#they might have gone to work the mines
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adastra121 · 7 days ago
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Oh, those are cute!
I’d guess “swan” for Luneth (Unnamed) for her elegant appearance and graceful way she carries herself. It’s more likely that he refers to her as such to another person, similar to calling Mhin a “dove” when talking about them to MC, instead of calling her that upfront. He might also call her a “lark” or some kind of songbird for her affinity for music.
I thought of “canary” for Alon (Hound), mostly for her role as a fail run MC. Their feathers are bright, their song is loud, and their deaths mark a dangerous path one should not travel. But since Ais probably isn’t aware of that, “magpie” might be fitting since they’re a thief with a penchant for shiny things.
“Sparrow” seems pretty fitting for Jin (Alchemist) — a small bird that’s mostly unassuming, looking like it’s one sudden move away from taking flight. If Ais were to give him a different nickname, though, I can see him calling Jin a “hummingbird” for his love of flora, his anxious demeanour (with hummingbird hearts beating super fast) and his habit of humming to himself as he works.
Quick question for the Touchstarved fandom!! As much as we love Ais calling us 'Sparrow,' I have to ask - if you had to decide, what other bird nickname do you think he would call you/your MC? :O
For example, Ais would my Unnamed MC Daniella 'bluebird,' while he'd call my Alchemist MC Edgar 'crow' (and another OC I'm planning, Shinju, 'woodpecker!')
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suddencolds · 7 months ago
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.~
#not a vent just a journal entry (feel free to scroll past; there is no snz here and this is also not that interesting)#realizing now that i never thought of myself as#someone whose absence would register to others in any other way than just neutral/detached recognition?#phrasing this really badly and i am truly going to delete this later bc it is embarrassing LOL#i think when i was young and posting all this fic into questionable places (the f*rum) i was like#(@ an unfinished work of mine) no way anyone could be bothered by these cliffhangers 👍 they can just imagine the ending#even though i would frequently be bothered by other people's cliffhangers. that exact same principle just wouldn't apply to me in my head#and when i did not respond to people i was like.. i'm sure i wasn't really an important part of their lives so they won't mind it#if i stepped away?#i never really entertained the concept of people missing me or looking forward to my responses 😭 i never thought of myself as someone worth#missing... so when i disappeared it was always with little to no sense of guilt. i think even now i struggle with#seeing myself as someone that inhabits like a tangible enough space in other people's lives that my absence would be felt#(and i don't mean that in a morbid way. and i do recognize that it's quite hypocritical)#on the flipside of things i frequently miss people and look forward to their responses. and sometimes i wonder like#do they all know? do they all know that i miss them because they somehow understand this aspect of human nature better than i do?#or are they in the dark like i am? are these things assumed or are they only known when they are said... 😭#i am a little bit of a coward so i am not saying anything (also because can you even say this kind of thing to someone??#i would probably die of embarrassment) but#how strange it is to have someone suddenly inhabit a space in your life that is substantial enough that#when they're gone you feel that space open up and you miss them#the few times in my life people have conveyed that sentiment to me i remember feeling puzzled that my presence could have that kind of#weight to them. i think my problem is that i purposefully do not read between the lines if the conclusion is something favorable towards me#because i don't want to bank on something good that might or might not be true 😭 anyways this is way too long already. if you read this#then good morning or goodnight
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doostyaudi · 3 months ago
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Sigh i hate being on yt
#vent#I said i was gonna make a 4k sub special. But quite frankly i get get myself to work on it#Im not fixated on sprunki as much. I still like it but my motivation is gone#My adhd has been rlly bad recently and im bouncing around like crazy#I never expected to get 4 thousand ppl to follow me. That's so many ppl#I missed when ppl didn't expect so much from me. I missed when ppl were ok with me only making an animation like. Once every 3 weeks at most#Missed when i didn't have so many eyes on me. This is so stressful#'dw im still working on the 4k subscriber special!' a fucking lie#Cuz i don't want ppl to hates me. I don't want to loose fans. And im pretty sure nobody cares ant sprunki anymore so i don't think its gonna#Get any attention anyways#Holds my head#I hate yt i hate what it's done to me. I wish i could go back in time and stop myself from uploading that stupid twiddlefinger animation#I HATE IT HERE IM SO TIRED. I.M LITERALLY JUST SOME GUY WHO LIKES TO ANIMATE. IM NOT UR ENTERTAINER#How do ppl deal with this. I hate it. I hate it i hate it i hate it. I would delete my channel if i didn't have a petrifying fear of#Having something of mine being lost media#I love all those who truly love my work. But those who expect me to upload stuff that they only like forever and ever is less than the#Number of genuine fans. I can't keep doing this. I might need a break again. Im spiraling again#Im sorry. Im so tired. I rlly am. I missed whenever i only had 600 subs.#Sigh. Ok im done#text#text post
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flame-shadow · 1 year ago
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today has been a good day. started earlier than usual and didn't follow the typical routine, but for once, that wasn't a bad thing. I got some sculpting done, I streamed a game with some cool folks, I handled some obligations. I have a few more things to do today, and there are a few things that I wrote down which won't get done, but that's okay. it's been a good day
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hotroadkill · 11 months ago
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today 2 years ago i was in america and i had the worst hangover of my life and i was in a waffle house with my friend in awkward silence bc we’d fought in a stranger’s kitchen the night before and the server refilled my water for the 5th time while i fought to swallow half a forkful of hashbrowns and she said “i know that look, y’all had a good time at the superbowl last night” and i was thinking actually we had a mediocre time at a nerd bar where u throw darts and all the drinks r named weird things and anyway my friend gives the fakest laugh ive ever heard followed by “yep we sure did” like are we in a CW show right now what was that line delivery and also what even is the superbowl i was born here and should know but honestly i’ve always just pictured everyone gathering at a comically large bowl of cereal but her nametag says leslie and she’s really nice and she’s refilling my water for the 6th time so yeah sure whatever i’m a red blooded american i’ll be anything for leslie in this moment anything and she tells us stories about working at bars downtown and my friend tells me bad jokes and i feel a little better even though my heart is kind of withering away because my flight is in 17 hours and theres not enough time never enough time i won’t see him for another year and a half and i won’t ever see leslie again and if i ever run into the italian stranger who fell in love with me over darts then it won’t be the same because we won’t be dancing and i’m sitting in a waffle house while the sun sets and i’m sweating gin and tequila and my flight is in 16 hours and i have so many goodbyes to say in this
city because when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out much less back together but i feel like ive been trying for eight years all the same and my flight is in 15 hours but maybe if my friend brings me home now i can spend three of those looking for more shards even though i’ll cut my hand because time never wore down any of the hurt because time might heal wounds but it cant really do jack shit about a metaphysical glass shard its still gonna make me bleed and my friend brings me home and we curl up beside each other in my childhood bedroom thats too small for us it was really a supply room but it became my bedroom when i was eleven and i painted it blue and put up stickers of fish and never took them down but someone someday will take them down and hopefully the house burns to the ground before anyone can touch them theyre mine i grew up here theyre mine dont touch them dont please dont please please please i grew up here and my flight is in 12 hours now because i fell asleep beside my friend and he let me because he knew i needed it he kept watch even though we dont have time we never do because he has to go now and all i can give him is a hug and my hoodie to keep safe until i can see him again and fight him in a stranger’s kitchen again and the sun is gone now and i go and i sit with my dad and my flight is in 10 hours and im trying
not to cry im trying to stare at the stickers because maybe if i look at all of it hard enough i’ll get to stay but i dont because thats not how it works and now my flight is in 4 hours because i fell asleep in my childhood loft bed and now i have to leave i have to pack up and go for the fifth time and it never never gets easier and i know i only have a few more trips left until someone takes my stickers down and paints over my ocean but for now my best friend’s stepmother comes with me and my dad to the airport because my best friend is in college two states away and my flight is in 3 hours and i cry i cry so much and she cries too because she loves me and i think it is such a beautiful blessed thing that i am so loved but oh it is so painful too because i spend more time in its absence than its presence and my flight is in 2 hours and i have to go and my dad is waving goodbye and i see it because i looked back because im stupid i always look back i never look forward i’m forever walking blind through my life because i’m looking back and i can tell my dad is crying and now i have to go through TSA sobbing and it’s awkward because they ask are you okay kid and im not but i cant tell them sorry its just that when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out i cant tell them that so i nod yes im okay and i go and my flight is in 1 hour and i hope it fucking crashes and my flight is in the air and im so far away from all those shards on the kitchen floor now but they’re hurting me all the same and i think i look kind of insane sobbing in the middle seat but how can i miss so many people and so many rooms at once and not lose my mind a little bit? i was going to tell you a short witty little joke about the time i realized i was 21 and didnt know what the superbowl was but i think i slipped on a shard. i’m sorry. maybe next time i’ll get it right. maybe in another two years. maybe you’ll never see me again. maybe this is all the time we had.
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lotus-acid-trip · 3 months ago
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hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰
feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️
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“I approve of this one.”
Telemachus x Reader
[Epic The Musical]
oneshot
fluff
This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!
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Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.
His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.
A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”
Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.
“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“
“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.
Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.
“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.
“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.
The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”
“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.
Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.
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The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more. 
Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“
“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.
You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.
Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.
“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”
“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.
You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“
A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”
“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.
“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.
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nerdlvr · 4 months ago
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wedding night w mark
(MDNI)
mark x reader , newlyweds , first time , shy sex , desperate mark , shaky nervous mark , husband material mark ofc , sappy romantic love , missionary, slow sensual sex , kisses lots of kisses, unprotected sex womp womp , requested here , not proof read since i am unofficially but officially coming back
sounds of quiet giggles and rushed kisses filled the hallways of the venue. you and mark crashing into every wall trying to keep your lips connected. mark groaned as he bumped his leg into a flower pot,
“shhh mark they’re gonna hear us!”
mark laughed as he brought he hands forward to cup your face, quickly planting a loud kiss on your lips,
“my love, we’re the guests of honor, i think they’ve noticed we’re gone by now.”
yes, of course the guest have noticed, who wouldn’t notice the newlyweds slipping away for some much deserved alone time.
somehow between kisses you and mark had found your way into an empty bedroom, hopefully it wasn’t one of your guest’s rooms, because by the end of tonight it would be ruined.
mark was quick to drag you towards the bed, giggling as you tripped on the ends of your puffy dress. he sat at the edge of the bed placing you in between his open legs, admiring you.
“you look like a princess, my princess.”
you smiled down at him cupping his face with your hands before planting a soft kiss to his lips,
“your wife mark, not a princess.”
he giggled into your light kisses, your lips tickling his face,
“even better baby, my wife. all mine.”
you hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face as you heard mark groan softly above you, your lips trailing down his neck.
his hands came up to hold your waist, pulling you closer into his chest,
“f-feels good baby, ke-keep going,”
you continued to work your lips on his neck, your hands coming up to loosen his tie, his buttons following soon after.
his hands held yours, stopping your movements. you leaned back to look at him, his cheeks already pretty and pink, a soft glow in his eyes,
“i want you baby, so bad. let me have you, please?”
you pecked his pouting lips, holding his hands tightly in yours,
“i’m all yours mark.”
his blush spread further down his neck, heart beating hard against his chest as he let go of your hands, reaching to unzip the back of your dress. you giggled as he struggled, a light huff escaping his lips,
“stop laughing, i don’t wanna ruin your dress!”
you reached back to help him out, immediately unzipping the dress and shrugging it off your shoulders. mark felt the air leave his lungs as you revealed yourself to him, no bra underneath, just you, bare and beautiful.
he reached forward to hold your breasts, a soft moan leaving your lips at the feeling of his cold hands,
“can i?”
you nodded quickly, gasping as he latched onto your nipple. mark thought this might be one of the best moments of his life, right after marrying you of course. he swirled his tongue around the hard bud, sucking gently to savor the taste of your skin. you threaded your fingers through his hair gently tugging at the strands.
he was quick to pull the rest of your dress down, detaching himself from your chest so that you could step out of the confines. you stood in front of him, only your white lace panties covering your core. mark didn't waste any time in picking you up, laying you down of the soft bed before kissing down your body,
"my girl's so beautiful, so beautiful baby, and all mine."
you bit your lip to hold back your whines, his soft lips leaving goosebumps on your skin as he got closer to your core. a light kiss to your clothed cunt was enough to have you whining in his grasp, a light chuckle leaving his lips,
"feel good baby?"
you nodded quickly,
"yes mark, please, keep going."
he leaned into your core, kissing the wet area lightly before slowly pulling your panties to the side. your breath was tense as you rested on your elbows, watching mark's every move. his lashes fluttered as he brought his eyes up to meet yours, his tongue poking out shyly to get a taste of you. you jerked your hips up at the sensation, moaning softly. you brought your hand up to cover your face, embarrassed by your movements. mark sucked on your clit gently, hands coming up to grip at your tits,
"don't hide baby, you're so perfect, taste so good, fuck."
all you could do was whine in response as mark dove back into your cunt, lapping at your juices like a man starved. his hands explored your body, flicking at your nipples, rubbing your waist, massaging circles into your thighs. mark meant it when he said he wanted all of you.
you felt a strange feeling in your lower belly, the muscles of your legs tightening with every flick of mark's tongue,
"mark- mark i think i'm close, oh my- please- feel like i'm gonna-"
he brought his hand down, fingers coming to rub quick circles on your swollen clit,
"it's okay, just let it go baby, i'm right here."
your toes curled as you felt the band in your stomach snap, your hips slightly rising from the bed as you chased mark's rough fingers.
"justtt like that, mhm, feels good right baby?"
you moaned in agreement, chest heaving as you relaxed back into the bed. you reached for mark's unbuttoned shirt, pulling him towards your lips. the kiss was sloppy, your muscles weak and mark's just starting to fire up. he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you up towards his chest, your core rubbing against his clothed length. you felt him grind into you, the fabric of his suit pants burning your sensitive clit. you winced at the overstimulation a whine leaving your lips as mark continued to kiss your exposed skin,
"sorry angel, can't wait anymore, need you so bad."
he reached down to his pants, shaky hands working at his belt and zipper as sweat built along his hairline. he quickly shoved his pants and shirt off, only his cheetah print boxers left on his body. you let out soft laugh, shocked by his choice of underwear. he looked down towards his crotch groaning loudly,
"shit, i forgot! haechan told me-“
“mark, those are gonna be on the floor in two seconds i dont care what stupid bet you made with haechan, please just do something.”
he was quick to take his boxers off, equally as desperate as you,
“fuck, you look so good oh my-.”
mark looked down between your legs, his cock twitching at the sight of your soaked panties, white lace practically invisible. he brought his thumb up to rub at your slit, his finger harsh against your swollen bud. you sighed at the feeling hands coming down to hold mark's length.
"shitt baby, wait- wait."
he moved your hands, taking a hold of his own length and laying it on your core. mark moaned at the sight of you, laid out in front of him perfect hair now a mess, nipples perked up and your legs tense as you waited for his next move.
he leaned down against you body, face coming to rest in your neck, his breath shaky. his hand guided his length to your entrance, panties pushed to the side.
"i love you so much baby, i swear-."
he slid into you slowly, your walls burning at the stretch. your arms wrapped around mark's back as he eased into you. his loud moans filling your ears.
"fuck, fuck, fuck- so tight, oh my-"
the feeling was strange, the slight burn leaving fast as he finally filled you completely. he moved his face from your neck, wanting to see your face,
"feel okay baby?"
you nodded quickly, blushing at the realization that your makeup was probably a mess, hair that was once neat now a mess against the sheets. mark brought his hand up to move a stray piece of hair from your face, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips,
"i've never seen anyone as beautiful as you ba- fuck, don't squeeze around me like that."
you giggled as his head fell to your chest, hands clenching your hips as he pressed his hips harder against yours. you moaned at the feeling of him deep inside you, tip kissing your cervix.
"mark, baby, please move."
he nodded against your chest, a small mhm leaving his lips as he slowly dragged his length out of you. mark was a mess, grabbing at your skin, sweat building on his entire body as he tried not the cum.
his thrusts were slow but harsh, each thrust pushing you further up the bed. he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you in place as his thrusts became quicker,
"feel s' good baby, made for me- baby you were made for me- god."
"yes, yes, yes mark, please don't stop- please."
mark thought he was losing his mind. the feeling of you squeezing around him with each thrust, your nails clawing at his back. mark wanted you to cum around him. no. he needed you to.
"come on mama-"
he moved his hand down to your core, fingers starting to rub circles on your sensitive bud.
"mark, oh my- mark feel so good, please- fuck."
he watched you squirm under him, leaning down to plant wet kisses all over your chest, his thrust and fingers relentless. his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to hold in his cum, stomach tightening as your wet pussy clenched around him, your orgasm building quickly.
you threaded your fingers through mark's hair pulling him away from your chest and towards your lips. the kiss was messy, teeth clashing as his thrusts shook you,
"i love you mark, love you so much, i want you to fill me up baby, i'm all yours mark, all yours."
your sweet words and your sweet pussy were enough to drive mark off the edge, his hands gripping you tightly as he filled you to the brim,
"shitt, y/n- fuck, you're all mine baby- fuck, love you so much."
you squeezed your legs around his waist, your second orgasm of the night making your head fuzzy. you gripped onto mark as your mouth fell into a silent moan, only the sound of mark's heavy breathing filling the room.
you winced as he slowly slid out of you, cum dripping from your core,
"you're so perfect angel, so perfect."
he placed a kiss onto your lips and then another on your cheek then your forehead, and then your lips again,
"mark-"
"i just lost my virginity to the girl of my dreams and i made her cum twice!"
you giggled as he leaned in to give you a kiss, softly pushing him away,
"i married a dork! oh my god!"
he held your hands down, kissing all over your face,
"your dork baby, your dork."
your dork indeed.
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domjaehyun · 7 months ago
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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part one
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PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader (also jeno x reader) GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 19k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. welcome back to meeeeeeee!!! i hope you enjoy this fic because i worked very hard on it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy
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how can it be you and me? might be meant to be, can’t unsee it but i don’t wanna cause no scene i’m usually so unproblematic, so independent, tell me why ‘cause the boy is mine.
You suppose your fate was sealed from the beginning. 
Even as you’re riding in the passenger seat of Yunjin’s car as she speeds down the freeway, your heart filled with a relief and fulfillment you haven’t had for the past six months, you can’t help but feel like something’s… lacking.
“So, spill,” you hear Seulgi pipe up from the backseat. “How many little British boy hearts did you break on your little Oxford trip?”
“Who says I broke any hearts?!” you exclaim with an incredulous laugh, and everyone in the car turns and gives you the same unimpressed look. “Oh, that was creepy. Did y’all plan that?”
“You were gone for six whole months and you want us to believe you got up to no romantic shenanigans? Hm?” Seulgi asks, narrowing her eyes at you, and you narrow yours right back.
“I didn’t break any hearts!” you defend yourself, and Chaewon sighs.
“Did you stow away a cute British boy in your carry-on?” she asks, and you make a face.
“Certainly not.” 
“Then there’s a broken heart floating around in Oxford as we speak!” Chaewon insists, and you scowl.
“Let me out right here.” you mutter, turning to open the door on the freeway, laughing as the other inhabitants of the car gasp and shriek in alarm. “I’m joking!” 
“You’re crazy, that's what you are.” Yunjin clarifies, and you giggle.
“I was having a laugh.” you say unapologetically. “Anyway, I didn’t really get up to too much in Oxford, really. I was focused on studying, I guess.”
“Oh, lame!” Seulgi boos, and you roll your eyes.
“I’m here now, though, so the hot girl spring and summer can commence!” you say happily, and your friends cheer. 
“Winter just texted asking if we got you off the plane okay,” Chaewon announces, and you shake your head.
“Tell her my seatbelt got stuck and wouldn’t let me out and so they took me back to England.” you suggest, and Yunjin snickers.
“Tell her the pilot got confused and took her to the wrong New York. If she asks what other New York, just be like, ‘the other one?’” she adds on, and Chaewon snorts.
“You’re both terrible.” she laughs as she types in a response.
“What’d you tell her?” Seulgi asks.
