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fishnapple · 3 months ago

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Things people secretly find attractive about you

This reading is about the hidden thoughts of people, about what they secretly find attractive about you. This is entirely subjective, some of these can seem questionable or hard to understand but the human psyche is complex, the root of attraction can lie in unexpected places.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ONE

Some of the people who find you attractive might have a saviour mentality and a serious personality, they gravitate towards someone who they think is in trouble, sad about life or is a little impractical. I'm not saying that you have these traits, but those people seem to pick up some of your behaviours as signs of these traits.

Some people perceive you as outspoken, you have no trouble saying what's on your mind, your words are direct and to the point, they carry force in them. This can seem aggressive to them. But this is not the kind of being attracted to something strong but more like being attracted to the hidden weakness behind that strong exterior. They think that behind your assertive demeanour is someone insecure, someone who hasn't found their footing in the world yet. They are attracted to that thought, the thought that you're trying to put up a front, trying to be brave. This makes them curious and want to see the insecurities that you're hiding, and to do what? They would want to guide you, they think you need someone to act as a teacher to you, someone you can look up to, and they want to be that person.

Your voice is also attractive to some ears, your choice of words is extensive and have a poetic touch to it. Or you don't talk much and some people find that attractive, they feel that you leave space for others to talk and express and you're not judgmental about it. Some will like having deep philosophical discussions with you. You also have different and unique hobbies and whenever you talk about them, you seem so animated and excited, an intense passion can be felt, and that makes people gravitate towards you like moth to flame.

Some people also feel that you can be quite naive or impractical sometimes, they find this endearing, like seeing someone being protected from the harsh reality of this world. They might project a part of themselves on you. Some of them could have experienced a difficult childhood that didn't give much space for them to be carefree or feel protected. So they look at you and see these traits that remind them of a distant longing for a better childhood.

The idea of being in a relationship with you will seem easy and natural. It's easy to imagine themselves taking care of you and having your attention to themselves. Your attention and affection are elusive and people want to catch a hold of these. Some will want to quickly jump in a connection with you, it would get intense very fast and burn quickly, attraction at first sight is very likely, this is not just about romantic attraction but also includes platonic attraction.

TWO

I think people would immediately feel a sense of power coming from you, much like how our skin warming up when we are around a fire. This kind of powerful energy is dynamic, all-encompassing, intense, generous and bountiful. This attraction that people have towards you is not that secretive, some might feel reluctant to show it or talk about it openly because they feel respectful towards you, they can feel a little intimidated and will just silently watch you, occasionally drop a few compliments when they are feeling brave enough. You know how sometimes people see someone so amazing and awesome but keep their distance and not express appreciation for them, for fear of stating the obvious, they would think that this person probably gets a lot of compliments everyday already so they won't be bothered with them? Some people are like that towards you.

Some people will quietly admire your daring and sometimes reckless spirit, the word daredevil comes to mind, with it comes the attitude of an adventurer. You are so brave and explosive, always ready to explore new horizons, always know how to have fun. Timid and quiet people might secretly find these traits so attractive about you but also feel that you are a little dangerous or too forceful for them. It's not physical violence but it's the speed of you doing things, the energy you put in every action, they feel like they can't quite keep up with that. But it's sexy to them. It's intense and it can bring both order and chaos to wherever you go. This energy is like electricity, it can evoke wild reactions in people.

You smile and laugh a lot? People find your smile and the sound of your laughter attractive, it's warm and contagious. You don't just laugh a lot, you also make people laugh a lot, they like your humour, it's carefree, jovial, sometimes it comes as exaggerated boasting, sometimes it's ridiculous, sometimes it's so humble. It shows a healthy ego with enough boundaries and respect. They can see your humbleness as a sign of strength, you're so confident in yourself and so strong that you allow yourself to be soft and be a fool to elevate people's spirits.

Others will be secretly attracted to your intelligence and wisdom. You seem like someone whom they can look up to and learn from. Younger people really like you, they see you as a role model, someone who knows their own path and is dedicated to it. Some will assume you're really successful and have it all. They wonder if you have an inner calling, a spiritual belief that guides your life, because you seem to abide to a certain rules, some strict regimes and they're curious about it.

THREE

The word "wholesome" just immediately came to my mind. You have a very stable aura that makes people think you have your life all figured out. They might even think that your life is so different from them, so trouble-free, peaceful or exciting, anything but similar to theirs. But that doesn't alienate you from people, they actually like this about you. Like how cat videos restore faith in the world for some people. When they see your life, they get inspired to strive to do good with their life.

Your energy is both fast and slow, steady but active. You have no trouble standing your ground, putting down your foot. You can be very cautious and deliberate when investing in something, whether with your energy, your time, your resources, your emotions. But when you see the chance, the most effective path opening, you don't hesitate to take the action, almost like you have an angel or a wise counsellor behind your back who will give you encouragement to go forward. You are not a reckless gambler but a wise one.

Some people feel very safe and secure when they are around you, you feel like a teddy bear, a shelter to them. Because you are generous when you've decided that someone is worthy of your effort. You don't do things half-heartedly, your determination and devotion are very attractive in people's eyes. This can also mean that some people are quite dependent on you, emotionally, and they hate to admit it, I sense that some of them are quite proud and independent, so the notion that they're dependent on someone does not sit well with them.

You also have an amicable energy, people can sense that you won't get angry easily, you don't take out your ego and wave it at their faces. You talk only when it's necessary and don't demand attention. You seem like a humble person who doesn't complain when things get hard and just focus on solving the problem without expecting applause and praises. People who have a more dominant and fiery personality might find this attractive, as opposites attract. Some can view this as you can be ordered and are obedient, which boosts their ego a lot.

