#second favourite book in the series
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zephyrd17 · 6 days ago
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Update.
What the fuck did I just read.
Just can't wait to not be able to open social media for like ten days till my Onyx Storm arrives.
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cangrellesteponme · 3 months ago
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btw i want to let it be known that every time i say something good about a fiction book on here it's a book i would never EVER recommend reading.
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chronicowboy · 1 year ago
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tagged by the lovely @eddiebabygirldiaz to post the 9 books i'm most excited to read this year so in no particular order
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tagging @danielsousa @binickmiller @poughkeepsies @diazass @shitouttabuck @jjudaslips if u want <3
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raytorosaurus · 2 years ago
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i've honestly spent my entire life chasing a new fictional character who affects me quite as deeply and painfully and delightfully as marco animorphs tbh. and i'll never find one.
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months ago
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This book I’m reading is so good I’m genuinely mad that I put off reading it
#before any of you get excited thinking i’m about to recommend high class literature it’s an ice planet barbarians book#specifically barbarian’s choice#i was like ‘hmm i mean i Like farli but i’ve been enjoying the formula of human x sa-khui romances’#but i wanted to read something that wouldn’t require too many of my brain cells because honestly i did a lot today. so i picked it up#and oh my godddddddd#SO good. literally so so good. i was ready for mardok to be some boring green alien; like i’d braced myself for him to have weird feet#or something like that. but he’s modern sahk??? which is somehow the absolute BEST thing he could’ve been#i’m squealing and kicking my feet in bed it’s SO good. farli is adorable. mardok is hot. mardok’s crew are dicks#the worldbuilding is chef’s fucking KISS i am living#maybe my standards have eroded after nearly a dozen books of people boning down in caves but i’m obsessed with this#i think i’m going to finish this series honestly. like i blitzed through the novellas for absolutely no reason#would anyone want me to rank them? would literally anyone on planet earth be interested in that? fuck it i might do it anyway#honestly as it stands now; this book is easily my favourite. maddie’s book is second and kira’s is third#tiffany’s probably fourth. then josie’s. and i have a soft spot for the holiday novella#bottom of the list would be stacy’s book and potentially georgie’s and liz’s. maybe asha’s as well unfortunately#harlow and lila were great but not my absolute favourites#personal
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portuguesedisaster · 1 year ago
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It's 2 am and I just finished another book which I thought was a standalone. Hell yeah to my sleep schedule!
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ghavialis · 1 year ago
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Eragon posts will end soon I promise I'm almost finished the reread
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gatheryepens · 2 years ago
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Godzilla-read's Easy & Simple 2023 Reading Challenge
💐 March- A book a parental figure enjoys. If you don't have a parental figure, choose a friend.
3.5 ⭐️ - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Okay so I know this is two months later but I was in big book slump, so I’m slowly but surely catching up on the reading prompts 😭. None of my parents are big readers so I read a book that two of my friends really enjoy. I was really surprised that I actually enjoyed this book I don’t read fantasy often but I would say this book had a good magical element (I’m still waiting to read a fantasy book that blows me away and makes me adore the genre). I kept going back and forth on a rating for the book because there were some really good elements and some elements I didn’t enjoy as much. I think what bumped it to a 3 star book for me was the plot it was very good and kept me interested, what kept it from not being 4 stars were the characters. Don’t get me wrong not all of them were bad but the main character Feyre irked and frustrated me a lot and the two love interests did some questionable stuff that made me so angry. Will I continue the series? Probably not, for two reasons:
1. I’m fine with the ending thus far. After reading the book, I didn’t automatically think oh I need to read the next book and I don’t think that is a bad thing I just didn’t feel that connected.
2. I’m inherently lazy and committing to four more books is something I couldn’t do.
If anyone has any good fantasy recommendations I would love to hear them :)
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alloutofgoddesses · 2 years ago
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I've not read that series, can you tell me about the wingfeather series, as for making stats for creatures, a quick fix is taking their closest analogue from the monster manual :)
There is nothing I would love to do more than tell you about this book series!
It’s written by Andrew Peterson, who on top of being an author is a Christian musician which is how my parents found him.
There are four main books in the YA saga with the first one being ‘On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness’. The series follows the Igiby family, which is made of a grandfather (Podo), his daughter (Nia), her three children (Janner, Tink, and Leeli), and a dog (Nugget). The overarching theme is about transformation and of course, defeating Gnag the Nameless and his evil Fangs of Dang. There is also an animated series, with one season out on Angel Studios.
(I have realised that this is gonna get long so, more under the cut)
There are some spin-off books, such as the Creaturepedia which is going to be enormously helpful in making a campaign setting because something Peterson has done extremely well is the world-building and various creatures. My personal favourite is the Toothy Cow.
Given that it’s written by a Christian author it’s creation story is One Man, One Woman but other than that and the characters ‘thanking the Maker’ it doesn’t really have all that much overbearing religion in it, at least in my opinion. The series also has heavy influence from Celtic cultures, especially in the third and fourth books. There are also some really great songs due to Peterson being a musician.
The reason I personally love these books so much is because while yes, there’s an Evil to be defeated it is mostly a tale about overcoming and learning to love yourself and the strengths you have. The youngest of the main characters, Leeli, has to walk with a crutch, but that doesn’t change anything about her and she’s never left out of anything because of it. Every main character, as well as some ancillary characters, is fully fleshed out and given wonderful arcs that lead to a satisfying conclusion. I can’t read any one of these books without crying at least once because of how well-written it is.
Lastly, the plot twist in the first book broke my brain apart when I read it for the first time but when re-reading as an adult I feel like one could put the pieces together before the characters in the book do. It’s still pretty amazing though.
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jaylaxies · 4 months ago
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ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)
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PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).
WORD COUNT: 17.4k words
SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.
A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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Chapter 1. The café. 
The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes. 
It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case. 
You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. 
“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face. 
Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh. 
You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face. 
“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly. 
“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way. 
“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself. 
“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added. 
“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief. 
“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug. 
You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all. 
Almost as if he was enjoying it. 
“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment. 
You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung. 
“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?” 
A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama. 
You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong. 
“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth. 
“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever. 
“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?” 
Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body. 
“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos. 
“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces. 
“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back. 
“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance. 
“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp. 
“Yeah?” He asked. 
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Fine, then live with me for a week.”
“What?”
“Wait, what?”
“Huh?” 
You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses. 
“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.
He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked. 
“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly. 
“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background. 
“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze. 
“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner. 
“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more. 
“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away. 
“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained. 
Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—
“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap. 
You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever. 
“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore. 
“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes. 
“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second. 
Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose. 
“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face. 
“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled. 
“Yeah. Yes, they are.”
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Chapter 2. The humble abode. 
Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back. 
It wasn’t easy. 
Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come. 
Heeseung was going to be your roommate. 
The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.
Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment. 
And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home. 
“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you. 
“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled. 
“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had. 
“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically. 
“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”
“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment. 
“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization. 
He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”
And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends. 
“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you. 
On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’
“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch. 
“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date. 
“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly. 
“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled. 
Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart. 
As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight. 
“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him. 
“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process. 
“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. 
Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:
“What did I do?” 
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Chapter 3. Not so humble. 
Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place. 
It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while. 
It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days. 
It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days. 
It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate. 
His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind. 
“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked. 
“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top. 
“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way. 
“Hah, as if.”
“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked. 
You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?” 
You gave him a look before retreating back to your room. 
“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?” 
“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door. 
“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”
“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”
“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever. 
“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath. 
“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”
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Chapter 4. Not your driver. 
“Toothbrush?”
“Check.”
“Laptop?”
“Check.”
“Charger?”
“Check.”
“Passport?”
“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing. 
“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.
“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed. 
The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”
You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”
“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled. 
You stared at him, expressionless. 
You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face. 
“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction. 
You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”
“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening. 
“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked. 
“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you. 
“Yes!”
“No!”
You and Heeseung exchanged glances. 
“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment. 
You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way. 
It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness. 
Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus. 
“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung. 
“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized. 
You rolled your eyes. 
“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror. 
“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”
You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both. 
However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?” 
“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice. 
“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”
“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything. 
You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you. 
“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky. 
“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”
“I can do it—”
“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up. 
His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again. 
“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was. 
“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.  
Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze. 
“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.  
He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”
You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving. 
You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus. 
“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out. 
You blamed his scent. 
It was all because of his scent. 
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Chapter 5. Home Alone. 
It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked. 
Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy. 
Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one. 
That’s what you have to deal with now. 
With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”
Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot. 
Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled. 
You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned. 
“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away. 
The action which caused him to moan.
You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again. 
“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. 
“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again. 
“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him. 
“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules. 
Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3
1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food.  3. No loud music and video games.  4. No bringing guests without prior notice. 
“No guests?” 
“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked. 
He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.  
“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere. 
Way too sincere for your own liking. 
“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow. 
“Since you asked nicely.”
5. Chores will be divided equally.  6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung. 
“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway. 
“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him. 
“We can just ignore each other.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”
“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.
Arguing with him was pointless. 
“Okay, fine.”
9. Maintain cleanliness.
That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away. 
You didn’t wanna hurt yourself. 
You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better. 
With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him. 
“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung. 
“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed. 
“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”
“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.
“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face. 
You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid. 
“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face. 
With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines. 
You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it. 
“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice. 
“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm. 
“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.” 
“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.” 
You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating. 
Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.  
“Can’t move?” He teased. 
“I’m just tired, move.”
“Or, you’re just weak.”
“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.  
“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger. 
“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move. 
“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.  
Messing with you was one thing. 
Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing. 
But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war. 
“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him. 
He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back. 
“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you. 
You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that. 
“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered. 
“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.  
Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you. 
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Chapter 6. A proof? 
In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things. 
First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless. 
Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook. 
And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind. 
Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face. 
It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him. 
But then, he did what he had to. 
He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself. 
Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it. 
“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment. 
There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone. 
It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound. 
You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer. 
The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside. 
The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face. 
He was naked. 
He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background. 
“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were. 
And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 
He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so. 
You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. 
That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it. 
He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it. 
He indeed had a big fucking cock. 
And he knew exactly how to use it. 
Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close? 
You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him. 
“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration. 
You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind. 
“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland. 
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Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation. 
Overthinking was going to be your demise. 
If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts. 
You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated. 
Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind. 
“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”
You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means. 
However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late. 
It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today. 
“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it. 
“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second. 
“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again. 
At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment. 
You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place. 
And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No. 
You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised. 
Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay. 
Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer. 
A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more. 
Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text. 
“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening. 
“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes. 
At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right? 
“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you. 
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon. 
Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated. 
Right? 
You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you. 
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes. 
“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room. 
“Away from you,” you mumbled. 
He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again. 
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done. 
“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower. 
Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out. 
You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.” 
“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled. 
You had officially lost your mind. 
“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him. 
“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall. 
“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours. 
You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip. 
“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave. 
“Shut up,” you breathed out. 
“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage. 
“No,” you mumbled. 
He smirked, “no?” 
“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice. 
You hated him. 
And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips. 
“Yes, baby?” 
“I—”
“You?” 
“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself. 
“Please what, my love?” 
You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud. 
“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip. 
“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face. 
His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva. 
You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.  
That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses. 
You had just kissed Heeseung. 
And you liked it. 
Well, fuck!
You had to run, you had to leave. 
That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away. 
It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips. 
“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned. 
Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth. 
“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after. 
“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties. 
The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet. 
All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again. 
Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles. 
Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved. 
Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand. 
“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny. 
Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop. 
You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.
Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw. 
Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation. 
You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window. 
That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized. 
You wanted Lee Heeseung. 
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 Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages? 
It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this. 
You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now? 
He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you? 
You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back. 
Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone. 
He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again. 
Did he go too far this time? 
He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips. 
However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake. 
The thought of him hating you kept you awake. 
And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over. 
You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning. 
However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room. 
“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed. 
There was no answer, which only irritated you more. 
It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away. 
Were you making a big thing out of this? 
You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again. 
You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect. 
26 missed calls from Heeseung. 
Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it? 
You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside. 
Gyu 🐰: I’m here!! 
Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing? 
Fuck. 
You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door. 
“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring. 
The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other. 
“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully. 
Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you. 
Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say. 
That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face. 
“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed. 
“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face. 
“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?” 
You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung. 
“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated. 
“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him. 
