As soon as you heard that shower turn off your smile got bigger because this was either going to make him laugh, make him want to let him stress out in an entirely different way or he wasnt in the mood and would be annoyed. You knew that the last one that filled your mind would most likely be unlikely because even if he was feeling like shit he was always a kind, optimistic and easygoing person.

'Of course that is unless he's not thinking about curses.' You smiled as you thought to yourself about a few Halloween's ago when you were just friends and he was convinced he was cursed. You weren't certain about the idea of curses and such but so much had happened that Halloween for it to be even remotely coincidental.

The sound of him getting out of the shower breaks you from your thoughts. Once he leaves the shower and enters the bedroom you can see him with his back turned to you, the towel tied around his waist as he rummages through it to get boxers out of his dresser.

A sly and mischievous smile feels your lips as you put your arm against the doorway and slightly lean against it.

"Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho, Ho. I was making my list and checking it twice when I found-" You burst into giggles as soon as you see the smile graces his face as he turned his head to face you. You had never done this perfectly before, something about role-play sometimes just made you burst into laughter when you tried to be serious. You wete never making fun of anyone who did this more often when you laughed about it. You just relished in the fun of it and the thought of being able to play with Buck like this due to his accepting and kind nature.

"No, no. Continue." Evan stiffled a laugh and tried to hide a smile so bright and happy which made your confidence brighten a bit. God that smile meant the world and could make you feel like you were standing on air or it could bring you to your knees like a puddle.

"Well I was making a list and checking it twice when I found you had been put on the Naughty List. Have you been doing something that I'm on aware of Mr. Buckley?" You had taken a breath to stiffle your laugh before you started talking. The tone of your voice trying to be entirely serious and get into the role of 'Santa' a bit.

"I have been quite good this year, Santa..." his smile widened as he sauntered closer to you. Evan's hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, the soft almost velvety red fabric beneath his fingers. His smile widens as if it was even possible to get any wider as he starts gently massaging your hips before he brings his mouth down to your ear, his lips brushing against your skin.

"...but you know, my girlfriend...she definitely peer pressures me into a few naughty things here and there, Santa. I'm for sure she's on the naughty list but please, oh, please, for me, Santa put us both on the nice list. I'll do anything." He teasingly begs with a joking tone into your ear with a clear sound of lust and dominance gracing his tone.

Due to how tired he'd been it had been a bit since you had seen his dominant side but it was definitely here now, clear as day in his eyes as he is pushes you onto the bed before finding his way betwen your thighs using his right forearm to the side of your head to hold himself up above you. The last thing he'd ever want to do is squish you beneath him.

"Anything..." He whispers against your lips, a smile gracing both of your faces as he gently and languidly kisses you deeply. Your hands gently caressing his face and the slight stubble left there. He shaves in the mornings before work so it was quite common for him to have it most nights but you had never minded one bit.

"Dear Santa, think you could use a little naughty in your life..." Buck teased with a joking tone as he pushes his knee between your thighs and slightly into your core earning a moan that slipped so easily from your lips to between his, it had been a while so your body was already ready and excited for whatever his little mind concocted.

"See? What did I say?" He smirks at the sweet noise that escaped your lips. The towel around his waist very clearly slipping off his hip as he his brought his lips to the exposed cleavage the little Santa dress left uncovered. He slowly pulled at the zipper at the front of the dress exposing your breasts a bit more before attaching his lips gently around your nipple slowly rolling it around with his tongue. His knee slightly grinded into your core with a slow pace. Your hands found themselves in his wet hair gently massaging.

You could tell his was still tired and you didnt expect him to ravage you like a caveman and besides this gentle dominance was more intimate and close in your opinion than any hot rough sex you had ever had with anyone. Tender loving took more patience and care and Evan just loved taking care of you as you did him; Passionate and slow sex never failed to leave the both of you satisfied. You feel him start to move lower with his kisses as he slowly unzips the front of the dress working his way down and by the time he's nipped and kissed his way down to your panties you stop him.

"Ev, Baby...I want you, not your mouth." You said as you gently and kindly guided his mouth back up to yours and slowly removed the towel from his waist with one hand, letting it fall off the bed before wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was languid and soft as Buck held himself above you, still laying between your thighs. His free hand rubbing gently at your nipple, squeezing and massaging your breast earning a few more instinctual noises from you.

"I love you." You whispered, of course it felt random but you always felt the need to reassure him whenever you felt like saying it; you knew the stupid rule most people apparentally had said that you shouldn't say 'I love you' during sex or some shit but as stated before it was stupid. You never said I love you if you didnt mean to anyone let alone Evan. Buck wasn't just his body and you could understand the difference between love and lust. He regains your attention from your thoughts very quickly when he reaches down to rub your clit gently with his thumb though your panties earning a soft mew from your lips. Buck's smile just lights up at the sound.

"Jesus, Baby. You're so worked up, if I'd known you were so needy Id've-"

"Shhhh....Dont." You whisper gently cutting him off before kissing him. The last thing you needed was him blaming himself for you being a bit pent up.

You reached down finding him, gently stroking him, your thumb slightly brushing the tip of him earning the sweetest sounds from him. You reached down to yourself and moved your panties to the side before you slowly guided his body into yours. His eyes gazed into yours and yours back into his. The pace was slow and initmate, your arms wrapped around his torso as his hips deeply and languidly rocked into you. Your eyes not leaving his but for a few seconds on occasion to look down between the two of you as the both of you moan and whimpered in pure bliss of one another. His hair still wet as your hands worked their way through the strands gently in massaging his scalp.

With the way everything was stress-wise and as long as it had been, it was clear to both of you that you both would finish quicker than you would like on a night like this. Usually, the both of you on intimate nights could go for what felt like hours but it was clear both of you wouldnt be making it that long as his hips rocked into you with purpose and depth. Of course neither of you were upset about it, always just content to be with one another.

"I'm close, Baby. You want me to-"

"It's fine, I wanna feel you." You whisper against his lips as you cradled his head not wanting him to leave your body before he finishes this time. He continues the leisurely but deep pace of his him inside you as he feels your walls tighten around him.

"I'm-" You start but you're cut off by the sound of his voice.