While some people wonder, if you truly are that humble or you're just good at hiding your desires and drives, they might think that you have something to hide, you're not comfortable showing your true self and just go along with what others deem good and nice. Would there be another person who is wild, ambitious and fierce behind your gentle image? Some might want to poke, to push you to see a more aggressive reaction from you. Another kind of people can view this energy as you being detached and aloof, like you don't have the time or energy to care. They secretly find this "unavailability" attractive, it shows you have standards and act accordingly to your own rules and set of beliefs. You seem to elicit a wide variety of opinions from people. If all of them were to have a meeting and voice their thoughts about you, it would make a long list. But they all will have to agree that you are unshakable from your resolution once you set your eyes on a goal.

FOUR

This group is a little similar to the previous group, both have strong earth energy with a hidden element. But your group is more youthful, the energy, at first glance, is softer and more playful. The similarity of the two groups is that people perceive you to be in alignment with your soul's desire. You seem to be living a full life. People look at you and feel the liveliness, the joy of living. Like a child beginning to step out to the world, who hasn't been disillusioned by the ugliness of reality yet. People secretly think you are naive and innocent, a little erratic or unpredictable, but you're not lost, you know where you are going, with a purpose, like a ship heading towards the lighthouse. You make people feel like they should act benevolent to you, because you deserve that treatment. To the people who already have children, you sometimes remind them of their own child, subconsciously. They would want to protect you and see you bloom and prosper.

You have an oblivious attitude towards worldly achievements that people secretly wish they can adopt it themselves. You focus on your self development but you don't put too much weight into being conventionally successful like having a good career, earning lots of money, being famous, almost like you're tired of that. Maybe you're well-known to a certainly extent in a community and some people can be a little envious of that, they may wonder how can you garner attention so easily like that, even when you don't do much, aren't active or just keep to yourself, but fame still finds you.

Your appearance shows that you're taking good care of yourself. You have a neat and simple style that people like. It suits your perceived manner, mild and stable. You notice little details and create a pleasant atmosphere and environment around you. Some people who work with you find these traits really attractive, they could develop a quiet crush for you.

You could have some small obsessions that people who are observant enough will notice. They intuitively sense that you are trying to establish a certain order in your life, a certain routine to balance out the inner emotional turmoil. It's like a storm is raging outside so you try to focus on organising the house to feel safe and distract yourself from the storm. This will attract people, some people are just really attracted to emotional depth and complexity. The more contradicting a person act, hinting a hidden landscape underneath, the more they are attracted.

You can be quite serious when it come to learning, this is where your determination shows itself the most. Teaching you is a delight, but can also come with heavy pressure, you don't want superficial knowledge, you want to go to the depth of things, analysing then committing the information into your memory. This, in turn, can also make you an excellent teacher, but you can be a little stern, surprisingly. You can seem young, but in some areas, you are so serious and committed, you seem like a wise old soul.

FIVE

I pulled only 3 Tarot cards for the previous groups, but your group demanded another one, apparently so many people have so many different opinions about you.

Your energy seems so red and fiery, like a burning fire. There are lots of moths flocking to your flame. They know they would "die", but they just can't help it. I can see that you have a lot of admirers, the majority of them are secret admirers though. There's something about your energy that makes people turn inward and become a lot more quiet and introverted than they normally are. They're contented to just keep a distance and admire you from a far. Have you ever see the process of an artist making their artwork? They are so focused in their own world, they emit an intense aura that keep the audience quiet and holding their breath, the people around them don't dare to disturb that creative process. Some people feel like that with you. You have a creative energy that can touch people, it's both very vulnerable but also strong, something that just is, without external shielding or masking.

People view you as someone who loves fearlessly, you have a reverence for love that borders on a religious feeling. It makes them question themselves, how can a human live so confidently like that, can they live like that too? is their life has a different meaning that they haven't thought of before? You are an inspiration to people, your flame is contagious, it spreads wherever it goes.

Those that are brave enough to approach you will like to talk and debate with you, you have a way to show your views clearly without eclipsing others. They admire your courage to defend your worldview and advocate for good courses. You might have a knack for rallying people, persuading people. People can easily be swept along your passionate energy.

Some believe that you have what it takes to be successful in this world. You have the talents, you have the will, and luck seems to follow you with each step you take. The phrase "Fortune favours the bold" can't be anymore apt than this. You have a balanced feminine and masculine energy that can attract people of different genders. To the world, when you need to accomplish something, you have no problem with exerting will power and strategies, to those close to you, you also hold a nurturing space for them. Some might perceive you as a good parental figure. Some will automatically assume that you're successful and rich, or you have someone backing you up. I will be honest, they're attracted to your abundance, the more lack they feel, the more attracted they are to you.

SIX

I wouldn't say you are shy or quiet, but you're reserved and just want to mind your own business. Your energy feels a little awkward and some people can notice that. Again, it's not exactly because of shyness, but more like a reluctance to come out of your own world. You might be a home-body or someone who prefer their private space a lot. If you can, you just want to stay in one place and live quietly, contentedly, but alas, you have to go out and interact with the world, and I do see some life circumstances that would force you to be out, to be more visible to the world. If you are a leader or someone with authority in the workplace, you will be a reluctant leader, but a good one nevertheless. This makes you seem more down to earth and relatable to many people.

You're resistant to disturbances and chaos. You want simple things, things that are essential for a good and tranquil life. A fresh meal, a walk on the beach, tea time with friends maybe enough to make you happy and feel fulfilled, also a heavy pocket full of money to prepare for rainy days. You're risk adverse, that's why you're always well prepared, stable and can shoulder lots of burdens. People can't help but feel peaceful and safe around you, they feel protected. That is, if they managed to get in your inner circle. You're selective of whom you interact and associate with. People like this pickiness of yours, it makes them feel privileged to be selected. You're picky but you're not stingy or haughty, everyone can still see that you're friendly and open enough.