He only blinked, once and then twice. 
“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath. 
“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.  
“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”
“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again. 
“Gyu.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder. 
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something. 
“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed. 
That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice. 
But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out. 
You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics. 
It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining. 
However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people. 
He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset. 
Heeseung felt like his life was ruined. 
Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you. 
You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.
It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life. 
It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung. 
It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.
Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this. 
He had to do something. 
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Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love. 
It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again. 
You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this. 
However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself. 
So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork. 
“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more. 
“Hee—” you gulped. 
“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”
You still couldn’t look in his eyes. 
He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it. 
You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did. 
Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time. 
You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again. 
“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions. 
“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held. 
“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him. 
It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse. 
“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”
“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”
“—don’t call him that.”
“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”
Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now. 
You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”
“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours. 
“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more. 
“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”
“What?” You were taken aback. 
“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper. 
The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected. 
There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words. 
He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—
“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours. 
His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen. 
“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you. 
He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush. 
He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung. 
He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more. 
“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.” 
“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. 
With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably. 
“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”
He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.” 
You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps. 
“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you. 
He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut. 
“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?” 
“What?” 
“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly. 
You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease. 
Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum. 
“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck. 
You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy. 
“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more. 
“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body. 
“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.
“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function. 
“Want you,” you finally spoke up. 
“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react. 
You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches. 
“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing. 
However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.” 
You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”
He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra. 
Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go. 
“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance. 
Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well. 
Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps. 
The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you. 
Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now. 
You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead. 
His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease. 
Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight. 
“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.
“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room. 
You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says. 
He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you. 
“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched. 
You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long. 
He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended. 
Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier. 
He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks. 
His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath. 
“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care. 
You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.  
“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most. 
“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.” 
“Please,” you begged feebly. 
“Please what, love?” 
You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body. 
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.  
Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds. 
“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”
His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit. 
Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same. 
With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you. 
Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again. 
You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe. 
The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again. 
Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear. 
He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations. 
The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open. 
Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him. 
“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt. 
You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure. 
Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go. 
You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed. 
“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over. 
“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper. 
“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth. 
You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped. 
With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure. 
He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth. 
He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop. 
“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently. 
You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum. 
“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened. 
“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke. 
“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”
“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm. 
“Shh, you can take it, right?”
His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night. 
“Yeah,” you whispered. 
“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy. 
“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours. 
His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt. 
You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him. 
“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?” 
“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back. 
“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. 
He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself. 
Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud. 
Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression. 
“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled. 
“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”
“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say. 
Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.  
You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you. 
“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better. 
“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully. 
Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. 
“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him. 
“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up. 
You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over. 
You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster. 
The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out. 
And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name. 
You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out. 
“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered. 
His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop. 
With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder. 
“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt. 
Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. 
A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you. 
He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you. 
You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so. 
It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed. 
You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.
That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation. 
“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining. 
“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”
“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice. 
You were never the one to confront. 
“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way. 
“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation. 
“Me?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember?”
“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong. 
You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”
Heeseung looked lost as ever.  
“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable. 
“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong. 
“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled. 
What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back? 
“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”
Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips. 
“You know what you said?”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”
There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point. 
Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her. 
In front of everyone at that. 
“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him. 
“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.���
“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement. 
“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”
“Like pranking and bothering me?”
“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed. 
“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?
A misunderstanding. 
You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding. 
“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression. 
“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended. 
“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times. 
“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again. 
“Yeah, princess?” He whispered. 
“So, about what happened—”
“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly. 
If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung. 
“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”
Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name. 
“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out. 
“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”
“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”
He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile. 
“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way. 
“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his. 
“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 
At that moment, you truly felt happy. 
And that’s all that mattered. 
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Chapter 10: I saw it coming. 
It’s baffling. 
Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more. 
Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there. 
It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses. 
You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before. 
He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile. 
Especially when he was the one who made you smile. 
“Does this mean we’re dating now?”
“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled. 
“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled. 
“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes. 
You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly. 
However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today. 
Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off. 
Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal. 
Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face. 
“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”
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primofate · 11 months ago
Text
Confessions Series - Part 2: Description [Genshin Impact Male Characters]
In a nutshell: He asks if you have your eyes set on someone. You start describing HIS features and watch for his reaction. (Hint: He likes you too)
Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Overheard)
Warnings: The usual, haven't written in a while, please forgive mistakes, bit of angst in Diluc (couldn't help it), I am a sleep deprived mother, some profanity, for some reason did not feel like writing Zhongli though he's one of my faves.
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gaming, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Wriothesley, Xiao, gn!reader
Personal Favourites: Diluc, Wriothesley
Aether
"Yeah, I do," you start. "He's very selfless...He's always running around helping other people,"
Aether nods, intense gaze in his eyes while listening.
"Hmm...He has...a partner. Like a companion he always travels with..."
Aether's brows start to furrow and his head tilts the slightest bit. Paimon flying next to him has no clue who it is whatsoever.
"He's not originally from Teyvat...He's on a journey, you see..." this is where you start getting nervous
You see it click in Aether's head slowly, and his eyes start to widen the slightest bit
"Hey, that sounds an awful lot like you, traveller! Why have we never met this person before, Y/N?" Paimon asks and you only smile.
"P-Paimon," Aether glances at her and then back to you. It's silent for a moment. Paimon is super confused.
But Aether being Aether didn't want to get the wrong idea and racks up the courage to ask you one last question. "He's on a journey...to look for his twin sister?"
You smile the brightest smile you've ever given him. "Correct!"
"Ah...Well..." Aether starts to feel the heat on his cheeks. "That's..." he doesn't say anything else for a few seconds. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just...I'm happy!"
Is basically flustered when he realizes you've technically just confessed to him.
Albedo
"Simply put, I think he's dedicated to his craft," You shrug and smile
"...An admirable trait," he responds.
"He's frequently in Dragonspine. He spends a bit of time in his lab there," you decide to just go straight for the obvious.
Albedo pauses. "I...see..." Turns to you with a small smile "I wasn't aware that you were that fond of me,"
"Now you know," you simply say and try to play it off with a wave of your hand.
He chuckles under his breath and strides over to you while saying. "Well then, I suppose it's my turn to talk about the person I've set my eyes on,"
Proceeds to describe you accurately, down to your likes and dislikes. In his eyes, you seem like something so precious and you can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.
Alhaitham
"Hmm... Sort of," you explain. "He's a little...hard to reach,"
Alhaitham "...and you still pursue him?"
You laugh a bit "I'm hardly pursuing him, I'm just...observing. I like watching him, even though he has the most unreadable face I've seen,"
Alhaitham goes quiet for a moment. He catches on fast, he already has an idea but is cautious about what he says. "...I see," he doesn't ask anything else, but you continue to offer information.
"He likes reading. Really smart guy...but kind of no nonsense type. Very straight to the point," You begin to feel a little nervous so you pretend to read your own book with a small shrug.
The silence is deafening.
"I suspect that type of person will be hard to put up with," he suddenly says aloud and you chuckle in response.
"Possibly, but he seems to be putting up with me too...I guess?"
He suddenly closes his book and leans forward to pry the one in your hands away. He locks his gaze with you. "...'Putting up' is hardly the word I would use." his lips twitch the slightest bit before continuing. "He has little to no patience for other people...so if he keeps you around...perhaps it signals something else,"
"Something else...As in, I'm special?"
Again he quiets for a moment, before he stands up, chair scraping the floor. "...Precisely," he turns to start walking out of the library, waving a hand behind him. "I'll pick you up in the morning tomorrow,"
Ayato
"I do, but he's a very busy sort of man,"
Ayato "Is that so?" he pours tea for you.
"Quite. He's also a very important person,"
He hums and watches the billowing steam from the tea. "It sounds as if I might know this person," but he genuinely doesn't know it's him, he just thinks its another noble.
"...You most definitely know him. He has a sister. Lovely girl." This is where you avert your gaze from him in fear of him instantly connecting the dots.
He talks in pauses "A...sister..." His mind is starting to make connections but he can't be quite sure yet. So he prods further. "...Does she happen to have a vision?"
"A cryo vision holder, yes," you're biting the inside of your lip at this point. There's a moment of silence before you hear Ayato laughing rather gleefully, like he was amused by a story.
"I see." he ends with a chuckle. "I apologize for being so busy, Y/N," he smiles at you "I promise I'll do my best to arrange my priorities in order to spend more time with you,"
Baizhu
"He takes his job too seriously and can be quite reckless...Sometimes he even puts himself in danger,"
Changsheng catches on immediately. The snake had already known for a while. Baizhu was just being dense. "Oh here we go," the snake half whines.
Baizhu gives it a weird look before turning his attention back to you. "That does sound reckless,"
"I've told him a couple of times to think about himself too...but I guess he's just really passionate about his job,"
Baizhu sort of shrugs, "What IS his job?"
"...Well for starters he owns a pharmacy around town,"
To Baizhu the realization hits all too slowly. It's not that he was slow or dense, but he was having a hard time believing that it was him you were talking about, specially when you hadn't said it outfront.
"...You do realize I'm the only one who owns a pharmacy around town?" he asks, eyes piercing through you and awaiting your answer.
Changsheng is the one who answers for you. "Yes you ridiculous doctor, Y/N's pertaining to you!"
It's the first time you've seen him blush and he turns his head away when he does so. "I-I see, well...that's rather, unexpected...but not unwelcome,"
Clears his throat "Just give me a moment"
Changsheng would roll its eyes if it could.
Bennett
"Has a lot of energy...Sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it. I really like him for that though."
Deflates as soon as you start talking about your "crush". What kind of answer was he expecting anyway? That you had eyes for him?
"He has a bit of a...problem when it comes to luck," you continue
Bennett stops, you look at him and you can practically see the gears in his head starting to turn a little faster.
"Y-Y/N? Are you talking about..." then the gears suddenly stop. "Oh what am I saying, it can't be. Ahahaha! Let's go!" starts walking again as if nothing happened
Your jaw drops and you're forced to just DIRECTLY tell him you're talking about him.
"...Oh...Oh! F-For real?! Oh...Sorry... I just thought... there's no way! B-But, I'm really glad! Really!"
Chongyun
"Hmm...He's a little shy...but he's very responsible,"
Chongyun stares at you intently and nods as if taking notes.
"He doesn't like spicy stuff,"
Chongyun nods twice, eagerly.
"He's very dedicated in learning about thaumaturgy,"
Chongyun blanks out, brows furrow but still nods. Slowly.
"He's really good with a claymore too!"
Chongyun stops and stares at you, you see a hint of red gracing his cheeks "Y/N...You can't possibly be...talking about... m-m-m-"
Can't seem to say it, so you outright say that it is, in fact, him.
Combusts into a tomato red
Cyno
"How do I say this...He's a pretty strict guy." The two of you are playing Invokation TCG during this convo.
"Mmhmm..." Cyno is focused on his cards, frankly he doesn't give a craps ass who you're into. He didn't even know why he asked, he just dug himself a hole.
"...but he really only takes his work seriously. It's his job to be serious, I guess. I think that's what Matras need to do," he finished his turn and its yours now, though he's still studying his cards intently. Until you get to the Matra part.
"He's a Matra?" You rarely see a surprised face on Cyno so you focus your gaze on him. "Which one?" He further asks. Honestly he looks about to murder someone.
You blank out a bit at how intense his stare was, "Well...You know. That one, the one who's really into Invokation TCG,"
He immediately follows up without missing a beat "I don't know anyone else who's into--" then it clicks.
It was so damn silent for a good 10 seconds. You clear your throat, tear your eyes off him "Um, it's your turn,"
STILL doesn't budge until he finally goes back to his cards with a whisper, you can't really tell but he looks slightly bashful and you can barely, BARELY hear him "...If I win then we go on a date,"
"Okay, and if you lose?"
Cyno "...I'm not gunna lose,"
"See, I told you he's a really serious guy,"
Dainsleif
"I think he's a very dedicated person," you get lost in thought a little, thinking about him. "Whenever I look at him...Sometimes I feel as if there's a certain sadness in him... Perhaps he blames himself for not being able to protect his nation,"
He IMMEDIATELY knows. And he knows that you hurt for him too. How could he not?
"He searches for answers... I don't know for how long, I suppose a long, long time," you close your eyes, imagining how long he must have been wandering Teyvat.