“That she got held back for getting her bag searched and they found five kilos of cocaine. So they took her out back and made her snort all of it as punishment and now she’s running amok in the city like Cocaine Bear. She’ll beat us back to the house.” 
“And we’re terrible?!” you exclaim indignantly.
“Well, yes.” Chaewon replies calmly. “Mine is obviously a lie.”
“Wh— My seatbelt getting stuck isn’t an obvious lie?” you splutter. 
“Well, that could actually happen!” she defends, and you blink at her incredulously.
“I didn’t expect the lesbian to forget that scissors exist.”
Chaewon’s jaw drops and she jabs a finger in your direction. “Homophobe!” She turns to Seulgi for support, but Seulgi just shakes her head.
“You’re alone in this one, Chae,” Seulgi giggles. “I laughed, I’m sorry.”
“Man, this is some bullshit.” Chaewon grumbles. “You’re supposed to have my back! We’re… we’re sapphic sistren!”
“You actually did not just say that.” Seulgi marvels. “Sapphic sistren is crazy.”
“I had to pull the gay card to win.” Chaewon says with a shrug. “I’m not sorry.”
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Yunjin laughs incredulously. “Jesus, it’s like if you put squirrels on a podcast.”
“We should make a podcast, actually.” Seulgi suggests, and you nod.
“We could call it ‘That’s Nuts,’” you say excitedly.
Chaewon snorts. “I’m in.”
Yunjin beeps her horn loudly, garnering all of your attention as you all jump in surprise. “We’re outside all spring and summer, right?”
“Well, after work, yeah.” you agree, and she smiles, nodding.
“I don’t want to hear you missed out on a fun fling or opportunity because you were busy working.” Yunjin jabs her finger at you accusingly, and your hands fly up defensively.
“In my defense, doing my job is way less risky than taking chances romantically.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Yunjin complains. “Live, girl!”  
“There are gonna be cute guys at the party, obviously. So I will live!” you insist, and Yunjin nods.
“That’s more like it.”
Returning to your thoughts for a moment, it dawns on you that romantic excitement is exactly what you’re lacking. You want to love; you want to love someone and be loved by that someone and for that love to be something beautiful and consuming, and you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to have to wait. 
You’re in the middle of making a mental pact with yourself to be just a bit more daring, a tad more forward and bold when it comes to love, when Seulgi and Chaewon laugh loudly at something on one of their phones, snapping you out of your internal monologue, and you shift in your seat, turning to face them.
“I can’t believe you guys left your whole apartment unattended during a house party just to welcome me home,” you sniff dramatically, and Seulgi snorts.
“Anything for you, my friend.” she replies with a playful crinkle of her nose, and you reach out to pinch it lightly.
“Besides, it’s not like it’s completely unattended! Winter’s there.” Chaewon points out, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“Right… what is her non-confrontational ass gonna do if something goes wrong?” you ask, and Seulgi winces.
“Good point. Maybe step on it, Yunjin.” 
“I’m already going twenty over the speed limit!” she exclaims defensively.
“You’re not even exaggerating,” Chaewon half-gasps, half-laughs as she leans forward to look at the speedometer. “We might make it there quicker, but we might not make it there safely.”
“We are here for a good time!” Yunjin yells, whipping her hair around excitedly. “Not a long time!”
“Deeply concerning words coming from our driver.” Seulgi snickers quietly, and you nod, turning back to sit in your seat properly. “So…”
You peer at her through the rearview mirror curiously. “So?”
“I’m just imagining Jeno’s reaction when he sees you again for the first time.” She shrugs with a faint teasing smile, and you can feel your cheeks warming as a small smile starts to tug at your lips.
Jeno’s had a thing for you for the past… year and a half—at least, that you’re aware of—and you won’t lie, he’s definitely easy on the eyes and a sweetheart to top it all off. Before you went away to Oxford, you two had built up a bit of a flirtationship that neither of you tried to push further because of your study abroad trip you had planned.
Now, however, you’re back, and you’re admittedly excited to see if it leads to something worthwhile. 
“He’ll probably do that little crescent-eyed smile he always does when you spare him a crumb of attention.” Chaewon supplies as you’re lost in thought, and you roll your eyes as Yunjin nods knowingly.
“I’m willing to bet he’s gonna try to be glued to your side all night.” she adds, and you sigh loudly and dramatically.
“You guys are really something else, you know that?”
“You love it!” Chaewon says confidently, and you can’t help but smile fondly, nodding in agreement.
“I kinda do.”
Yunjin spares you a sideways glance that lingers for suspiciously long on your frame, and you raise an eyebrow.
“My eyes are up here.” you joke, waving a hand in her line of sight, “and, more importantly, the road is over there.” She chuckles and relents, refocusing her attention on the road, but she has that telltale look on her face that usually means she has something on her mind. “What are you thinking about?”
“Well—not that I’m judging at all, because, you know… live your life, girl.” Yunjin pipes up, and you turn to look at her, curiously awaiting the rest of her thought. “But are you gonna wear that to the party?”
You look down at your comfortable sweats and hoodie, perfect airport attire, and look back up at Yunjin with a playful frown. “What, is this not cute enough?”
“Well…” she trails off, and Seulgi pops her head forward between the front two car seats.
“No! It’s not a good enough outfit! You’re the guest of honor at your own welcome home party, and you have to come harder than some cozy gray sweats with a hole by the ankle.” Seulgi scolds, and you roll your eyes with an amused smile.
“Obviously I’m not going to wear this to the party, girl.” you laugh, and Seulgi sighs in relief. “I was just messing with you.”
“Well, cut it out! You know I’m gullible.” She frowns, and you reach into the backseat to pat her hand comfortingly.
“All the more reason to mess with you, my love.” you reply with a deceptively innocent smile. “Anyway, when we get back home, I have to shower and freshen up and change into my actual outfit. I also have to sort out the presents I brought back for everyone and make sure Jeno’s cake is still in good shape.”
“I still can’t believe you baked him a cake,” Chaewon marvels. “It’s giving domestic. Housewife, even.”
“Martha Stewart found jobless,” Seulgi adds, and you snort.
“I know this is his favorite type of cake, so I just… thought I’d make it for him.” you mumble quietly with a small, dismissive shrug.
“That is very cute to me,” Yunjin says reassuringly before punching the horn roughly and making the rest of the three of you jump in surprise. “Stupid fucker doesn’t know how to use his turn signal?!”
“Yunjin, calm down,” you advise, patting her knee gently.
“I am calm,” she replies, her tone level, and you pull your hand back, still eying her suspiciously. Sure enough, as she drives by the driver that failed to use his turn signal, she rolls her window down and yells out a string of expletives that makes Chaewon gasp in horror.
As Yunjin rolls her window back up and turns the radio up, you sit back and smile, thinking about how happy you are to be back at home.
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You get home an entire eight minutes before your initial ETA, making Yunjin grin proudly when you make the announcement. 
After your friends help you bring your luggage up to your apartment, you go into the bathroom to freshen up. After the extensive process that was showering, brushing your teeth, reapplying your skincare and makeup, and applying lotion and getting dressed, you emerge, fresh-faced and victorious, into your living room where your friends lie sprawled on your couch as they wait for you. The only eyesore about your appearance is the large sack you’re carrying of presents you brought back for your friends.
“I’m ready!” you chirp happily, and Yunjin is the first to look up from her phone at you, eyes taking in your casual and comfortable yet cute attire before she nods appreciatively.
“It’s giving Santa Claus,” Seulgi chuckles, gesturing at your large bag slung over your shoulder.
“Ho, ho, ho,” you drawl with an amused roll of your eyes.  
“Stop it, Seulgi,” Chaewon scolds before focusing her gaze on you. “You look cute! Bet you-know-who’s gonna be all over you.” she says with a teasing grin, and you roll your eyes despite smiling before you set the bag down and set about getting out your gifts for your friends that are present.
You hand Yunjin a wrapped box of gorgeous shoes from an England-exclusive boutique and she sets about unwrapping it, her eyes widening with excitement as she reveals the present inside.
“Holy shit?” she gasps, gaping at the shoes. “These are perfect!”
“They’re so you,” you agree with a proud nod. “I saw them one day through a window while I was walking down the street and had to stop in and get them for you.”
“My turn, my turn!” Chaewon exclaims eagerly, bouncing in place as you root through your large sack and pull out a small wrapped box, which you hand to Chaewon carefully. She squeals in excitement once she’s opened the present, leaping up and engulfing you in a tight hug. “My perfume! I thought they discontinued it!”
“They stopped selling it in the States, but I managed to track down a store that still had some in stock, so I got you a couple—y’know, so you wouldn’t run out.” you say, smiling, and she beams at you.
“You’re the best.” she says seriously, looking you directly in the eyes to drive home her sincerity.
“I try,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before reaching into the bag once more and pulling out one last present for Seulgi, wiggling the box at her invitingly. 
“For moi?” she asks with feigned surprise, a hand to her chest.
“Indeed,” you confirm with a grin, and she sits forward, taking the gift from your hand and opening it up.
“Oh, my God.” she exhales in shock, staring down at the designer earrings and bracelet set. “These look expensive as fuck.”
“They kinda were,” you admit sheepishly. “All of your gifts were a pretty penny, actually, but you guys definitely deserve them. Those really spoke to me, and I thought they’d look gorgeous on you.”
“Thank you, my love,” Seulgi coos affectionately, standing up to engulf you in a hug. Yunjin and Chaewon join in a brief moment after, the four of you hugging tightly for a lingering, blissful moment.
“You’re all very welcome. Are we ready to go now?” you say, changing the subject with ease even as your voice is muffled into Seulgi’s shoulder, and Seulgi pulls back immediately with an emphatic nod. 
“Ready as ever! Our fridge has snacks that are calling to me from over here.”
“You’re such a drama queen.” you scoff in amusement as you all head to your front door and file out after each other.
“Must have gotten it from hanging out around you.” she replies with playfully narrowed eyes in your direction.
“Oh, really?” you challenge, biting back a laugh, and she nods, puffing out her chest comically as she chest-bumps you on purpose. “Assaulting me in the middle of my apartment complex is actually wild and unheard of, and you will be hearing from my attorney.”
“Bring it on, baby!” she urges, and Yunjin rolls her eyes in poorly concealed amusement as you two start to giggle at your antics, the sounds of mirth ringing out in the lobby as you exit the elevator.
“You two are so strange,” she remarks in wonder. “But later for that. Onto more pressing matters!”
“Such as?” you question, holding the door open for Chaewon to follow behind you into the street. 
“How long will it take us to get from our house to yours?” Yunjin asks, pulling out her phone to search for it, but Chaewon seems to be one step ahead, already focused on her phone screen.
“The travel time from here to our house,” she announces loudly, squinting at her phone momentarily, “is roughly twenty minutes.” You all stand around Yunjin’s car at your respective doors, waiting for Yunjin to unlock the car so you can get in.
“Hm, yeah? Why so long?” Yunjin asks curiously as she moves to look over Chaewon’s shoulder. “Traffic, huh? …I bet I can shave that time down to fifteen minutes.” Her eyes glint with excitement as she presses her car door remote, the sudden and loud beep-beep of the doors unlocking making you and Seulgi flinch for a moment.
“Dear Lord, help us all,” Seulgi mumbles as you all climb into Yunjin’s car, strapping in before she peels out of her parking space and zooms into the night. 
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True to her word, Yunjin precariously shaves six minutes off your travel time and you pull up to Chaewon’s and Seulgi’s apartment earlier than anticipated, exhilarated and pumped full of adrenaline. 
“Are you excited to be back at La Casa Payasa?” Seulgi asks with a smile, and you nod with a relieved sigh.
“It’s just like I remember it.” you hum fondly as you head up to their door and bring your fist to the door, only getting to knock once before the door swings open and Mark throws himself at you for a hug.
You catch him with a surprised laugh, stumbling back from the impact slightly but returning the tight hug nonetheless. He tucks his face into your neck and mumbles something that you can’t hear, prompting you to pull back slightly.
“I didn’t hear a word you said,” you chuckle, and he pulls back as well so you can see his bright smile.
“I missed you so much,” he repeats, and you coo fondly, pulling him back into the hug. 
“I missed you, too!” you chirp warmly, squeezing him in the hug for good measure. When you two pull apart, Chenle’s standing beside Mark and grinning at you. “Hey, Chenle!” 
“Hey, stranger,” he teases, pulling you into a hug of his own. “Long time, huh? Let’s hear that British accent you developed over there.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you reply in your best British impression, and he bursts out laughing.
“Man, that’s good stuff,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “We missed you over here!” he complains, moving to swat you on the arm. “Don’t leave again.”
“I’ll do my best to stick around.” you assure him, and he smiles and nods, content.
“Now what’s with this big ass bag you’re carrying, huh? Did you stow away some British goodies for us?” Chenle asks curiously, pinching the fabric of the sack over your shoulder. 
“Something like that,” you say slowly before you set it down and reach inside, handing Chenle and Mark their respective gifts. As they open them, Mark being considerably more careful than Chenle, you wait, hands clasped behind your back and rocking back and forth on your heels.
“How the hell did you get a signed Steph Curry jersey?” Chenle questions, baffled and thrilled, and you shrug with a secretive smile.
“I have my ways.”
“Never mind that—how did you get Frank Ocean himself to sign this album?” Mark asks, downright bewildered, and you shrug again.
“Ways that I have… that are mine.”
“You’re so silly, but this is amazing,” Chenle laughs, hugging you. “Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome,” you lilt sweetly, and Mark looks up from the Frank Ocean vinyl again to meet your inquisitive gaze with wide, awestruck eyes.
“You’re incredible. Genuinely.” he stammers, and you smile widely as he pulls you into a hug as well once Chenle’s released you. 
“I do my best,” you reply happily.
“Wait, also, how was your flight? Anything crazy happen?” Chenle asks curiously, and you pause as you think back.
“Actually, yeah; these two guys got into a verbal argument and then one of ‘em was like, ‘I’ll beat everyone’s ass right now!’ Which, objectively, is a crazy thing to say, but crazier to insist when you’re in a metal contraption thousands of feet in the air.” you start explaining, and Chenle’s eyes widen.
“No way,” he mumbles. “Then what?”
“Then he started threatening the flight crew, and I’m pretty sure he got placed on the no-fly list.” you finish with a solemn nod, and Mark gasps.
“I could never imagine never being able to fly again.” he mutters in awe, and you nod in agreement. 
“I know, right? He had it coming, though.” you say, and they shrug, nodding in agreement.
“I guess so,” Mark agrees before his face lights up as he seems to remember something. “Hey, where’s Jeno? He’s been waiting for you to show up.”
“I think he’s with Winter and Haechan right now,” Chenle answers, and you scrunch your face up in confusion.
“Who’s Haechan?” you ask, baffled, before it dawns on you. “Oh, wait, that’s Winter’s new boyfriend?” you ask, and they nod. “I see… well, can’t wait to meet him, I guess.” You shrug indifferently, now craning your head to look around for Jeno. 
You spot him before he spots you, the male standing alone texting on his phone by the couch. As if he can sense you looking, he looks up and his eyes lock on yours a moment later, his entire face brightening up as he starts to make his way over to where you’re standing.
By the time he’s where you are, you’re both sporting excited yet shy smiles as he opens his arms for a hug and you step into it. His arms drop to your waist and you wrap yours around his middle as he squeezes you gently.
“Hey,” he mumbles into the embrace, a smile audible in his voice.
“Hey, there.” you greet.
“Welcome back.”
“Good to be back,” you reply with a little grin.
“Did you have a good flight?” he asks curiously, and you nod.
“Minus a crazy guy on the plane, but it all ended fine,” you assure him, and he looks momentarily bewildered but manages to rein in his reaction.
“That’s good, I think… what seat did you get?” he questions, leaving you somewhat touched by his thoughtful questions. 
“I got a window seat,” you answer with a smile, and he nods in approval. 
“I love a good window seat,” he hums. “Did you watch a movie or nap or something?”
“I napped for a bit, yeah,” you chuckle, suddenly remembering how you’d had a bit of drool dried on your cheek earlier. Subconsciously wiping at the spot, you smile up at him casually. “I’m still a little tired, though.”
He frowns sympathetically before a little hopeful smile appears on his face. “Well, I hope you’re not too tired, because I wanted to give you something.” 
Your eyes widen. “You got me something?” 
He nods shyly. “I got you something. It’s in my car, though, and I parked kinda far, so I have to go get it. Come find me later when I come back so I can give it to you.”
“You got it,” you say with a smile. “I’ll come find you for sure. I actually have something for you, too, so we can trade.”
“Oh, no way! You’re the best.” He beams, squeezing your waist, at which point you realize you two never let go from the hug. Your cheeks on fire, you withdraw your arms from his middle and he does the same to you with an amused chuckle.
“I’m actually gonna go grab something from the kitchen,” you say, jerking a thumb in the direction of the hallway. “You want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, actually.” he answers, and you nod before you two go your separate ways. You turn back at the sound of your name to see Jeno looking at you with a soft gaze and an even softer smile that makes you feel like you’re a giggly school girl all over again.
“It’s really good to have you back. It really wasn’t the same without you. Seeing all your Instagram stories gave me a crazy sense of FOMO, and our little phone calls here and there really made me miss you even more,” he says sincerely, and you place a hand over your heart, touched.
“I’m really happy to be back,” you assure him. “I missed you.” His brows flick upwards in surprise at your somewhat bold admission, and you blink twice in mild alarm before continuing in a slight rush with, “I—well, like, I missed you, and Yunjin, and Chae—I missed you all, y’know? The story posts were so you wouldn’t forget about little ol’ me. I loved our phone calls, but it’s so much better getting to talk to you in person.”
He laughs lightheartedly and nods, waving you off reassuringly. “I get you. Go get yourself some snacks! We didn’t stock up on your favorites for some random people to eat it all up before you get any.”
“Copy that,” you say with an emphatic nod, saluting him jokingly before heading to the kitchen.
As you’re making your way to the snacks, you catch the eye of a very handsome stranger leaning against the wall in your hallway talking to one of your friends from work. To your surprise, he doesn’t look away from you as you approach, even going so far as to turn his head as you walk by to keep staring at you. 
You’re not sure if you’re more intrigued by him than by the challenge he’s posed, but you keep eye contact until you get to your kitchen and round the corner to find yourself a snack.
Moments after you’ve entered the room, you feel someone enter behind you, a smile coming to your lips as you realize who it most likely is.
When you turn to face the newcomer, he’s standing surprisingly close to you, his eyes scanning your face with an intrigue and intensity that leaves both of you a little breathless. 
“Hi.” the handsome stranger says as his lips curl into a grin. 
“Hi, there,” you echo, smiling back at him. ”Did you follow me in here?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was fate?”
You pretend to think about it. “By the way you watched me walk in here… no.”
He chuckles. “Fair. I had to ask you a question.”
“Luckily for you, I love questions.” you hum, placing both hands on the counter behind you and leaning against it in a silent invitation not only to ask his question, but also to approach.
Thankfully for you, he does both, stepping closer with a small chuckle and asking, “I was wondering if you believe in love at first sight.”
“Oh, brother—” you start to laugh, and he joins you before waving his hands to get you to stop.
“Hear me out!”
“My listening ears are on,” you reply with a smile and coy tilt of your head that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed, based on the way his already probing gaze intensifies.
“Do you?” he asks again, and you think about it for a moment.
“Not really,” you admit, letting out a small giggle at the disapproving look he gives you. “But maybe I can be convinced.”
He smiles widely, looking so bright that it truly dazzles you before continuing on to say, “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Why?” you ask. “Do you?”
“I don’t think I did,” he answers carefully, “until I saw you just now.”
“Oh, brother!” you burst out laughing—half from surprise and half from being flustered by how surprisingly sincere he sounded. In your attempt to recover from your outburst, you catch a glimpse of him to see that he’s gazing at you openly with a fond look in his eyes. “You are really something, you know that?”
He steps closer to you with a heat in his eyes, a glowing ember of intensity burning as he asks, “Something good or something bad?”
You shrug playfully and lean closer, wanting him nearer to you. “Jury’s still out on that part.”