As much as you always try to stay out of chaos, chaos seems to like you and follow you around. Some bizarre and unexpected events might happen that are totally out of your control. You life is somehow attached to invisible strings that pull and lead you to some pretty interesting experiences. Usually these experiences can bring positive changes into your life, if you're open to them. Those who witness these events will find them oddly fascinating. Magic seems to be real around you. You may have a strong manifesting power, whether you're conscious of them or not. You can literally create your reality through your power of imagination and words. So be mindful of what you are thinking and imagining.

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

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🔞 / 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈 / 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 / 𝟏𝟖+

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 is a strange friend.

You can share anything with him — completely confide in him. Spend nights curled up on his chest crying about things in your past that you can't change as he genuinely listens, sometimes stroking your hair.

Ending up kissing him once, twice, more, with a cheap excuse each time, desperate to convince yourselves that you're just friends.

It was a dare. It was one time at a party. I was drunk. You were drunk. We were both drunk. Oh, that time? We were experimenting.

Well, next thing you know, you're in between Satoru's sheets. And he's smiley, cracking jokes, acting casual and as if he didn't just let you cum all over his abs.

Anyone breaks your heart, Satoru's there for you; so is his dick. He always says there's nothing a good 'pillow fight' can't fix. Or is that just his excuse to sink 7.8 inches deep into you? Probably. The way he slides into your soft pussy, there's nothing platonic about it. He started out fucking you like a friend just needing to release tension, but now he's beginning to fuck you like he's your man.

Satoru stubbornly insists that you and him are platonic. That you're just casually fucking in his shower, that it's just a funny experiment if he wants to control your vibrator in public.

"No, we're just friends." he shrugs. "What? Do friends not typically cum on each other's faces? Weird."

"Be serious, Satoru. What are we?" you ask one day. "Sometimes I feel like you like me."

He goes silent, hands behind his head and smug look erased. No reply.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, who is your 'friend' and is also uncontrollably attracted to you and wants to try creampie you until you fall in love with him. Maybe if he fills you enough, you'll think he's as irresistible as he thinks you are?

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 13 days ago

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CAN WE HAVE DOEY BEING A PLATONIC YANDERE TO THE PLAYER?? I WONDER HOW HE WOULD ACT GIVEN HIS CONFLICTING PERSONALITIES AND EMOTIONS DUE TO BEING MADE OUT OF THREE KIDS

Yes, you absolutely can! This ended up being way longer than I first planed and I'm actually pretty proud of it :)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me.

Platonic yandere Doey & Reader

★ When Doey first meets the Player, he is intrigued. It's not every day you meet someone who keeps cheating the grim reaper. As Doey spends more time with the Player, he realizes that they are different than most employes. You are nice and treat him kindly.

★ His conflicting personalities create a strange mix of curiosity and adoration inside of him. Especially after you stay to help the Safe Haven instead of working with Poppy. Plus, the Player has been through so much already. They really should take a break.

★ He goes above and beyond to make them feel comfortable and secure in their new home. He introduces them to the other toys, making sure they feel included and part of their little community. Tries to help them relax after what they have been through, also.

★Doey becomes emotionally dependent on the Player, deriving a sense of purpose and stability from their presence. The thought of losing the Player or not being able to protect them fills him with fear and anxiety, fueling his yandere tendencies.

★ All three parts of him agree on one thing, protect the Player at all costs. That means not letting them leave the Safe Haven. At least not without him. It comes from a place of genuine care, having concern for the Player's well-being.

★ He prioritizes their needs, ensuring the Player feels safe and loved. If the player were to reciprocate his care by doing things to make him feel valued, it would mean the world to him. If it's not too much, could he pretty please hold your hand? (please say yes)

★ The player's consistent care builds trust between them. That trust is very important. Never break it or you might regret it. Doey is still unstable at times, and he could still lash out at you if the wrong button is pushed.

★ Yandere Doey is very possessive, he is aware of this and tries his best not to be. He really wants to give the Player the freedom they deserve but at the same time he fears losing you to others and may become anxious if you spend too much time with another toy.

★ Those thoughts are silly, he knows it, you would never abandon him for a new friend. However, that nagging voice in his head tells him differently. It may end up with him subtly manipulating the Player. It was for friendship though so it's okay!

★ He might use guilt or even fear to keep the Player close, making them feel responsible for his emotional well-being. The thought of the Player getting hurt when he's gone fills him with all sorts of bad feelings. Ones he doesn't even want to think about.

★ By this time it's too late to go back. He is too afraid of being abandoned, if you suggest going off to finish what you started and killing the prototype he would have a panic attack.

★ His conflicting personalities are unified in their fear of the Player facing danger and he becomes visibly distressed. It's too dangerous! If you leave and never come back, what will he do? Doey may even go as far as physically putting himself between the Player and the exit if it comes down to it.

#doey #doey x player #doey x reader #doey the doughman #doey ppt #poppy playtime doey #ppt x reader #ppt fanfiction #ppt hc #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime headcanon #poppy playtime x player #ppt player

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venuslarkspur · 3 months ago

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Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 1

Jon My Love, There’s A New Batgirl.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother so you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But your not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Pairing: Just Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader on this one. Mentions of platonic Jason and reader.

Notes: it’s not proofread so I’m so sorry if there’s any mistakes 😭 - Please read the prologue if you haven’t already <3

Warnings: Undertones of Misogyny, mentions of Talia being overprotective, Teen Runaways.

Words: 1.4k

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You weren’t sure if you had heard your father right, all you knew right now is that you had to get as far away as possible. You ignored your father calling out to you and ran out that office, you felt your dinner coming up. You clenched your stomach and your mind relapsed. It brought back bad memories from your time with your grandfather, being pinned against Damian and being chosen as the inferior twin. That’s why you weren’t the heir, that’s why you weren’t Robin first. And that’s why your currently sprinting you way through the house, Cass had called out to you and you felt dreadful for ignoring her but you couldn’t take this right now. You were displaced, again.