"I know." He says gently with a smirk against your chest, that was one thing about Buck is somehow he could always tell exactly what to do with your body and exactly how it was going to react. It was refreshing the way he cared about you and the way he would always take care of you before even beginning to think about finishing himself. That band in your abdomen that had been building slowly snaps as a wave of white washes over you, your back upward so your chest is pressed to his. Evan moves his mouth back up to yours to capture the sound that was escaping your lips before groaning into your mouth with full satisfaction and pride.

After a few moments of silent slight panting as the both of you came down, you whisper to him "Merry Christmas, Baby." You smiled as you massaged his scalp, his body on you like a weighted blanket as you gently massaged drying hair.

"Am I on the Nice list now, Santa?" He smirks as he jokes.

"Well Naughty boys dont get presents and I'm sure you've earned at least a few." Smiling as you hold his face gently tracing that little bit of stubble again.

Masterlist

[sutorus]

BUY ONE GET ONE FREE

DESCRIPTION: gojo satoru and geto suguru are the jewels of your university. glued at the hip, you have your eyes set on one of the best friends, but you should already know to expect double the trouble with this packaged deal.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: 3.8k

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, some derogatory terms like s!ut :c), university!au, frat!au, characters are in their 20s, oral (fem receiving), gojo is a douche (sorry!) with a soft spot for you, gojo and geto are both taller than reader, gojo wants you sooo bad you don’t even know, dubcon if you squint, annoyances to… something else!, implied 3sum but that’s for part 2 ig bc i got tired. enjoy!

A/N: first fic here yayyyy pls support (kiss kiss

they were those boys in your campus. every university had them, or so you’re told. the ones to be proud of, but also weary of. the ones who could show you a good time you’d probably regret the next morning. the ones you’d tell stories about and never really forget.

at your school, that was geto suguru and gojo satoru. you heard they knew each other since high school, best friends back then and best friends now. they were part of the most infamous party house, the most awarded college teams, the most scandalous groupchats, the most torrid bathroom stalls conversations. everybody knew them, every guy wanted to be them, every girl wanted to be with them. you know the drill.

and although this was only your second year, you’d had enough run-ins with them to know exactly what they wanted — and what you wanted, too.

the two were truly inseparable despite not being all that similar, just like brothers. considering the stories you’ve heard, that proximity would be almost weird if they weren’t so hot. but that’s a can of worms you don’t want to open and, most importantly, don’t need to open in order to sit on geto suguru’s dick.

because of course it’s geto. 

sure, gojo is hot — in a really fucking annoying way. in a way that makes you want to slap that stupid grin off his face every time he ogles you and your friends at a party. you’d go for it, really, if you didn’t have to live to see the next day. you knew gojo would never let you act like it never happened, and not in a romantic way, but in a disgusting braggy way. 

gojo satoru is hot as fuck but you’re not built to handle him, if you’re being honest. not innocent enough, not devoted enough, not googly-eyed and pink-glossy-lips-drooly enough. gojo satoru was complicated like that. he came with a warning label as big as a cvs receipt in which big bold red letters warned DO NOT TRUST. and you knew better, anyway. 

but geto? geto was pretty much perfect. his looks were sweet, dark and kind of edgy, like a black kitty with really sharp teeth. he had really cute fuck me eyes and really big veiny hands and a really cool manbun and you wanted to sit your ass on his fat sick. it was simple math. 

the only thing that preoccupied you, though, was his reputation. and not his manwhore reputation or his party animal reputation or his fucks-hard-and-doesn’t-cuddle-after reputation — no, who cares about that. what worried you was his reputation with his best friend gojo satoru. 

ever since you enrolled at your university you’ve been hearing rumors. apparently, the two of them were so close that they shared everything. everything. 

would never let a brother go hungry and all. 

so yes, there was the slight possibility (only corroborated by, i don’t know, the hundreds of girls you’ve heard the same story from) that geto would want a threeway. 

you, having sex with gojo satoru? you can’t say you’ve never thought about it. you did have that one class together, your freshman year. in retrospect, the fact that he was your senior and taking the same elective as you should’ve been enough of a red flag. 

by the end of the first lesson he came up to you and told you to text him if you ever needed any materials for the class, almost sounding sincere before shrugging and saying, “i’m just on top of things. by the way, would you like to be one of them?”

and scene. 

that was your first impression of gojo satoru. 

if you two fucked a year after that initial offer of his, would it be comical or tragic? he’d never look at you the same way — that is, he’d stop looking at you like he can see your tits through your shirt with x-ray vision and start looking at you like he has seen your tits because he will have. and that sounds annoying. 

but whatever. you’ve heard the stories of how gojo fucks, after all. it’s not like it would be a bad time. 

and tonight seems like the perfect night to make a stupid decision like that because geto looks so fucking delicious in a hawaiian shirt (how is that even possible?) leaning against his yucky frat’s wall and sipping a beer. 

god, you want to bite him. is that weird?

“is that weird?” you turn to shoko, who so kindly accompanied you to another house party with the promise of free, gojo-sponsored liquor. “i want to bite geto.”

shoko looks disgusted, all too acquainted with your ramblings about the guy. her eyes scan around the room before settling towards the kitchen. “i’ll leave you to it, then, and go get a drink. do not abandon me until i’m drunk enough to be by myself in this shithole.”

you nod to her before she’s off to get her fix. and you’re gearing up to get yours, adjusting your skirt and correcting your posture until a too familiar, grating voice yells out from behind you:

“yo!” 

you sigh, rolling your eyes before turning around. 

“gojo.”

he throws one of his long arms over your shoulders, pressing your sides together. your fingers absentmindedly go back to your skirt, pulling it down. 

gojo has to lean down to talk to you, his face hovering over yours. you can feel how hot his torso is against you, his white shirt already completely unbuttoned. it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“long time no see, cutie,” gojo’s breath is warm against your ear, his voice high to be heard over the music. he gestures with his solo cup, “how are you finding the facility?”

you look up and give him a tight smile. “gross as always! is there something you want, or…”

he laughs heartily, and you feel his whole body rattle against yours. you huff in annoyance, antsy to get a word in with geto before he’s occupied. 

“so mean to me!” he looks down at you and if it weren’t for his sunglasses, that he wears indoors at nighttime like a dick, you’d be able to see his eyes looking right down your cleavage. “just when i was coming here to do you a favor.”

you can’t help but laugh at that. 