He chuckles and wets his lips before his gaze drops to yours. “Can I present some new evidence?” he murmurs, and you tilt your head to the side as you pretend to think it over. “Has anyone ever told you that it’s really cute when you do that?”
“Of course,” you snicker. “Why do you think I do it?”
“So you’re turning up the charm right now, but you don’t believe in love at first sight?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. 
“Is it love at first sight or attraction, sir?”
He grins and steps even closer, dangerously close to touching you. “So you’re attracted to me.”
You look around, confused. “Now who said all that?” 
“You just did.”
”I most certainly did not.”
He half-scoffs, half-laughs in disbelief and points at you accusingly. “I heard you.”
“You heard wrong, I guess,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug before patting his chest twice. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you both hesitate, neither of you wanting to exit the intimate moment. However, when it buzzes a second time, then a third, you decide to give up and pull your phone from your pocket to check it.
jeno [23:04] hey i’m back
jeno [23:04] i have your surprise :)
jeno [23:05] let me know where to find you
You lock your phone and look up at the handsome stranger with a small frown. “Anyway, this was great, but I have to go find someone.”
He frowns deeply and catches your hand as it leaves his chest, lacing his fingers with yours and looking up at you. “Do you actually have to leave or am I making you nervous?”
“I told my friend I’d find him later, and it’s officially later,” you explain truthfully, and he seems to hear the sincerity in your voice, because he relaxes visibly. “Maybe I’ll find you after?” you offer, and he perks up, gently squeezing your hand.
“I’d like that.”
“Can I get a name? So I know who I’m looking for later?” you ask.
He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you when you find me later.”
You pout, and he smiles fondly at you. “I guess.” you relent, grabbing the soda and snacks you came to get off of the counter and heading towards the kitchen exit. “See you later?”
He nods resolutely. “See you later.” 
You exit the kitchen with a small smile that threatens to take over your whole face if you don’t calm your spirits as you begin your second search of the night for Jeno. 
After grabbing the presents you got for him from where you’d stashed them in Chaewon’s room, it doesn’t take you long at all to find him, the male still lingering by the entrance when you spot him. You sneak around a small group of people and pop up beside him, making him jolt in surprise and clutch his chest.
“Hi,” you giggle, and Jeno slumps with relief when his eyes lock on you, a warm smile coming to his face.
“Hey,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“So… how do you want to do this?” you ask curiously. “I can go first if you want?”
“No, I want to go first for sure,” he replies with a sureness in his voice that leaves you a little surprised and mildly impressed.
You gesture for him to start, still holding your present for him behind your back, and he retrieves two small, rectangular boxes from inside his jacket pocket. 
“That looks expensive,” you say worriedly, and he chuckles fondly before waving a hand dismissively.
“It wasn’t too bad, don’t worry.” he replies reassuringly as he hands you the small boxes.
You gesture awkwardly with your hands still behind your back, trying your best to indicate that your hands are currently out of commission, and his eyes light up with understanding before he’s gingerly opening one of the navy blue boxes.
You gasp once you’ve peered into the box, your eyes wide as you look up at him in surprise. ”Jeno.”
“Is it too much? Oh, God, you hate it. I’m sorry–” he starts to worry aloud.
“Wait—Jeno—”
“I can take it back, maybe, and you can pick out something you’d like more—”
“Jeno?”
“I should have thought it through more carefully—”
”Jeno!” your voice is gentle in tone but loud enough to catch his attention, his worried eyes locking in on yours. “Please relax.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles embarrassedly, looking down at the floor.
“I was going to say that I genuinely love them. The necklace and the earrings are stunning, and they’re exactly my style.” you say sincerely, in awe as you stare down at the beautiful pieces of jewelry Jeno bought you. The necklace is a silver choker, a paperclip-like link type chain with a diamond-encrusted butterfly in the center. The earrings are matching silver hoops with butterflies adorned along the rings of metal, and your jaw drops slightly as you take in the beauty of Jeno’s present.
“You really like it?” he asks excitedly, a hint of worry still in his voice, but when you nod, his brows unfurrow and he smiles widely, relieved. “I saw the set and it reminded me of you. It’s beautiful, classy, and fun.” 
You can’t help but smile. “You think I’m classy and fun?”
“Of course,” he answers instantly, and your smile widens as you step closer to him curiously.
“You think I’m beautiful?” you ask with your eyebrows raised, and Jeno visibly swallows.
“I do,” he bashfully agrees, and you coo fondly, wanting nothing more than to set his present down and wrap him in a tight hug. “I really do.” 
“Jeno,” you tease playfully, “I’m kinda dying to know what’s in the other box.”
“Oh, yeah!” he exclaims, closing the first box and opening the second as he explains, “I just got them in gold and silver because I know you tend to wear both depending on your mood and your outfit, so I gave you options.”
“Jeno, that is so thoughtful.” you gush appreciatively, and he blushes immediately, cheeks pinking along with the tips of his ears. “I absolutely love them,” you say gratefully, a warm smile curling your lips.
“Thank God,” he sighs with a laugh that you join him in.
“Okay, so… don’t know how I’m gonna top that,” you joke, “but it’s my turn now.”
“You have my undivided attention,” he assures you, and you can’t help but bat your lashes at him slightly.
“I like the idea of that.” you say flirtatiously, and he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Okay, here, we’ll trade and you’ll open.”
“Deal,” he agrees, swapping presents with you. You watch nervously as he unties the ribbon on the white box and lifts the lid. “This looks delicious, holy shit.”
“I made it myself,” you say carefully. 
He looks up at you in surprise. “From scratch?”
You nod. “From scratch.”
“That’s amazing,” Jeno marvels. “Isn’t Victoria sponge cake hard to make?”
“Baking is only hard if you can’t follow instructions.” you say with a resolute nod, and Jeno snickers.
“I never thought of you as a rule-follower, if I’m being honest,” he admits.
You shrug. “Rules and instructions are very different to me, but I can be very obedient when I want to be.”
Jeno pauses at that, eyeing you suspiciously. “Oh, yeah? Like when?”
“In the bedroom.” you answer without hesitation, smiling in amusement as Jeno’s eyes widen slightly.
“You never gave off ‘obedient,’ y’know.” Jeno informs you.
“If I can tell you know what you’re doing, I’ll listen to you.” you reply with a nonchalant shrug.
“Yeah? Would you listen to me?” Jeno asks, voice quieter and, if you’re not mistaken, lower than before. There’s a suggestive edge to his voice, playful and flirtatious, but in the way that very much indicates that he’d stop joking in a minute if you were into it.
“Depends,” you answer, smiling up at him. “Do you know what you’re doing in there?”
His responding chuckle is significantly deeper than the ones before it, the sound undeniably attractive as he regards you carefully. “Absolutely.”
“Is that so?” you muse softly, watching him intently. “And I’m supposed to go off of your word?”
“You don’t trust me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and you shrug.
“I just tend to learn better from experience.” you reply with a small flirtatious smile that threatens to overtake your whole face.
“Maybe we can arrange that.” he says with a playful grin.
“I’ll keep my schedule open.” you say with a curt nod, and he snorts in amusement.
“Perfect.” he agrees before focusing his attention on the smaller box in his arms. He sets the cake box down on the table by the entryway and unwraps the other, cube-shaped box, his eyes widening with excitement when its contents are revealed to him.
“No way!” he gasps, turning the Big Ben snow globe this way and that. 
“I remembered you have a snow globe collection and I thought I could help you add to it.” you explain, and Jeno looks up at you, eyes bright.
“You’re amazing. Thank you so much.” he gushes happily, and you beam at him before waving him off.
“Of course, Jeno. I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you while I was gone.” you say sweetly, and he grins before opening his arms for a hug, 
You step into his embrace readily and wrap your arms around his middle, the two of you squeezing each other tightly. When you pull back slightly, you realize Jeno still hasn’t let you go, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist. 
“I really missed you, y’know.” Jeno says softly, and your heart warms.
“I missed you too, Jeno. It’s good to be back.” you echo, and he smiles before gently releasing you, his reluctance apparent in the way his fingers linger as they pull away from you. “Oh!” you say, remembering something out of nowhere. “I actually still have to give Winter her present, so I’m gonna track her down and do that.”
“Oh, of course, yeah, go for it. Thank you again—I’m gonna demolish this cake later.” Jeno says, finishing his sentence in a conspiratorial whisper, and you giggle.
“I’m glad. I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” You reach up and pinch his chin gently, smiling wider when his blush from earlier returns in full force.
Jeno nods shyly, and you release him before venturing further into the party in search of Winter.
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Finally spotting Winter across the room on her phone, you cross the living room and tap her shoulder from behind, smiling widely when she turns around.
“Hey!” she greets excitedly, wrapping you in a hug. You two rock from side to side for a moment, hearts full, before you release each other. “What’s up?”
“I just wanted to give you your present,” you say with a small shrug and a smile, and her eyes widen. “It’s nothing crazy!” you warn her, waving your hands dismissively, and she shrugs, reaching out for the gift bag in your hand with opening and closing fists.
“I wanna see! Can I see, please?” Winter pleads, and you give in with a fond laugh, handing over the gift bag. 
You wait with bated breath as she opens the present, her eyes softening fondly as she gazes down at the stuffed plushie in her hand.
“It’s so cute! How’d you even find a desert fox plushie?” she asks, in awe as she turns it this way and that.
“I had it commissioned from a toy store boutique only in England,” you explain, and she smiles widely, wrapping you in another tight hug.
“Thank you so much,” she gushes, pulling back from the embrace to clutch her plushie to her chest tightly. “I gotta come up with a name for you, little guy!”
“You do that,” you laugh, moving a stray curl out of her face. “I’m gonna keep making my way through the party.”
“Okay,” she sing-songs. “See you later!”
“See you, babe!” you chirp, waving goodbye before heading back the way you came, deciding to take a detour into the kitchen for more snacks.
You’re barely in there for five minutes, munching happily on salty and sweet snacks alike, before you exit and run almost directly into the chest of someone; the only thing stopping the collision are their quick reflexes as they steady you in place.
“Sorry!” you apologize, stepping back and looking up to your victim before you stop short and a pleased smile curls your lips.
“Hey, you. Was wondering where you’d run off to.” the handsome stranger from earlier says, smiling at you.
“Oh, y’know. Making the rounds, saying hi to everyone. It is my party, after all.” you reply with a secretive smile, and he steps closer with raised eyebrows of intrigue.
“Is that so?” he asks, and you nod, stepping a bit closer to hear him better. 
“Mm, yeah,” you hum. “You know what’s weird?”
“What is it?” 
“This party is for me, and yet there are people here I’ve never met before,” you muse. “Like you.”
“Maybe it’s a sign you're meant to get to know me.” he suggests with a wry grin, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
“Good one.” you reply playfully. “So what should we do to get to know each other?” you ask with a playful lilt and feigned curiosity.
“Mm, you could start by telling me more about yourself.” he replies, and you raise your brows.
“‘Myself’ is a very broad topic,” you point out, and he snorts. “Be more specific.”
“Fair, fair.” he agrees with a chuckle. “What are…” he trails off thoughtfully before he perks up again, “your love languages?”
“I feel like this is an unfair advantage sort of question,” you reply with a small pout. (You do not miss the way his gaze softens fondly. Or the way it drops to your lips.) “So, I’ll only answer if you do, too.”
“That’s fair,” he agrees with a smile. “You first, though.”
“Mine are,” you say as you try to recall what the quiz results said the last time you took it, “acts of service, physical touch, and quality time. What about you?”
“Wait, let’s unpack yours first—”
“No, you say yours, then we’ll unpack mine. Fess up, bucko.” you press, poking him gently in the chest.
He laughs at your poke and mini outburst before obliging. “Physical touch,” he murmurs, leaning into your space and smirking slightly when you half-step, half-stumble back, “words of affirmation,” he straightens up and gestures between the two of you casually with a cheeky grin before finishing with, “and quality time.”
“You’re so smooth,” you gush sarcastically, and he snickers.
“Why, thank you. I’d say I try, but then I’d be lying.” 
You shoot him a look. “Don’t push it.”
Holding his hands up in surrender, he shrugs. “My bad.”
“As long as you know.” you reply with a sweet smile, and his gaze softens. “What?”
“You’ve got a beautiful smile, you know that?” he murmurs, and your cheeks warm. 
“Thanks,” you mumble bashfully, and he coos fondly at you. 
“So cute,” he fawns.
You glower at him. “I’m out of here,” you mutter, undeniably flustered and embarrassed about it. 
“Aw, come back, cutie—” he slips his fingers around your wrist gently and tugs you closer, smiling when there’s virtually no resistance from your end. “I didn’t mean to make you all nervous,” he apologizes with a playful, teasing lilt that tells you he might not actually be all that sorry. 
Turning your nose up, you look away from him even as his hand slips down to let his thumb stroke gently at the back of your hand. At your small intake of breath, he smiles and tugs you even closer—dangerously close, actually—before moving to wrap his hand around the small of your back.
It’s almost as if the Fates themselves decided to intervene, the divine timing is that impeccable.
His phone pings, and he frowns before pulling it out of his back pocket and checking the screen. His face falls visibly and so drastically that it actually hurts you to see for a moment, leading you to avert your gaze politely.
His hand slowly retreats from its original path, and you’re shocked to find that you’re a bit disappointed. 
“Do me a small favor? Schedule some time for me later before your busy, busy party ends? I’ll be back.” he says hopefully, squeezing your hand gently before shooting you an apologetic smile and turning to weave between a couple of people before disappearing into the hallway.
You try not to look as disappointed as you feel, but apparently you fail because Seulgi’s by your side moments later from out of virtually nowhere.
“I saw you pouting from all the way across the room,” she chuckles fondly as she strokes your back gently. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting,” you mumble, and Seulgi raises an eyebrow.
“Tell that to your bottom lip,” she points out, and you tuck it back in with an air of defeat. “Exactly. Now what’s wrong?”
“I was talking to this really cute guy earlier,” you admit with a slowly deepening frown, “but he had to leave really suddenly.”
Seulgi makes a sympathetic hum. “Did you get his name?”
“No!” you complain, and she nods in understanding.
“Well, even if he had to leave, he might come to another party in the future—because he clearly knows someone here, you know?” 
“What’s wrong?” Chaewon asks, a tipsy Winter in tow.
“How do you know something’s wrong?” you ask, confused. 
“You’re pouting,” Chaewon points out, and you splutter, bewildered. 
“I’m not!” you exclaim defensively, and Winter winces sympathetically.
“You are.” she confirms, reaching out and unceremoniously poking your bottom lip before giggling to herself.
“She’s mad her party crush pulled a Cinderella and dipped on her,” Seulgi explains.
“Ah,” Chaewon and Winter both say sympathetically.
“That sucks,” Winter sighs. “Speaking of cute guys disappearing—has anyone seen my boyfriend anywhere?”
“What’s he wearing?” you ask, and Winter moves to answer before Chaewon unknowingly cuts her off. 
“It’s so weird that you and Haechan have been at this party for so long and have yet to run into each other.” Chaewon marvels aloud, and you shrug casually.
“I probably walked by him or something and just didn’t know,” you brush it off, and Chaewon nods thoughtfully.
“Walked by who and didn’t know?” Yunjin asks from behind you, and when you turn to face her, she frowns. “Why are you pouting?”
“Mother of God—” you huff, crossing your arms, and Yunjin winces.
“Jeez, tough crowd.” she chuckles. “Walked by who and didn’t know?” she presses.
“Haechan,” you explain, and her brows furrow together in confusion, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Oh,” is all she says after a moment. “Wait, can you, um, come help me with something in the bathroom?” she asks you, eyes concerningly piercing.
“Sure,” you mumble, definitely confused but picking up on her sense of urgency. 
“We’ll be right back,” Yunjin explains, tugging you away. “Roommate problems!” she calls over her shoulder, and you grimace to really sell the direness of the situation.
You let her tug you into the bathroom towards the back of the apartment by Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s bedrooms, and she sits you down on the toilet before taking a deep breath.
“I don’t exactly know how to tell you this, but I was trying to find you earlier before this spiraled out of control.” she starts. 
“You’re scaring me,” you complain, and she shushes you as she unlocks her phone and starts searching for something. 
“You did meet Haechan, actually, but I have a feeling no one told you that you met Haechan.” Yunjin says finally, and you think back to the very small amount of people you met for the first time today, pondering over who it might be before Yunjin turns her phone to show you the screen, and— 
“Fuck.” you mumble hoarsely, and Yunjin nods slightly before closing her phone on the screen she’s just showed you of a photo of your friend group, presumably from when you were abroad, where Winter is sitting happily on the lap of— “that’s the stranger I was talking to.” you say sadly. “My party crush.”
“Did he ever say his name?” she asks, and you think back, growing increasingly more irritated when you realize—
“No,” you mutter bitterly, “he must have conveniently forgotten to share that part.”
“Can I say something?” Yunjin says carefully, and you nod solemnly. “I saw you two staring at each other before he followed you into the kitchen.” Your blood runs cold, and it must show on your face, because she quickly adds, “I’m not mad at you, and I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just gonna warn you, because that staring contest was intense, and I don’t know what happened in that kitchen—I don’t want to!” she says suddenly, putting her hand up to silence you as you move to speak before slowly continuing with, “I just know none of that can happen in front of Winter, so it shouldn’t happen at all.”
“Agreed.” you sigh sadly. “Yeah. I mean, I’m pissed as hell, and I might maim him the next time I see him, but other than that, I guess I’m fine.”
“I mean. yeah. Definitely agree with maiming him, actually.” she agrees after a moment of thought. “Just do something subtle and easy to explain away.”
You smile at her, your spirits lifted slightly. “You’re the best.” 
“Love you, girl.” she says sincerely, bending down to hug you before helping you to your feet. “I got your back.”
You head back out there with no pout in sight, only a deceptive smile as you plan your revenge.
It’s not long before the not-so-mysterious stranger comes back around, by which time you’ve fully worked yourself up into a huff about the situation once more, crossing your arms, leaning against the wall, and eyeing him disapprovingly as he approaches.
“Why so serious?” he jokes, and you raise an eyebrow.
“At what point were you going to tell me you’re dating Winter?” you ask, deciding to get right to the point, and he freezes, shock on his face. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. 
“For what?” you test him, and he frowns deeply.
“For hiding that from you.” he sighs, and you huff as he continues, “I just really wanted to get to know you, and I felt like I had to hide that because you knowing would ruin it!”
You look at him with an eyebrow raised pointedly. “And what would you call this?” 
His frown turns to a petulant pout. “Ruined?” he asks.
“Ding, ding, ding,” you say sarcastically before turning to leave.
“Wait, I’m— I’m really sorry,” he pleads, catching your hand before you can slip away. “Can we start over a little bit?”
“How are we gonna start over a little bit?” you ask skeptically, and he stands up straighter, tugging you a bit closer before smiling hopefully and releasing your hand to wave in greeting. 
“Hi, I’m Haechan, Winter’s boyfriend,” he introduces himself as he offers his hand to shake. As you take it, he gently urges you closer with a testing tug before adding, “and I think you’re beautiful.”
“Haechan!” you whisper, half-laughing in surprise, and he shrugs with a sheepish grin.
“Figured I’d lay all my cards out on the table this time.”
“Kinda ballsy, no?” you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms, and he chuckles.
“I’m a pretty ballsy guy.” 
You eye him up and down before tilting your head to the side and saying, “I’m sure.”
“So am I forgiven?” he asks hopefully. 
“For now,” you reply after a moment of thinking, and continue at the sight of his excited smile, “but I’m watching you.”
“I’d be upset if you weren’t.” he murmurs, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.
It doesn’t take long for your one-sided animosity to dissipate as you and Haechan manage to fall into a normal enough conversation about your activities in Oxford. At one point, the familiar but unpleasant smell of weed filters into your senses, making you subconsciously wrinkle your nose in distaste. 
Haechan raises an eyebrow, amused. “You alright?”
“You don’t smell that?” you ask, and he sniffs the air before he chuckles.
“I’m guessing you’re not much of a smoker?” he speculates.