Yet one thing led to another, and suddenly you were stood in the bat cave, staring at all the costumes behind the glass. There were so many, but only one caught your eye. Barbara’s purple and yellow Batgirl costume. Maybe it was the Lazarus Pit trauma talking but suddenly your picking up the nearest object and smashing the glass, suddenly your putting the costume on and grabbing your phone from your room. Suddenly you’re jumping out your window and hopping the fence; you wished you’d had at least told Jason or even Cass what your game was, but it’s not like there would be much explain; your instinct just acted for you. And it felt good to hop over buildings in costume and punching a few noses on the way, as of right now you were snapping off your boyfriend’s window lock, and your feet hit the ground with a creak. Jon wasn’t there but you looked at the time on your phone which read 18:05, he must of still been having dinner. So you waited for 5 minutes and in true Wayne family fashion sat there on his bed, reading one of his textbooks; until you heard footsteps outside the door but continued on reading.

The door opened and you sat up straight and met eyes with the person you’d hoped to see, “Y/n? Is that you?” Jon eyes widened, many questions floating around his head. You slipped the mask off and got up and met him, “We need to whisper, and shut the door please.” You tried to say as politely as possible, he got the message and gently shut the door. “I heard…so it’s true that Damian’s back.” He inferred as you led him to sit down with you on the bed, you sat down and took his hands in yours. “I was happy but judging by this costume, did Batman fire you?” You nodded at him and looked down in shame, but he quickly brought your chin back up. “He told me I was discharged, but I’m sure that’s just a gentler term for fired.” You sighed, and as mad as you felt you saw this as an opportunity to join his lips to yours for what might be the last time. You slowly moved in and connected your lips to his, he sensed the urgency and moved in as well but didn’t quite understand the rush.

You stayed that way for a while, but slowly moved away as he popped another question. “What’s actually wrong?” He asked and you felt bad because right now he looked like a sad puppy, but you couldn’t drag him down with you. Not to mention you had to be more careful with Damian’s return. “I’m sorry but I think I’m gonna tough it out on my own for a while.” You took your hands away from his and instantly missed the warmth. He looked at you as if you’d just told him his whole family died. “You’ve actually lost it if you think I’m letting you go off on your own.” He took his hands back into yours. “If think you need to do this- I’m not gonna act like I’m not happy about it but if I can’t stop you I’m gonna join you.” You both stay that way for a while, and reality sinks in at last. “I can’t let you, your parents won’t forgive me not to mention Damian will feel so betrayed I’m just not sure..” you whisper as if not wanting anything to change but it’s already too late, everything’s changed.

“Sorry Batgirl you can’t stop me, I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you, not to mention the wrath of your brothers, jeez..” He blushes and on a more serious note you accept his proposal. “Okay we can set up base at the outskirts I think, I know a place.” You stand up and reapply your mask, he follows and asks “Are you nervous?” You grin and if you could look at yourself right now you’d probably remind yourself of your twin brother. “Nope, nobody’s taking us down and if they try they won’t try and come back for another round.” You give him one last peck before sliding past the window sill again. “Gather what you need, speak to who you need, I’ll be on the rooftop when you’re ready.” You smile at each other before slipping onto the roof without a sound.

You made a point to ignore the countless notifications on your phone, only messaging Damian with an unhelpful “Im okay.”

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You knew just where you both wouldn’t be found, it probably would of been ideal to just ask to make your team but not only would that expose your relationship, it would also make family reunions really awkward. You weren’t really thinking at all, you knew a warehouse you could operate from for the time being. It was where you and Jason trained for a bit, you had fond memories of being taken for ice cream afterwards and a ride on the back of his bike. It was nice to have someone look out for you, so much effort went into training Damian when you were young children, your grandfather tried to believe in you but knew ultimately Damian would be the heir. Which created so many insecurities, well right now you weren’t much better running off with his friend but as you saw it you needed to pave your way as well.

Talia hadn’t even wanted you to leave, you had to run away to escape your overly pampered life; and it took Bruce insisting you stay to get her to return home; but she still promised you’d eventually return to her. As much as you had wanted to lecture her on her overly protective behaviour you also wanted her approval. Sure she would be happy you were rebelling against your father, but would she approve of you doing it this way? Would she approve of Jon? Who was currently flying you both to the warehouse. You wanted to be validated, and that you hated the most.

You didn’t feel like being alone tonight either, you knew there was an abandoned flat above the warehouse, but you and Jason had never gone up there. But you didn’t mind if it was a 1 bed situation, if anything it would help to have someone to hold. Worse case scenario you’re both found sharing a bed and your brothers will lose their shit. As long as you both are fully clothed at the time, nothing too bad should happen.

And it felt like the most natural thing ever, patrolling together, the thugs being confused and wondering when you two became an item. Turning them into the nearby police station, avoiding cctv and returning to your new makeshift home as if it was the most normal thing ever. You had set up your own mini crime alert on Jon’s laptop and found ways to charge your devices. You even managed to spruce up the warehouse and upstairs apartment a bit, thank goodness Jon was raised normally and knew how to cook because you couldn’t cook to save your life.

But naturally your respective families began to put the pieces together, and soon enough Oracle was watching.

Taglist: @waterwyne @venusmorning

(If you want to be added please let me know <3)

(Part 2 is out.)

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thedarkestrivernymph · 1 month ago

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A Heart Of Gold

Platonic! Y! Royal Child x Cruel/Uncaring! Royal! Mother! Reader x Y! Mistress! of cheating husband x Y! Brother in Law

-> part 2 here

word count: 11,5k (probably one of the lengthiest fics I have ever written haha)

warnings: mention of abuse (both verbal and physical), neglect, infidelity, unhealthy relationship dynamics, murderous thoughts, morally gray! reader, paranoia, harassment, unconsenual acts, kissing, mentions of death(s), killing, breakdowns/meltdowns, generational trauma, unhealthy mother/child dynamics, obsessive behaviour, classism, misogynistic views, homophobia, not completely accurate historical depictions!