You only open your eyes when you feel a hand brush against yours. He's looking straight at you, neither happy nor sad. "...You don't have to feel that way, for my circumstances,"
The brush against your hand disappears and reappears next to your cheek, his fingers gently resting on it "...Knowing that you feel that way, has taken away some of the burden that I shoulder,"
His gaze suddenly hardens and his voice drops to a whisper, "But please, just don't end up in the same way as everyone else,"
Diluc (I don't know why I end up writing a whole novel for this guy. I guess he's my OG favourite)
You pause for a moment, wondering how to describe Diluc. "...Sometimes... I feel as if I know a lot about him and yet... he's still far off in the distance,"
Diluc, rifling through paperwork, doesn't even look at you. "...That tells me nothing about him," there's a bit of bite in his statement.
You sigh a little, "I mean, simply said he's a hardworking man. He always has Mondstadt's best interests in mind...but he prefers to work alone,"
He's silent, but you can still hear the paper shuffling.
"....but people love him. They care for him. I suppose I understand why he keeps a distance but..." at this point you don't even realize that you're just rambling and staring into space. Sort of in a daze of thinking out loud. "...isn't it lonely? ...I suppose I shouldn't assume how he feels. Maybe he's fine with it...I just wonder how long till he sees us..." there's silence, no ruffle of papers, you're still just staring at the bookshelf and you continue in a monotone voice. "...or sees me,"
You blink, and all of a sudden its as if a magic spell is cast on you and you wake up to the reality that you've been rambling about him. You sit up straight "Oh," then turn to him with a careful smile. You don't think he knows what or who you're talking about anyway. "I better get going," you stand, "Jean must be waiting for me."
You leave, and he doesn't stop you.
You don't really think anything of it, feeling as if your whole monologue was very vague...but to your surprise he knocks at your door in the evening, there's a bit of rain falling.
"Diluc? You're drenche--"
"I see you,"
The determination in his voice lulls you to keep quiet and only stare up at him, wondering if he had more to say, but instead of saying something, he leans in, wrapping his arms around you and resting his forehead on your shoulder, as if he had been defeated.
You only welcome his embrace, and, for the first time in a long time. Diluc finally feels like he's home.
Gaming
"Passion!" You nod your head as you say it. "He knows what he wants to do and is incredibly dedicated to it!"
Gaming looks surprised, has no idea you're talking about him. "Huh! That's really cool!" He thinks he's the total opposite. "Wish I could be as dedicated as him."
You kind of laugh out loud and he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "What?"
"Gosh you really sell yourself short," you shake your head "Anyway, this guy, right, he kinda works two jobs," you put out your hand to count one and two "One, for the Secure Transport Agency and two, he's in a Wushou Troupe,"
Gaming instantly straightens his back and looks at you wide-eyed. You figure you had to be direct when it came to him otherwise he'd never get it with how modest he was.
"...You're...talking about...me?" You smile at him sympathetically.
"You know, Gaming, I wish you saw yourself the way others saw you. You're a great person,"
Big smile, but legit looks like he's about to cry. "Between the two of us? I think you're greater Y/N,"
Heizou
"...Honestly he's kind of a flirt," you raise your eyebrows at the fact and kind of question yourself why you like this kind of person. "Makes me wonder if he does that to everyone, you know?"
Heizou hums and puts his hand under his chin in a "thinking position"
"That's not enough evidence to go by. Perhaps we can investigate this guy together to see if he's worthy,"
You look at him, pursing your lips while musing and giving him a suspicious look. You're not sure if he's figured it out.
He's got no idea. I mean, it was a pretty general description. "Any distinguishing features?" he asks.
You look at him in a deadpan manner. "Red hair, I guess. And moles under his eyes,"
He looks back at you with a matching blank face.
Then breaks into a wide, close eyed grin. "I see! From experience, that person is truly trustworthy,"
You sigh a little, "Is he though?"
He chuckles heartily. "I promise you he is," offers you his hand with a genuine smile. "Let me show you,"
Itto
"Ummm... big, tall, strong looking guy. Intimidating at first look but he's actually a dork," you explain.
Itto crosses his arms above his chest with an unamused face. "Tch! No way! Ain't no one taller than me in Inazuma!" Then he looks smug again. "Anyway, keep goin'. What else?" Only asked you because he wants to see what your "type" is.
"...Popular? Nah... Infamous is the word, I think. He kinda gets into a lot of trouble,"
Itto raises a brow "You serious? Whaddyou want with someone like that?" as if he wasn't a troublemaker himself.
"I mean... He also loves life and somehow always sees the good side of things."
Itto "Eh... guess that's a good thing..." folds his arms behind his head and huffs.
This guy is never gunna get it so you drop more obvious hints. "He's an oni who has his own gang."
For a split second he looked like he was going to get it, and then... "WHAT?! There's another oni who wants to challenge the Arataki Gang?"
"That's not what I--"
punches his fist onto his palm "Lead the way Y/N, let me at 'em!"
"I'm talking about you!"
"Huh?"
"Itto, there's no other oni around town!" leave it to him to make you exasperated.
He quiets for a few seconds. "...But Y/N..."
You expectantly stare at him, curious what he was going to say about your confession.
"...Did you just call me a dork?"
Of course that's what he picks up on.
When he finally processes it though, he's stoked and on an all time high.
Kaeya
"...good at talking to people, and he knows it... Exudes charisma like he breathes air," You're saying this with a glare.
He chuckles and rests his head on his fist. "Why, pray tell, do you look angry when saying that?"
"Not angry..." you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing away from him. "Just... probably a lot of people like him,"
"And you don't like that?" He smirks. He totally knows.
"...No...Well...I'm okay with it... It's just... I think he's so much more than what he shows to others,"
That, he wasn't expecting. He actually feels genuinely touched.
"Sure he jokes around a lot...Is good at making people feel comfortable...but he's also kind...and you can always count on him," there's a faraway gaze in your eyes now, a small smile on your face. "To me, he's...a safe space."
Kaeya's smile drops. It looks like he's unhappy and you think that maybe you've made a mistake. Still...there's no way he knows that it's him, right? It was kinda vague...
You're about to stand and excuse yourself but he catches your wrist easily. "...You know..." he starts, meeting you eye to eye. He looks at you as if he's looking into your soul, his eyes the gentlest you've seen them.
"You make it so hard, not to fall deeper in love with you,"
Lyney (I have no idea how this ended up so dramatic)
"He isn't exactly a trickster...but he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve,"
Lyney "Oh?" Raises an eyebrow. Something kind of clicks in him, but he shakes it off. "The good kind or the bad kind?"
You stall a little, thinking of the answer, knowing that he's Fatui. "The...good...kind,"
"You don't sound very sure," he gives you a lopsided smile.
"It's complicated," you admit. "Regardless of the circumstances though, I think he's a great magician,"
You watch his face turn into surprise quite quickly, but he still looks and feels unsure of himself. "Oh, perhaps...I can learn a thing or two from him?"
Your smile turns forced and hard. He can't be serious? He STILL doesn't know, or...what?
"I...Well..." You don't know what to say next, but he seems to get the idea.
"Sorry, have I put you in a hard place? Ahaha..." Scratches the back of his head. "My apologies, I was just curious,"
This, for some reason, really puts you off and you feel as if you've been rejected, even though you technically had not outright told him that you're talking about him.
It seems silly for you to get upset, but you are. So you stand, and make a request of him. "Can we... just pretend this conversation didn't happen?" and you give him some sort of excuse that you need to run an errand or something, and you're off, leaving him feeling...guilty. But he doesn't know why. Or does he?
Lyney would look like the type of person who would be confident about himself. But, really, as a magician, he had to be 1000% sure about something before he went ahead with it, and so...that's where his doubt stemmed from.
Lynnette is really the one who knocks some sense into him. "...and you...let Y/N leave?" after hearing the story from him.
"Oh, Lyney... Regardless of what Y/N feels... For you, next to Freminet and I, is there someone else that you love dearly?"
That's how he ends up at your doorstep. Though you've seen his disappearing rose trick hundreds of times, he was the most sincere at that moment, when he says sorry that he didn't get the hint and to give him a chance.
Neuvillette
"Serious person. He seems to put his work first, above all else," you say. "I respect him a lot for that,"
Neuvillette is interested in what you say, but doesn't know at all that it's him. "He does sound quite respectable," he says while looking through some files.
"A long time ago he said that he feels like he's an outsider...but really I feel like there isn't anyone who knows Fontaine the way that he does,"
Neuvillette, moves the file he was reading downwards, just to look at you questioningly. "He's from Fontaine?" this was surprising to him.
"Well...he currently resides in Fontaine, yes," you nod.
"Ah," he answered curtly. "And I have never met him?" he asks.
"...He's very busy." you bite your lip, about to say something and you know that the next sentence is the point of no return. "He's the Iudex...so it's hard to catch him,"
You swear you can hear your heart hammering in your chest.
You see him put his files down and just stare at you with a sort of...unsure look.
His shoulders relax, he wasn't even aware he had been tense that whole time. "That... must have taken a lot of consideration and courage to say," he clears his throat.
You only nod your head slowly, moving your gaze away from him with an awkward smile. Hand absentmindedly grabbing a book and flipping through the pages...you had no idea what you were doing out of nervousness.
"I apologize...I'm unfamiliar with what to do in these kinds of situations... However," he pauses and seems to think carefully about what he was going to say next. "Please don't take it as a rejection. I'd be honored to navigate this with you, if you would so graciously have me,"
Scaramouche
"He's an asshole," you bite back a laugh.
He instantly knows.
"Actually he acts all tough only to give in to his inner-kind-of-agreeable-personality,"
He snorts
"What? Am I wrong?" you challenge him. You KNOW that he knows. The two of you have been hovering around each other for a while, and there's a certain closeness between the two of you. Though that line was never crossed.
He doesn't answer you back but prods you more. "Is that all? You like that he's an asshole? Are you some type of masochist?"
You almost laugh. "No, you moron. I'm saying he has a weird way of showing he cares. He's always biting my head about not being careful enough. But if he really didn't care he wouldn't be screaming at me, you know what I mean?"
Scaramouche grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms, turning away from you.
"Say that again?" You ask, not hearing what he said.
"...I said, you're not as stupid as I thought you were," shrugs his concealed embarrassment off and turns back to you all nonchalant again. "Anyway, stop yapping and get going, we got things to do,"
Snatches your hand and starts pulling you to walk with him.
Tartaglia (I feel like this is ridiculously short but I also feel like Tartaglia would have known a LONG time ago if the two of you had the feels for each other)
"Oh man...Probably the most reckless man I know,"
Also knows. Instantly. But shuts his mouth just so he can listen to you talk about him, but it gets deep real quick.
"In my opinion he's a handsome guy. Real charming," you smirk the tiniest bit. "but I don't know if I can keep up with him, honestly. It's a little hard not knowing when he's going to come back...or if he's even gunna come back at all,"
You weren't going to hide the fact that you were scared shitless he didn't return from Fontaine for ages. You legitimately thought he had died.
Tartaglia stops you there, by suddenly cradling your cheek. "Y/N," he's wearing a pained expression. "I'm sorry,"
"Don't be, it's your job, right?" You reassure him, and shrug.
He sighs "Yes, but I'll promise this to you as I've promised my family," he smiles, the most confident smile you've seen on him. Even more confident than when he wields his blades. "I'll come back to you, I always will,"
Wriothesley
"Er... How do I say this... He kind of has some... big boss energy?"
"Oh?" he sips at his tea, glancing at you while he looks at today's paper. "So he's a bigshot?" he asks curiously.
"Somewhat, yes. Intimidating at first look, but...he just has a great sense of responsibility," you pick at the selection of cakes and cookies he has.
"Huh," he lets out in a quick huff. In the deepest, DEEPEST parts of his mind there is a NANOSECOND that he thinks its him but it gets erased so quickly he's not even sure that he had thought about it.
"Sounds like a good person... Any interesting, weird quirks?" he grins as he says this, yet again glancing at your expression.
Your lips tremble a bit at what you're about to say, because you're SURE he was going to get it once you say it. You gulp and feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand before you say out loud "He likes tea. I kind of wonder if it's an addiction," you can't meet his eyes.
He's looking at the paper he's reading but nothing.registers.in.his.brain.its.like.it.stopped.working.
You shift in the uncomfortable silence but he calmly folds up the newspaper and places it on his table. "...I'm inclined to ask, because it would be embarrassing if I got the wrong idea,"
"Mmhmm," you pop a cookie in your mouth to distract yourself.