You shake your head, tipping your head back to swallow the rest of your drink. “Definitely not.” You lick your lips to clean up the remnants of your drink, and barely stifle the laugh that bubbles up when you notice Haechan watching your mouth with both entirely rapt attention and a slightly dazed expression. “See something you like?”
“Sure do,” he breathes, and you yelp, swatting his arm lightly. “You asked!”
“As a joke!”
“Well, sorry for failing to read the room properly. I was a little, um, distracted.”
“Haechan.”
“Hm?”
“Stop staring at my lips.” 
“What if I don’t?” he asks, stepping closer to you slowly. “Hm?”
“You’re awfully bold for a guy who’s dating one of my friends.” you murmur back, and he shrugs, smiling flirtatiously.
“I know what I want.” he answers casually, and the resolve in his voice takes you by surprise, leaving you to swallow a growing lump in your throat.
“I’m, uh,” you stammer, looking around for something, anything, that can save you from his intense attention. “I’m gonna go see if they want snacks,” you finally answer pathetically, and he doesn’t buy it for a minute, a smug grin curling his lips before he nods, seemingly complying.
He waits for you to move past him, staying perfectly still and therefore forcing you to squeeze between him and the counter, and head towards the living room before he’s so close behind you that he’s practically on you and only then does he reply, a smile audible in his voice as he murmurs, “Let’s go, then.”
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“Hi, my dear friends. Are we having a good time?” you ask as you re-enter the living room and scan over each of your friends, all sitting in a circle with Yunjin’s infamous hot pink bong placed carefully in her lap. The party continues on around them, people only sparing cursory glances at the very occupied couch and nearby seating of Seulgi’s and Chaewon’s living room, but you couldn’t care less about the other guests, instead focusing your attention on your seven cross-faded friends. 
Yunjin, ever the lightweight, looks up at you with red-rimmed, half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile. “Never better.” 
“I actually just want to say that I missed you so much,” Chaewon sniffles, hurriedly wiping away a tear before looking up at you earnestly. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
“I missed you, too!” you reply, touched, and she sniffles loudly, the tip of her nose pinking in that signature way that lets you know more tears are en route whether she likes it or not.
“I’m not gonna lie, yo,” Mark mumbles, rubbing a hand over his face and looking over at you. “I’m about to be starving.”
“‘About to be starving’ is crazy, actually.” you snicker, and Mark joins in your laughter, his laugh bubbling up inside of him almost uncontrollably.
“Well, you know how it goes; we smoke, we get high, we get the munchies.” Mark explains, and you nod in understanding. 
“Mark… I went to England for a study abroad program… not to get a lobotomy.” you say slowly, and he snorts loudly in surprise and amusement. “I remember what happens when y’all get high.” you remind him, and he lifts his hands up in surrender, nodding back at you with a grin. “Do you guys want food from the deli down the block?”
“Yes!” The resounding chorus of assent from all your high friends actually takes you by surprise, sending you stepping back in shock only to stumble directly into Haechan’s chest. He steadies you instantly, hands gripping your shoulders securely, and quietly double-checks with you to make sure you’re actually sturdy before releasing you. 
You hate that you found his touch comforting for even a second, trying your best internally to squash the initial attraction you had to him as you attempt to focus on the task at hand.
“Okay, sounds good to me. Can y’all just type your names and what you want in my Notes app?” you ask, unlocking your phone, opening the Notes app, and passing your phone to Yunjin. As your phone makes its way around the circle, you turn slightly to face Haechan, who’s already watching you with an unnerving level of intensity.
“Haechan, why don’t you go with her?” Seulgi suggests, completely missing the warning glare you send her way. “She can’t carry all of that by herself.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” he agrees easily, and you purse your lips for a moment, breathing in deeply before turning fully so you’re face-to-face with Haechan. “Looks like we’re gonna spend some more one-on-one time together.” he says with a secretive smile, and you swallow hard, not knowing what to expect from this little excursion.
Your phone eventually makes its way back to you and you look over the orders before putting your phone in your back pocket and heading to grab your coat, Haechan following diligently behind you.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon! Try to hang in there, guys.” you announce, stepping out of the apartment and holding the door open for Haechan, who exits and shuts it behind himself.
As you two make your way down the hall to the elevator, he speeds up slightly so he’s walking in front of you before turning fully around to face you, taking smooth backwards strides down the hall.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, confused, and he shakes his head with a smile.
“Don’t mind me.” he replies, and you snort in amusement. 
“Kinda hard not to mind you when you seem hellbent on staring holes into my face.” you mutter as you press the elevator button.
“Not my fault you’re nice to look at.” he defends himself, and you look over at him instantly, shock written all over your face. “What’s wrong? Surely you’ve heard that about yourself before.”
“I sure have,” you agree readily, sighing in relief when the elevator door opens. Stepping in, you add, “I just haven’t heard it from the mouth of my friend’s boyfriend.”
“Ah, well.” He follows you into the elevator and shrugs with a “what can you do?” type of smile, making you narrow your eyes. “First time for everything, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you reply slowly, regarding him suspiciously. “Let’s try and make that first time the last time, okay?”
“No promises.” he murmurs, a smile audible in his voice. When you look over at him, he winks at you so quickly you almost think you imagined it, and you jolt, making a noise of bewilderment that sounds embarrassingly close to a mix of a squawk or squeak before turning to face forward again.
The weather actually feels quite nice, you realize when you both get outside, a light, cool breeze filtering through the trees, and you and Haechan walk alongside each other for the first two, maybe three minutes in silence before he breaks it.
“Can I ask you a question?” Haechan asks, looking over at you as you two walk to the deli.
“Depends… is it weird?” you return his question with another question, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“Don’t think so.”
“Okay, then shoot.”
“I noticed your reaction to the smell of the weed smoke earlier,” he recalls, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do you not smoke?”
“Not at all,” you reply, and he nods in understanding. “I don’t do any drugs.”
“Me either,” he replies, and a mildly surprised smile makes its way to your lips. “Can I ask if you have a reason for never wanting to try anything?”
You’re silent for a moment as you attempt to find the right words to explain yourself and Haechan waits patiently, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence before you break it. “I don’t like the feeling of not being in control of myself.” you say carefully, and he gives you an emphatic nod that piques your curiosity. “You too?”
“Somewhat, yeah, but I was mainly nodding because I completely get it. For me, I don’t like moving any slower than usual or feeling restricted in any way.” 
“That makes perfect sense, too.” you say, giving him a firm, approving nod of your own, and he chuckles quietly. “I’ve always wondered about what it might be like to just… mellow out and calm down, y’know?”
“Definitely,” he agrees. “They usually get so… happy.”
“Exactly! Well, except for when Chaewon starts crying out of nowhere.” you add.
Haechan laughs. “Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about.”
“That’s another thing, too.” you say, starting to feel more comfortable talking about it to someone who understands. “I feel like some drugs—especially, like, weed, LSD, acid, shrooms, and stuff like that—they tend to bring out, like, parts of your subconscious that are typically hidden away.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that and I’ve definitely seen it happen,” Haechan says, sounding surprisingly solemn.
“Yeah, so… whatever’s going on under the surface in here,” you say, tapping your temple, “is none of my business.” you finish with a resolute nod, making Haechan snicker. “I will simply continue raw-dogging life on this bitch of an earth.”
“That’s so real.” Haechan says through his laughter, making you smile.
“Thank you!” you chirp. “Also, when you say you don’t like moving slower or feeling restricted, do you mean in a physical or mental sense? Or is it both?”
“Hmm,” Haechan hums thoughtfully. “Definitely both. I just feel like… I would describe myself and my lifestyle as somewhat fast-paced, y’know? Like, not really very sedentary, I’m always on the move, and if I’m high off of, like, weed or something, I feel like all I’d be able to do is… vegetate…  and I hate the thought of that.”
“That’s so real,” you say, echoing Haechan’s earlier statement. “Well, you know, if you want to move faster, there’s always cocaine,” you joke, and he snorts loudly, clearly not expecting your comment. 
“I definitely wouldn’t try cocaine,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I can just imagine my poor mom if I came to visit her one day and I was all strung out and tweaking.”
“Aw, are you a mama’s boy?” you ask teasingly, nudging him with your shoulder.
“Maybe a little bit, yeah,” he admits with a shy smile, and you grin.
“That’s sweet.” you assure him, and he visibly relaxes, laughing with an air of bashfulness. “We’re here, by the way!” you point out, gesturing to the deli less than thirty feet away at the end of the block.
Haechan jogs slightly ahead of you, opening the door and holding it for you to enter.
“Thank you,” you say with a grateful smile as you step inside. The smell of the deli is delicious, the scents of various foods being cooked wafting through the air, and for a moment you half-expect to start floating involuntarily towards the tastiest smelling dish.
“Okay, let’s get these orders in,” you mutter to yourself before making your way over to where the grill cooks are stationed. “Hi, how are you feeling tonight?” you greet politely, exchanging brief pleasantries before continuing on with, “I actually have a pretty big order I’d like to place with sandwiches and sides, but I don’t mind waiting if I have to!”
“Go ahead, miss,” one of the cooks says, and you look down at your phone before starting to read off the orders.
Haechan stands off to the side and watches on as you rattle off the nine different sandwich and side order combos to the cooks, who nod and start to prepare them. When you’re finished, you turn to face Haechan and smile sweetly before leading him towards the drinks and snacks. 
“Okay, can you help me carry these to the front?” you ask Haechan.
“Of course, yeah,” he answers, and you start to hand him various drinks and snacks off of the note everyone wrote in.
“Okay, a raspberry peach Snapple for me… a Redbull for you—wait, Haechan, you like Redbull but you won’t try cocaine…? Seems fake,” you comment, and Haechan lets out a shocked laugh before raising his hands—well, he’s holding a drink in each hand, so fists—in surrender.
“Take it easy on me!” he begs jokingly, and you pretend to think about it before relenting with a smile and continuing to collect the drinks. 
“Mountain Dew for Seulgi… Sprite for Jeno… oop, and a Sprite for Chenle, too… root beer for Winter… blue Gatorade for Mark… Arizona raspberry iced tea for Yunjin, and finally, that XXX Vitamin Water that Chaewon’s always raving about.” You close the refrigerator door with your hip, the two of you carefully carrying your armfuls of beverages to the counter.
“I never got the Vitamin Water hype.” Haechan admits.
“It’s essentially juice, but like water with a splash of juice, maybe two if you’re lucky.” you say. “At least, that’s what I think, but some of them do actually taste pretty good, too.”
“Hm,” he remarks thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I just never got into it.” 
“You got into that Redbull pretty easily though, huh?” you tease, and he laughs, his cheeks pinking ever so slightly, and you’re glad he’s looking away so he can’t see how blatantly you paused to look at him.
“Miss, some of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out to you, and you shoot them a thumbs up as they bring two sandwiches and a couple of trays to the counter for you. “Do you want to pay now or when we’re finished preparing everything?”
“Oh, I can pay now! Just let me go get the chips and stuff.” you say before whizzing off to where the snacks are, returning shortly after with Seulgi’s Takis and Chenle’s red Doritos and placing them on the counter triumphantly. 
The worker manning the register rings your stuff up and reads you out the total, to which you respond by pulling out your phone to tap the card reader, but Haechan calls your name before you can complete the transaction, making you look over at him in confusion.
“I got it,” he offers, reaching for the card reader with his own phone only for you to shoot him a funny look and nudge his phone out of the way to finish paying with your own phone. 
“You didn’t have to pay for it, Haechan,” you assure him. “Think of it as the small fee I had to pay for disappearing from the country for about half of a year.”
“Yeah, but I was being a gentleman.” he protests with a frown.
“It’s okay! Be a gentleman to your girlfriend—not me.” you say with expectantly raised brows.
“I’m trying to impress you, though,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.
“Read the room, maybe?” you chuckle, and he scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Something wrong?”
“I’m not much of a reader.” he replies with a dismissive shrug, and you raise your eyebrows.
“I’m a librarian.” you remind him. “My job is literally all about reading.”
“On second thought,” Haechan blurts out, “I literally read every day, all the time.” When you snicker in amusement, he grins and continues with, “I’m being so serious. I’ve read every bottle of shampoo and body wash in my shower front to back!” he presses, and you burst into laughter. 
“You’re ridiculous.” you giggle as you recover from your laughing fit, and he grins shamelessly.
“I made you laugh, though,” he points out with a smug little grin. “So you kinda like it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie with a sniff, looking away. 
“You think I’m funny,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he gets closer. “And if earlier was any indication, you think I’m attractive.”
“Where are you going with this?” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“You like me.” he replies simply, and you choke on your spit. 
“Two fairly objective observations are not an indication of me liking you.” you splutter indignantly, and Haechan raises his brow.
“Being attractive is objective now?” he asks skeptically, and you glare at him, turning to the row of deli cooks pretending not to be watching your conversation intently.
“Is he a handsome guy?” you ask them, and they all look between each other with confusion and mild discomfort. “Literally no homo. Please relax. Is he a handsome guy or is he an uggo?” you emphasize, and one of them snorts.
“He’s definitely not ugly, no,” one of the cooks pipes up, and they all nod in agreement. “Handsome guy, actually.” 
“Good bone structure,” the cook beside him adds, and you could swear Haechan starts to blush. “Yeah, he’s a good looking dude.”
“Sí, muy guapo.” A cook you can’t even see chimes in, and you and Haechan look at each other, bewildered. 
“How many of you are back there?” Haechan asks as he chuckles nervously.
“No te preocupes, amigo.” the same cook says, still concealed from view. “Eres guapísimo.”
“Thank you, guys.” you reply gratefully before turning to stick your tongue out at Haechan triumphantly.
To your surprise, his gaze darkens. “Do that again.”
“No, I’m good.” you reply immediately, fixing your face and turning away from him. “Little freak.”
“Mm, maybe a little bit.” he hums, and you grimace.
“Yuck.” you mutter, narrowing your eyes in his direction. “Get a grip. As I was saying, me finding you funny or attractive has nothing to do with liking you.”
“Why wouldn’t you, though?” he presses, and you let out an exasperated sigh before turning fully to face him. 
“You have a girlfriend!” you whisper-shout, confused even further by the way he looks at you, smug and unimpressed.
“So that’s the only thing stopping you?” he says slowly, and you pause as you realize what you’ve admitted to.
“It’s the only thing that matters.” you huff with an air of finality, and Haechan just chuckles, stepping closer.
“Not this? Hm? Not how good—no—how right this feels?” he murmurs suggestively, and you shake your head firmly.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” you mutter, and he scoffs in disbelief. 
“Are you really gonna keep playing dumb?” 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sing-song, and he rolls his eyes.
“Sure.” he murmurs, amused. 
Desperate to change the topic, you look around, your eyes landing on the bags of food on the countertop.
“Man, those fries smell so good,” you groan, staring enviously at the bag containing Winter’s order of curly fries.
“Mm, yeah?” Haechan hums, looking from the bag to you. He puts a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture and pops open the plastic container. He pulls out a small handful of Winter’s curly fries, about as much as he can fit between his thumb and forefinger, and grins at you, winking before popping one in his mouth.
He reaches his hand out, offering you one of his stolen goods, and you hesitate for a second before deciding to reach forward and take the proffered curly fry. As you chew it, your eyes roll back into your head in ecstasy, the fried good the perfect amount of salty, crunchy, and warm.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully, and he waves you off dismissively.
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “It’s our little secret, okay?”
“Jeez, I just met you tonight and you’re already trusting me with secrets?” you chuckle, and he shrugs.
“Well, should I not trust you?” he asks curiously, and you shake your head instantly in disagreement. 
“You can trust me, don’t worry.” you assure him, and he smiles widely, nodding slowly in understanding.
“Great.”
“The real question is if I can trust you,” you continue, and he chuckles.
“You can,” he says confidently, and you raise your eyebrows skeptically.
“How do I know I can trust that?” you ask, and he laughs, rolling his eyes slightly as he leans closer to you conspiratorially.
“That’s just a risk you’re gonna have to take.”
“No, thanks. I’m not big on risks.” you admit.
Haechan tilts his head to the side curiously. “You don’t take any risks?”
You pause to think about it, thoughts racing back to earlier when you made the mental pact with yourself to be more daring and take more risks. “Not really, no. Unless you count letting Yunjin drive.”
He snorts. “I’m talking big risks.”
You stare at him blankly. “Have you ever been in the car with Yunjin?”
Chuckling and shaking his head slightly, he says, “I have.”
“It’s pretty risky.”
“I’m talking about different risks, though. Think harder.” he presses. 
You sigh loudly but oblige, thinking about it again. “I guess studying abroad in Oxford felt pretty risky… I was essentially all alone on the other side of the world.”
He shakes his head. “Bigger,” he explains. “I’m talking about something that,” his gaze slowly falls to your lips and he continues, “could go really wrong.” 
It feels like he’s hinting at something, and you’re not sure you want to find out.
“Truthfully, I don’t get why I would take risks like those.” you say with a pensive frown, and he smiles, eyes still trained on your mouth with an unmistakable fascination as he steps closer to you, practically cornering you against the snack rack behind you, and if he hears your squeak of alarm, he chooses not to comment. 
“It’s about the reward,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips slowly. “People take risks because they think that the reward is worth it in comparison to what could go wrong.”
“Well, I don’t think most risks I can think of off of the top of my head are worth it,” you say with a stumped pout.
“I can think of one I wanna take right now,” he hums softly, reaching up to rest one hand on the rack behind you, and you balk, finally starting to understand what he’s been hinting at.
“I, um, think that might be too risky.” you reply cautiously, and he chuckles quietly.
“I disagree,” he says plainly. “I think it’d be so worth it.” he breathes out, his gentle breath fanning over your lips, the minty scent tempting you more than you’d like to admit. 
“If you try and kiss me right now,” you say quietly, “I will bite your lip until it bleeds.”
He snickers and nods in understanding. “Understood.”
“Is that risk worth it now?” you ask wryly, and he bites back a laugh.
“I don’t know, let me find out.” he says, leaning in closer, and you yelp, pushing his chest reflexively and, when he barely budges, clapping a hand over your mouth and glaring at him as he laughs loudly. “Man, you’re cute.”
“Shut up,” you mutter contritely, moving your hand away when he relents and steps back. “Let’s not ask why I don’t feel comfortable taking risks and ask, instead, why you—” you poke his chest accusingly, “feel so comfortable being so reckless.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, explaining, “I don’t think it’s that I’m reckless—”
“Yeah, right.” you mutter.
He ignores you. “I think it’s that I want to know what it feels like to truly live.” he finishes, and you pause at that, genuinely taking in his words. “Life is too short to be scared to indulge, you know?”
“Well,” you say slowly, thoughtfully, “I guess that makes sense.”
His eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe I could stand to live a little more,” you ponder, noticing the way his eyes drift down to your lips once more and quickly adding, “but that doesn’t mean you can kiss me. I’ll still bite you.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks softly, teasingly, and you nod. “What if I said I kinda like it a little rough?”
“I’d say you’re in the wrong relationship.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Haechan’s eyes widen as he points at you with a bright, triumphant grin. “I’m joking! I’m joking.”
“I don’t think you are.” he replies smugly.
“Oh, brother.”
“You think I’m in the wrong relationship?” he presses, and you shake your head vehemently, desperately trying to cover your tracks.
“Only because Winter is not a ‘likes it a little rough’ kind of girl,” you explain quickly.
He nods in agreement. “This is true.” he admits, and you relax slightly, glad he gets your point. “So, who would be the right relationship for me, hm?” he teases, and you groan loudly, tipping your head back in exasperation. “Got any ideas?”
“Nope.” you answer flatly. 
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, leaning closer. “You sure about that?”
“Miss, the rest of your order is ready!” One of the cooks calls out, and you pounce on the interruption eagerly.
“Thank you!” you call back to the cooks before turning to Haechan with a relieved smile. “You know what? We’d better go back before they put out a Missing Persons report for us.” you dodge his taunting question from earlier and carefully remove yourself from your very compromising position, walking towards the counter of the bodega to collect the bags of food. “Are you coming or what?” you huff, attempting to conceal how flustered his previous line of questioning has left you by placing a hand on your hip impatiently.