“what in the world could you possibly do for me?” he lifts an eyebrow and your finger flies up in between your faces. “don’t answer that, actually.”

“i came here to tell you a very interesting secret,” he sing songs right into the shell of your ear, earning another shiver from you. you take the cup from his hand and sip, too distracted to know what it tastes like. nibbling on the plastic rim, you gesture for him to go on. 

gojo’s smile grows that much darker, that much more sinister, a dimple appearing on the side of his cheek. 

“a little birdie told me suguru’s dying to screw you tonight.”

your demeanor must visibly brighten at that information because gojo lets out another lurching laugh. your eyes instinctively zero in on geto, across from you, who’s either doing a really good job of pretending he doesn’t hear the two you talking in the doorway or is genuinely clueless as to what his best friend is saying about him. 

you force yourself to regain your composure, shoving gojo’s solo cup into his bare chest and wiggling out of his hold. “and you care because?”

but you suspect you already know the answer to that. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, and god, your height difference is kind of reeling. 

“like i said, ‘s just a favor,” you eye him suspiciously. he continues, “he wants to fuck you, you want to fuck him. i’m just being a nice guy.”

right. nice guy. 

“and who says i want to fuck him?” you try to play it cool, even though you probably know as much as satoru knows as much as suguru knows that you’d crawl on your knees towards geto right now if that meant you could put his cock in your mouth. 

and who could blame you? 

“playing dumb?” gojo pokes your cheek. his voice grows thicker, “cute. look at you,” and he does, hungrily, eyes scanning your entire form and making you feel oddly self conscious. 

he snakes a hand around your waist and leans in close again, whispering into your ear, “all dolled up just for him. in class with me you show up in other dudes’ hoodies but for darling suguru you dress slutty. everyone knows.”

you inhale sharply. what is he playing at? is he trying to get into your head or what? people dress up at parties, people want to fuck people, it’s a thing. god, gojo is so unbearable. 

you scowl up at him. 

“first of all,” you rip his hand from your waist and he lets it fall limply by his side. “second of all, again, how is that any of your business? salty you can’t get laid without the hotter best friend’s help?”

gojo just smirks, huffing out a chuckle through his nostrils. “you don’t have to worry about me, sweetheart. although i have to say, i do worry about you…”

“what? why?” you can’t help sounding sincere at his words. he twirls a piece of your hair with his index finger. 

“‘m just saying, what kind of best friend would i be if i handed you off to suguru without taking you for a test drive first?” gojo’s disgusting, he’s audacious and cocky and it’s doing something to you. you find yourself uncharacteristically quiet as he continues, “i mean, for all i know, you just might break once he gets inside.” 

“you’re ridiculous,” you manage to utter, feeling too small and too warm. geto is no longer in your line of sight and neither is shoko and you rapidly start to feel like you’ve fallen into the lion’s den without realizing. 

“you know i’m right,” and you don’t, really, you don’t think he’s right at all but why do you want to prove him wrong so badly? “c’mon, baby, lemme break ya in a little.”

that seems to snap you out of it. “ew. you’re disgusting, where is—“

“ugh, i love it when you degrade me,” he groans sardonically, hand leaving your waist and grabbing your hand instead. “come on. i’ll take you to him.”

whatever that feeling was just then, you shake it off and relunctantly let gojo guide you through the sea of bodies in his living room, the two of you earning some whistles from his friends. eyes too busy scanning for geto, you’re surprised when you suddenly end up in front of the bathroom. 

“quick pit stop!” gojo tries. you roll your eyes. 

“you won’t even try to take me to your bed? like, you live here,” you say. 

gojo is grinning. “nah, nah. room’s for the main attraction,” he winks and turns the doorknob, letting you go inside first. what a gentleman. “this shouldn’t take long.”

the bathroom door muffles the loud music outside, leaving your ears ringing in the silence. gojo looks like a douchebag, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, shirt unbuttoned and wet with some sort of liquor, and your eyes do not dare scan any lower than that. 

you suppose he is a douchebag.

but he sounds so painfully sincere when he whines low in his throat, “wanna kiss you so bad.” 

you laugh at his face, pushing yourself up to sit on the counter. 

“i’m serious,” he says, taking a step forward. you instinctively open your legs a little to make more room. 

“you want to what, ‘break me in’, you said?”

gojo laughs and that doesn’t sound sincere at all. he takes another step towards you, slotting his hips in between your thighs. 

“suguru’ll like it sloppy,” and that’s all the explanation he gives you before he’s closing the distance between you two, crashing your lips together. 

you should be feeling ill at his words. you should be pushing him away. if you had any self respect, you would. 

but his hands on you feel so good, he’s kissing you like, yeah, he wanted to so bad. his grip on your hips is almost bruising, pulling your body closer to his so he can grind against you. 

you moan into his mouth and he’s quick to return it, tongue pushing up against yours hungrily. you feel like you’re being devoured, the kiss all encompassing, but it’s not bad, it feels so so good and gojo is so good and—

he breaks your kiss to command, “wrap your legs around me,” and you do so immediately. 

his hands push your skirt up, grabbing your ass and pulling you that much closer to him. you tug on his hair, grinding down hard against him, and he lets out the sweetest, most pitiful moan that sends your head reeling. 

“gojo…” you say his name but you don’t know what for, don’t know what you want or what to ask or what to say, all you know is yes and good and more. “satoru—“

gojo whines and presses his lips to yours desperately, grinding his hard on against your clothed pussy. he’s big, you can feel him all over your cunt, and you suddenly need all these layers between you gone. 

“fuck, let me see,” he swallows hard, pushing your shirt up fully. “lemme see those tits baby, that’s it—”

you puff your chest out when gojo pulls your bra down. you expect him to go for your boobs but instead he goes back in for a kiss, panting into your mouth. 

god, it’s too much. for how collected he acts one hundred percent of the time, seeing gojo satoru disheveled is a power trip. 

“touch me,” you mumble against his lips. 

he gives you a few pecks, nibbling your bottom lip before pulling away. 

“fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” gojo says, one hand grabbing your tit and another pulling your panties to the side. the cool air on your dripping core makes you shudder, and you feel yourself gush at the slightest brush of his fingers against you. 

he bends down to pop a nipple into his mouth and you arch your back, gripping his hair hard, ‘cause apparently he likes that. you both let out a unison moan as he sucks, saliva audibly swishing inside his mouth. 

you know it’s gonna leave a mark, he’s gonna leave a lot of bruises as he bites and sucks and keeps you distracted while he slips a finger into your wet core. 

you suddenly regain conscience and remember the man working your body with nothing more than his hands and mouth probably has a pretty painful big hard cock inside his pants, so you reach out to help him. 

“wait,” he says, mouth popping against your breast, “wait, you can suck it, i just wanna—i gotta do this first, lemme—“

that’s all he says before giving you another kiss and dropping to his knees. 

you’re obviously not going to complain, you can neglect his dick just fine, nevermind the fact that you want it inside you immediately. but in the meantime, gojo’s got two fingers pumping in and out of you and he’s about to put his face between your legs. 

it’s beautiful, it’s a lot, you want it so fucking bad and it shows. 

“so fucking wet, all f’me” he lays his tongue flat against your clit and licks a fat stripe up your pussy, making you groan in anticipation for what’s to come. “been thinking of this pretty pussy for so long.”

“yeah?,” you whine, brushing some hair away from his face before coaxing his head closer to where you want it. gojo moans in response and starts working his tongue in tight circles over your clit. 

fuck, is gojo satoru in a frat bathroom the best head you’ve ever had? he might be, with the way he expertly rubs his fingers against your walls, instantly finding that spongy patch that makes you jut your hips out. 

“fuck, right there,” you grind against his face, delighting yourself in the debauched moans he makes against your cunt. not only does it feel good, it looks so fucking hot and you can’t tear your eyes away. “stay right there, you’re so good.”

the way he eats it like he needs to, like it’ll save your life, like this alone is enough to make the both of you cum, you can’t help the too-honest praise tumbling from your lips. 

“yeah? tastes so fucking good” he mumbles, rubbing a thumb over your clit. you nod, bottom lip held tightly between your teeth. “play with your tits, baby, those juicy fucking tits, do it for me.”

you obey, head hanging back in pleasure. you keep one hand anchored firmly in his hair, your fingers gripping so hard they start to tingle. 

you shove his face closer, earning a deep groan from him. he noses at your pussy, replacing his fingers in your entrance with his tongue, fucking in and out of you. your breathing has lost all rhythm, your chest feels tight and on fire and a bead of sweat rolls down your back. 

you can faintly make out gojo asking do you like this? just like this baby? and all you can say in response is a string of “yeahs” and breathy little moans. they almost sound surprised, and they might be, because every twist of his tongue and every brush of his fingers knocks the breath right out your lungs. 

it’s so much pleasure that it doesn’t make sense. you think, suddenly, this is why people do drugs, this is why people develop addictions because you have no fucking clue how you’re supposed to live without gojo satoru between your legs from now on. 

“satoru. i wanna cum,” you whine, mind to mouth filter completely obliterated because all you want to do is fucking cum for gojo satoru. message relayed. 

“fuck yeah, baby, you wanna cum? i’m gonna make you cum?” he’d sound pathetic if you didn’t know how much of a whore he was. his fingers go back inside you and speed up ever so slightly, his lips wrapping around your clit. gojo’s tongue works you over and over and over and all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the sound of gojo swallowing every few seconds. 

he doesn’t stop, mumbles his dirty talk right into your pussy, like fucking cum for me baby cum all over my face yeah do it i’m gonna make you cum so hard god you look so fucking sexy wanna fuck you so bad, and you don’t want to know why but it makes you all the more intent in coming the hardest you ever have. 

you grip gojo’s hair and grind into his face mercilessly, revelling in the gurgling sounds coming from between your legs. 

“ohhh fuck, fuck, satoru i’m so close, just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“ gojo groans, using his free hand to play with your nipple. 

it’s too much, it’s too good, the coil in your belly that’s been building up since you started entertaining the idea of maybe getting laid tonight finally snapping. 

you’re sure you’ve never been this loud as you cum, hard, you can feel it gushing out of you and right into gojo’s awaiting mouth. with ringing ears and trembling legs, you find purchase in his hair as you keep cumming for him. 

the muscles on your thighs seize up as you ride out your orgasm against gojo’s face, your feet trying to find any sort of balance or solid ground. but you wiggle desperately in his hold, the man below you fulfilling his promise of drinking every last drop of you until the two of you are satisfied. 

you’re catching your breath when gojo finally pulls away from you, his face and neck flushed as you’re sure yours are. your back falls against the foggy bathroom mirror, chest rising and falling dramatically as you catch your breath. 

he finally stands up, sneaking a very obvious hand down his pants to readjust his erection. once he catches your gaze, he smirks at you. 

you try to roll your eyes, you really do, but what comes out is a slow, languid blink. you’re completely fucked out and he loves it, leans in to kiss you so fucking deep you taste yourself all over his mouth.  

before you can do anything else, anything more or less than kiss him back, you hear three knocks on the door. 

they’re gentle, nothing like the sound of a pissed off college student, murderous because you’re hogging the bathroom. 

gojo pushes himself away from you, grinning. “right on time.”

he grabs both your tits in his hands and plants a wet kiss on one, then the other, before pulling your shirt back down. 

you’re still dumbfounded, your overworked body slumped against the bathroom counter. 

before you have time to react, gojo’s opening the door to let geto suguru in. 

your body jolts, legs closing shut in what’s almost abject horror. you nearly forgot he’s what you came to this party for. 

it feels like you got caught red handed, and it must show on your face because geto shakes his head and laughs that pretty, sexy laugh, waving a hand around to tell you it’s okay. 

“please, don’t stop on my account,” are his first words to you tonight. 

you would say something if you weren’t sure your voice would fail you. but like usual, gojo satoru can’t stay quiet for too long.

“all done. she’s too easy” he announces cheerily, but the funny thing is, he doesn’t leave. instead, geto lets the bathroom door close behind him as he crowds in. 

you realize this space is far too small for two very tall men, most definitely far too small for whatever is about to go down between the three of you, and your calming heart starts to race again. 