"By any chance, are you...talking about me?"
"Mm," you nod your head, still not looking at him and glue your eyes on the cookies instead, out of embarrassment.
Suddenly chuckles. You brave a peek at him, now covering his eyes with a single hand, head tipped back to rest on his chair.
You're not sure if that's a good or bad thing.
"Sorry, no, it's just... I didn't think it would happen this way." Visibly takes in a big breath and sighs it out slowly. Seems to have regained his composure and is back to his confident self, smiling at you. "Thanks Y/N, I... don't think it's much of a secret that I enjoy your company too. I'm just a little embarrassed that you beat me to it...some big boss energy huh?"
Xiao
"...He takes on everything by himself. I worry about him," You look at the stars as you say this. Xiao doesn't say anything.
"But I'm glad that he's opening up a lot more now. It's great to see him among friends,"
Xiao has a feeling at this point, that its him you're talking about, but he still doesn't say anything and keeps his gaze in front of him rather than on you.
"Yes, the road in front of him is long but...he's also already come a long way," you sigh a little "The time of Rex Lapis has long gone, but he still sticks to his principles. I think his dedication is part of what I like about him,"
This is when he turns to you, blank look on his face, contemplating on what to do. When you turn to meet his gaze, its then that he decides to bridge the gap between the two of you, shoulder to shoulder, leaning in sideways to catch your lips in a chaste and rather shy kiss.
"You should give a bit of credit to yourself, for putting up with me all these years, Y/N,"
End!
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floorpancakes · 2 years ago
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got my latest haul of japan purchases!!!! 🏵️🏵️🏵️
a crate of my beloved jagabata jagarico, chocomint ice miku, an akb48 live DVD set and photobook, 1970s rare fashion and uranai illustration books, my Emily Temple Cute baguette stripe jsk and finally usans merch aaaa
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solxamber · 3 months ago
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Trash Novel Chronicles: My Consort Calls Me Shrimpy || Floyd Leech
You get isekaid into a novel where the perfect Empress got absolutely wrecked by the plot, and now you have to juggle a bland heroine, a traitorous consort, and a delightfully unhinged eel who’s oddly good at solving your problems.
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You’re about three hours deep in line, squashed between a woman wearing an unsettling amount of dragon-themed jewelry and some dude intensely vaping in front of you. The line inches forward at the pace of continental drift, and you’re in no mood to be here.
You're here out of pure, misguided loyalty to your best friend, who’s practically shaking with excitement at the idea of meeting their favourite author—the world-renowned queen of girlboss fantasy.
In a valiant effort to distract yourself from your eternal boredom, you pull up her previous novels on your phone. Maybe, if you understood her work better, you’d understand why people would willingly spend this many hours standing on asphalt.
After skimming through some of her top titles, you can barely believe these are real book plots: Slaying the Patriarchy with My Stilettos? Lipstick and Blood Magic? Each one more ridiculous than the last, filled with protagonists who blast their enemies with a "feminine fury" and, honestly, you're just not buying it.
Why did I agree to this? you think, suppressing the urge to gnaw on your own hand out of boredom.
Suddenly, you spot a stray bird above—a pigeon, wobbling through the sky like it's had one too many lattes. You barely register the bird's existence until it lets out an alarming squawk and, in a tragic twist of fate, plummets from the heavens right towards your head.
In a perfect shot, it bonks you directly in the face, knocking you backward with an impressively dramatic flair. You spiral down, your vision blurring as you fall in slow motion, gasping.
In the last seconds of your consciousness, as chaos erupts around you, one solemn thought echoes through your mind: I hate pigeons.
And with that, you drift off into oblivion, serenaded by the panicked cries of your best friend and the distant wail of someone’s Lipstick and Blood Magic audiobook playing on full blast nearby.
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You wake up, blink, and immediately realize that your bed is both way too luxurious and way too large. Rich, velvet curtains drape around you, shimmering with gold embroidery.
A chandelier overhead sparkles with enough jewels to fund at least three public libraries. The air smells like a mixture of incense, rose petals, and maybe faint hints of… burning tyranny?
Oh, dear God. You’ve been isekai’d.
Straight into that novel you were doom-scrolling through to survive the crushing boredom of line-waiting.
Your mind reels back to the summary you’d read. The heroine, a weepy maid with all the emotional range of wet toast. The consort, a charming traitor with “dreamy eyes” who betrays his own Empress for said toast. And then, of course, the villainess.
That poor, genius Empress who actually had talent and ambition, who could annihilate anyone with a flick of her wrist and yet was somehow destined to lose it all because of a love triangle involving a glorified housekeeper.
And now—you are that Empress. The Villainess Extraordinaire, Scourge of Kingdoms, War-Waging Prodigy, Mary Sue on Steroids… and now you're stuck in this tragic play of bad romance tropes.
You shoot upright in bed, taking it all in. Lavish room. Silk sheets. Jewels littered around like confetti. And then you notice a presence by your bedside. You whip your head to see… her. The heroine.
She's standing there, looking down at you with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who hasn’t yet discovered a single personality trait. Her face is soft, angelic, and you already know that beneath those doe eyes lies… absolutely nothing.
She's here to dress you, a task that apparently requires thirty minutes of excessive hair-braiding, enough layers to construct a mattress, and endless, mind-numbing conversation about the consort.
Oh, right. The consort. Your dear, disloyal boy toy who’ll soon be scheming against you. He’s probably off somewhere sharpening his cheekbones in a mirror, wondering if he can pull off “soulful yet traitorous” in the same expression.
The heroine starts tugging on your hair, a bit too enthusiastically for your taste. "Your Majesty," she coos, “Your consort was asking for you yesterday. He misses your attention."
You mentally scream. I'm running an empire, Susan! Who cares about his feelings right now? You're barely awake, freshly isekai'd, and trying to mentally tally your enemies, not exactly in the mood for his fragile ego.
And, technically, aren’t you the one in need of support here? Not the consort, who apparently needs a throne, a palace, and a shoulder to cry on every two hours.
"Oh," you manage to reply, voice dripping with an irritation that you pray she interprets as imperial grace. "Tell him… I’m thinking about military reforms."
The heroine’s eyes flicker in confusion. "Military reforms?"
"Yes. Reforms. Vital to the stability of our empire." You wave a hand, and she clearly has no idea what you're talking about. This maid was not hired for her intellectual curiosity, that’s for sure.
Then comes the worst part: her doe eyes start misting over. Great. You forgot. Crying is, apparently, her most crucial skill set. She clutches a sleeve to her chest, looking at you as if you’ve announced the arrival of a natural disaster. "Your Majesty… but what about your consort?"
You take a deep breath. Focus. How did this woman end up so crucial to the plot? What was it about her that was supposed to outshine an entire empire? It’s as if she’s constructed entirely from damp tissues and vague romantic inclinations. And this is the girl who’s going to take you down?
But you’re already devising a plan. You’ll keep tabs on her. Outwardly, you’ll play the role of the intimidating yet graceful Empress, while inwardly making sure that neither she nor the consort gets a single chance to stab you in the back. And as for the consort himself…
Well, when he finally arrives for his “audience,” you’ll be sure to give him the warmest, most menacing smile in your arsenal. For now, you’ll have to endure the heroine’s dramatic sniffles and the hundred layers of fabric she’s convinced you need.
As she fiddles with a particularly elaborate golden sash, you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “Tell me,” you say, feigning curiosity. “What would you do if the palace were to… burn down?”
Her face goes blank for a second. Then, she frowns and wrinkles her nose as if this question is somehow unsolvable. “Um… cry?”
Of course. Absolutely riveting. You sigh and try to look satisfied, which is hard when you’re mentally questioning how this woman has a heartbeat, let alone plot armor thick enough to take you down.
By the time she finishes with your dress, you've already come up with about sixteen ways to save the empire and seventy-two reasons why this love triangle is absolutely ridiculous.
In the mirror, you catch a glimpse of yourself. You’re the picture of beauty and deadly grace, an unstoppable Empress who could wield the fate of kingdoms.
And they want to reduce you to a footnote in the saga of this girl’s whimpering romance?
Well, that’s not happening. You’ve read the novel; you know how this story ends. And now that you’re here, you’re rewriting that ridiculous fate.
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You try to keep a dignified expression, but inside, you’re screaming.
The entire reason you’ve gathered the harem is to graciously cut them loose and rid yourself of the ongoing melodrama. Because if there are no consorts, there’s no backstabbing love triangle, no tearful betrayals, and no doomed political coups.
You can practically taste the freedom already—so you clear your throat and begin, putting on your most diplomatic voice:
"Esteemed consorts,” you say, hands clasped. “Thank you for your service and devotion. You are now free to leave and may claim land and titles if you wish to remain in the empire.”
You pause, waiting for cheers or at least some relieved sighs. Instead, dead silence. You glance around and spot the heroine sneaking glances at the traitor consort, eyes brimming with pure unadulterated… something.
She looks like she’s five seconds away from throwing herself across a fainting couch. The consort looks at her for a moment and then back at you, entirely unimpressed.
Maybe they’re just in shock, you think, trying to keep it together. Maybe they need a moment to process the incredible gift of freedom you’ve just given them.
But then, from the back of the room, someone clears their throat—Floyd Leech. He raises his hand, a gleeful glint in his eye that makes your stomach churn.
See, Floyd was not a character that should’ve belonged in this novel. The man was unhinged. Slightly terrifying, if you’re being honest. He treated warfare like a casual hobby and had a grin that said I could absolutely cause problems on purpose.
And the worst part? Floyd was actually one of the few who stuck around in the original plot. After the Empress dies on the battlefield, he takes her body back to his home country, out of sheer love.
He's also the only one who got to call the Empress Regnant herself "Shrimpy" and lived to tell the tale. You'd swoon over the romantic implications if you weren't that same Empress who had bigger problems right now.
You steel yourself. ��Yes, Floyd?”
“Can I stay?” he says, looking entirely too happy. “These other guys are boring, but you’re kinda fun to watch.” He stares at you like you’re some sort of exotic animal in a zoo. “Besides,” he adds, throwing an arm over a very uncomfortable-looking consort, “who’s gonna protect you if I leave? These losers?”
God help you.
Before you can even answer, the traitor consort steps forward, expression so intense you can feel it from across the hall. He clears his throat dramatically. “My Empress,” he says, taking a deep, tragic breath. “My heart is bound to you, like—like the tides to the moon. Like—”
In the background, the heroine lets out an audible, swooning sigh. Oh, please, you think. You’ve seen better monologues in toothpaste commercials. The consort glances at the heroine, clearly confused, then goes back to gazing at you with what he probably thinks is soulful longing.
Meanwhile, Floyd is grinning at him, shark-like. “Nice speech, buddy,” he says, clapping the guy on the back hard enough that the consort nearly goes sprawling. “But I think she liked mine better.” He leans in to whisper, loudly, “Besides, I bet you don’t even know her favorite food.”
The consort’s face scrunches. “Do you?”
“Nope!” Floyd beams, looking at you as if expecting some kind of reward. “But I’m gonna figure it out.”
The consort looks like he wants to protest, but before he can, another one of the harem—Lord Something-or-Other—steps forward, visibly shaking with emotion. He kneels, clutching a hand to his heart as if he’s about to propose.
“My Empress,” he says, voice wobbling with way too much sincerity. “Without you, my life is a barren wasteland. I would rather endure the endless, scorching sands of—”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Floyd groans. “Do you guys hear yourselves?”
“Can you not mock me while I pour my heart out?” Lord Something-or-Other snaps back.
“Sure I can. I’m multi-talented,” Floyd replies with a grin that’s somehow both playful and threatening. He leans against the throne, looking completely at home while you fight the urge to dive out the nearest window.
Now everyone’s in a frenzy. Every last one of these men—your so-called “consorts”—are lining up to deliver heartfelt soliloquies, tragic metaphors, and similes so flowery they might as well be a bouquet. You can barely keep a straight face as the next one steps forward, proclaiming that he would “gladly suffer a thousand winters if only to see her smile.”
As if on cue, the heroine wipes a tear from her eye, sighing dreamily. The consort she’s apparently in love with looks at her again, this time with an expression somewhere between pity and terror. But she doesn’t seem to notice, too busy whispering to herself, “Oh, how romantic…”
And then Floyd leans down and whispers in your ear, voice gleeful. “Y’know, if you let ‘em keep going, they might just start fighting each other for you. Free entertainment. Whaddaya think?”