He shakes his head with a chuckle, but meets you by the door, slipping his fingers in the loops of the numerous bags weighing down your index and middle fingers to relieve you of the burden. He leans forward, opening the door for you and gesturing for you to exit first. “You’re lucky I don’t want to hear any of them complain about their food being cold, because I could do this—” he gestures between the two of you, “all night and then some.”
“That’s great, Casanova,” you drawl, pointing ahead of you down the street towards where you’re heading. “Now walk.”
As you two walk back from the bodega, you can’t help but notice that Haechan’s path keeps veering slightly off-course, the male repeatedly bumping into you as you two walk. 
“You good?” you ask finally after what must be the eighth mini-collision, and Haechan chuckles, albeit somewhat sheepishly as he brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Is there a reason why you keep bumping into me? Are the bags throwing you off-balance or something?”
“Would you, uh, believe me if I said that I just like you and want to be close to you?” he answers, and you stop short, blinking at him impassively which causes him to stop walking as well.
“Bold words for someone with a whole girlfriend back at the party.” you reply with a dismissive snort, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know what it is,” he says as you two slowly fall back into a comfortable pace. “I think we’d be good together.”
“Haechan,” you warn. 
“You fascinate me,” he admits plainly, staring at your face openly. “I wanna get to know you better.”
“Mm, I don’t know about that,” you say apprehensively. 
“I’m gonna learn about you eventually, because I’m not going anywhere.” he replies confidently. “I’m gonna learn everything about you—your hopes, your dreams, your fears—” he leans closer so his breath hits your cheek and continues, “what makes you tick.”
“Well, you wanna know something?” you offer, and he nods instantly, leaning towards you in anticipation. “Something that makes me tick is when guys with girlfriends hit on me very blatantly.”
“Ah, I see,” Haechan remarks thoughtfully. “So I should be more subtle.”
“I—well—no, that’s not really what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean?”
“Stop saying flirtatious things!” 
“So you want me to stop saying flirtatious things—”
”Yes, that’s quite literally what I just said—”
“—and start doing flirtatious things.”
Your mouth snaps shut and you stare at him incredulously. “Not even remotely what I meant.”
“No, I think that’s what you were hinting at.” 
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’d better believe it, baby.”
“Calling me ‘baby’ when you have a whole girlfriend is crazy, by the way.”
“Maybe I’m crazy. Did you think about that?”
“Clearly. I’ll let Winter know her boyfriend is actually an escapee from the insane asylum and she’ll just dump you.”
“So you can have me all to yourself… I like it.” He grins, and you open and close your mouth repeatedly, at a loss for words.
“Where are you hearing these things? Haechan, do you often hear things other people don’t?” you ask with patronizing concern, and he bursts out laughing. “It’s not funny, actually! Maybe I will tell Winter after all.”
“She won’t do anything,” he replies through his laughter.
“You’re right.” you agree in disappointment. “Poor girl. She’d probably think she can fix you.”
“I know what could fix me,” he says, fixing you in place with a serious stare.
“Haechan, you’re kinda scaring me.”
“Relax, it’s nothing crazy.”
“You’re not exactly what I’d consider a good judge of what’s crazy or not.”
“I just want your number, God.”
“Oh!” you reply, relieved, and an equally relieved smile appears on his face. “You’re not getting that.”
“Aw, come on!” he whines, leaning on you dramatically. “How am I supposed to get to know you?”
“Through speaking to me in person?”
“So you wanna see me… in person…” he trails off with a suggestive lilt to his voice, wiggling his eyebrows, and you suck your teeth. “If you like me, you can just say that, you know. I won’t tell.”
“You really are crazy.” you marvel, and he grins over at you.
“Is that… intrigue I detect in your voice?” he teases, and you balk.
“No?” you reply a bit too quickly, and his eyes light up.
“You’re intrigued by me!”
“I just wanna know how and where Winter found your crazy ass!”
“So you can go there and get yourself another me?” he replies, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Hate to break it to you, princess, but there’s only one of me.”
“Thank God for that.” you mutter under your breath. “So, do you have, like, a mute button or something?”
“I’ll shut up for the rest of the walk back if you give me your number.” he says with a mischievous smile, and you roll your eyes, Haechan’s ever-so-keen eyes noticing your hesitation. “You’re totally thinking about it.”
“I really want you to stop before you get one or both of us in trouble.”
“I will be as quiet as a street rat if you give me your number and don’t block me before I can text you.”
“Damn, how’d you know I was gonna do that?”
“I know the signs of someone playing hard to get.” he says proudly, and you snort.
“I’m not playing hard to get, Haechan. You’re playing hard to get rid of.”
“And I’m gonna play until I win. Now—your number, please.” He smiles dazzlingly at you, pulling out his phone from his back pocket and handing it to you.
You stare at his unlocked phone then at his twinkling, hopeful eyes before sighing in defeat and taking the phone from his hand to enter your number.
“Hell yeah!” Haechan cheers, and you shoot him a judgmental stare.
“Ground rules.” you say plainly, and he nods, instantly attentive. He is cute, you think reluctantly, especially like this as he hangs on your every word like a puppy. “No texting me suggestive photos.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep the texts harmless.” you warn him, and he nods in agreement.
“You got it.”
“And don’t call or FaceTime unless it’s an absolute emergency.” you finish, and he scrunches his face up in confusion.
“What if the emergency is that I want to see you or hear your voice?”
“Absolutely bonkers thing to say with a girlfriend, by the way.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I have Instagram… just look at my pictures or something, I don’t know.”
“What if I want to see you right then exactly how you are?”
“That’s too bad.”
“Fine,” he huffs, and you already know this is going to be a bad decision. “What exactly constitutes an emergency?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. If you were injured or in danger or something and no one else was picking up?”
“Okay…” he trails off skeptically.
“Even then, though, I think you should just call emergency services.”
“You’re brutal,” Haechan remarks in awe. “I like it.”
“Watch it!”
“Watching,” he replies smoothly, grinning in your direction, and you turn to face forward quickly, hoping he didn’t catch your smile. “I saw that.”
“You saw nothing.”
“You smiled. You like me—at least a little bit!”
“First you’re hearing things, and now you’re seeing things? Maybe we should get you checked out.”
“…We?” he points out with a sly smirk, and you roll your eyes as you trudge ahead and up to the apartment building, repeatedly (and with an air of impatience) buzzing the intercom to be let in.
“Thank God we’re back.”
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“Since when was the museum so damn expensive?” Chenle mutters in awe as he forks over the thirty dollars for the admission fee.
“It’s the price of knowledge,” Yunjin sighs with a shrug as she takes Chenle’s place at the ticket till and hands the attendant three $10 bills.
“Psst,” Haechan whispers to get your attention, and you turn your head slightly to see he’s leaning towards you. “This is enough to radicalize me,” Haechan huffs bitterly before releasing Winter’s hand and stepping forward to pay. You notice with a curious tilt of your head that he’s taken longer than the rest of your friends so far, despite using Apple Pay, but you don’t think much of it until he’s walked away with Winter and it’s your turn at the register, where the attendant hands you a ticket with a smile.
“Oh, I didn’t pay yet—”
“The gentleman before you paid for your ticket,” she explains with a small nod, and you pause, mentally buffering before smiling at the attendant, taking the ticket, and walking to join your group.
When you meet up with them, Haechan already has his eyes trained in your direction, his left eyelid dropping down into a secretive wink before he grins at you. 
“You’re too much,” you mouth at him, walking up beside him to nudge him with your shoulder surreptitiously. He lets out a small chuckle and shrugs as casually as he can before he tickles the palm of your hand with his fingers in a gesture that has you wondering if he plans to hold both your hand and his girlfriend’s. Before the thought can gain much traction, however, the tour guide for your group appears and introduces herself as she passes out museum maps to everyone in your party.
After introducing herself, she takes you through a corridor to the Egyptian art section, walking you by a preserved tomb and detailing funeral processions and Egyptian customs. The guide herself is very engaging and the artwork is fascinating, but you actually came on a mission to see certain wings of the museum. As she walks you through the Egyptian art wing, you consult your map, trying to see if there’s a point coming up where you can casually separate from the group. 
Initially, you were following after the tour guide, but now you’re admittedly starting to fall towards the back of the group due to your lack of interest in this particular time period, when the exhibit at the end of the hallway you just passed catches your eye. 
You look around you to see if anyone in your tour group is around, observing that the coast is clear before you attempt to break off from your group and do your own thing.
“And where are you sneaking off to?” Haechan’s voice appears out of seemingly nowhere, making you gasp as you whip your head around to look at him.
“Why?” you ask, furrowing your brows. “Are you gonna snitch on me for leaving?”
“I’m not snitching,” he promises you, and you relax slightly before he continues with, “I’m coming.”
You stop short and look at him like he’s grown a second head. “You seem to be mistaken.” 
“Definitely not that,” Haechan assures you, and you roll your eyes before quickly turning to leave. He catches up with you easily, making you huff quietly in frustration, and continues to attempt to persuade you, saying, “You need someone with you in case you get lost.”
“Haechan, if I’m with someone and I’m lost, then I’m pretty sure they’re as good as lost too.” you explain slowly, and Haechan pauses to think, leaving you the open opportunity to slip away from him yet again.
He manages to find you yet again, grinning triumphantly when he does, and argues, “I think you should travel with someone—like me—who has a map.”
“Haechan, I am quite literally holding the map they just gave me.” you remind him, and he seems to buffer in real-time, lips parting to form a shocked little “O” shape that is, for all its silliness, stupidly attractive on him.
You’ll give it to him; he’s definitely not lacking in the looks department. 
“Well—haven’t you ever heard of the buddy system? There’s safety in numbers, y’know.” Haechan catches up with you once more as you speed walk down a mostly empty hallway. 
“Oh, my God, fine.” you whisper-yell exasperatedly. “Fine, you can come with me.”
He perks up immediately, smiling brightly and you can see his body relax as you gradually slow your pace into a comfortable stroll so he can fall into stride with you.
“Great,” he says happily. “Where are we going first?”
“Well, I really want to see the Greek sculptures…” you half-say, half-suggest hopefully.
“Okay, sounds great; let’s go!”
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“Haechan.” 
“Mhm?”
“Can you walk faster, please? I’m not trying to lose a whole person in the Met.” you complain, stopping in your tracks and turning around to let Haechan catch up to you. The section you’re passing through is packed, the room filled with the din of various animated conversations all overlapping one another.
“Sorry, I’m just taking in all the art in front of me,” he replies, and your expression softens as you remember that this is, in fact, a museum exhibit you’re standing in and not merely a hallway to where you want to go.
“Yeah, the paintings are beautiful,” you agree, and he looks over at you with a confused look.
“Oh—yeah, the paintings are cool, too.” he answers unconvincingly, and you stare at him expressionlessly.
“What were you looking at if not the paintings?” you ask, confused, and he looks you up and down pointedly as if to answer your question. “You’re ridiculous,” you groan, turning to walk away.
“Oh, come on, you can’t blame me! You in that outfit is a goddamn masterpiece.” he defends himself, and you just sigh loudly as you keep walking. 
“Keep up!” you quip, and he catches up to you, leaning down slightly so his lips are by your ear.
“Don’t even get me started on this cute little skirt you’ve got on,” he murmurs suggestively, and an involuntary shudder travels down your spine from the ticklish sensation of his breath on the hair on the back of your neck. “Kinda driving me crazy,” he half-mumbles, half-chuckles.
“It can’t be that hard to drive you crazy,” you point out. “You already live on the corner of Bonkers Boulevard and Delulu Drive.”
“Wow, and you call me a menace?” he snorts in amusement, reaching over to pinch your side in retaliation and laughing when you dance away with a giggle. “Come back, I thought we had to stick together,” he complains.
You roll your eyes but stop just ahead of him, hands placed on your hips as you wait for him to catch up. 
“That’s better,” he finally says when he’s beside you once more. “You know, maybe we should hold hands.” he suggests, smiling wider and nodding vigorously in an attempt to convince you when you look over at him with a “no” already on the tip of your tongue.
“And why would we do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in a patronizing act of confusion.
“It’s crowded. What if someone walks between us and you turn to enter an exhibit but I don’t see where you went?” He frowns petulantly, and you scoff dismissively. 
“You can hold my purse,” you offer, holding it out to him.
“How is that gonna help me stay close to you?” he asks with a frown, and you shoot him a look.
“It’ll help me stay close to you,” you clarify. “All my stuff is in there, so I’m not going anywhere that bag’s not going.”
“Hm. I’d rather hold your hand but I guess this will do.” he sighs dramatically, and you snicker.
“Keep wishing.” you reply casually.
“Oh, I will. Got any loose eyelashes I can wish on and blow away?” 
“No.”
“Lucky pennies?”
“I don’t have change. Does the universe take Apple Pay?” you reply in a bored tone, and he snorts loudly in amusement.
“Man, gorgeous and funny,” he sighs contentedly, and it’s your turn to exhale in amusement. “Fine. I’ll wait until 11:11 to make the wish.”
“You know that because you told me what you’re gonna wish for, it’s not gonna come true now, right?” you remind him with a teasing smile, and his eyes widen comically.
“I’ll wish for something different.” he relents, and you can’t help but frown slightly at the crestfallen look on his face. You look around to see if anyone you know is nearby and, seeing no one, let out a defeated yet amused sigh before reaching out and linking your fingers with his. “I knew you liked me,” he remarks with an air of smug satisfaction, and you scowl at him before ripping your fingers from his. 
“...And you’re done.”
“Nope, too late,” he replies with a wide grin as he links his fingers with yours again, either oblivious to the fight you’re putting up or simply unfazed. “We’re locked in now.” he teases, and you raise your brows in a silent challenge. 
“Oh, yeah? Should I call you something cutesy like—oh,” you say, stopping mid-sentence and turning to look at him with a slowly growing mischievous smile. “What was that name Winter called you on the way here?”
“Oh, please don’t.” 
“Was it Snookums?” you think aloud, and he groans, tossing his head back dramatically.
“Please?”
“Cuddlebug?”
“No—”
“Oh!” you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “Pookie Bear.” you say triumphantly, and the grimace on his face is beyond rewarding.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Haechan says hurriedly. “In fact, I’d rather you not—”
“But I love calling you Pookie Bear, Pookie Bear.” you coo affectionately, putting extra emphasis on the embarrassing pet name to leave it dripping with saccharine sweetness.
“You know what’s kind of crazy?” he asks, and you shake your head.
“Besides you? No.”
“Ha, ha.” he drawls. “What’s crazy is that it’s kinda hot the way you say it.” he points out, and you whine loudly in protest. 
“I can’t have anything, man! I get to torment you back for less than two minutes, and your freaky little self likes it?” you gripe under your breath as you pull him towards the large sign indicating the doorway to the beginning of the Greek sculptures exhibit. “We’re here!” you announce happily.
“Anything I should know before we enter this section?” he asks curiously, and you think for a moment before nodding.
“Most, if not all, of these statues have micropenises.” you warn him, and roll your eyes instantly at the immediate amusement on his face. “Keep the dick jokes to a minimum.”
“You got it, princess.” he agrees, nodding cooperatively, and you whirl around to look at him.
“Princess?!”
“You call me Pookie Bear, I call you princess.” he says with a nonchalant shrug, and you narrow your eyes at him in a silent staredown. “It’ll grow on you,” he says confidently as he starts walking into the exhibit.
And as you’re tugged along after him, protesting all the while that “it most certainly will not,” you can’t help but feel like it already has—that is, if the sensation you’re feeling of a lone butterfly fluttering around your stomach has anything to do with it.
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“Haechan,” you whisper urgently, shaking your linked hands to get his attention.
He looks over at you curiously, eyebrows raised expectantly, and you point towards a sign in the corridor. “What is it?” he asks. “The café?”
You nod. “I’m hungry.” 
“Honestly, I could eat,” he agrees, and you beam up at him, tugging him towards the entrance to the café.
The café is lovely, with a fairly large selection of ready-to-eat foods, and you and Haechan walk around the tables of food before you spot one in the distance and slip your hand out of his to go check it out. 
No less than a moment after you’ve let go of Haechan, he practically snatches your hand back up, stubbornly linking his fingers with yours once more.
When you shoot him a look, he just stares at you with a challenge in his eyes, daring you to let go again.
“You’re something else.” you laugh, and he shrugs.
“Give a guy a warning next time,” he replies. “I wasn’t ready to let go.”
“Warning: I’m about to let go,” you say patronizingly, and he just shakes his head. “Wh—no? What do you mean, no?”
”No, you’re not.” he says simply.
“I literally am,” you let out a laugh of disbelief before attempting to tug your fingers from his again. “Haechan, quit being a brat!”
“It’s in my DNA,” he replies with a dismissive shrug. “I like holding hands.”
“Hold your own hand, then.” you snicker, and he shakes his head decisively. 
“Like holding your hand better.” he coos fondly, and you roll your eyes. “Just take me with you to check out the food, princess.”
“I’m ignoring that,” you huff, but lead him to the sushi rolls you were staring at nonetheless. “Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he confirms as he smiles over at you, and you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that threatens to greet him. “What are you gonna get?”
“Nothing crazy,” you muse, picking up a tray and inspecting the rolls inside. “Maybe just this and a drink.”
“Which one’s that?” Haechan asks curiously, peering over your shoulder. 
“California roll,” you answer with a smile before reaching into the refrigerated drink section and grabbing an organic peach soda.
Haechan follows your lead, picking up a sushi roll container and snagging a Dr. Pepper from the drink area before you two make your way to the cashier to pay.
The cashier greets you both with a friendly smile and rings you up first. When you’re about to pay, Haechan grips the back of your cardigan and firmly but gently pulls you away from the counter before tapping his phone to the payment screen.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you huff with a frown, and he just smiles as the receipt comes out.
“I’m a gentleman,” he replies simply as the cashier rings him up, and you snort in amusement.
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” you ask dryly, and he narrows his eyes at you. When it’s his turn to pay, you inch closer to the payment screen in the hopes to return the favor, but Haechan is one step ahead of you, plucking your phone from your hand with ease and pocketing it before tapping his phone to the screen again.
“Yeah, it is,” he replies with a cheery grin, smugness laced in his voice. “Come on, let’s eat.”
You two thank the cashier before heading towards the back of the café, where you sit at the corner table, Haechan sliding in beside you.
“You couldn’t sit over there?” you ask flatly, gesturing to the empty spot in front of you, and he shakes his head with a teasing smile. “Of course not.” you sigh in defeat, instead opening your California roll tray and breaking the wooden chopsticks to start eating. “What’d you get?”
Haechan pauses to look at the label on his container before opening it. “Seaside salmon roll,” he replies, snapping his chopsticks neatly into two before picking up a piece of sushi from the carefully composed roll.
“Ooh, yum,” you say before placing a piece of your own roll into your mouth and chewing, your eyes sliding shut in bliss. “God, that’s good.”
“This sushi tastes like heaven,” Haechan groans happily, and you giggle, your mood lifting with some good food entering your system. 
“Hey,” you say as you pick up your next piece, “I just realized; what if they want to get food after this?” you ask, and he shrugs.
“Either we’re not hungry, or we get something small.” he suggests, and you nod in agreement before eating the next piece of sushi.
“Are you gonna be sneaky and pay for that, too?” you ask, unamused, and he nods proudly. “I can pay for my own food, you know; my librarian job makes decent pay.”
“Yeah, well, I can pay, too. My job definitely pays decently.” Haechan replies stubbornly.
“Oh, yeah? And what do you do?” you question.
“I’m a wine sommelier for a high-end restaurant downtown.” he answers proudly, and you purse your lips in quiet defeat.
“That actually does sound like a decent-paying job.” you admit, and he nods confidently. “Well, hey, did you know they sell wine here?” 
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, looking around for the wine menu and relaxing once you point it out to him. 
“Yep. So tell me, Mr. Sommelier, which wine would go best with my California roll?” you quiz him, and his lips quirk up into a smile.