“hey, pretty,” geto reaches out and wipes the side of your lip. “having fun?”

you can only nod, looking at gojo satoru of all people for answers.

he looks at you like he hasn’t just eaten your pussy with the intensity of a starving man, like he wants to do it again, right now. 

geto is sporting a similar look of hunger, looking between you and gojo and quickly assessing the situation that just happened here. 

this is weird. this is so fucking weird and so stupidly hot. 

“wanna take her for a ride next?” gojo asks geto like he’s not talking about a person, like you don’t have a say in it, like you belong to the both of them to play with, and it turns your brain to mush. 

geto smiles, handsome and dangerous. 

“what do you say, honey?” this time he addresses you. you swallow hard, looking between the two men in front of you. gojo grabs the outline of his hard cock through his pants, a reminder that whatever this is, it isn’t over just yet. “down to have double the fun?”

[777heavengirl]

the one with the post mortem

sirius black x reader ! - 1,244 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: i cant tell if i like this or not but its the only thing I've been able to put out in days and its... yea no comment. also pls refer to this post about my update schedule and what I'm dealing w rn!

“You’re a bloody idiot Padfoot” James paced back and forth, hands on his hips as he scolded Sirius. “I just don't understand what you were thinking- they could’ve killed you”

“It's just a bruise Prongs can we relax here?” Sirius sighed as he held the frozen pea package to his face, he could already feel the tender skin around his eye bruising. The splitting headache he was now suffering from made him cringe as James's voice boomed around the living room.

“I think what James means to say is that-” You said as you walked back from their kitchen with tea in your hands, seamlessly passing the hot mug from your hands into his as you sat next to him on the Potter’s couch. “We are thankful it didn’t go past some shouting and a punch- Right James”

“Fuck no-”

“Come on-”

“No! It’s just-” James rubbed his temple, a frown etched deep within his features “Don’t put yourself back on their radar Sirius, I don't understand why you would want to go in the first place! You hated the woman!”

“We just don’t think it was the smartest idea to waltz into the funeral honey-” Lily said while rubbing circles mindlessly over her pregnant belly, her baby blue peplum top barely hiding the bottom slivers of her belly as she leaned back in her plush chair.

You stared at her round belly, a fleeting giddiness passing through you at the thought of the baby arriving soon. You had been scared you'd send her into labor when you knocked, dragging a bruised Sirius in, but she remained the calmest you had ever seen her, merely sighing as the two of you tumbled inside. Like it was just any other day. You guessed having James Potter as her husband meant he often brought home some excitement, to say the least.

“And then you also had the bloody brilliant idea of bringing y/n with you-”

“James-”

“No,” He shook his head, brown eyes staring straight into yours. “He shouldn’t have brought you! For Godric’s sake, they know you’re a muggle-born y/n! Merlin knows what they could’ve done-” 

“I convinced him to let me go with him, James! I wasn’t going to let him go alone-” James continued to lecture you, you did your best to concentrate on his words. But all you could focus on was Sirius's blank stare towards the floor.

You knew James's lecture came from a place of love and care. James was so much like his mother, you could almost see her. The way he argued with his hands on his hips, a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. Nothing but care and love, and worry seeped into his words. You knew he meant well, you knew he just did not understand why Sirius couldn’t just leave it alone. It frustrated James, it always had. They were brothers, no one could deny that. But a piece of Sirius, small and deep within him, hidden from the world, would always belong to the most honorable House of Black.

And it not only tore Sirius apart but James too. 

As much as Sirius was a part of his family, as much as he called Euphemia mum and Fleamont dad, as much as they were brothers in every way but blood. As much as they had built many memories together, happy Christmases, and bountiful birthdays, with many more to come. Endless days together, growing old together, like brothers, like family. Hell, Sirius was in the Potter’s family portrait. But even through all of this, they could never erase Sirius’s past. It would always be there, like an ugly inky stain on an otherwise pristine white shirt.

But you understood. Somehow. You knew what it felt like, the need to go crawling back to the parent that makes you feel worthless, hoping and praying it'll be different each time. 

Sirius craved to be seen by his mother just as much as you did your father.

You guessed that was why you didn’t fight him on going, why you decided to go with him. 

“He’s right,” the room went quiet as you all turned to look at Sirius, his eyes were now closed, one covered by the frozen bag. He felt exhausted, like his arms and legs were made of lead, his heart felt heavy with guilt and grief. “I shouldn’t have agreed to let you come, hell- I shouldn’t have gone in the first place but that’s my bullshit to deal with, not yours, love” 

You scoffed, “Since when do we deal with bullshit alone-”

“Since you decided that we needed to lead separate lives y/n” He snapped now, dropping the bag on his lap as he turned to look at you. 

“Oh grow up Sirius” You turned away now, away from how his features twisted in frustration and regret. You did your best to keep your face flat and monotone, afraid to let even a single sliver of emotion slip through. You hadn’t talked about it, yet. Avoiding the theme altogether for the last couple of days since he came home. But the tension was there, palpable and thick. It permeated every conversation and every interaction. It made everything feel heavy, the way that rain would drench and turn your clothes heavy. 

You couldn’t take the silence anymore, with a sigh you got up, pulling down the edge of your black dress. Lily and James merely stared, wide-eyed and shocked at the outburst from the both of you. 

“I’ll see you two later-” Your words had barely rang out as you apparated away, the faintest crack of the air following you. 

Sirius groaned, dropping his face into his hands. 

“So no, you haven’t fixed it yet-”

“It’s not that easy Prongs,” Sirius melted into the couch, fingers tracing patterns into the corduroy. 

“Why?” Lily stared at Sirius, a glint in her eye that was no stranger to Sirius. He narrowed his eyes at the red-head. “Why isn’t it easy Sirius? She loves you an obscene amount- watching the two of you is gross”

“What are you talking about Lilykins?” Sirius played with the edges of the soggy bag of peas, a childish pout on his lips.

“Lils is right, the two of you are worse than we are and we are married pads,” James sat on the arm of Lily’s armchair. Sirius scoffed-

“Come off it- no one’s worse than you two” They both rolled their eyes, a small smile on their lips they tried to repress. 