You feel a headache coming on. “Floyd, please, I’m begging you—”
“What?” he asks, grinning wider. “I thought this was fun. C’mon, Empress,” he drawls, giving the title an absurd little flourish. “Let me stay. I promise I won’t let any of these guys stage a rebellion.” He smirks at the traitor consort. “Unless you feel like rebelling, huh?”
The traitor consort scoffs, bristling. “Unlike some of us,” he says, glaring at Floyd, “my devotion is genuine.”
“And boring,” Floyd mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear.
You let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Fine, Floyd. You can stay,” you say, hoping that giving him what he wants will end this disaster. You’re immediately filled with regret as his grin widens.
“Awesome! And you know what? Since everyone’s so devoted, why don’t we all stay? Make it a real party.” Floyd tosses an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the death glares from half the room.
Now you’re stuck with fifteen poets, one unhinged eel, and a heroine who’s still making heart eyes at a man who clearly isn’t interested. And as you sit there, feeling your last shreds of sanity slip away, you think, This is going to be a very, very long reign.
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You’re making your way through the moonlit palace corridors, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the… experience that spending the night with Floyd Leech is sure to be.
Mostly, you’ve chosen him because, unhinged or not, he’s at least the most loyal out of this whole ridiculous lineup. Plus, there’s a kind of chaotic charm about him, like a very large, very untrained puppy with fangs.
But before you can even make it to his side palace, you’re intercepted.
“My Empress…” It’s the traitor consort. You sigh as he blocks your path, looking like he’s about to burst into tears. He’s clutching his chest dramatically, as if he’s seconds from fainting, and his voice wobbles with pure tragedy.
“Do you not love me anymore?” he blubbers, eyes shining with tears. “Why do you never choose me? Have I done something wrong? Do you know how long it’s been since you’ve graced my chambers?” He’s practically sobbing at this point, clutching at your sleeves like some tragic hero in a soap opera.
You stand there, blinking. “Uh… dude. I… what? ”
He looks at you with the heartbreak of a thousand rom-coms. “I thought you cared about me. I thought I meant something to you…”
You’re trying to process what exactly is happening (and failing spectacularly) when you hear an all-too-familiar voice.
“Yoo-hoo~!” Floyd’s voice echoes down the hall as he appears at the other end, looking like he’s just won the lottery. He practically skips toward you, a grin stretched across his face, his shark-like teeth glinting in the moonlight.
“Shrimpy!” he calls out cheerfully, giving you an exaggerated wave. But his cheerful demeanor drops like a rock the moment he sees the traitor consort clinging to you, tears streaming down his face.
Floyd’s grin turns into a much darker smirk, and his eyes narrow dangerously. He tilts his head, sizing up the blubbering man like he’s something he might enjoy crunching on for a midnight snack.
“Oi,” Floyd says, stepping closer, voice dropping into a lower, much more menacing tone. “What’re you doin’, crybaby? Gettin’ all snotty in front of my Shrimpy? That doesn’t seem real respectful, y’know?”
The traitor consort pales instantly, his tear-streaked face going from tragic to terrified in half a second flat. “I—I was just…” he stammers, trying to find an escape route.
“You were just what?” Floyd grins, but there’s absolutely nothing friendly about it now. “You got somethin’ you wanna say to her? ‘Cause I could help you say it better, y’know.” He cracks his knuckles for emphasis, and you swear the traitor consort’s soul nearly leaves his body.
And you? You’re exhausted. Normally, you’re pretty sure the original Empress would step in, say something appropriately royal and dignified to diffuse the situation. But at this point? You’re too tired to deal with either of them, and honestly, watching Floyd scare this guy senseless is a little too satisfying. So you just sigh and cross your arms, waiting it out.
“Look, I— I didn’t mean anything by it,” the traitor consort mutters, eyes darting between Floyd’s unsettling grin and your unimpressed stare. “I’ll… I’ll just go…”
And before you know it, he’s stumbling off, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to escape Floyd’s glare. You can still hear his sniffles echoing down the hall as he disappears.
Floyd watches him go, then turns back to you with an exaggerated pout. “He didn’t even say bye. Rude, huh?” Then, just as quickly, his mood switches back, and he gives you a toothy grin. “C’mon, Shrimpy! Let’s go. You’re finally here!”
And without another word, he loops an arm around you, practically dragging you the rest of the way to his palace. By the time you arrive, you’re half-expecting him to start a monologue or make a big romantic speech, but instead, he plops down on the massive, plush couch, pulling you down next to him with surprising gentleness.
“There we go! See? Ain’t this way better than dealin’ with crybabies?” He laughs, leaning back and throwing an arm over your shoulders.
You give him a look. “Do you actually scare all of them off on purpose?”
Floyd grins, showing all his teeth. “Only the boring ones.” He taps his temple like he’s sharing some brilliant secret. “Can’t have anyone else thinkin’ they’re more special than me, right?”
Honestly, you’re too tired to argue. So you just lean back, letting Floyd prattle on about his grand plans for “getting rid of the competition.” At least, you think to yourself, you’ve successfully survived another day of being Empress.
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The banquet table stretches out in front of you, each seat filled by one of your fifteen consorts, who are locked in an elaborate battle of “who’s the cutest?” You watch, sipping your wine like it’s medicinal, as they coo, flirt, and — at least in one unfortunate case — attempt a juggling act.
A consort on your left even starts singing a heartfelt ballad he very obviously wrote himself. You silently make a note to ask Heroine if it’s possible to declare some sort of moratorium on public serenades.
Just when you think the evening can’t get any more surreal, the doors burst open. Floyd strides in, late as usual, with all the grace and subtlety of a pirate commandeering the dinner table.
Without breaking stride, he makes a beeline for the coveted King Consort chair, ignoring the man who’s been trying to occupy it and who now looks as if he’s about to faint.
Floyd’s “gentle” suggestion to move aside comes in the form of a rather forceful nudge, and the poor consort goes skidding two seats down, clutching his untouched plate of tiny hors d’oeuvres.
Floyd plops into the seat, throws his legs up on the table, and proceeds to grab a handful of grapes like he’s claiming territory.
Instantly, fifteen men start having what can only be described as a collective meltdown. One consort gapes at Floyd, cheeks puffing like an indignant chipmunk; another begins audibly hyperventilating. Somewhere on the far end of the table, a man has already shed a single, dramatic tear.
Your maid Heroine sidles up to you, wide-eyed. She whispers loudly, as if she’s sharing a forbidden secret, “Your Majesty! You’ve broken their hearts!”
You stare at her, bewildered. “How? By letting Floyd sit down?”
Heroine nods, lip quivering. “They think you’ve… chosen! That’s the King Consort’s seat!”
“What? ” You glance at Floyd, who’s now lying back, casually chomping on a drumstick he must have acquired from who-knows-where. He doesn’t seem perturbed in the least.
“Yes!” Heroine sniffles, pulling out a lacy handkerchief. “It’s the sacred chair of royal favoritism!” She dabs at her eyes, gazing at you with something akin to heartbreak. “And here I thought you were a romantic.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” You rub your temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I just wanted a quiet dinner!”
One of the consorts, evidently hearing this, begins to wail, “But why, Your Majesty? We loved you!” It’s clear he’s already going to be composing several tragic stanzas about this moment.
Then Floyd — who’s been watching this entire scene with the amused look of someone who’s just discovered he’s won the jackpot — clears his throat, aiming a rather shark-like grin at Heroine. “Hey, little miss servant girl,” he says, his voice sugary sweet with a terrifying edge. “Maybe stop making Shrimpy feel guilty, hmm? Unless you want to join ‘em in the Royal Seat Shuffle?”
Heroine squeaks, as if he’s just offered to turn her into a garden gnome, and stammers an apology, hands fluttering as she edges away.
In the silence that follows, you decide enough is enough. “Thank you all for coming,” you announce, giving your consorts a forced smile. “This has been… lovely. But we’re done for tonight.”
The consorts hesitate, as if they want to protest. But when Floyd gives them one of his very special grins — the kind that says he just might take a whole different seat next — they practically stampede out of the dining hall, leaving behind a trail of emotional debris: teardrops, wilted roses, and a half-eaten plate of pastries.
As the door closes, Floyd leans back with a smirk, throwing an arm casually over the back of his new favorite chair. “So, looks like Shrimpy’s all mine tonight.”
You chuckle, half-exasperated, half-relieved. “Well, seems you chased everyone else off.”
“Don’t be like that,” he purrs, clearly pleased. “You know, you’re different now. Last time, you’d have been practically begging those guys to come back.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I’m just too tired to care anymore.”
He leans in, gaze softening. “Nah. You’ve just gotten tougher. And it looks good on you. The new Shrimpy’s got a spine.”
You smile, almost despite yourself, as Floyd raises his glass, winking. “To the new Shrimpy: long may she rule.”
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The annual Talent Showcase Extravaganza for the Empress’s Affections has begun, and your consorts are pouring every ounce of drama and flair they possess into their performances, each desperate to secure that exclusive week at the countryside villa with you.
Unfortunately, it seems that the traitor consort — Mr. ‘I-know-the-theme-because-Heroine-can’t-resist-my-cheekbones’ — is dominating the competition. He’s wowing the audience with a perfectly themed tapestry, and you can already hear the maid giggling over in his cheering section.
This calls for drastic action.
You glance over to where Floyd is occupying himself by tormenting a pair of unfortunate ministers with tales of his more “creative” fishing techniques. With a sigh, you snap your fingers. He looks over, feigning annoyance at being interrupted in what he surely sees as “Minister Horror Story Hour.”
“Shrimpy, what gives? This is the first fun I’ve had since I got here,” he says, hands on his hips.
You clear your throat. “Actually, Floyd, I need you to… win this competition.”
He raises an eyebrow, incredulous. “What, by doing some fancy painting or something? Boring. If you want something painted, Shrimpy, I’ll fish out an octopus to do it for me.”
You take a deep breath. “If you do this, I’ll grant you any wish you want. Plus… an extra reward.”
Floyd pauses, smirking as he steps closer, his voice dropping into an exaggerated whisper. “Any wish, huh? Dangerous promise, Shrimpy.”
You raise an eyebrow, undeterred. “You in or not?”
With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he sighs. “Fine. But I’m not painting. I’ve got something much better planned. Just try not to faint in awe, yeah?”
When Floyd finally unveils his “masterpiece,” the room falls silent. Somehow, he’s cobbled together a mosaic made entirely out of shiny rocks he probably pilfered from the palace’s prize garden.
The piece is of you, looking bold and triumphant, wielding what can only be described as a “battle spoon” against some sea monster (you’re guessing it’s supposed to be a shark, but it might just be a rock that looked vaguely fish-like).
“Ta-da!” Floyd announces, throwing his arms out. “The Empress: Rock ‘n’ Roll Edition. I call it, ‘Shrimpy, Queen of the Waves.’”
Despite yourself, you’re mildly… no, very swoony. Somehow, it’s both absurd and… kind of amazing. Floyd’s grin is pure mischief as he winks at you. “Like it, Shrimpy? Don’t worry, I can make one for the garden too.”
But your moment is interrupted by a loud sniffle from across the room. The traitor consort, clearly irate at being outshone, is tearing up, looking at you with big, watery eyes as if you’re the villain in this scenario. Heroine looks one step away from bolting to his side, but he raises a hand, his voice trembling as he murmurs, “No, I only want the Empress to comfort me.”
You shoot a silent plea to the universe, practically chanting, “Please, mercy, mercy…”
Floyd, never one to ignore an opportunity, steps up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Sorry, bud. Shrimpy’s already spoken for tonight. You’ll have to get in line. Oh, and try not to tear up over her rock portrait, yeah? Not all of us can handle the majesty.”
The crowd erupts in applause, one point to you and Floyd — and you’re pretty sure Heroine’s sulking in the corner, still staring longingly at the sobbing traitor consort, but that’s a future problem. For now, you’ve got a mildly unhinged art piece to hang up and a certain mischievous consort to thank.
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It’s another late night in the study when you notice the Heroine, your ever-loyal (if not a little clueless) maid, lingering by the doorway, watching you with an odd expression. At first, you chalk it up to her usual eccentricities. But as the minutes tick by, she doesn’t move, just stands there with a faraway look in her eyes. Finally, you set down your work and gesture for her to come in.
“Hey,” you say gently, “what’s on your mind?”
She hesitates, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “It’s nothing, really…” Then, in a small voice, “It’s just… I never got to study like this.”