“What’s the taste like?” he asks, and you pick up a piece and put it on his tray, signaling for him to try it. “Without tasting it, I’d say a nice… light, fruity wine would be good for this.” he suggests before placing the piece of sushi in his mouth. As he chews, his smile widens and he nods in confirmation, adding, “I’d definitely say a nice Pinot Grigio would go great with this. The sweet and light notes of the Pinot Grigio would go really well with the flavors here.”
You’re not going to lie to yourself; it’s a little attractive to see him talk about something he knows so much about. 
“Yeah?” you hum. “What about yours?”
“Oh, Pinot Noir, for sure. It’s sharp enough to match the heaviness of the salmon, but not too sweet where it takes away from the overall flavor.”
You nod, taking in the information and secretly composing yourself as your insides squeal girlishly at his confident explanation.
“That’s pretty cool, Haechan,” you remark, impressed, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“Isn’t it? You know, we should go on a wine tasting date some time.” he suggests, and you shoot him a suspicious side glance.
“A wine tasting what?” you press.
“Did I say date?” Haechan asks with a chuckle, and you nod slowly, still regarding him carefully. “I meant outing. A wine tasting outing.”
“Nice save,” you snort, and he huffs petulantly.
“It’s not my fault,” he defends himself. ‘I was distracted.”
You raise an eyebrow skeptically. “Distracted?” you ask, and he nods firmly.
“Yeah, your little skirt is messing with my head.” Haechan grunts, and you look down at your lap with a bewildered questioning noise.
To be fair, it is a cute skirt; your beige and black plaid pleated skirt was carefully selected from your closet earlier and clearly must have been a flattering choice, given that Haechan literally can’t keep his eyes off of you.
“Then look up and not at my legs, silly.”
“But if I look up, I see—” he starts to complain but stops as he does just that, looking up from his—well, your—lap and trailing off slowly as he gazes at you.
You’re pretty sure you don’t need to hear what he was going to say, because his face reads loud and clear; there’s desire swimming clearly in his gaze and his lips are parted ever so slightly as he spaces out staring back and forth from your lips to your eyes.
“If you look up, you see… my face?” you supply in an attempt to help him regain his sensibility, and his lips part more as he struggles to find the right words. “I mean, yeah, and my shirt? Well, it’s a white tank—like, yeah, it’s a little short, but—and this is just a beige cardigan, so it’s not as distracting if you look up instead—”
“If I look up,” Haechan says carefully, “I see you.”
For a moment, you’re rendered speechless as the implications of his words sink in.
Looking at him again, you realize there’s an awe in his eyes as he watches you, an adoration almost, and the context of him seeing you sets in. His eyes rove over your face with an almost greed, darting around rapidly as he frantically takes in every detail he can manage to commit to memory. 
He’s not looking at you like he’s undressing you, like he’s groping you with a glance; he’s looking at you like you’re one of the seven wonders of the world—like he can’t quite contemplate everything he’s seeing, but he’s damn sure going to try. His gaze caresses you like you’re an antique artifact at the museum that could break if you so much as stare at it too hard.
Observing the way he looks at you is the closest you’ve come yet to understanding how and why the eyes have been referred to as the windows to the soul. His gaze is so open, so vulnerable and wondrous that you have to ponder, for a moment, if this is what it looks like to fall in love.
You push the thought from your head as soon as it emerges, not willing to give it any space in your mind, but you can’t shake the way his gaze completely unravels you. 
He watches you like he can see every complexity of your personality in your pores; like he can see your unspoken words reflected in the gloss on your lips—like your eyes hold the manuscript of your hopes and dreams and he’s about to pore over it, memorizing it down to the letter.
He looks at you like he’s dangerously close to seeing you; you, past your barriers and caution tape; you, with all your intricacies and contradictions; and you, with all the hope and yearning and vulnerability you’ve had since your youth that you’ve been trying to convince everyone is no longer around. 
You’re utterly overwhelmed with all the thoughts swimming in your brain at the moment, and one thought swims up to the forefront, displaying itself loud and clear and unignorable. 
He looks at you like he’s falling in love.
“Haechan, please stop looking at me like that,” you beg in a whisper, scared to speak any louder in case your voice trembles. Something about the intensity of his gaze is beautiful and terrifying all at once, and you’re not ready for him to see you unraveled like this.
Haechan must be able to sense the panic in your voice, your underlying fear of being truly seen and known undoubtedly ringing out in the silence between you two, because he smiles reassuringly and relents, softening the intensity of his gaze until he’s displaying nothing more than mild curiosity and fascination.
“Thanks.” you mutter shyly, averting your gaze to inspect your cuticles in a feeble attempt to act natural.
“No problem. Can I say something, though?” he asks, and you nod, internally bracing yourself. “Have you heard of twin flames?”
“Yeah, isn’t that like soulmates, kinda?” you reply.
something about him was made for somebody like me baby, come over, come over and god knows i’m trying, but there’s just no use in denying
“Kinda,” he says slowly. “Some people call them ‘mirror souls,’” he explains. “Essentially, they’re two people with an intense soul connection that makes them complete when they’re together.”
You pout thoughtfully. “Like two halves of a whole?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he agrees. “The term ‘mirror souls’ is a bit more fitting, because they complement each other; they’re opposites in crucial ways, but in ways that could either ruin things or make them work really well together.”
”Okay,” you say carefully. “Well, thanks for the mini lesson. Why’d you bring that up?”
“I feel drawn to you.” he explains in a rush, almost like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to say it. “Like, I can’t explain it, but when I first met you, I felt—I don’t know—something.”
“I’d wager that the something you felt was just the blood rushing down to your d—” you remark dryly, but he cuts you off, shaking his head. 
“It wasn’t.” he insists. “I felt a connection. And you felt it too—remember?”
“No,” you lie. You remember all too well, actually. 
“You flirted with me.” he reminds you with a triumphant grin, and you frown. 
“That was before I found out you were dating my friend!”
“So the connection magically went away? Hm? The initial attraction you had to me just vanished into thin air?” he presses.
“I locked it in a closet.” you admit. “It can’t come out.”
“Well, unlock it.”
“I have swallowed the key.” you reply stubbornly.
“Well, I’m picking the lock.” he counters, and you gape at him indignantly.
“You can’t do that!”
“And why not?”
“You have a girlfriend.” you remind him, and he has the audacity to scoff and roll his eyes, making you gasp in horror. “Ooh, I’m telling.”
“Who cares about that?” he asks, waving a hand dismissively.
“Um, gee, I would wager that your girlfriend does.” you reply sarcastically. “And you should care, too.”
“All that yapping—”
“I know this boy did not just say I’m yapping—”
“—and you still didn’t say that you care.” he finishes, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise. “Gotcha.”
“Oh, shut up,” you groan. “I’m not your girlfriend, you know—I don’t have to put up with this.”
“Do you want to be her?” he asks, and you freeze, staring at him incredulously.
“No? I barely know you, and from what I do know, you like stepping out on your girlfriend.”
“False. I don’t like to step out on my girlfriend,” he corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “I just like you.”
“Stop saying that.” you warn.
“I mean it.” he says simply.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble if you keep talking like that.” you reply nervously.
“The risk is so worth it though, don’t you think?” he murmurs conspiratorially, and you stare at him blankly.
”No.” you reply flatly, entirely unamused.
Haechan pouts—somehow handsomely—and nudges you with his shoulder, saying, “Come on… try living a little.” 
“No.”
”You know you want to.” he coaxes, and you grumble unintelligibly under your breath.
”What I want is for you to drop the subject,” you say, batting your lashes at him for the effect. “Pretty please?”
His gaze darkens slightly. “Beg again.”
“I didn’t beg!” you splutter, both indignant and flustered by the shift in the air. “I requested politely.” 
“Well, request politely again. You’re really cute when you do that, you know.”
”And on that note, this conversation is over. Now,” you say slowly, patting your lap and nudging him with your shoulder. “I think we should probably get back. Y’know… before they notice we went missing.”
“I guess you’re right,” Haechan agrees with a reluctant sigh, gathering your and his food containers and standing up. “Lead the way, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” you whisper loudly, and he grins cheekily as you two make your way to exit the museum café.
“Stop liking it and I’ll stop doing it.” He retorts, stopping in front of you suddenly so you bump into him. 
“Haechan!” you can’t help but laugh at his refreshingly playful nature, and he looks over at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of a brat?”
“Yes, actually.” he replies thoughtfully. “But it takes one to know one.”
You stop short and he turns back to look at you curiously. “Are you calling me a brat?”
“Yes,” he replies easily with a smile. “Yes, I am.” And before you can retaliate, he’s speed walking towards the garbage to throw out your waste, stopping just in front of the exit to wait for you. When you get closer, still staring at him with narrowed eyes, he shoots you a dazzling smile and opens the door, holding it for you.
”Ladies first.”
“Oh, now you’re a gentleman.”
“What do you mean, ‘now?’” Haechan replies, shocked. “I let you sit first, I held the door for you, I threw out your garbage for you and paid—”
“Which you definitely shouldn’t have done, by the way.” you interject, and he stares blankly at you. “Don’t get me wrong, my wallet and I appreciate you greatly, but I was more than capable of paying for myself.”
“It’s okay,” he muses lightheartedly, shrugging. “You can just make it up to me sometime.”
You pause, staring at him suspiciously. “And how would I do that?”
“I’ll come up with something,” he replies with a small secretive smile. 
“I don’t like the sound of that.” you say slowly, and he laughs, throwing his arm around your shoulders goodnaturedly. 
“It won’t be anything drastic,” he assures you. “Just something like… a kiss.”
“A kiss?” you splutter, and he grins, nodding. “You’d better be joking.”
He turns his head towards you, tightening his grip around your neck not enough to be overbearing but just enough to prevent you from turning your face away. “And what if I’m not?” His voice softens as he continues, “Hm?”
A long silence passes between you two—far longer than socially acceptable—during which Haechan stares pointedly at your mouth and you attempt to avoid doing the same. After what feels like ages, you break the tension-laden quiet by clearing your throat and walking forward and out of his embrace.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” you say over your shoulder, and Haechan chuckles as he catches up to you.
“I do.” he replies simply, and you snort. He leans over, bringing his lips to your ear, and murmurs, “And I think you like it.”
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TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the second part will be up in exactly two weeks! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!
ORRRRRR you could sub to my patreon, where the whole fic is already posted in full!! (
LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)
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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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deep-space-lines · 1 year ago
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Claire de Lune
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YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort. 
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine. 
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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gurugirl · 6 months ago
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Truth or Dare | slumber party!h
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Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.
A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6,752
Warning: smut
. . .
By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.
He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).
The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.
Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”
“Really? Surely you had friends…”
Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”
Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”
“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.
“Taxi. You?”
“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”
Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.
“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”
“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”
Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”
Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”
Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”
Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.
A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”
Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”
She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”
He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”
They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.
Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”
Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”
.                 .                 .
Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.
Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.
And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.
Right?
Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.
When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.
Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.
And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…
“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.
“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”
Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”
She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”
He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.
“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.
Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.
“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.
Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.
They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.
Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”
Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”
Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”
Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”
He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”
Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.
“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.
Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”
Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”
Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”
“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”
Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.
She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”
Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”
Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”
His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”
She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”
Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”
“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.
Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”
Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.
Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)
Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”
Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.
She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?
lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way
Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.
She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”
Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”
Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”
Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.
And it wasn’t. Not even close.
You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.
“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”
Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.
He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”
And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.
“Truth.”
She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.
“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.
Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!
“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.
He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”
Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”
“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”
Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.
She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”
Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”
He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”
“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.
“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.
Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.
Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”
“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”
She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…
“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.
She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”
“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”
Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”
Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”
She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.
He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.
She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.
Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.
Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).
“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”
Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”
She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.
She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.
She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”
A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”
He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”
Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”
He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.
Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”
She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”
She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?
Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.
Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”
She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.
His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.
It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.
He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”
She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.
Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.
Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.
He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.
She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.
“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”
Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”
Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.
“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”
She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.
“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”
She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.
Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”
Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.
She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.
She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.
“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.
Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.
“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.
“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  
Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.
He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”
She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”
“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.
“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.
“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”
He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.
When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.
“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.
“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.
When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.
Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.
She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.
When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.
“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.
“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”
Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.
“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”
Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”
She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.
She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”
Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.
“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”
The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.
He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”
Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.
Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.
So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”
When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”
He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”
She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.
His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.
He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”
She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”
He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.
Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.
She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.
With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.
Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”
She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”
Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”
Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”
He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”
. . .
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valeriapryanikova · 4 days ago
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ominous
(itsy-bitsy fanfic concept/idea/? under the cut)
[A page ripped out of a journal; the owner’s handwriting is messy and barely legible.] 
february, 29th
i'm surprised i'm not dead now.
yesterday, in the late evening, as i was painting, it started storming. suddenly and hard. one second the dark sky is clear from any clouds, and the next moment the droplets are pelting me with a surprising force. i rapidly abandoned my easel and canvas (not like there would be anything lost—the piece was dull and not working out the way i desired) in favor of seeking cover.
i was still near the village, on its outskirts, but just a bit too far from my house to reach it quickly before my whole being was drenched through and through. so i ducked into one of the huts, all of which stand empty, desolate… or so i thought, at least.
only once inside did i spot the dim, ominous, red glow of the overhead lamp; the sound of a muted conversation; the overwhelming sense of “wrong”, like i was not meant to be here. abruptly silence fell and two sets of bright eyes stared me down.
terror froze my body. i felt like a prey caught in between two predators, i could practically feel their jaws snapping around my neck.
the dredger slowly smirked at me, barring her sharp, sharp teeth. (since when are they sharp? i may not have crossed path with her often, but i swear i would’ve noticed if she had shark teeth before.) i did not stay to see if the fisherman would further react to my presence too. the control of my body returned, allowing me to let out a panicked apology for interruption and bolt out of the hut, running home at full speed.
it’s been hours since then. i couldn’t fall asleep. i’ve been up the whole night, haunted by fear. the scene of those two beasts in the darkness, ready to snap me like a twig for overhearing something (i don’t remember what exactly, all the horror of the situation evaporated all my thoughts), got stuck in my mind’s eyes. so i’ve been doing what i know how to do best—painting.
[Attached to the diary entry is a typewritten note.] 
That painter fellow is an impressionable and imaginative type. Needless to say, the actual interaction with the two fish merchants was likely a lot less… Dramatic.
The painter was reluctant to show me the painting mentioned in the last paragraph, but after some convincing I did manage to take a quick look on their recollection of the witnessed scene: it seems mostly useless for my research, but I noted down some details that might be of use in the future (refer to “AudioLog#143” transcript for more information).
Collecting data on “The Fisherman” continues to prove itself annoying. The subject is allusive: there’s not many sources mentioning him, and folk around here rarely witness him out and about. Currently the only lead I have is finding that one old newspaper article about the docks that, if I recall correctly, mentions him in an interview with workers. Perhaps, when I have time, I’ll try asking the collector from the other side of the river if he has a copy of that newspaper issue.
However, for now, I’m significantly more interested in “The Dredger” subject. There’s more than plenty info about her—I would actually say there’s too much info about her, all inconveniently inconsistent. In an attempt to get more reliable data I’m getting in contact with Mined since they have done scientific observation of this area and the people of interest. My request for access to their data has gone unanswered so far and, if shoving my anthropology degree in the faces of those bumbling idiots won’t work, I’m sure that that city nearby has enough hackers willing to do some dirty work for a pretty diamond.
I will get the data I want, one way or another.
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dyingswanpavlova · 2 months ago
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"Your girl" - Part 3 | The Salesman x Reader
Summary: He tries to be nice for once to win you over, but is he being genuine? Or will it backfire? All the while your mind is playing confusing tricks on you.
Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of rape, violence, mentions of murder, body issues, trauma talk, hinting at stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mentions of erection/arousal/masturbation, mentions of abuse earlier in life, not beta read, 18+!
"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist
"I do not intend to rape you, if that is what you think."
It was weird. The words were supposed to comfort you, right? Make you breathe easier. Instead you felt your chest tighten. Again.
Because he brought it up out of nowhere? Who could tell?
You sat on the couch, your arms wrapped around your legs like they usually were ever since you started participating in his mind games. It wasn't really like you had any other choice.
Your body, once young and healthy, albeit loaded with trauma to the brim, felt bruised and battered. It was a fight you were forced to fight every day and it felt like war. War against him, against yourself and life itself. Your face hurt horribly and it was all his fault. Or was it your own? God, you were confused.
"Don't get me wrong. I do intend to fuck you." His eyes crinkled in a smile. "Oh, I intend to fuck you again and again and again, until you feel like you're being ripped apart and you'll be begging me to stop."
There was it again, the cold sweat. Almost like an old friend you could count on.
Why didn't you have any real friends? You suddenly asked yourself. If only you had invested one of your Sundays into getting to meet at least one person. Maybe then someone would miss you now.
There was still your work. But you couldn't really tell if they'd get suspicious after you stopped coming or if maybe they simply accepted it. Your boss knew you had some issues. How you hated confrontration. He probably assumed you simply were gone for good.
Poor girl. Well, whatever, time is money. At least I get to keep her last paycheck.
But somehow you were sure that no one really missed you. No one waited for you at home. And no one cared that you still spent your days in the captivity of a psychopath. Or was it a sociopath? What was the damn difference again?
"Why don't you do it then?" You heard yourself ask.
One might think you would have learned your lesson not to talk back the day when he threw everything edible away and turned off the water supply. Or after he just beat the crap out of you.
But no, here you were, being smart with him. At least right now he didn't seem to mind. His fucked up smile was still in place.
"Because, my sweet, darling girl", he said slowly and crouched down before you, "because I want to fuck you when you're mine. I don't want scraps and pitiful silence. I'm not like the filth I threw on the train lines."
A violent shiver ran down your spine. It was the first time he mentioned the incident. For a few days you had almost asked yourself if that had really happened. And you had also asked yourself if your life so far had been a hallucination. Maybe you had always been his prisoner and maybe you had made up the role of your mother to keep yourself entertained and somehow deal with everything. They did have a lot in common.
"I want it willingly."
Odd. He didn't seem like the gentle type. Or the type who cared about consent.
"Don't mistake my words. I'm going to fuck you, no matter how you feel."
Ah.
"I don't give a shit if you feel sore, you have a headache, you've been crying or you're bleeding. I don't care if it is me who made you bleed." He leaned in so close that his warm, minty breath tickled your ear. "All the better."
For a moment, you were sure he was gonna bite your earlobe. A sound rumbled in his throat, almost like a groan and his lips were so close to your skin, you felt the wet warmth of that groan. But eventually, he pulled his head back and instead stared at you intensely.
"God, I want you."
The last two days had been weirder than usual. Instead of playing tricks on your mind and hitting you till blood trickled down your lip, he had been...considerate? It was hard to tell if that was the right word for it.
Many things were hard to tell nowadays.
It started with the dresses. He once came home - home, God help you - carrying countless bags which contained pretty and expensive dresses. All in your size and all to your liking.
Your style so far had been modest and humble, convenient mostly.
You knew that you could be pretty when you tried and wanted. Yet on most days you simply didn't care enough.
But when he came back with the dresses and left them in your room - and after you had spent enough hours sulking in the corner and being devastated about your loss of dignity when he forced you to drink water from a fucking bowl on the ground - Be a good girl and drink. I'd be really annoyed if you died of thirst. Yes, just like that. My good girl. - your curiosity finally got the better of you and you glanced into one of the bags.
Everything from silk to cashmere, with no ridiculous colors in sight. Everything was black, white, beige, cream, light rose or babyblue.
Then the lotus silk one in dark green.
It made you feel like a princess.
It felt like tiny kisses on your skin.
You couldn't help but try each and every one of them on.
And God, they felt good on you.
And eventually, you were forced to wear them. All you had was that one night dress. You had tried washing it in the sink and drying it on the radiator. But additionally to all the other bullshit he put you through, it was just too much. And so you put it on. The green one first.
The look on his face when you timidly left your room and tiptoed over to the living room had made you feel...
It made you feel...
You wanted to slap yourself until you came back to your senses, but no. It was enough when he did.
Desired. It made you feel desired.
It made you feel beautiful in a way you hadn't ever experienced before.
Sure, despite your questionable upbringing and your mother who constantly made sure you felt just below miserable, there had been men ogling you. Like the one who attacked you.