“I’m not wrong though- the two of you are disgustingly cute- always fawning over each other, whispering things to the other- you know you should really confess Sirius, tell her how you feel-” Sirius sat up, eyes wide,

“Tell her how I feel? Is pregnancy melting your brain Evans?”

“Oi! It’s Potter now, thank you very much-” James feigned hurt but Lily burst into laughter,

“God- the two of you are meant for each other,” James and Sirius stared dumbly at Lily, uncontrollable laughter shaking her body, she slapped James’s thigh excitedly “You really do- I can’t believe, Merlin-” She continued to laugh, starting to wipe tears from the corner of her eyes as she let out full spurts of laughter. “I can’t believe the two of you said the same thing-”

But as fast as she started she suddenly stopped with a small, oh, green eyes wide-

“W-what is it-” James stood, staring at his wife “Is everything okay?”

“I either just peed myself" Lily grabbed onto James's forearm to attempt to stand up from her recliner chair "or my water broke— currently leaning towards the latter” 

“Oh fuck-”

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine

let me know if you wanna be added ! or if i missed you

[spitgobbler]

I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.

[squinch-depraved]

pls pls pls pls pls schlatt with single mum reader

so. i'm in love with this idea and if this does well enough i might turn it into a series but for now here's how you meet plsss let me know if you guys want more of this omg

he met you doing interviews for a video on the street

normally this was the worst part of the job, only redeemed by the fact that he got to see women like you walk by every now and then

he didn't plan on stopping you, you had a kid with you so of course he understood that you didn't want to be bothered, let alone filmed

but you literally waltzed up to the microphone and just started bantering with him??

schlatt was so caught off guard he could barely keep up with your witty remarks as you debated the best toppings for a hot dog

no matter what he said, you retorted something better

until you turned to your daughter and asked her what she thought

and he lowered the mic down to her only for her to whisper,

"chechup."

schlatt broke out into a grin and turned to the camera, repeating the word and wrapping up the shot

he was so glad you stuck around until he could talk to you again, hoping you found him at least half as attractive as he found you

but you just wanted to know where you could find the footage once it was done

"lemme do you one better, i'll send you the unedited stuff of you, too! can i get your email?"

you rolled your eyes, smiling slightly and taking his phone from him to type your contact information

his eyes light up when he scans the screen once you hand it back; you left him your number as well!

"just blur daphne's face and shoot me a text before the video goes up. nice to meet you...?"

"uh. schlatt! it's schlatt," he replied, sliding his phone into his pocket and reaching to return your handshake

"y/n. thanks for letting us talk to you, daphy wanted to be on camera really bad. she wants to be a movie star one day, right daph?"

"yeah..." the girl whispered again, a bit louder than before

"but also a singer and a dancer." she spoke at a normal volume this time

"wow, that's ambitious. what kind of movies are you gonna make?"

you opened your mouth to answer swiftly and then leave, but daphne started babbling

"mama always tells me i should make funny movies because i'm funnier than i could ever know, but i really wanna make scary movies, because, guess what? i can scream really loud, listen-"

you clamped a hand over her mouth just in time, and schlatt laughed

"i am- i'm so sorry, she literally never talks to people, we're working on it, daphne you cannot just scream like that!!"

he was still laughing

why was he not disturbed?

"sorry, no, you guys are fine! she's hilarious, man, your mom's right."

you relaxed a bit, not used to this kind of reaction, and eased into a conversation with him

he ended up taking you two to get hot dogs and tried daphne's order

even pretended to like it for her

once it was time for you two to get going, he got you into a cab and waved bye to you both through the window

walked back to his friends unable to stop thinking about you

little did he know you were thinking about him for the rest of the day and all night

you would never trust someone like him around daphy, but he actually got her to talk??

you can barely get her to talk sometimes

and he was really cute...

he didn't seem overly interested in her, it looked more like he was there for you but didn't mind that you and your daughter came as a package deal

so maybe you should text him. at the very least, sleep on it

it had been a while since you had let yourself try to be happy in this way, and you already knew he got along great with daphne

you fell asleep thinking about what you would wear next time you saw him

[ma1dita]

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

[lesbojournals]

being an american muggle dating poly!marauders would look like...

-lets pretend this exists in modern times pls <3

-just constant cultural differences. ALL OF THE TIME.

-the boys were traveling to the us and stopped in the cafe you work in, and it basically took off from there

-you immediately fell for the accents

-remus got a tea from the cafe, you had made it, and it tasted so HORRID that he made sirius and james try as well

-they were disappointed but the disappointment soon disappeared as james realized your phone number was written on the side of the cup

-they text you and set up a first date, let you know they're sort of a "package deal"

-for the first date you show them around your city, confused as to why they were so in awe that you had your driver's license

-the first date went so well that they extended their stay in the us to get to know you better

-it's not until wayyy later that you become Official-this is when you find out about wizardry and it just leaves you like :o

-"so what british people get to be wizards and i'm just stuck here"

-"no, that's not how it works dove."

-you blush REALLY hard at the different nicknames the boys have for you compared to the american counterpart: love, dove, etc.

-sirius makes fun of you constantly saying "dude, man, bro"

-"dude you bought me flowers!! no way!!"

-"do you have to call me dude"

-james approves of the american dude-bro persona you occasionally put on for shits and gigs

[sataraxia]

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver. 

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh. 

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought. 

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work”  the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you” 

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock. 

                                                                                                      luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

[mujeans]

SWEET ✦ HSH

SYNOPSIS ✦ in hindsight, you and seunghan's 'friendship' had been anything but. now he's got a girlfriend and moved on, but the same can't be said for you.