Your brow furrows, and as she opens up, the full picture starts to form. The Heroine, despite her noble blood, was barred by her father from studying—her dreams of an education crushed under his outdated beliefs.
She clung to the traitor consort, she confesses, because he seemed like an escape, even if a flimsy one. He was a nobleman with some level of authority, and for her, he felt like the only ticket to a different life.
Understanding sinks in. It’s not love she feels for him at all. It’s desperation, something almost like a distorted version of Stockholm syndrome.
She’s convinced herself he’s her only way out, though it’s clear as day that he doesn’t deserve her loyalty. The man’s barely got two brain cells, but he’s got freedom—and for her, he must have looked like her only way out.
The realization hits you hard, like finding out your favorite dessert is made with broccoli. No wonder she’s been swooning over that guy. She’s not “in love”—she’s just starved for any path out of her cage. Your heart softens, and you give her a gentle, if slightly exasperated, smile.
“Well, that won’t do,” you say firmly. “How about this? I’ll teach you myself. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll get you the education you deserve.”
Her face goes through a series of hilarious expressions, from shock to joy to the kind of wide-eyed, wobbly-lipped excitement normally reserved for puppies seeing their owner after a long day. And so, your lessons begin.
Over the next few weeks, you teach the Heroine to read, and she devours each lesson like a kid in a candy store. She’s throwing herself into her education with such energy, it’s like she’s forgotten the traitor consort entirely.
And you’re thrilled—partly for her growth and partly because it means your coup odds have just dropped by a solid 90%.
Soon, Heroine’s loyalty to you is ironclad, her former starry-eyed infatuation with the traitor consort completely extinguished. You’re so relieved you could dance, and, maybe more importantly, you realize that the kingdom’s other daughters deserve the same chance.
In a flash of imperial inspiration, you draft a new law requiring all daughters, noble or otherwise, to attend the academy. The state will foot the bill, so no one has an excuse to hold their daughters back.
Later that night, feeling unexpectedly sentimental, you return to your room to find Floyd sprawled on your bed, grinning like he’s just heard the world’s juiciest gossip.
“You look smug,” you say, arching an eyebrow.
“Nah, just… pleased,” he drawls, giving you that signature mischievous smirk. And before you know it, he pulls you into a surprisingly tight hug, his arms wrapping around you with unexpected warmth. “Look at my Shrimpy, changing the world one law at a time.”
A blush creeps up your cheeks despite yourself. “Oh, stop it,” you mutter, though you don’t pull away.
He chuckles, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “Nah. You’re doing great, Empress. I’m proud of you.”
You’re speechless. Floyd? Sentimental? But as he holds you, laughing at your stunned expression, you can’t help but feel a little…smitten.
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You’re reviewing reports in the study, savoring the rare, blissful calm, when the double doors burst open like some villain from a badly written romance novel. There stands the traitor consort, dressed in what looks like…a suit made of loose, strategically placed peacock feathers, a sequined sash, and—oh, yes—face glitter.
He strikes a pose, does a dramatic hand flip, and announces, “Behold! My love for you is eternal, as boundless as the stars, and as bold as my outfit!”
You're thinking about ordering Floyd to chase him out with a chair, when you catch Heroine’s expression—somewhere between horror and volcanic rage.
With a fierce gleam in her eye, she steps in front of you, looking like she’s about to deliver an exorcism. “You…” she begins, her voice so cold even the peacock feathers on his shoulders look like they might molt in fear. “You miserable, egotistical, fashion-disaster-in-waiting!”
He’s stunned, blinking like a child caught sneaking candy. “W-what? Heroine, you used to help me with my plans!”
“Yeah, well, that was before I got a brain cell,” she snaps. “I actually know my worth now, and it’s definitely not tied to whatever fever-dream cape situation you’ve got going on.” She points to his glittering sash. “What, did you rob an arts-and-crafts store on the way here? Do you know who you’re talking to?”
He stammers, visibly shrinking, feathers quivering with fear. “Y-you were always there for me…”
“That was when I was too naive to realize you were the human equivalent of a trash fire!” She’s in full swing now, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, spitting out insults that would make the court jester blush. “Please, the Empress has standards, and you’re down there with questionable cabbage soup.”
He reels back, totally caught off-guard. By this point, you’re honestly not sure if you should applaud or slowly back away.
With a smirk, you lean forward and say, “Well, since you’re dressed for the occasion, why don’t you strut that ridiculous ensemble back to your own country?”
He opens his mouth, gapes like a fish, and finally closes it, completely defeated. Without another word, he shuffles out, feathers dragging behind him in a sad little pile.
The second he’s out of earshot, you sigh, look up, and thank the universe for finally sparing you from that headache. The Heroine just dusts her hands off, grinning like she’s just won the greatest battle of her life, and you’re suddenly very aware of just how terrifyingly competent she’s become.
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Floyd has been hounding you about his reward for days now, showing up at all hours with the persistence of a cat at dinner time. You’re mid-sentence in a policy meeting, mid-sip at dinner, even mid-bath when you hear him shout from outside the door, “Hey, Shrimpy! Remember my prize? Don’t forget now!”
Finally, in a moment of resignation, you sigh and wave him in. “Fine, Floyd. What do you actually want?”
He grins, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that should probably have you worried. “Make me king consort.”
You open your mouth, ready to laugh and then say something like, “No chance,” but then…you pause. Because—why not? He’s loyal, he’s your particular brand of chaos, and honestly, the idea of using it as an excuse to disband the harem is almost too good.
You’d get to tell everyone you’d found the “love of your life” and keep your mornings free of peacock-feathered declarations of eternal devotion.
“Alright, Floyd,” you say, shrugging as if you just agreed to a dinner plan and not a royal title. “You’re king consort.”
For a solid five seconds, he’s frozen, blinking like he’s not sure if you just announced the best prank of the century or an actual royal decision.
Then, with a roar of laughter, he picks you up, actually tossing you in the air like a sack of grain. “SHRIMPY, I’M KING CONSORT! WOOOO!”
Ministers nearby practically leap out of their chairs in terror, and one drops his teacup with a spectacular crash.
“Oh, and by the way,” he says, setting you down but keeping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t think I forgot—I still get that week alone with you in the countryside. Just you, me, and the great outdoors.”
You’d expected to feel dread, but instead…you’re kind of excited? Because it turns out, when there’s no glittered consort in sight, Floyd’s brand of mayhem might just be exactly what you needed.
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You’re slumped on the throne, staring into the void as a minister drones on about the scandalous rise in scarf-wearing among the commoners.
The man is red-faced and foaming at the mouth as if he’s narrating the downfall of civilization itself instead of just… knitted accessories. With each drawn-out sentence, your urge to grab his own scarf and dramatically tie it around his face grows stronger.
“And, Your Majesty, don’t you agree that such… frivolousness undermines the dignity of the empire?” he sputters.
“Uh-huh,” you mumble, one mental toe dangling into the sweet abyss of existential crisis. How did your life get to this point? Did the previous Empress really deal with scarf politics? You contemplate just passing the crown to the nearest potted plant. Surely it couldn’t do worse.
Then, like a savior bathed in sunlight, Floyd appears. He slinks in casually, eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of glee and malice. He takes one look at Wedgeworth’s scarf-induced fervor and rolls his eyes. “Oh, I see the scarf issue is really eating away at the Empire,” Floyd deadpans, clearly unamused at the absurdity.
The minister stammers, blinking like he’s never been interrupted in his life. “Well, actually, I was explaining to Her Majesty—”
Floyd raises a hand. “I’ll take it from here, Lord Scarfington. Very urgent royal matters, wouldn’t want to keep the Empress from them, now would we, hmm?”
The ministers exchange horrified looks, but when Floyd locks eyes with them, his expression darkens into a gaze that could probably scare the teeth off a shark. Ministers shuffle out, muttering about “the sanctity of scarves” and how they “never liked those shellfish folk anyway.”
When you’re finally alone, you look at Floyd, and he gives you a grin. “Come on, Shrimpy, I’ve got a surprise.”
He leads you through a series of narrow, winding hallways you didn’t even know existed until you arrive at a small, hidden courtyard surrounded by high walls and shaded by some flowering trees.
In the middle of it is a picnic spread that looks… questionable. There’s food you don’t recognize: odd, glistening items that could pass as snacks in a very brave galaxy.
“I brought some delicacies from the Coral Sea,” Floyd announces, looking way too proud. “I even cooked some of this myself.”
You smile, hoping he means the less suspicious dishes, but as you take a bite of one of the “unique” items, you immediately realize your error. It’s a taste explosion, and not in a good way; you’re fairly certain you just ate something alive. Floyd’s already laughing, watching you try to hold back a gag.
“Oh, that’s rich, look at your face!” He claps his hands, doubled over with laughter.
But then you try the food he actually cooked, and it’s… it’s really good. Your eyes widen. “Floyd, you didn’t tell me you could cook!”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Guess you just have that effect on me, Shrimpy.”
As you eat, you feel the weight of scarf debates and mundane ministerial crises slip away. Floyd’s teasing you about your reaction to the Coral Sea snacks, you’re pretending to smack him, and somewhere between the laughter and the food, you realize you’re completely relaxed. You’re even… happy.
Then he casually picks up a pillow, eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, Shrimpy,” he says slowly, “bet I can take you down.”
“Bring it, fish-boy,” you fire back, grabbing a pillow.
A feather flies. Then another. In no time, the two of you are engaged in a full-on pillow war, feathers floating through the air in chaotic puffs. You swing a pillow with all your might, narrowly missing Floyd, who dodges and counters with a playful shove, sending you sprawling onto the blanket, laughing so hard you’re almost crying.
In the flurry of feathers and laughter, you realize just how much you care about him. And as if reading your mind, Floyd suddenly stops, pinning you down, his face hovering just inches above yours. His usual playful grin fades into something softer, more serious, and you find yourself staring up at him, completely captivated.
You kiss him, right there, surrounded by scattered feathers and half-eaten snacks. “I think I’m in love with you, Floyd,” you whisper.
He grins, looking almost smug. “Knew you’d come around eventually, Shrimpy. You’re a smart one.”
You roll your eyes, laughing, and pull him into another kiss, feeling lighter than you have in ages. Whatever royal nonsense tomorrow brings, you know you’ve got him—and for now, that’s more than enough.
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Vacation plans with Floyd start out so simple in theory, but the minute he said, “Countryside? Nah, Shrimpy, we’re going under the sea,” you just nodded because, hey, you did promise a reward. Plus, how bad could it be?
Bad, it turns out, is relative. Upon arrival, Jade, Floyd’s brother, gives you a grin that says welcome, poor soul. “So, my brother’s finally gone and gotten himself an Empress. How unexpected,” he says with a glint in his eye that suggests he’s got a bet running on how long you’ll last.
But you’ve barely survived Jade’s interrogation when Azul, Coral Sea’s resident business octopus, swims up with an entire briefcase of contracts and a grin that spells danger.
“Welcome, Your Majesty! I thought we might discuss a mutually beneficial agreement,” he says smoothly, his tone so charming you almost miss that the contract slides in a 50-year lease on your kingdom’s fishing industry.
“So that’s how it is here,” you think, snapping back to business mode. You haggle until both sides are happy, but the second you reach across to shake Azul’s hand, Floyd swoops in, sighing dramatically. He grabs your hand, practically prying it out of Azul’s. “Alright, Shrimpy, enough time with the fish dealer. You’re mine this week.”
Before you can blink, he’s thrown you over his shoulder like you’re a stray potato sack, striding away from an open-mouthed Azul and an utterly delighted Jade who looks like he's a minute away from bursting out popcorn.
By the time he hauls you to your guest room and plops you on the bed, his usual grin has given way to an expression you’ve only seen on annoyed cats. He’s holding your hand in a grip that could rival steel, not letting go even as he sulks like a kid who just lost his favorite toy.
“Floyd,” you say slowly, “is something wrong?”
He looks away, puffing out his cheeks, refusing to answer. It's downright adorable in an overgrown, slightly unhinged eel sort of way. You squint at him, reaching over to grab his face, smushing his cheeks together until he finally makes eye contact. “Hey, I can’t read your mind, Floyd. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He mutters something too low to hear, and you lean closer, arching a brow. “What was that?”
“You’re my Shrimpy,” he grumbles louder, still not meeting your eyes. “And the handshake with that fish scammer went on too long.”
It takes every ounce of self-control not to burst into laughter. “So that’s it, huh?” A laugh slips out despite your efforts, and his pout deepens, though his grip on your hand stays as firm as ever. “You silly eel,” you chuckle, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “As if anyone could match me like you do?”