They'd stop what they were doing and glance you up and down, making sure you felt like a well-seasoned piece of meat.
Edible.
Fuckable.
But none of it was any comparison to him. The look in his eyes had been nothing short or fascination. The way his eyes gleamed and his lips parted in that soft exhale. His eyes didn't just linger on your breasts or ass. His sized you up entirely, like you were a porcelain doll to be cherished.
Of course you expected to hate the feeling.
But to your undying horror, you didn't.
You tried to think back to the many hits you'd taken from him, the humiliation and the countless tears.
And still, when he looked at you like that, you felt your cheeks grow warm and your insides tingle.
"Try them on for me." He had breathed.
You opened your mouth to protest, because that was what you usually did by now, you protested, but one look at him and it shut you up. Not because he was angry or because he had threatened you.
Because of that damn look.
You found yourself walking back to your room, your hands shaking and your heart racing. What were you doing here? Was this your life? Was this your punishment? Was he someone your mother had hired to punish you for escaping her?
You pushed all those thoughts aside and changed into the next dress. It was almost regal looking, a long white dress that hugged your body like a gentle embrace.
None of the dresses were cheap looking. They weren't even all too revealing. A little more than what you usually wore, yes, but all in all they were still kind of modest. But they highlighted your beauty in a way that made you feel exactly that.
Beautiful.
You took a shaky breath and made your way back to the living room. He had settled down on the couch, a glass of whiskey in his hand which he swirled around, lost in thought. The moment he heard you, he looked up from his glass and his eyes lit up in the same delight they had before, even more so.
He did something more now. He bit his lip.
He twirled his finger around, silently beckoning you to turn around, which you did. You turned around, almost timidly, feeling somewhat small under his assessing gaze. You still felt beautiful, but a part of you expected...
What?
That he laughed?
That he scoffed and recoiled in disgust?
Yes. Yes, that was exactly what a part of you felt he might do. Instead, he set his glass down and stood up, approaching you slowly and carefully, as though not to startle you.
You held your breath. He would hit you. You had done something wrong. You were wrong. You looked wrong. You didn't look the way he wanted you to.
He'd get rid of you.
By the time he reached you, you nearly suffocated. Your chest heaved rapidly under his scrutinizing gaze. When he lifted his hand and moved to touch your cheek, your eyes fluttered shut and you gasped.
But instead of hitting you, he...caressed you.
His touch was so gentle, more gentle than ever before. Like he was holding a delicate bird.
"Stand up straight." He breathed in your ear.
You swallowed thickly. And slowly obeyed. You fixed your posture slowly, pulling your shoulders back.
"Like that?" You whispered.
He nodded.
"Now your chin." He whispered back and gently placed a finger under your chin to lift it.
You let him guide you, feeling like his fingers left a trail of fire on their wake when he carefully ran them down the side of your neck.
"God, you're exquisite."
When you finally looked up at him, your eyes were wide and your breathing still far too quick. But his expression was calm. So calm. Almost gentle.
If he wasn't such a psychopath, he'd be really handsome, you realized. His eyes shone in a warm brown and his smile, albeit twisted, was beautiful. He was beautiful. Like a man made of marble who didn't mind getting messy.
When you realized what the hell you were thinking, you recoiled as if you’d been burned. His expression didn't waver, but he slowly pulled his hand back.
"Show me the next one." He murmured and sat back down.
You quickly made your way back and slumped down, your back pressed against the door.
What on earth was that? Were you now entirely out of your mind?
You didn't have many rules, but one of them went above all others.
Avoid him. Avoid him at all costs.
No unnecessary contact, because then you'd have less opportunities to make him angry. And maybe, just maybe, then you'd get out of the alive. You still had hope.
After a long moment of gathering your thoughts, you changed into the next dress. A soft beige cashmere dress, which hugged your curves sinfully.
You took a deep breath and made your way back. His gaze was fixed on the door and he looked at you with a subtle smirk.
"Look at that." He murmured.
You didn't know what he was referring to while you walked in there, a slight frown on your face.
"What?"
"Nothing. Turn around."
You turned around. It was easier this time. And it got easier with every dress. You changed, came in an twirled around. Changed, came in and twirled around. And at some point, his eyes started feeling almost natural on you. Like you were meant to wear those dresses for him on that particular day. It wasn't until the last dress, a beautiful, yet simple black dress, that you realized. Your stance had somewhat changed.
You stared at yourself in the mirror with a deep frown.
Was that you?
Who were you?
And how did you pull it off to show off these dresses looking almost...confident?
You made your way back, looking at him with an unreadable expression.
His face lit up at the sight and he took a sip of his drink.
"My favorite by far. That and the green one."
You stared at him speechlessly. What on earth were you supposed to do with that information?
He approached you slowly, with that predatory air on him as he slowly circled you, looking you up and down.
"Do you like the dresses?" He asked slowly.
"Yes." You whispered.
"Good." He smirked. "Then thank me."
You slowly, almost carefully, looked up at him. Did he expect...you to...
"Thank me." He whispered.
"Thank you for the dresses." You whispered back.
And just like that, he smiled in satisfaction.
"You're very welcome. They all look wonderful on you."
He sat back down and beckoned you to sit beside him, which you reluctantly did. You tried to keep your knees from bouncing up and down nervously and folded your hands in your lap.
"Who are you?"
You simply stared at him. Because you knew, every time you answered the question, even if you said the right words...Something bad happened. So, this time you stayed silent.
He took a slow breath and leaned closer.
"Who are you?"
"Please." You whispered. "Please, don't."
His expression immediately darkened and he took a tight hold of your chin.
"Answer the goddamn question."
"Your girl." You said quietly, but you were unable to meet his eyes as you did. "I'm your girl."
He hummed softly.
"Why?"
You blinked. "Why?"
He nodded. "Yes. Why?"
Suddenly your throat felt dry. You liked to think that you were actually pretty clever. But whenever you spoke to him, you felt like a complete idiot.
"Because I...I just am."
He raised a brow. "You just are?"
"I don't know what you want to hear."
His grip on your face loosened slightly and he shook his head.
"Do you despise me?" He suddenly asked. There was no emotion in his tone, just pure calculation.
You blinked again. You were almost sure you were going to die tonight. Too bad. The pretty dress would end up soaked in blood.
"I..."
"Because just a few minutes ago, you looked at me like you want me."
Suddenly you felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Actually, you had hoped he hadn't caught on that moment of weakness.
"That's not true." Somehow you managed to force a certain firmness in your voice.
He just smiled. "It's alright, sweet girl. You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. I know you’re ashamed. That’s fine. But a part of you likes me."
"But it isn't true!"
He tsked. "Listen, why don't you calm down and then we'll-"
"I could never like you!" You called out before you could think about. "I could never want a twisted person like you. You know what? There's a reason why no one ever loved you and why no one ever will. You're simply evil and there's nothing good or loveable about you. Nothing at all."
It felt like one of those horrible moment in apocalypse movies, just a moment before a protagonist is going to die. You knew you had fucked up. You just couldn't tell how bad yet.
By the time you managed to carefully lift your gaze to meet his, you got struck by unease. You could practically follow the shift in his eyes. From teasing and playful to something darker, something dead. He didn't even need to drop the smile. His eyes spoke loud enough.
"I'm sorry." You whispered breathlessly.
You couldn't even tell why you had said that, why the statement that you found something likeable about him had triggered you so badly. You weren't normally this reckless. This suicidal.
"I'm sorry." You whispered again, when he didn't move. "I don't know what came over me. Please. Forgive me. Please, I..."
The coldness in his eyes made you shut up. The man who called you exquisite and asked you to twirl around like a ballerina was gone. And you immediately knew he wasn't going to forgive you.
But what was even worse was that for some reason you felt so terrible for what you had said. Usually, you were pretty kind to everyone and didn't just go around saying hurtful things. If your words reached and hurt him didn't matter. What mattered was that you said them.
Immediately tears stung your eyes and you forced your gaze away from his. God, he would kill you.
And this time you were certain.
So, you weren't truly surprised when he roughly forced your back onto the sofa and straddled you. But you were still scared shitless. Your breath hitched and suddenly, just like that, you couldn't breathe again and you were mute. Betrayed again.
He pinned your wrists above your head and pushed you down with a rough movement, grinding down his hips against yours and forcing your legs apart.
First he would take what he wanted and then he would kill you.
Despite you being mute and frozen, you were still crying. Your body was being shaken by sobs and it only ever seemed to make him angrier.
"It appears to me", he growled furiously, "that you forgot your place."
You quickly shook your head, desperate to make him understand just how much you regretted what you had said, but before you could even try to open your mouth, a firm slap made you cry out in pain.
"No, please-"
There was your voice. And there went another slap. The intensity of it made you cry out as your head lolled to the side.
"Where is your place?" He growled. But before you could respond, he hit you again, all the while you felt his hardness pressed against you, ready to ruin you.
He had never done that before.
Sure, he had hit you when you got something wrong in a game, but he had never straight up beaten you for speaking.
Or what was even worse, he hadn't forced himself on you.
You had sensed the hardness between his legs once before, after he had made you drink the water from a bowl on the floor. But he hadn't mentioned it, hadn't made you look there, let alone touch it. He had skillfully ignored it and probably taken care of it himself afterwards.
He hadn't tried to kiss you.
Hadn't tried to reach between your legs.
Hadn't let you feel him.
But now you felt it, hard and urgent, straining against his pants and then your dress.
You had never felt a man like this before.
What a weird thought to have in this kind of situation.
"Please." You finally managed to sob out. "Please, I swear to you, I'll never do it again. I'll make up for it, please let me make up for it."
By the time his hand shot out for the sixth slap, you felt yourself go dizzy. Your face burned like fire under his palm and everything around you slowly went blurry. Your sight as well as the way you tried to hold your eyes open. They slowly blinked shut.
"I'm sorry." You whispered exhaustedly.
"Don't you dare pass out on me right now." He hissed and tightly grasped your chin.
When, instead of answering, you murmured something inaudible, he sighed deeply.
"Fuck." He murmured. His touch on your face grew softer. Then he slowly tilted your chin up, examining your face.
"I marked your pretty face." He said in a bland tone. You didn't say anything back.
"But I had to remind you that you don't just get to say and do anything you want." He gritted out. He was obviously still furious.
You didn't understand why he sounded like he was trying to justify his actions or why he even cared if you passed out. You had actually expected him to go off on that.
As if on cue, he reached down and carefully adjusted his pants, letting out a soft sigh at the touch.
You felt him press against you for a moment longer. He was obviously fighting with himself. Despite everything, the friction caused a nervous twitch in your lower body. He seemed to notice it and checked your expression. Eventually he forced himself away from you. He got up and ran his hands through his hair.
"Take a nap and calm down. I'll be back in a while."
With quick steps he disappeared to his bedroom. For a short, reckless moment you caught yourself thinking; he'll be occupied fucking his hand for at least five minutes. If you go and find the keys he always carries around when he leaves...
But your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of him. It was barely audible. You were sure you weren't even supposed to hear it. But you did. A moan. He moaned.
You closed your eyes. Oh God.
He had managed it. He had messed up your brain even more than it already was. Instead of crying, because your face hurt like hell, you felt a certain warmth spread through you.
Honey, you cannot seriously-
Shut up, mother.
You heard him again and now you were sure. You felt yourself grow wet. Immediately, your face flared up in even more heat and your breath caught in your throat.
What on earth was wrong with you?
He had nearly killed you, nearly taken you, nearly-
"Ah, oh, fuck." He groaned.
Your brows furrowed and you took a shaky breath. You could almost see it in your mind. The way his hand slowly slid down his chest. It made your heart skip a beat.
Enough!
You jumped up and scurried back to the bathroom. You locked the door and paused before the mirror. The sight made you wince. He had indeed marked you up. His hand, angrily imprinted into your cheek. You gingerly reached out to touch it, but stopped short of your skin.
He had done this to you. Just as he had done so many other things to you.
You were trapped in these godforsaken halls.
All you had wanted to do was go home after a long day of work, read a book in silence and eat a warm meal. Instead you got trapped into this hell, where he slowly manipulated his way under the trauma that had been cursing through your body and mind for years.
He destroyed all the walls you had built up, all the aid you had taken to repair the little sanity that was left in you.
The little confidence. The little love. The little you.
Now it was all gone.
You felt a tear run down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away. The touch made you wince in pain, it was rather harsh. You couldn't help it. You were angry.
You were so, so angry.
Why was it that no one could ever be good to you?
Why did you always attract the attention of twisted people?
You didn't deserve that. You didn't want it. And God, you didn't ask for it.
You had been a sweet child. Innocent and curious as every child is. Until your mother, who knew nothing but hate by day and pain at night, turned you into a shell of a person. And when you finally, finally made it out of her chokehold and you thought you could now live your life in peace, happily ignoring everything wrong in your life, he came.
He came and destroyed your fragile peace.
With shaky hands you leaned down and splashed your face with cold water. You carefully dried it up and stood like that for a while, holding onto the sink tightly.
And you made a silent promise to yourself.
You would get out of here and get your peace back.
The night was quiet. He didn't try to approach you, punish you, torture you in any way. He simply let you sleep.
The second your face touched the pillow, you passed out.
The morning went on just as quiet. You took a quick bath, before you put on one of the horrible dresses. You didn't care which one, you just wanted this to get over with.
The rest of your life.
After you spent two hours pacing the room, you decided you needed to speak to him. Ask him nicely maybe. Or steal his gun and murder him. You didn't care anymore. You needed to get out.
With quick, determined steps you stormed out to the kitchen and were surprised to find it empty. The other rooms were empty as well. You even gathered all your courage and knocked on his bedroom door. When no answer came, you sighed and went back to the kitchen.
Maybe he had abandoned you. He had thrown away all the food and he would come back in a few days after you died of starvation. Yes, that sounded reasonable.
But to your great surprise, that wasn't the case. Instead, on the kitchen table stood a gracious amount of food. Everything from rice and beans, to spinach and even…lemon cake.
You frowned as you thought back to the second day with him.
"What does always manage to cheer you up?"
"Mostly books." You had whispered, after he had just finished nearly choking you to oblivion, because you had answered another question to his displeasure. "But when things are remarkably bad, then lemon cake."
You stared at the cake as if it was poisonous. Which it probably was. You took a step closer and then you saw the note.
Sorry.
That was it. Just sorry. Sorry?
Your eyes widened as you stared down at it.
What was this?
Did he actually apologize?
You didn't care that it was written on a post-it. The word on the post-it was Sorry.
You had to sit down, because you felt like your knees were about to give in.
After a long moment of simply staring down at it, you reached out and took a bite of the lemon cake.
It was fruity and sweet and everything good in the world.
You took another bite and choked back your sobs.
After he came home, he didn't say anything for a long while and so didn't you. Just a quick glance of acknowledgement.
He didn't comment on how you sat there, reading. Of course you expected him to beat you down with the book. But he didn't. Instead he averted his gaze and disappeared into his room.
And he didn't say anything for the rest of the day either, until suddenly he declared that he didn't intend to rape you and so the conversation dragged on.
You felt especially snarky today, after yesterday he got so angry and took it out on you. After he awkwardly vanished and you heard him. After you remembered that you didn't deserve to be treated like shit, right after you had felt incredibly aroused, because you heard him touch himself.
"God, I want you." He breathed in your ear. And then you did the unthinkable. You pushed him back. The movement was gentle. But you pushed him back.
He growled deep in his throat and seconds later the vase from the coffee table crushed against the wall in a loud scatter. At least it wasn’t you who flew into the wall.
You would have winced from the sound. But it was so sudden and somehow almost funny. But you knew better than to smirk.
"Who are you?" He hissed.
You stayed silent.
He took a long, slow breath. Then he reached out and touched your cheek, his fingers digging into your bruised skin, making you flinch. He raised his hand like he was going to slap you again. You wanted to cower in fear, but you forced yourself to keep looking at him, your eyes wide.
He kept staring down at you and slowly lowered his hand back down.
"You're still beautiful." He said quietly.
You didn't expect him to say that or the way his fingers gently trailed down your cheek. You inhaled sharply and slowly closed your eyes. It was like trusting a bear to guard your life, when it was covered in honey.
"Are you going to hit me again?" You whispered.
After a beat, he quietly said: "No."
His mood swings were terrifying, but you knew there were far scarier things about him.
Like the way his eyes darkened whenever he got really angry. Which was often the case.
Or the way he hummed whenever you did something wrong.
Or the way he made you weak and scary enough, not entirely in a bad way. You were certain he had manipulated you into thinking this. Into, somehow, caring. This was the worst that could happen to you. The absolute worst.
He sighed. "Sweet girl, are you..."
You needed to get the hell out of here. And quickly. So, maybe, maybe, if you just played along…
Maybe then you would get out alive. All you had to do was play along. All you had to be was…
“I’m your girl.”
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strawberrysznn · 11 days ago
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How to find the best version of yourself that you'll fall in love with
As someone who has gone through SO many versions of herself and is now slowly growing to be a person she's genuinely happy and in love with
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Trust me when I say I've had a lot of identities these past few years. It took me a lot of time to really find the best version of myself, the version that I'm genuinely happy with, the version that my 10 year old self would have looked up to. However, it's different for everyone. The definition of an "it girl" to me might be different from your definition, and the personality and life that truly feels me might not suit you. So, please take note that this is highly subjective and it's all about you and what works for you.
The one and only thing I did to rebrand myself: I created a character.
I gave my character a new name. You can give yours your current one or a nickname. I gave mine my second name. I built this character, I envisioned her, I turned her into a realistic person that I knew I'd look up to.
Basically, create an alter ego. And it wasn't easy to curate this character for me, it took a lot of time for me to build her into someone that I'd want to be, someone that still has flaws but embodies the energy and lifestyle I want.
Know what you want. How does this new you act? What do they like and dislike? What matters to them? How do they impact the people around them? What are they like? How would you describe them? What are their flaws and how do they deal with it? What are the bad habits they got rid of?
Make sure this version you want feels like you. This isn't about turning into another person, it's about growing as a person. It's about looking in the mirror and loving what you see with no doubt and no regrets. It's about knowing what you want and taking it right away, and it's about taking control of your own life and shaping it into one that you will fall in love with every single day.
Look up to this person. Get to know this person, know every single thing about them. Make sure that as you create this alter ego, it's truly someone you'd 100% look up to.
Fall in love. Personally, this part is my favorite. I start to visualize and imagine this person so much that I completely fall in love with her. This version is me, truly me, and utterly me. It's not someone else, it's the person I want to be because everything about this person feels like me. I start to romanticize growing and becoming this person, slowly shaping myself, changing my lifestyle, taking action, taking initiative, and building myself and my life brick by brick to fall in love with what I see in the mirror.
Take action and build yourself up. Slowly embody this person. You can't change overnight, but you can grow and shape yourself step by step.
This is NOT about turning into someone else. This isn't about changing yourself to be more likeable or to please others. This is all about knowing what direction you want to go and taking it. Make sure this character is realistic and truly you. Do not try to be someone you won't be happy with, be someone that will make it easier for you to love yourself. Don't become someone that will only push you beyond your limits and break you, become someone who can take control of their own life enough to build their life solely for themselves.
Find yourself, find the best version of yourself, and you'll know what path to take. All you have to do now is take the path.
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paddockletters · 5 months ago
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baby face
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paring: lando norris x reader summary: When you jokingly tell Lando to shave off his beard, you never expected him to turn the tables on you. request: yes / thank youuuu so much
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I was sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through my phone when Lando walked in, scratching at his chin. He had this tiny bit of scruff growing in—barely there, but enough for him to make a big deal out of it. He was clearly proud, but I couldn't help but tease him.
“Lando,” I called out, trying to suppress a grin. “When are you gonna get rid of that?”
He looked at me with mock offense, his fingers still grazing his chin. “What, this? You don’t like it?” He waggled his eyebrows, leaning against the doorframe.
I raised an eyebrow, biting back a laugh. “Babe, you barely have anything there. It’s like... baby beard.”