Author's note: Boy this got lengthy, still I hope you enjoy it! :) So let's dive into it, shall we?

“A heart of glass shatters, but a heart of gold melts into something newer and sturdier. Into something dangerous and menacing. It molds to a new life of cruelty, while the heart of glass is swept away, its pieces discarded and forgotten. I don't want to travel with the wind, fleet in one blink, I want to be reborn, experience freedom for the first time in my life. I want to have a heart of gold.”

Do you know the feeling of an itch that no matter how much you scratch, how incessant you drag your nails over that patch of skin, you can just never get rid of? That was motherhood, but worse.

For you, at least.

The life of a commoner was jarring, a constant battle for life, that most, no matter how hard they tried to intimidate, would never succeed in defeating. Most died young, early thirties or fourties, with nasty diseases of all kinds being the reason—and yet they always seemed so lively compared to nobility. The nobility with all of their masquerades and dramatics. They never were allowed to let the intricately crafted mask crack, even for a second, if they valued their life that is.

Perhaps that's why you had envied those mindless pigs most of your life—working away until their bones cracked and fell into themselves. That mindless devotion and that foul language they could use whenever they pleased, the sheer stupidity in believing in something higher and more valuable than the crown, was so vastly different to your own complex persona. Your life was quiet, filled with studying, tea-parties that never reached deeper than surface level of conversation and endless long nights where you would raise your gaze to the heavens above and just stare at the stars, as if the answers you desperately longed for were written in them.

You were like a man deprived of water, thirsting for something to quench your endless need for freedom. Any kind you could get your hands on, you clutched on—wether it was the question of if you maids were to dress you in blue or white or rather in violet and yellow, or something simple if you wanted to wander around in the gardens that day; you loved all these small luxuries. Even the pearls of your mother's, now hanging from your neck like heavy cobblestones on a string, felt nothing compared to the little escapades you were allowed. And the needle you were embroidering with in this old moaning manor pricking you gave you some semblance of joy, that at least in some shape or form there was something under your control.

Until even that had lost its taste—like your once most favoured dish that had reminded you of childhood in your youth, the fields, the servant's children that you would play with after repetitive lessons and so much more, one day none could comfort you anymore. As many others, you grew out of your juvenile thinking much too soon and in a way that was far too shattering of an experience.

Sweet seventeen and the marriage with the crown prince was held. You had known before, it was to be expected, you had anticipated the dreadful day when you would have to give up your freedom in exchange of legacy and reputation, yet actively knowing and actively being were two vastly different states one could experience. So as the princess you had been, you had bowed down to everyone in power; to your mother with her stern gaze and even harsher words, to your father with his cane as sharp as his gaze was, to the king of a different nation, you had only visited once in childhood who was nothing more than a distant memory at this point in time and lastly to your future husband, who would not reign yet, but still hold enough power to crush a small country with just his fist.

So you bore the stranger a child, one not out of love, but out of duty to the crown, to your family—to everyone who had invested in you as a powerful tool as the key to peace between two neighbouring kingdoms. “He’s pretty. His eyes are like mine,” were his first words upon seeing the crying infant still caked in blood with you drenched in your own sweat. The world had crumpled in that moment, only to rebuild itself a second time in your life as you remembered that nothing ever was out of love. Everything was done out of ego. At least concerning nobility and royalty. And you were royalty.

That’s when the curse had started—the deep loathing for something that didn’t deserve it.

“Mother!” you frowned, determined to keep your gaze on the embroidery in your hands.

“Mother!” another high-pitched cry and you swore a vein on your forehead was about to just pop open and deflate like a par of lungs you wanted to slice through with a scarpel.

You glanced at the door, counting the steps and sure enough it took the little demon thirty-two before bursting right in as always. “Mother! There you are— look, look mother! Misses has just taught me how to..” you tuned out after the second word, already feeling another headache bloom between your brows, subtly ushering your maid closer so that she could take care of the chaos. Ignoring the way the boy protested and cried as he was led out with the excuse that his dear mommy was tired and in need of rest.

That had been ten years ago—in fact you were just melodramatic and liked to revisit your past, thinking about how foolish you had been to ever belief love was more than a myth. Sighing you took another bite from your steak.

“Mother, have you heard? I won this year's tournament again.” the deep voice startled you.

“Oh, you have?” another bite and it would be over soon, another bite and you wouldn't have to talk any more than necessary.

“Yes mother, has father not informed you?” no, don't let your thoughts get bad, he didn't mean to mention his father.

“Mother, you and father haven't been talking much, have you now? How utterly disappointing. I had assumed that he at the very least would share my achievements with you, mother dear.” you were losing it again, because you could swear he was doing it on purpose, he was rubbing salt in your wound knowingly. No, no he wasn’t, you were just paranoid, instead why not focus on the flower motive on the egde of your plate or the rich red swirling in your cup or—

“Mother? You seem rather pale. Would you like me to call your maid?”

He isn’t doing it on purpose.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He didn't ask to be born, he was just here because he had to—as you were, as the worker ants and the pigs were, as the common folk were.

Just breathe.

“Mother—” no you couldn't just breathe.

Your fists slammed against the dinning table, causing silverwear to clink against porcelain and wine to spill. It dripped to the floor and with it your last nerve.