That does it. His expression softens, the pout melting into that slightly unhinged, overly excited Floyd smile you know too well. “See, Shrimpy, that’s why you’re the only one for me!” he practically shouts before pulling you into a spin that has you clinging to him for dear life.
He kisses you again, and you’re so breathless you half-expect a storm outside to rise to match.
But it doesn’t matter—he’s too busy swearing up and down that he’s not letting anyone else get a “single fin” on you. And somehow, as you laugh together, it feels like you really are on a vacation you never knew you needed.
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The ceremony for crowning Floyd as your King Consort goes all-out, much to your delight—and, judging by the expressions around the room, their absolute horror. The whole throne room is so packed with flowers and banners it might as well be a festival.
You’ve made sure that this is a spectacle the diplomats and ministers will never forget. After all, the more smitten you look with Floyd, the less they’ll try to “reason” you out of it. And if they have any opinions about your choice, well, they can keep it to themselves—or they can talk to Floyd.
As you lean in to place the crown on Floyd’s head, he’s giving you a smirk so bright you swear it’s practically a stage light. The second the crown touches his head, he dips you into a kiss that is equal parts “fairytale ending” and “scandalized gasp from the old guard.” The ministers are barely holding in a collective gasp. Someone clutches their chest like they might need medical attention.
Over on the sidelines, you can see Jade and Azul clapping way too enthusiastically for the room’s mood. Meanwhile, everyone else looks like they’re watching you deface a holy artifact. You pull back with a satisfied smile, fully aware of the whispers swirling through the room.
Now, to seal this newfound reign in your own… unique way.
You turn to the front rows where your now-ex-harem stands, looking various shades of awkward and confused. These “prizes” will be going back to their respective nations, and it’s about time. “Ambassadors,” you announce, your tone absolutely oozing sincerity, “I believe you’ll be taking back your… prizes. Enjoy.”
The diplomats exchange looks, clearly unsure if they should feel insulted or relieved. You give them a regal wave and watch as they shuffle out with the ex-consorts in tow, one of whom lets out a dramatic sigh loud enough to reach the rafters.
Just as the room finally starts calming down, you glance over at the row of your ministers—many of whom look like they’d rather have run off with the consorts.
These are the ancient relics of nepotism who have only ever accomplished growing their own egos and possibly a few money-siphoning schemes. You decide now’s the time to deal with them, too.
Smiling so politely it almost looks sweet, you say, “Ministers, thank you for your service. But I’m sure you’ll understand when I say…” You pause, voice dropping to an icy sweetness, “You’re dismissed. Please kindly fuck right off.”
Several of the men freeze, as if unsure they heard you correctly. One or two start spluttering, “But—Your Majesty—this is—”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Floyd cuts in, grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re free to go! You wouldn’t want to disappoint the Empress, would ya?”
It takes a second, but the room clears of protesting ministers soon enough. Then you turn to the waiting group of young scholars, women who fought their way up to the top on pure merit, many of them owing their presence here to your recently passed education reforms. “Welcome,” you say with a genuine smile. "Your interviews will be conducted tomorrow"
Their reactions are priceless. Several tear up on the spot, whispering thank-yous so heartfelt you nearly tear up yourself. One of them murmurs, “This is a dream come true. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
You feel a swell of pride. This is what you’ve wanted to see—a competent court, fresh talent, and the chance to make a real difference. Just as you’re soaking in the satisfaction of this triumph, Floyd leans over, clearly up to something.
“You’re done now, yeah?” he asks with a conspiratorial grin.
“Uh, yes?” You've barely said the words, only for him to suddenly scoop you up and throw you over his shoulder, entirely ignoring the royal dignity of it all. The young scholars stare, completely unsure of whether to salute or run.
“Floyd!” you half-laugh, half-scold. “You could at least let me walk out on my own!”
“Nah,” he says, casually strolling down the hall with you like you’re a sack of potatoes. “You’re mine now, Shrimpy. And besides, it’s tradition for the King Consort to carry his Empress, isn’t it?”
“I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” you mutter, but you wave cheerfully at everyone as you’re carried off.
As he strides out of the throne room, ignoring the horrified gasps and protests behind you both, Floyd grins. “Any more old men to fire? ‘Cause I’m having a great time.”
You shake your head, smiling. After all, you’re the Empress—who’s going to stop you now?
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Your empire has transformed. The old guard, once weighed down by nothing but scarves and scandals, has finally given way to a bright-eyed group of scholars and ministers, most of whom—much to the old ministers' horror—are brilliant young women now leading the realm.
Among them is your ex-maid, the heroine herself, newly appointed as Minister of Diplomatic Affairs and already so intimidatingly competent that foreign diplomats quake just a bit when she enters the room.
And the grandest twist of all: you declare that your successor will not be by blood but by merit. The heir to the throne will be the sharpest, most capable mind in the empire, regardless of their birth.
You’re already giddy as you imagine the ambitious parents prepping their offspring for the grueling tests you’re planning—challenges you’ll design alongside your newly assembled council.
After hours of being regal and respectable, you finally get back to your chambers, ready for a night of blissfully ignoring politics. Floyd, your beloved eel, is already sprawled on the couch like he’s conquered half the known world, arms open and ready to receive you. You practically collapse into his embrace, sighing as you burrow against him.
“So, Shrimpy,” he drawls, smirking. “Fix the whole empire yet?”
“Almost,” you laugh. “At least I’ve retired the Scarf Parliament. That’s enough for today.”
You snuggle closer, closing your eyes, and for a second, you think back to the ridiculous, drama-filled story that threw you into this life. Maybe the original author had a point, or maybe she just really liked throwing you curveballs.
Either way, cuddled up with the love of your life while your empire flourishes, you can’t help but think, yeah, she knew exactly what she was doing.
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Series Masterlist
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notlongtolove · 2 months ago
Text
in the woods
three photos. three crime scenes. three notes. slowly, then all at once, it hits you. you know these words. you’ve read these words before. why do you know these words? where have you read them before? this work is part of the little red cap series
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)
genre: fluff?
content: very brief mentions of a crime scene and blood. lit student reader helps spencer put together a clue he missed.
word count: 2.6k
note: this idea was truly so random but if you like it and are interested to see a p2 that includes her meeting the team feel free to lmk! i would love to develop this story but im having mad writers block rn lol anyways the linked poem is amazing, one of my favourites.
a line: Spencer Reid hardly swears, if ever, but the next words out of his mouth are nothing short of explicit.
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But then I was young – and it took ten years In the woods to tell that a mushroom Stoppers the mouth of a buried corpse, that birds Are the uttered thought of trees, that a greying wolf Howls the same old song at the moon, year in, year out- carol ann duffy
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Spencer’s distracted tonight. You noticed it the moment he breezed past you, pressing a distracted kiss to your cheek before disappearing into the study. Normally, you’d give him space, let him untangle the thoughts on his own, but it’s past midnight now, and you’ve decided enough is enough.
“Spence,” you call softly from the doorway. 
He doesn’t look up.
​​You take a breath and step inside, the floorboards cool under your bare feet. The study feels foreign to you. You’re hardly ever in here despite Spencer’s gentle efforts to make space for you after you’d started spending more time at his place. He’d cleared half of the mahogany desk for your own books and files—a space now claimed by a few framed photos of the two of you from last year’s Christmas market.
You’ve always preferred his bed over the confines of this room, the comfort of his sheets beneath you, his bedside table the perfect coaster for your copious cups of coffee as you slog over your essays. The study always felt too still, almost stifling. It’s the kind of quiet that breeds overthinking, though Spencer thrives in it—Especially when it’s work.
Which it does seem to be tonight, judging by the furrow of his brow and the way his hands are clasped, tense, as he pours over the file in front of him. You cross the remaining space and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, thumb moving in soothing circles. 
“Hey,” you murmur, leaning down to speak into the curve of his neck. He reaches up absently, fingers threading into your hair, but his eyes stay fixed on the contents on the desk. 
“Come to bed,” you whisper, quieter this time, softer, as though you might coax him away if you’re gentle enough. 
He murmurs something you don’t quite catch, his focus still locked on the papers. You frown, the corners of your mouth tugging downward as you try again, this time layering your voice with the soft insistence you know he can’t resist.
“Please?”
That gets him. He sighs, the sound heavy, before slowly swivelling his chair around to face you. There’s a small flicker of satisfaction in your chest—still got it, you think, though his tired eyes make it hard to fully savour the victory.
“Soon, honey,” he says, soft and apologetic, but it’s not enough for you.
“Missed you today,” you murmur, stepping closer.
He shuts his eyes for a moment, reaching out to pull you into him. His arms wrap around your waist as he presses his face into your stomach, breathing you in like you’re the first fresh air he’s had all day. And with the day he’s had, you might as well be. 
“It’s almost 1,” you remind him gently, brushing a strand of his hair back. “And you haven’t even showered.”
He makes a sound—somewhere between a groan and a half-hearted protest. Probably indignation, though he doesn’t bother to articulate it. When he finally lifts his head to look at you, your chest tightens. He looks so so tired. Handsome, always, but tonight, the weariness in his eyes is impossible to miss.
“Aw, honey,” you coo, voice soft with affection. “C’mere.”
It’s ironic, considering you’re the one climbing into his lap. The chair protests under your combined weight with a faint creak, but neither of you care. Just your presence alone is a comfort that Spencer accepts all too willingly. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you closer and burying his face into you, fingers toying with the edges of your—his shirt.
“Tough case?” you ask quietly, your fingers slipping into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
He nods defeatedly, the motion slow and heavy, like even that small acknowledgment takes too much out of him.
“He’s already—” Spencer sighs, low and weary. “Already killed three women. And the profile is… flimsy at best.”
You nod quietly, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his shoulder. Though crime-solving and criminal profiling aren’t your expertise, the weight of what he carries is never lost on you. You’ve come to know the signs all too well.
You see it in the way he comes home after cases like this—silent, drained, his body curling into yours. You hear it in his voice when his worry spills over during arguments, like the time he snapped at you for drinking too much on a night out after a brutal final. It wasn’t out of anger but fear, raw, born from the evils he sees every day. He’d never explicitly linked it to the horrors of his work, but you didn’t need to be a profiler to piece it together. 
“You’ll catch him,” you say softly, keeping your voice steady despite the knot tightening in your stomach. “You guys always do.”
Spencer sighs, releasing one hand from your waist to rub the bridge of his nose. “There’s something off,” he mutters, words tinged with frustration. “I just... I can’t figure out what it is.”
“Do you… want to talk about it?” you offer gently, watching his face for any sign of what he needs.
He manages a faint, tired smile and shakes his head. “I’d rather not,” he murmurs.
You nod, letting it go. Spencer tries, always, to keep that part of his life separate from you. But even you know some things are impossible to leave behind. Shadows don’t adhere to boundaries. They’re stubborn and heavy, sometimes seeping into the cracks of his resolve. All you can do is try your best to hold him together when that weight gets too much to bear. Leaning into him, you rest your head against his, the silence between you filled with a kind of unspoken understanding.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers after a moment, as though he can sense your quiet disappointment at not being able to do more. His arm tightens around your waist as though anchoring himself. You press a soft kiss to his temple, a quiet gesture of acknowledgement.
“Now,” you say, standing up. Spencer leans forward instinctively, unwilling to let the warmth of you go. “Shower?”
He glances between you and the desk strewn with papers, hesitation in his face. “After I—”
“Nope,” you interrupt, grabbing both his hands and gently pulling him to his feet. “I’ll handle this,” you say, gesturing to the chaos on the desk. “You,” you point toward him, then toward the bathroom, “Shower. Now.”
Spencer lets out a long-suffering sigh, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “Bossy,” he teases softly.
“Maybe,” you reply, a playful glint in your eyes. “But you love me.”
Without missing a beat, Spencer wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your lips. “Wow,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tone warm and teasing. “Bossy and smart. How did I get so lucky?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling, nudging him lightly toward the bathroom. “Go,” you say, laughing. “Before I add ‘violent’ to that list.” At that, Spencer tears his arms away from your waist, holding his hands up in mock surrender as he backs slowly toward the door. “Go!” you laugh again, shaking your head at him before turning your attention to the desk strewn with papers.
You turn your attention back to the desk surveying the organized chaos, trying to piece together how he usually files them. The thin sheets—pale and slightly crumpled—belong in the manila folder. The thicker briefs, stapled neatly, go in the black case. And the photos…
Huh. 