PAIR seunghan x f!reader, WC 396 words, TAGS drabble, ex-bff!seunghan, angst, situationship-esque WARNINGS none AN in celebration of seunghan's return YAYAY also inspired by my own experiences (if ure my ex bff pls talk to me again :rofl:)

looking back through old texts, you don't even care how loser-behaviour it is anymore. you miss him.

you miss seunghan.

he'd been your on-and-off best friend, cycling through periods when you'd be as thick as thieves, or drifted apart. but no matter what, you were always friends. a package deal.

throughout the years, your friends had teased you - "you and seunghan are so cute." "it's so clear you like each other!" "do you like him?"

but the two of you always denied it, because you were just friends. even if your friends always noted how you were happier with him; even if his friends would give him knowing looks when you were around.

he'd confessed something once - that he'd liked you back in eighth grade, then again in tenth to twelfth. on august one, you teased him for being single, and he'd smoothly asked if you could help him fix it.

butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you'd said yes. but mere hours later you'd retracted your statement, saying you needed to focus on school. you were scared to get in a relationship, because it was forbidden in almost every way; differing religions, strict parents, etc.

and he still stayed. he still held your hand in private, still placed his hand on the small of your back when walking through crowds, still stared at you with an intensity that made you flustered. god knows why he did when you could never give him what he really wanted. but he never left your side, and that's why he was your best friend.

but eventually, seunghan had moved and you'd both gotten caught up in your own lives. you heard through the grapevine that he's got a girlfriend now; you've seen the pictures - they're cute.

sometimes though, you can't help but wonder if he still thinks of you. of the girl he'd once spent every day talking to. of his old 'friend'. you wish that you'd been more sure of your feelings back then, more willing to take risks. maybe things could have turned out differently.

but it doesn't matter anymore. what with his girlfriend, it would be wrong of you to butt in. you wish them the best, and you keep your distance, even if you miss your best friend.

and that's how the saying goes, right? that you never realise what you have until it's gone.

TAGLIST ✦ @squiishymeow

[dreamtydraw]

missing ur keyframes mc noah pls pls pls draw them shes soooo cool (and elio if they come as a package deal)

Glad you like them but you'll probably won't see Noah a lot i lost interest in keyframes sadly :( I'll see if i re use them for another time cause it's the second time i loose interest in the game they were created for. but tada :

[kippyzzworld]

Tao Xu from heartstopper has undiagnosed bpd here’s why: (from someone that has undiagnosed bpd and has a therapist that agrees but can’t diagnose me since i’m underage)

(events may not be in complete order sorry)

from the show:

First i believe that for a while charlie is his favorite person, then he’s able to detach from charlie and slowly gets more and more attached to Elle after the scene where she wipes the facepaint off his face in the art room. then she becomes his favorite person

Elle describes meeting charlie and Tao came along as a “package deal” hinting that Tao’s likely been attached to him for awhile

Hates change, can’t deal with it

The scene where he finds out from Elle that Nick and charlie are together and charlie himself hasn’t told him yet, he seemed to have a moment that he split, seeing as how he just got up angry and left Elle

The next scene he’s messaging charlie and charlie tells him “be right there, i told nick id get lunch with him” and tao says “don’t bother, we’re barely friends anymore” and is shown to slam his phone down angrily is also another moment of him splitting (quotes paraphrased but i tried to get them as close as possible)

the scenes following of him ignoring charlie are definitely him still in the split mindset

Tao having the heart-to-heart about charlie to nick before the sports day saying stuff that seems overprotective and a bit rude in a sense that he’s in a way telling nick he makes charlie feel like crap can be seen as him upset over his fp having someone else

Also in the beginning when charlie ditched their plans he seemed so angry and heartbroken and abandoned, he took it the hardest out of the group

When him and Elle watch nick say yes to imogens date and tao tells charlie at his birthday i also saw that as a moment of protecting his fp

Literally fighting Harry over him, it’s not solid evidence but in my heart it is

He seemed so so jealous of Nick for a while

He makes Elle promise they’ll always put their friendship first before anything and no matter what happens, fear of abandonment

that’s all i can think show wise i haven’t watched the full thing in a while, my mom and i restarted it like we always do when we dye my hair but didn’t finish it so i was just jotting all this down whole we were watching

if you have anything else to add PLS DO!!! okay ty love u bye

[huckleberrykai]

hueningkai - all mine

pairing: hueningkai x fem!reader summary: kai was never the jealous type until you came along. genre: toxic fic?? idk lil angsty i guess kinda?? warnings: toxic obsessive kai, possessiveness, he is um. not normal about you LOL notes: I HAVEN'T WRITTEN TOXIC KAI BEFORE EEE but i do love reading it and i've been meaning to write something like this for a while. thanku kirby for requesting this !! i hope i did it justice :3 word count: 1.8k click here for my masterlist!

kai had never considered himself to be the jealous type. not until he met you anyway.

he'd had girlfriends in the past, and while none of the relationships ended badly, he just never really figured out what was supposed to make them all that great. then suddenly you came along, taehyun's childhood best friend ~ so sweet and pure. then suddenly, he understood what love was all about.

love wasn't even the word to describe how kai felt about you. obsession was probably a better-fitting description of how you plagued his every waking thought from the second you were introduced.

you got added to their group chat not long after, and soon you were best friends with all of the members. having finally got your number, kai started texting you silly little things that made your heart flutter - he stalked all of your social media to learn every interest you had, and upon learning you loved so many of the same things as him, he fell even harder.

when he finally worked up the courage to tell you he had a crush on you, he almost cried when you reciprocated his feelings. he felt so strongly about you he didn't even know what to do with himself, and from your very first kiss he was already mentally planning ways to propose and keep you with him forever.

kai figured the intensity and 'puppy love' phase of his obsession would wear off after a couple of weeks - but every kiss, every touch, everything about you still drove him crazy, even two years down the line. you brought out a side in him no one had ever seen.

unfortunately for him, dating kai came as a package deal with 3 other golden retriever boys who loved you just as much as your childhood friend taehyun did - so it always seemed like a competition for your attention. in the beginning kai just brushed it off. in the end it was his shirt you were wearing, his bed you'd sleep in whenever you spent the night, and his lips you'd kiss before you left the next morning. but for kai, as time went on, this just wasn't enough anymore.

he knew it wasn't right to feel this way, after all none of you had done anything wrong! but sometimes he felt yeonjun's eyes on your midriff when your crop top rode up a little, or soobin laughing a little too loudly at your jokes. beomgyu was the worst, always joking about how funny you are and that you'd be better off dating him since he's such a prankster. he never meant it. kai knew that. all of his friends loved his relationship with you and knew you made each other happy, so why did he get a fire in his belly every time you so much as interacted with one of them? his least favourite was when he'd see them in your notifications. especially outside of the group chat.