“Don’t you dare, Nicholas! You and I, as well as any other resident in the palace, are very much aware of your father's open infidelity—and to incessantly remind me of it, is just unacceptable! When will you grow out of your boyish theatrics and take life seriously? You should concern yourself more with your studies and yourself than my matters!” you were standing, you didn't even know when you had stood up, but now you were face to face with your son for the first time in the duration of the entire dinner—and you tasted bile. Luscious chestnut coloured hair, forest green eyes and fair skin with an oval face; he was the copy of his father, quite literally and everything in you felt deeply disturbed by it. Or perhaps it was because of the way he would stare at you, even as a baby, with this sort of hunger, this all-consuming need to take and take, without giving back, like a parasite in your guts, feeding off whatever you consumed.

“Mother, you wound me." he had the audacity to jest, smiling that bone-chilling smile. Sometimes you wondered if that really was your son and not just a demon that had slipped into his skin at birth. “I am your son, mother. I worry for you. You’ve had such a weak constitution since my childhood, I cannot help myself.” devil. You shuddered.

Beyond yourself and all responsibilities that came with being bound to the crown, you stormed off. Your maids rushed behind you but you swat them away, yelling at them to leave you be, that you just needed fresh air and throwing what other excuses you managed to come up with at them. And they were quick to listen—even though with great reluctance scattering like baby ducklings would, while the guards stationed in front of the dinning hall were watching you silently. Everyone was, constantly.

You huffed, hands gripping your gown like the talons of a bird clung to a mouse and you ran—perhaps if your mother could see you now, she would claw her way out of her grave to berate and scold you like the child you were behaving as, but you couldn’t stop your legs from moving forward, even as your feet started to ache and you felt something warm run down your shoe.

“Your Majesty?” you halted.

“What is the matter? You seem upset?” Charles. Your gaze softened, something that happened far too little. Soft brown curls with a matching chocolate brown gaze all dressed up in a relaxing blue. He was like a gift wrapped in a blue bow.

“I was just walking by. All council members were called.” he was blunt and clipped as always—comfortingly so, gazing at you in thinly veiled concern.

Before you could spout whatever irresponsible nonesense that your mind could conjure up, he had clasped a hand around your wrist, quick to check for curious eyes that would misinterpernt the rather narrow distance between you two, before pulling you both aside into an empty chamber nearby—the room not much bigger than a closet, obviously something forgotten.

You opened your mouth ready to speak but he beat you to it.

“Is it your husband again? He’s a fool. To think he can feel free of guilt when his lovely wife has to suffer because of his childishness.” you felt his hand cup your cheek and you melted, the darkness and slight chill of the room suddenly secondary, as warmth from your very insides bloomed.

“I don't know anymore, Charles,” you sighed, head against his chest. You found a steady rhythm there, something unlike your life.

“He brought her here. Here! Into the castle. He wants to make her his second queen, his second queen! That's unheard of but he's so stubborn and he won't listen. Not to me, not to his advisors—he just doesn’t listen.” there was some relief in sharing your pain, some relief that at least someone would listen to what you felt and thought.

“It's a scandal.” he admitted in a whisper, now rubbing your back in gentle circles. “To have a mistress for all the world to see and to want to elavate her status to yours. He’s crazy. You deserve better, much better.” he consoled you and reassured you, making you feel more at ease with your teenage-like outburst. You ought to pull yourself togehter, (y/n). Be quiet and strong. Don’t cause a fuss, men don’t like that. Yeah, mother, you did everything right, but father still had three bastards he brought home.

Exhausted you groaned, embracing the very chest that Charles has been offering you since the first day at the palace. Sometimes you would wonder what would’ve been if you had married Charles instead of your husband, but you never thought too long or too hard about it, because to be tuthful the prospect that you could’ve lead a happier life depressed you.

Something wet rolled down your cheek.

You pulled away.

“Thank you, Charles. You’ve always been very understanding. But I should return to my chambers. It’s late. Where were you headed to again? You should make haste.” you were quick to dismiss as usual. It was unheard of that in-laws were so close with eachother, especially when the gown you were wearing once had been your husbands gift. It was like his cruel paw extended time and place to even shackle you in place here in the furthest corners of the palace, alone with the man that you had— in your younger years at least— occasionaly thought about at night, when your husband would be working or have his occasional trysts with some courtesan.

He was quiet for a second or two, letting you spiral furhter into the dark place that had a permenant residence inside of your mind, only to startle you with a squeeze to your shoulders. “Are you certain? You still appear unwell and I would feel like a terrible brother-in-law if I just—” you didn’t let him finish.

“No, no need. I am absoloutely capable of returning by myself. Just you go.” and with that escaped before you could cry your eyes out in front his brother, even when he was the only human in the family of festering little demons, you would rather not let him catch you off guard. He was the apple Eve was tempted with only to fail the test, but you were better than that, you were a noble, not just any you were a royal, you wouldn’t fall for fate’s cruel tricks.

You rushed through the halls, your heels clicking with each step, as the night only turned darker and your thoughts only more frenzied. Finally you reached your chambers, your skittish maids, breathing out in relief, rushing towards you to check in on you and your trembling state. You waved them off, barking again to be left alone, only this time they wouldn’t. Suspiciously so.

“Why won’t you let me enter? Speak.”

“My queen, we would never think about witholding you from returning to your own chambers, but there is an issue of sorts, you see..” the oldest of the bunch spoke up, the same age as your mother would be if she was still alive and well.

With slits for eyes you glowered, now more persistent in your demand, even if it was one of your most loyal of maids, you wouldn’t be leniet enough to let them off the hook so easily. “Speak.”

“My queen it is that—”

Oh.

Staring at you so incredibly smugly, as if you couldn’t wipe the floor with her visage if you wanted to, was the twenty something mistress of your husband, of the the king, Maria.

How ironic of a name.

“Oh? If that isn’t the first queen. How delighted I am, to meet the woman the king adores as much as he adores me. And how beautiful of a woman you are! So graceful, even at your age, with a child that’s nearly old enough to build his own family! You must be proud! Certainly, you’re so lovely.” you felt your eye twitch. She was utterly shameless standing in the doorway to your chambers while dressed in nothing but a chiffony nightgown and black hair like the streaks of tint on paper. How utterly depraved and sick.