Your hand pauses mid-reach, brow furrowing as your eyes fall on the glossy prints. You tilt your head. Something about them feels—almost… familiar, maybe. You stop to lay them out side by side, studying them more closely. 
Three photos. Three crime scenes. Three notes. 
The first note reads, ‘I burn.’ The words are scrawled haphazardly, the letters jagged and uneven.
The second is darker, more ominous, ‘Your knife.’ Its edges marked by splatters of blood.
The third is the most unsettling of all. Just two words. ‘All alone.’ Stark and final. 
Slowly, then all at once, it hits you. 
You know these words. You’ve read these words before. 
Why do you know these words? Where have you read them before?
It gnaws at you. The exhaustion you felt earlier is long gone as you find yourself sinking into Spencer’s chair. Your fingers trace the edges of the prints as you try to piece together your fragments of memory. You don’t know how much time has passed since you first laid eyes on the photos until Spencer calls to you from the bedroom.
“In here,” you answer absently.
When he steps into the doorway, your heart flutters despite yourself. He’s a sight to behold—hair damp, shirt slightly clinging to his chest, a towel draped over his shoulders as he dries his hair.
“Hey,” he says, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Why’re you still in here?”
“Got distracted,” you murmur, gesturing to the desk.
“Intriguing, huh?”
“She definitely is,” you reply, almost without thinking.
“I don’t know when he’ll strike next—” he starts, then stops abruptly. His expression shifts, his gaze sharpening as he looks at you. 
“What’d you just say?”
“Hm?” You blink, finally meeting his eyes.
“You said ‘she’s’ intriguing,” he repeats, stepping closer now. “You think the unsub’s a she?”
“Isn’t she?” you say, frowning at the question. “I could definitely use a lot of other words to describe her, but…” your voice uncertain.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, the poems, for one—I mean, they’re all about hurt and enraged women,” you explain. “And signing off with them? That’s definitely not not intriguing…” You trail off, puzzled by the sudden gravity of the conversation. 
Spencer goes rigid, every muscle in his body locking up. “Poems?” 
“Yeah,” you say, your voice small now, “The notes. They’re all closing words of Duffy’s poems. I thought you—Did you not…” 
Your words trail off as you see his face harden, eyes widening as the weight of your words hits him. 
“Oh my god.” Your hands fly to your mouth as the realization hits you, the pieces suddenly falling into place. “You didn’t know.”
Spencer Reid hardly swears, if ever, but the next words out of his mouth are nothing short of explicit. He’s already moving towards the desk, the towel falling unnoticed to the floor. “Show me,” he says, urgency in his voice. You get up quickly, wanting to make room, but he stops you. “No, you sit,” he says, eyes locked on the notes. “Show me.”
“Okay, okay.” You steady yourself before pointing to the first note. “Um, look, this one, ‘I burn.’ It’s from her poem Warming Her Pearls. She’s a maid who secretly pines for her mistress. She loves her but, well, she can’t be with her cause they’re from different societies.” You look up at him expectantly. “It’s about class inequality and…”
“Unrequited love.” Spencer finishes gravely, his voice low but certain.
“Right, exactly.” You glance up at him, searching his face for understanding. Spencer nods, taking it in, and you move on to the next. 
“And then this one, ‘Your knife.’ It’s from Valentine. The speaker, she doesn’t want the usual valentine gifts, so she gives an onion instead. But… she says it’ll make the receiver cry, because well, onions do that. It’s a basically a metaphor for love, how—” You take a deep breath, your throat tightening. “How dangerous it can become.”
Spencer stays quiet, but his eyes are fixed on you. His hand finds your back, giving a reassuring, gentle rub.
You hesitate before pointing to the last note. “And this one, ‘All alone.’” You swivel the chair around to face him fully, the tension in your chest growing. “I wasn’t sure about the first two, but when I saw this, I knew.”
“Little Red Cap,” Spencer finishes for you, his voice tinged with self-reproach. “Your favourite. God, why didn’t I see this?”
You nod, your voice softening. “Yeah. The opening poem of The World’s Wife. She uses Red Riding Hood to explore growing up, losing innocence and… well, you know the rest.”
Spencer’s lips press into a thin line as he nods grimly. “The wolf represents someone older, predatory. A lover.”
“Yeah, and she uh,” you say, barely a whisper. “She kills him.”
Spencer’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “How did I not—How’d you—” If the situation weren’t so dire, you might have joked about never expecting to hear those words from Spencer Reid. Instead, you force a shrug, casual, as if your analysis hadn’t just reshaped everything. “TA-ed a few classes on Duffy,” you say grimly.
The silence stretches, heavy and charged, until Spencer crouches down in front of you. His sharp eyes soften as they meet yours. “You’re… you’re incredible, you know that?” His tone is low, reverent. He presses a brief, warm kiss to your forehead before standing, running a hand through his still-damp hair. Then his expression shifts, eyes darkening with urgency. “I need to make a call.” 
You nod silently, still curled up in his chair. You don’t trust your legs to carry you to the bed that’s one room over, not right now. Spencer steps away, his phone already pressed to his ear. It takes only a few moments before he starts speaking.
“Hotch,” he begins, “I think the unsub is a woman.”
The reply on the other end is muffled, but you can follow the conversation through Spencer’s responses.
“Poems, yeah—Carol Ann Duffy,” he says, pacing a few steps. “We’ve been looking for patterns in the wrong places.”
He pauses, listening, before adding, “How’d I—? Just… from a friend.”
His tone is careful, protective. You know Spencer doesn’t want his team knowing about you. When Spencer told you he wanted to keep his professional and personal lives separate, you didn’t understand at first. But after he’d opened up about what happened to his boss—how it shattered everyone—you stopped pushing. You understood then why he was so insistent on drawing those boundaries, even if it meant staying in the shadows of his world. 
You watch him, eyes tracing the way his jaw clenches, the restless motion of his fingers. “This is the lead we need. What—No, we don’t need to bring them in.” ​​You can see the moment his patience snaps.
“What we need is to focus on her work—her themes, her voice. It’ll give us insight into the unsub’s mindset. No, I—” Spencer’s tone sharpens, frustration creeping in as he rakes a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. 
“I know this is important, I’m not saying it isn’t—” He stops mid-sentence, the voice on the other end cutting him off. His lips press into a thin line, and he exhales through his nose, fingers pinching the bridge. “Fine,” he mutters, his tone tense but resigned. 
“Okay.” He pauses for a beat, “We’ll—she’ll be there.”
As he hangs up, Spencer turns back to you, his expression carefully guarded. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks, tentative.
You have two lectures. “Nothing,” you say, the word slipping out easily. He frowns, uncertain. 
“Kristoff’s out sick, and Burton doesn’t care about attendance anyway,” you quickly lie. The tension in his face eases just slightly, but you can still see the hesitation in his eyes.
“Right, um, my boss,” You can sense a hint of nervous energy in the way he shifts his weight. “He wants us in at 8, sharp. I’ll drive.”
The apology is clear in his expression as he crouches down, taking your hands in his. “I know this isn’t exactly what you signed up for,” he says, his voice quieter now. “But... I know he wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” 
A simple, quiet “I know” is all you can manage.
You can tell he feels bad about dragging you into this. You definitely hadn’t imagined this would be your introduction to his world either—messy, intense, and impossibly heavy. And from this brief glimpse, you’re not sure if you’re ready for it after all.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!
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solaireverie · 10 months ago
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op81 | best he'll ever write
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summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later
faceclaim: gracie abrams
author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!
[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others
geotag: melbourne, australia
yourusername short break down under 🐨
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user great race at the australian gp y/n!
↪ user first points of the season let's goooo
↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌
logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺
↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤
↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂
user the puppy is so adorable 🥺
↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets
oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...
↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉
↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭
↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺
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oscarpiastri has added to their story
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seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others
you replied to oscarpiastri's story
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!
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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺
↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it
oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍
↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤
user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀
↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜
↪ user hello what 😳😳😳
↪ user oh my sweet summer child...
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liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.
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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐
↪ yourusername 🤭
↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this
yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍
↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭
↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle
williamsracing signed copy when 😏
↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡
user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀
↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind
↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝
↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂
↪ logansargeant what???
↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality
↪ yourusername lando... 😒
user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?
↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3
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aurynsia · 2 months ago
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Like The Movies
Sirius Black x Bookworm!Reader
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——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
Summary: You meet a mysterious man in a bookshop who falls for your sunshine personality…
Warnings: Nothing serious (pun intended), grumpy x sunshine dynamic, Marlene once again being the best wingman (it’s a tradition atp), reader is referred to as a girl with she/her pronouns, reader is oblivious to Sirius’ flirting.
Word count: 0.7K
Masterlist
A/N: I couldn’t get this meet cute idea out of my head so I had to write it! Basically all fluff and no plot, Sirius just thinks you’re adorable <3
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
Ding!
The bell above the bookshop’s door rang in an echoing call as you stepped inside, a giddy smile spread across your face. You had finally finished your summer reading list, with a chilled breeze marking the end of your book-buying ban.
Preparing to hibernate in your cosy bedroom with a stack of classics, you skipped your way through the aisles to the counter of the store’s joint cafe.
Ordering a hot drink to keep off the chill of the midday breeze, you flashed a grateful grin at the blonde behind the counter as you rounded the aisles, making a beeline for the classic fiction.
You stumbled through the maze of novels, making mental notes of each book you had already read. You found yourself passing three aisles before you discovered a title you didn’t recognise.
Lifting the book to flick through the pages, your gaze intuitively lifted at the presence of someone further down the aisle.
That’s when you saw him.
A dark stroke of hair dropped down his shoulders, collecting in sweet spirals at his chest. His bright eyes held a dark splash of mischief in their depths as he towered over the shelves. His gaze was focused on the book in his hand, eyes flicking over the blurb on the back cover.
Peering over with curiosity, your eyes lit up at the title on the front as he flipped the book in his hands. “That’s my favourite! I’ve read it six times,” you blurted at the mystery man.
His gaze flicked to yours in an instant, a flash of surprise gracing his features before he relaxed into a soft smirk at the sight of you. “Would you recommend it, Dove?” He spoke with a lighthearted and teasing tone as he leisurely stepped closer to your ecstatic self.
“Absolutely! It’s a masterpiece, the author is so talented! You should totally read it,” you rambled, not catching the amusement mixed with adoration in the stranger’s eyes as he watched you.
His head tilted to the side like a curious puppy, listening intently as you gushed over the plot, the characters, the handsome romantic lead, and the optimistic heroine.
He slyly reached for a second copy of the same book on the shelf as you spoke, tucking it under the one already settled in his grasp. You were in your own world at this point, and the man couldn’t help but fluster at your adorable excitement over words on a page. What is this girl doing to me? he mentally asked himself.
She’s got me wrapped around her finger and she doesn’t even know it.
He was beginning to grow soft.
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
You eventually remembered to introduce yourself after a series of rambled facts about the book tumbled out of your mouth. The stranger found you to be the most endearing creature he’d ever met.
“I’m-“
“Sirius? Y’Iced latte’s ready!” He hurried over to the blonde behind the counter who finished his sentence, flashing you an apologetic smile over his shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks.
Marlene’s gaze fell on the books held tightly in his hands with an arched eyebrow. “Sirius Black, reading a book? My, I thought I’d never see the day!” He laughed while motioning for her to keep her voice down, leaning in closer while you browsed.
“It seems I’ve taken a liking to the little bookworm over there, wriggled her way right into my heart,” he motioned towards you with a smirk as Marlene spots you curiously reading the blurbs of various classics. “Said this was her favourite,” he held up the books in his hands with an uncharacteristically bashful smile, brushing the gesture off nonchalantly. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her I was buying it for Moony’s birthday.”
Marlene rolled her eyes, passing him his drink along with a napkin and a pen. “You’re hopeless, Black, really,” she whispered, turning around to pick up another order.
His eyes lit up at the sight of the pen, “You really do know me well, Marls! And to think I only keep you around for the coffee,” he quipped, though his tone held no bite. He scribbled on the napkin before Marlene passed your drink into his grasp, sending her a final look of gratitude before turning back to you.
“Here you go, love. Now, what was that sequel about again? What happens next?” You glanced up as he handed you your drink with a sweet grin, oblivious to the napkin sitting on top with a phone number scrawled across it, waiting to be discovered as you launched into an explanation with a giggle.
“Wait- no! I can’t tell you, spoilers!”
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
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