He gasped dramatically, walking over to me. “That’s rude. I’ve been working on this masterpiece for days!”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him, chuckling. “If you’re gonna grow a beard, at least commit. This is... well, it’s cute, but not really doing much.”
He stood there, hands on his hips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, you want it gone?”
“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Smooth baby face Lando is the one I like.”
Without warning, he swooped down, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. I let out a squeal, half laughing and half surprised.
“Lando! Put me down!” I managed through my laughter, swatting at his back.
“Oi, where are we going?” I asked, giggling as he dragged me toward the bathroom.
“You want it gone, you’re gonna have to do it yourself,” he said, his tone low and teasing. Before I could protest, Lando had scooped me up effortlessly, setting me down on the bathroom counter. I gasped, caught between laughing and trying to keep my balance.
“Lando!” I swatted his arm, but he just grinned, stepping between my legs as I sat perched on the counter. His hands landed firmly on my thighs, holding me there as he tilted his head toward me.
“There’s the razor,” he said, nodding to the corner of the sink, his face far too smug. “Go on then. Shave it off if it’s bothering you that much.”
I raised an eyebrow, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he said, still smirking. His hands squeezed my thighs gently, leaning in just enough to make me flustered. “You wanted it gone, yeah? So, have at it.”
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” I muttered, but I couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corners of my lips. Reaching over, I grabbed the razor and pointed it at him like a sword. “You sure about this? I might just leave you with one eyebrow.”
His laugh was low, eyes locked on mine. “I trust you. Kinda.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned on the tap, running the razor under the warm water. He watched me, his face inches from mine, and for a second, I wondered if this was his plan all along—some excuse to get me this close, to make me flustered.
“Hold still,” I said, trying to sound serious but failing miserably. Lando’s grin didn’t fade as I carefully pressed the razor to his jaw, starting with the faintest patch of stubble near his chin.
“Not bad,” he said, watching me intently as I worked. His hands never left my thighs, keeping me in place as I concentrated on not nicking his skin.
“Oh, shush. You’re lucky I haven’t drawn blood yet,” I quipped, carefully moving the razor along his jawline.
His eyes stayed fixed on mine the entire time, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Lando smirked, one hand sliding up to rest on my waist, his thumb brushing against my hip. “Maybe a little. But you’re doing a pretty good job.”
“Of course I am,” I said, trying to sound confident despite how my heart was racing. “Better than you would’ve done, probably.”
As I finished up the last bit of stubble, I stepped back slightly, giving him a final once-over. “There. Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
He ran a hand over his now-shaven face, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at me. “Not bad, y/n. You’ve got a future in this.”
I tossed the razor back on the sink and playfully swatted his arm. “Yeah, well, don’t make a habit of it. You still owe me for doing your job.”
Lando laughed, his hands sliding back to my hips, pulling me closer to the edge of the counter. “What, you think this was about the beard?” he asked, voice low and teasing as he leaned in closer. “I just wanted an excuse to get you up here.”
I blinked, feeling my breath hitch as his lips brushed against my ear. “You sneaky—”
Before I could finish, he kissed me, soft and lingering, cutting off whatever sarcastic comeback I had in mind. His hands tightened their grip on my waist, pulling me even closer, and for a moment, I forgot all about the razor, the teasing, everything.
When he finally pulled away, his grin was smug as ever. “Told you it wasn’t about the beard.”
I rolled my eyes, though my heart was still racing. “Next time, just say you want a snog instead of dragging me into your grooming routine, alright?”
He chuckled, his forehead resting against mine. “Where’s the fun in that?”
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nebulaafterdark · 7 months ago
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A Marriage For Love
Summary: When Y/N and Aegon receive news that they cannot wed, they flee King’s Landing for a simple life in Bravvos. Upon returning to visit their families, they find themselves face to face with the consequences of their actions. Cheesy, targcest, idiots in love. Based off this request.
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“We mustn’t allow them to carry on like this!”Alicent shouts.
“I agree,” Rhaenyra says, heartily. “Keep your son away from my daughter.”
“Keep your daughter away from my son!” Alicent bites out. “She should begin preparing for her marriage to the Lord of the Riverlands as Aegon should be spending more time with Helaena.”
“Mayhaps there is a simpler solution.” The King sighs, with a hand to his head.
“What is it you suggest, father?” Rhaenyra wonders.
“We might betroth Y/N and Aegon.” He smiles, looking between his daughter and wife.
“You may betroth my firstborn son to her…plain featured daughter when I am cold and in my grave.”
“Alicent!” Viserys roars.
Aegon wastes no more time listening to them quarrel, setting off in search of Y/N. He finds her in the library, as she often is. “Y/N,” he kneels before her chair. Closing the book and using his finger against the binding to hold her place.
Y/N looks up at him. “What is it?”
“There is something I must tell you.” From the time they were small, Y/N has been the one to hold his secrets.
“Speak it,” she squeezes his wrist.
“Only moments ago my father offered to betroth us, our mothers rejected the proposal. They want your hand for some River Lord and mine for Helaena.”
“No.”
Aegon cups her face in his hand. “Come away with me. We can build a new life, together. It may not be as lush, but it will be ours. You will still have your cakes as they please you, I swear it.”
“You would do that for me?”
“I would do more for you and worse.” Aegon smirks.
“Well…what shall I bring?” Y/N asks, ignoring the pang of guilt in her chest.
“Pack sparingly, a change of clothes or two. We’ll need gold and jewelry to trade; enough to get us started.”
“Where will we go?”
“One of the free cities,” he decides, “no one will be looking for us there. And it does not have to be forever, long enough for us to get married. If we’ve a child, they’ll have no choice but to honor our union.”
“Alright,” Y/N swallows.
“Go now,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “Meet me at the dragon pit in one hour’s time.”
The princess nods, nuzzling against him for just a moment before they break apart.
By the time anyone comes looking for them, Y/N and Aegon are long gone. Leaving behind only a note.
‘If you will not allow us to marry for love, we will do so elsewhere.’
King Viserys is so distraught at the news, he passes with the shock of it.
Rhaenyra takes her place as Queen, refusing to rename her heir.
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Life is different in Braavos, no maids, dragon keepers nor castle. Aegon cuts his hair up to his chin on the day of their wedding, freeing himself from the memories it holds.
There are rumors of course, about the town baker and his wife, the tailor, who may or may not be the long lost prince and princess. Their dragons do nothing to disprove these whispers, however they do stop them from reaching the Red Keep.
Years pass, news breaks that Y/N is with child, growing rounder by the day.
After a long day’s work, Aegon is exhausted, shucking off his boots near the door of their humble abode and bringing his wife an offering of sweets.
Y/N smells Aegon before she sees him, calling out from the kitchen, “what have you brought me today, husband?”
“What if it were for me, spoiled thing?” Aegon chuckles, lying his offering on the counter to wrap his arms around her. Their babe kicking at his palms.
Y/N reaches back, cupping his cheek. “Best turn about and fetch mine then.”
He smiles, pressing kisses to her shoulder. “How is our little dragon treating you?”
“Well enough,” Y/N sighs, stirring the broth. “I have not wretched this day.”
“That is good.” He pats her belly. “I brought you cake.”
“What kind?”
“Dinner first, my heart.” Aegon insists.
“Or I could have cake for dinner.”
Aegon sighs, as she leans into him.
“Please?”
“Very well.”
Y/N turns to face him, abandoning her cooking in favor of his kiss. “Thank you.”
————————————————————————
Bringing their love into the world is a long and grueling task, Aegon keeps her spirits up as best he can. Unfortunately there is only so much a man can do for a laboring wife.
Y/N is exhausted by the time she delivers the afterbirth, fighting sleep as she nurses their newborn daughters. A task she deems horribly painful in itself.
Aegon strokes her hair, whispering words of love and encouragement until the babes are satisfied. “You rest now, I will bathe them.”
His wife does not protest, allowing her heavy eyes to close.
Neither of the twins cry, until gods forbid he sets them down. “Shh,” Aegon hushes them, taking one in each arm. “Papa put you down for only a moment, surely you cannot be held at all times.”
The babe on the left yawns, stretching out her little arms. The babe on the right merely blinks at him.
Until they learn to crawl, Dahlia and Visera are indeed held at all times.
————————————————————————
By the time their sons are born, Y/N often tells stories of her family back in King’s Landing. Her mother especially, who she wishes to meet them.
Aegon returns from the dragon’s nest with two new eggs, one for each of their boys. “Stormborn and Sunfyre are thoughtful, they deliver us clutches in pairs.”
Y/N smiles, from their dragons came an egg for each of their children. “Let’s see.” She waves her husband over.
Their eldest son, Laenor, toddles toward him, pointing to the bright golden egg, “mine.”
“Ah, ah, hold on just a moment now.” Aegon says.
“Please?” The two year old pouts.
“Yes, alright.” Aegon sets the dark blue egg down beside his wife and youngest son. “We must be careful with it now, sit in Papa’s lap. We’ll hold it together, hmm?”
Laenor claps his little hands together, reaching up for his father.
Aegon backs up to the arm chair, holding the egg above his head, “climb up.”
Laenor furrows his brow, crawling into his father’s lap.
“There we are, my boy.” Aegon holds the egg infront of him, allowing Laenor to touch the egg’s scales.
“Look, Papa.” He points.
“I see, my love. Soon it will be a little dragon, just for you.”
Laenor squeals in delight, “Mama, look.”
“I see it, sweet boy. That is a lovely egg.” Y/N grins.
Dahlia and Visera play happily on the floor with their own dragons, still small enough to tote about.
At all of six months old, Aegon the fourth has no understanding of the word gentle, he slaps at the egg like a drum.
“Aegon!” Y/N can’t help but laugh, moving him away. “You must be kind to your dragon.”
“Him fly!” Laenor tells his brother, who merely stares back at him with a toothy grin.
“Yes, he will fly.” Aegon smooths down the curls at the back of his son’s head.
“When your uncle Joffrey, was born Ser Harwin took Jace, Luce and I down to the dragon pit to find the perfect egg.” Y/N recounts, with a far off look in her eyes. “He must be a man grown now.”
Aegon clears his throat, praying he does not live to regret what he murmurs next. “What if we went to visit your mother?”
“Well…” Y/N sighs, patting her son’s legs as he climbs over her. “We couldn’t.”
“Why not?” Aegon challenges, “it’s a short trip on dragon back.”
Y/N stares down at her hands, “my mother must be very angry at me.”
“My mother was never anything but angry with me.” Aegon chortles, “Rhaenyra will get over it.”
“Are you certain?” Y/N frowns, “I know how you detest court.”
Aegon nods, “for you, the world.”
————————————————————————
Word spreads through the streets of King’s Landing like wildfire. Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon have returned to them.
Daemon is the first of their family members to cross their path, all but dragging Y/N to his wife in the throne room.
“You wait here,” he barks at Aegon. Leaving him outside with the children. “Princess Y/N Velaryon,” Daemon calls upon their entrance.
Rhaenyra moves to stand.
The king consort leaves them to it.
“Your grace, I would first like to apologize for my long absence.” Y/N says, as her mother stalks toward her; expression unreadable.
Rhaenyra pulls her daughter into her arms, cradling the back of her head. “You must never do that to me again.”
“Mother,” Y/N cries, clinging to her like a child. “I am so terribly sorry.”
“Shhh,” Rhaenyra sways her. “We can still make this right.”
“I should like that very much.”
“You need only say the word and I will have your marriage annulled.”
“What?” Y/N withdraws, “no. You cannot annul our marriage, it’s been consummated…several times over. We’ve children.”
“Children?” Rhaenyra sucks in a breath.
“Two daughters and two sons.”
“Might I see my grandchildren?”
“Of course,” Y/N holds up a finger, dashing over to the throne room doors and inviting her family inside.
The children scamper in as Rhaenyra’s eyes well with tears.
Dahlia stares at her grandmother in wonder, while Visera clings to Aegon’s leg.
“This is my mummy,” Y/N tells her children, “remember how I told you?”
Laenor moves toward her first, waving his hands.
“Well hello, my prince,” Rhaenyra bends down to greet him. “Who might you be?”
He smiles, “up.”
Rhaenyra huffs a laugh, taking him into her arms. “That’s quite a name, Prince Up.”
“It’s Laenor,” Y/N says, bringing Dahlia closer, with their hands clasped together. “This is Dahlia.”
“Good morrow,” Dahlia smiles.
“Good morrow, Dahlia. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Rhaenyra beams, “if you could put in a good word for me with your sister, it would be much appreciated.”
“Visera is shy.” Dahlia whispers, “but she will come round.”
Aegon the fourth kicks his chubby legs, squirming about in his father’s arms as they approach the Queen.
“My goodness.” Rhaenyra turns to him, “what a warm welcome.”
The little boy squeals, as Y/N takes him from Aegon, freeing his arms for Visera, who hides her face in his shoulder.
“And this is Aegon, the fourth.” Y/N smiles, presenting him to her mother.
Rhaenyra grins, “hello, sweet boy.”
He covers both eyes, with his little hands, babbling loudly.
“You are a delight.” Rhaenyra reaches a hand out, tickling his belly. “I should like you all to join us in the grand hall for supper tonight. We will feast, in your honor.”
“Mother, we did not prepare clothes for a feast.” Y/N tells her. “But if you’ve material, I will make do. In these past years, I have learned to stitch quite well.”
“And I could assist in the kitchens.” Aegon offers.
Y/N’s eyes light up, “you must taste his baking, mother. It is divine.”
Rhaenyra shakes her head. Not sparing a glance at her half brother, “you are my guests. I will have gowns and robes sent to your rooms. You will find everything as you left it.”
Y/N smiles, “we’ll see you for dinner then.”
The Queen nods, excusing them.
Y/N and Aegon lead the children away from the throne room, up the stairs toward Y/N’s old apartments. Meeting her younger brother and his heavily pregnant wife on the stairs.
“Sister?” Jacaerys blinks at her.
“Jace!”
“My love, might you find Luce and Joffrey?” Jacaerys asks of his wife. “Tell them our sister is here.”
“Of course, husband.” Baela leans in as his lips brush her cheek.
“You’re going to be a father?” Y/N grabs for his arm.
“I am a father.” Jace grins, “this will be our third.”
“Has it been that long?”
“Some seven years, sister.” Jacaerys looks to the children behind her. “And you,” he laughs, “have more to show for it than I do.”
Again Aegon is left standing off to the side as Y/N’s family fuss over her and their children. He is glad for it, surely. This is her dream, not his.
“Aegon?” Alicent gasps at the sight of him.
He turns to her slowly, “Mother?”
The Dowager Queen grimaces, “a word?”
“But of course.” Aegon steals one last glance at his wife and children before following his mother down the corridor. For a moment he thinks she might embrace him, until she grabs his face harshly between her fingers.
“What were you thinking?” Alicent seethes, “taking off like that? Putting your father in such a state of distress; his illness took him not even a day after receiving word that you stole his only granddaughter and heir to the throne.”
“Stole her?” Aegon huffs a laugh, “I did not steal her.”
“Did you not think for one second of the shame it would bring on your siblings, or me?”
“As you thought of my wants when you promised me to Helaena?” Aegon spits back.
“It was expected of you,” Alicent seethes.
“Only my supposed wrongdoings are ever clear to you.” Aegon scoffs, “so strike me for it, as you always do and let us be done with it. How dare I desire to marry the one person in the world who loved me?”
Alicent recoils as though he’s slapped her.
“Aegon?” Y/N calls for him, “where’ve you run off to?”
“I’m just here, darling girl.” Aegon replies, striding away from his mother.
“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks, holding a hand out to him.
“All is well, my dearest love.”
————————————————————————
Dinners at the Red Keep have not been this tense in years. Namely because the Blacks and Greens rarely break bread together.
Jacaerys’ and Baela’s children dance with their cousins as the quartet plays merrily, the six of them becoming fast friends.
Y/N laughs, pointing toward their eldest son. “Look, my love.”
Aegon leans his head closer to hers peering around his brother. Laenor spins round in circles until he is dizzy enough to fall over. When he is able to stand, he goes straight back to it. Aegon chuckles, “we’ll need to keep an eye on that one.”
“Without doubt.” Y/N remarks, bouncing Aegon the fourth in her lap. He grabs a fistful of her mashed potatoes.
“Oh my,” Aegon grabs his hand, wiping it clean with his napkin.
“You’d like dinner too, wouldn’t you?” Y/N says, turning the boy toward her.
Little Aegon coos at her.
Aegon presses a kiss to his son’s cheek.
“Won’t you excuse me for a moment,” Y/N addresses the table, “I need to feed him.”
“We’ve nurses,” Daemon offers. “You’re welcome to finish your meal.”
“That’s quite alright,” Y/N says, pushing away from the table. “We’ve survived without nurses thus far.”
Aegon catches her hand, “will you return or shall I bring the children up when they are through?”
“I will return, shortly.” Y/N squeezes his fingers before moving down the row of chairs into the hall.
Aegon clears his throat, as other occupants of the table eye him, warily. “Lovely meal.”
“Indeed,” Otto agrees.
————————————————————————-
Y/N wakes the next morn to rays of sun shining through the large window of her childhood bedchamber.
Aegon feels her begin to stir, tightening his hold around her waist.
“What did your mother say to you yesterday?”
“It is far too early to raise this matter, my heart.” He grumbles.
Y/N huffs, toying with his fingers. “She was awful to you, wasn’t she?”
Aegon presses his lips to her shoulder, “it matters not.”
“It matters to me.”
Days pass, Y/N does not press the subject. Though she does exercise every opportunity to glare at her mother by law.
They spend afternoons in the courtyard garden, with their children. Picking flowers to make crowns, finding shapes in the clouds.
“Just there I see a rabbit.” Visera tells her mother and father.
“Where?” Aegon cocks his head to the side.
“There’s the ears and there’s its tail.”
“Oh, I see.” Aegon spots it, “that’s quite a coat of fur on him, hmm?”
Aegon the fourth plucks petals from the wildflowers Dahlia weaves together, sighing as she does.
“What troubles you, my love?” Y/N asks, passing a hand over her silver waves.
“Everyone has been so kind and happy to receive us…though no one seems happy to receive father.” Dahlia says, taking one of the flowers and tucking it behind her Papa’s ear.
“That is the way of things, my darling.” Aegon smiles, sadly.
“We are happy to receive him.” Y/N insists. “Give father a big hug.”
Laenor sees the pile of bodies, throwing himself on top of his elder sisters.
“Squeeze him as tightly as you can and say ‘I love you, father.’”
“I love you, father!” Even Aegon the fourth chimes in, with a loud approving babble.
“I love you too.” Aegon tells his children, wrapping his arms around them.
“I think if no one is kind to you, we ought to go back home.” Visera whispers to him. “It needn’t be the way of things.”
“Too right you are, my darling.” Y/N breathes.
“Y/N, might I have a word with you?” Rhaenyra calls out to the courtyard.
“Of course, your grace,” she smiles, looking to her children. “Keep father company for me. I’ll return shortly.”
Rhaenyra leads her farther into the gardens. “When you were a girl, your grandsire and I would bring you here to watch the changing of the leaves.”
“I remember.” Y/N says, wistfully.
“I owe you an apology,” Rhaenyra takes her hands. “For many years, I thought Aegon stole you away from me. I blamed him, for the death of our father.”
“It was not his fault, mother.” Y/N insists, “I wanted a marriage for love.”
“I see that now.” Rhaenyra assures her. “He is a fine husband to you and a good father to your children. I should not have pushed so relentlessly to end your union.”
Y/N shakes her head, “all is forgiven.”
“Even in our years apart, you have remained my heir. As I believe you would be a great ruling Queen, if that is what you desire. I will provide your children places of high status in court. For Aegon, a seat at the small council.” Rhaenyra offers, “and of course, my sincere apology for the way I have acted.”
“You wish for us to stay?”
Rhaenyra cups her cheek, “very much so.”
Y/N looks down at her wedding ring. “I know Alicent has been unkind to him. I will not stay in a place where he’s treated poorly.”
“I will speak with her.”
“And…I fear Aegon holds little interest in the small council.” Y/N admits, “I hope that too is negotiable.”
“All things are,” Rhaenyra assures her.
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