As she smiled too, you probably turned red in the face.

“I am so happy to finally meet you! I heard a lot about you—all he does is talk about you. I am glad you’re my opponent I can vie for the king’s affection with. Anyone else would’ve been bland in comparison to you.” her fingers brushed away a strand of hair in your face and it probably took all of your self-restraint not to snap and bury your fingers in her scalp to pluck away some of that inky black. “I am truly grateful.” her blue eyes were worse, piercing and clear like the streams of fresh waters—truly a horrible colour to be gifted to such snake, undeserving of such beauty.

“Why are you here? This isn’t the king’s bedroom, girl.” you were cold, slapping away her hand and trying to undermine her presence with the fact that you were older and more experienced, yet she just giggled. Was it wrong that she reminded you of your son? The both of them certainly were the same level of vile, making you feel uncomfortably unauthorative in their presence.

“Oh it isn’t? My mistake, your Majesty. But you can just call me Maria, no need to be so distant. Or you could get used to calling me Queen Maria. Pardon—is it a sensitive topic? You’re glaring at me so intensely, I am uncertain if I should fear for my life.” on second thought maybe being thrown into prison for bashing in the king’s mistress’ head against a wall didn’t sound so appaling. No, pull yourself together.

“I ask of you to move. These are my chambers. So move, now.” one more minute of this and you were sure you would end up growling like an animal, but thankfully she finally took the hint and brushed past you but not without a flying kiss your way. “See you soon, your majesty.”

At the end your maids held you back from tearing her apart like a rabid dog the moment she turned to walk away. Thankfully, they were also able to pull you into your chambers before fleeting before your outburst. Vases were flying—clothes ripped apart and you burned the single strands of black you found, above your lamp’s little flame. All while you stared up at the night sky, like you used to, asking the heavens why they had cursed you. Why a god couldn’t have let you be born as an empty-headed piglet, why you had to be able to understand language, why you just couldn’t rip anyone’s head off that treaded too close to you.

At the end of your breakdown you found your mother’s pearls scattered on the checkered tiles like the stars that mocked you from above. You pursued your lips into a smile. It was somewhat symbolic.

Mother was dead. Father too.

But you weren’t, not yet at least. So why waste it with stupid things such as deceny? You had desired for more than superficial workship of your body—you wanted real love, something to take your mind off your duties. And if the king was allowed such a thing, then you would just aquire one too.

Charles had always been friendly to you. Why not pay the favour back? After all, he was such a good brother-in-law.

The imaginary gods truly scorned you, didn't they? Because why else would you be dining with your husband, his mistress and your son. Were you truly nothing but the butt of the joke? Your presence meant nothing—all the years of hard-work, serving the crown and greater good, for what?

For Maria to wink at you and mock you in broad daylight, with even your son doing nothing but quietly watch. Father like son. How true that statement was.

Were you disappointed though? No, you didn't expect much of demons festering off others.

The eggs were cooked into gooey soft richness, just as you liked it, giving you some semblance of comfort. Today you were dressed in rich velvet purple; truly a gown for special occasions and this particular day probably was the most special out of all. It was the day you had anticipated all these upcoming weeks with nothing but an ache deep in your chest whenever you thought of it.

Today he would announce when the law would be finalized—and with its finalization the death of your dignity.

Maria would officially be the king’s second queen, not consort, not mistress—not even the occasional courtesan he liked to fuck, no, she would be of your status, when she was nothing but a count’s daughter. It was laughable really, you stabbed at the beacon on your plate as if it had committed a crime against you.

From childhood until your marriage to him, you as a royal princess had been kept endlessly busy with tutoring of all kinds; writing and reading first and foremost then state affairs, french, latin, philosophy, politics, how to properly sit and talk, embroidery and so much more that at eight you had started wishing to be born a pig, kept fed until slaughter.

“As you all know,” all heads drifted in his direction, sitting proud at the head of the mahogany table, “The law will be legalized by the end of the month and to celebrate this joyous occasion. I ask my first wife, to prepare a banquet for my love.” he probably didn't even see you as a human, only as a political ally.

“Of course, your Majesty. I would love to.” nevertheless you replied as if you had a choice in the matter anyways, flinching as soft hands snaked up your arms. “You will? That's wonderful news! I cannot share just how honoured I am that you will be planning this! Anything you make must be nothing short of astounding beauty!” was she trying to gain even more of the king’s favour? It certainly seemed to work on your lovesick husband, who only leaned back in his seat, the cushions were red—a colour worthy of a king and let his lips curl up into a tender smile, with moss greens that seemed to scarily soften up.

Had your husband ever been capable of such a look?

You couldn't remember him ever staring at you so lovingly. It was chilling to say the least. Perhaps even repulsing.

You were quick to look down at your plate again—wishing for nothing more but to peel her fingers off of you, hopefully with so much force that one of her fingers would clean-cut break into two. It wasn't a question of love nor jealousy after all; but a matter of respect, and she was downright waddling her tail in front of you in victory. As if she deserved your just title as much, if not more than you. Slut.

“Mother,” this time it was the voice of your son calling out to you, “it seems you will be occupied for the time being with the courtesan's banquet,” he sighed, “and I here I was anticipating to spend some time with you after my exams.”

Had he just—

Silence.

Even the servants could do nothing but stare at the prince wearing such a proud expression, as if what he did was the right course of action. As if he just didn't insult his father's current obsession with the occupation she had before he brought her into the castle.

Everyone knew not to mention it, not even in the passing. Just hinting at it could cost you lots yet here was the crown prince doing what he knew not to do.

Oddly enough, while electricity zapped through the air, something destructive brewing beneath the king’s icy cold gaze—you could nothing but gape in fascination at your spawn. Were you imagining it, or was he protesting against his father? If you didn't know it sny better, you would've thought he did it to defend your honour. But that was laughable.