he shouldn't be mad at you talking to your friends. he trusted you, but as his obsession only grew he found himself trusting his members less and less. in fact he wasn't very trusting of anyone around you.

any time you'd go out he'd always tag along, convincing you it was just to spend time with you since he loves you ~ and you, unsuspecting of your sweet boyfriend, never saw the stern look he'd give every barista, every cashier or even just person who so much as looked at you. when he looked at you you saw nothing but love, but anyone else he'd look at would get the death stare of negative kai - your own personal bodyguard with a grip like iron around your waist.

any time you'd get a call or text he'd look at your phone or ask who you were talking to. you took at as just curiosity, but kai was definitely planning on how to get you to stop talking to them as quickly as possible. he felt a little bad when he pulled you off the phone to your parents, but who cares? they were taking away your precious attention that should have been all his.

over your relationship he'd held back so much - not on loving you, but on obsessing over you. he knew you were lovely, that was plain for anyone to see - but that also meant competition. he wanted you to only ever think of him. to be half as obsessed with him as he was with you - but from your end it was all healthy. just two happy lovers <3

from the outside you just seemed like a couple in love, your parents adored him, your friends were rooting for you, everything was perfect!

after one incident in particular though, kai snapped a little.

it shouldn't really have been out of the ordinary. kai usually held back when he saw texts from other people on your phone, choosing to ignore his distaste for them - but when a message from soobin popped up starting with 'make sure you don't tell kai...' he felt his chest tighten. another one popped through seconds later, 'he'd kill me if he knew we...'

he couldn't stop himself. typing in your password, already breathing heavy and starting to cry. if it's what he thought it was he didn't know what he'd do to soobin, but he knew it wouldn't be pretty.

sooby 🐰 8:54pm

make sure you don't tell kai me and beomgyu broke the ps5

he'd kill me if he knew we threw the controllers at it to try make it work, the whole side fell off lol

oh.

"baby?" his head snapped up at the image of you towel drying your hair, only wearing his shirt and your underwear. he was still panic crying with your phone in his hand, and even though everything was fine he somehow felt angry.

"you'd never cheat on me right?" slipped past his lips before he could stop it.

you didn't even bat an eye. "no way. i don't like people to begin with, you barely made the cut yourself," you teased him and laughed. when you turned around though you saw he definitely was not joking with you - teary eyes and cheeks, red in the face, he looked like he'd just had his heart ripped out. the last comment stung him too - barely made the cut? what did you mean by that? did you not like him?

"hyuka baby what's wrong. i was just kidding, did something happen?"

he sat on the edge of his bed and you squeezed your way between his legs, standing in front of him and taking him into a big hug. you smelled like his shampoo and body wash, you were wearing his clothes. you're all his.

"no. just saw a weird text is all."

"oh? who was it? i'll block them."

"no don't. just soobin."

"oh? what'd he say?" you plucked the phone from his hands and checked through his texts, sitting on his lap. "oh kai i'm sorry, i'll help you get a new playstation." he shook his head. "no, no it's not that. just the way it was worded... the notification cut the end off and i.. i thought something was going on.."

"you're kidding right? hyuka i love you!" you punctuated your sentence with a kiss to his cheek, salty tears stinging your lips.

"'m sorry. i just don't like when they talk to you.." he admitted without much thought, playing with the hem of the fabric hanging off your body. "it's like i don't want anyone else near you. talking to you. i want all of your attention. and i dunno seeing soobin text you-"

"kai."

he looked up at you, big brown eyes wet with tears and fear. "you know that wouldn't be healthy. you have to trust me okay?"

"thats the thing. i do trust you, i just don't trust them."

"who?"

"anyone who looks at you."

"kai..."

"Y/N i've been in love with you since the second i saw you. other people have to have been the same, i just don't want other people to talk to you and you leave me. i wouldn't know what to do... Y/N please." his tears started flowing again but his face stayed still as he looked up into your eyes. you wiped his tears and pressed a kiss to his perfect nose.

"i'm not going anywhere. you're mine and i'm yours okay? no one else."

he nodded, eyes still boring into yours. he was mostly satisfied by this, and let you pull him down into bed. cuddling into his chest you opened your phone again to at least not leave soobin on read.

Y/N 🐧💗 9:12pm

he already knows lol

good luck getting your asses whooped <3

"why are you texting him again?" a permanent pout was etched onto his lips as he glared at your screen. "i'm not just gonna leave him on read, that's rude."

kai hummed distastefully. "you put a heart on there too... those are just for me."

"kai, it's sarcastic heart."

"are your hearts for me sarcastic?"

"okay that's it. what has gotten into you?" you try to sit up off his chest, but he pulls you right back down.

"answer me."

"no! of course not! i don't know what's making you act so weird right now but knock it off okay?"

he goes silent for a little bit and you settle back in against him, assuming the argument is over.

"i'm sorry. i'm just scared, you don't have to stop talking to them.. but not all the time okay? i want your time."

"and you have it. you have me hyuka... i love you. not anyone else."

you feel him press a few kisses into your hair and mumble an i love you back against your scalp. he hums to you softly and turns out the light - some sleep would calm you down.

his deep voice and soothing rubs to your back get you to settle down and cuddle with him properly, worried thoughts of kai's possessiveness melting away as you fall into dreamland.

almost as soon as you dropped off, kai's eyes were torn away from your sleeping face to your phone lighting up again.

soobin. again.

he was done with this. with the hand that wasn't wrapped around you he typed in your password, making quick work of deleting all of your contacts he didn't know, and deleting soobin, beomgyu and yeonjun. he trusted taehyun, you were childhood friends after all~ but everyone else... delete... delete...

"hmph...? baby what are you doing?" you mumbled sleepily, stirring from the phone light lighting up kai's face in the dark.

"nothing princess. it's all fine, just checking the time."

"okay. love you."

you knew this whole ordeal was a red flag, but you loved him. you thought you could change him, and so it was no biggie. this was just one bump in the road right?

and that's exactly how kai wanted you to think.

"you're all mine right?"

"mhm~ i'm all yours." you slurred back.

"all mine."

sfw taglist: @beoms-sugar @mazeinthemoon @n0-thisispatrick @strawberry-kirby @majestyjun @bibibinnie @beom-pyu @minholing @ohmahgods @txtistheloml