It seemed the young prince had grown up, when you had no clue, but sometime ago probably, with the way he held his chin up high, no fear visible in his gaze all while holding his father's glare.

You would be lying if you said you weren't weirded out. Hopefully him acting out wouldn't put you in bigger trouble than you already were in. He could at least grant you such a favour.

“What—what did just leave your mouth?” the king practically spat, your husband rising a hand decked out with hefty golden rings.

“I said, father,” you internally groaned, this child was just determined to cause you misery, “Courtesan. Because that is exactly what she is. Isn't that right, Maria? Before father married you, you were nothing but a whore with your legs wide spread open to please—”

Thwack. The king loomed over his own son, like God, – if he existed – probably had over Lucifer to berate him one last time before he would've earned his fall from grace.

“Enough! One more word and I will forget myself entirely!” the threat rung through the entire dining hall, it rung so deep it seeped into your bones.

Nicholas’ cheek was left marked with imprints of fat rings that managed to slice through skin and leave one side of his face a swirl of red and slowly forming purple. He hadn't just hit his son, but he had done so, with such force that his head was moved out of your sight.

Yet he still talked; spat out words like they burned his tongue.

“What, father? Can't handle the truth—”

“Edwin! Oh dear!” Maria’s fingers only now left your arm. She was rushing to the man that was supposedly your husband, to stop him from actually killing the boy he had wanted so badly. Immediately she latched onto him, practically throwing herself at him, dotting on him, doing her best to calm his wrath and somehow it worked. While all you could do was watch in stunned silence.

Your cousin, what was her name again— ah, yes, Lilian— would’ve surely snorted out a laugh at the scene. She found everything dark and morbid to be fascinating, perhaps that's why she had married a duke that would occasionally beat her into a bloody pulp?

Getting sidetracked again, weren't you? Point is you could accept much, but this, this was crossing a thin line that needed to be kept up for the balance of all things holy to the crown. If a mistress managed to throw everything out of order, then you truly had failed all your marital duty as a partner and as a queen.

Perhaps mother had been right? But then again, father had never been the big romantic, you were sure the man had been incapable of falling in love—obviously different to the Edwin you thought you had known all those years. He seemed enamored and it was truly terrifying.

The meal ended shortly after with the King storming off and his mistress right with him. Now, you never enjoyed being affectionate with Nicholas, however even you had to admit that you should probably offer the boy some words of wisdom.

Even if you liked to think of him as a little gremlin with a copy of his father for a face, you knew he wasn't exactly the same as him. Sometimes, it was hard to admit, your son did manage to spark some motherly affection in you, as scary as it was. So sighing, you rounded the table and your gaze landed on the brunette boy.

“Come, let's get you cleaned up.” was the most affectionate mumbling you forced out from between your lips. Only to turn around almost immediately, not waiting for him to collect himself as you wandered out and away from the dining hall. There was a short burst of laughter—probably, you weren't sure, you hoped it wasn't crying. You hated seeing him cry. He was an ugly crier. Then you heard footsteps behind you and soon passing by a few of your family portraits, the irony not lost on you—your life in contrast to the perfectly crafted deception painted onto these canvases—you found yourself in your study.

“Sit.” your words were always clipped when you talked to him, weren't they? It was hard to remember.

Nevertheless you rummaged through your drawers, the subtle scent of wood mixing with the incense that you were quick to ignite.

Funny, so that's what your study looked like? It was organised and thoroughly dusted, with each book and document in different neatly arranged piles. He remembered never been allowed in here as a boy, only able to take sneak peaks at you at your desk while the door closed in behind his nanny's somber face. Now it made sense, you feared a child would ruin your precision and need for perfection. Oh, mother, is that the reason you shun me so?

You felt that unexplainable chill again, which would always travel down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. See that look in his eyes? Those soulless green orbs you swore would burn a hole into your face from how intensely he was staring at you as you sat down in front of him. That's exactly why you didn't want anything to do with him, he was just—so peculiar.

“Close your eyes.” was your next command, not being able to stand the abyss you found in your own son’s gaze. You waited while you prepared the cotton through soaking it in alcohol.

And thankfully he listened. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Mother” he spoke. “Mhm,” you hummed.

“Mother, aren't you mad at father?” you paused, inhaled, already unnerved before continuing to pat his cheek gently.

“It's not in my place to question what the king does, neither is it yours Nicholas.” a soft sigh escaped you, “You ought to behave yourself. The little stunt you pulled at dinner tonight was dangerous. He may be your father, but before all else he is the king. And you should respect him until the crown is yours. Or do you wish to ruin your future just because?”

“It wasn't just because—” you chuckled, letting your hand fall away from his cheek as he forced the words from between his teeth.

“Oh?” you used the same look your mother always gave you—a scoff and a frown combined to make the one on the recieving end feel disgustingly guilty. You shook your head at him, youth.

“The reason isn't of any importance, what is of importance however is you ascending to the throne. And you cannot do so if your father hates you so. You may be older and of pure blood, but if the new woman at his side falls pregnant with a boy and you continue to be foolish, then you can just stand and watch everything being ripped away from you.” were you getting emotional, describing your future too while trying to warn him? Maybe. You didn't realise it until your son threw himself at you, alright, maybe not literally but he embraced you, as if you were the child and he the parent.

You stilled.

When had been the last time you hugged your son? You couldn't remember. The moment was peaceful, oddly so and just for a split second you forgot of your revulsion towards that child and let him clutch onto you.

“Mother,” he breathed against your shoulder, startling you, “Mother he’s openly betraying you. While the whole nation watches. You don't deserve this mother, you deserve a better man. If I had been my father I wouldn't have—” you immediately pushed him away.

Did you mishear?

“Don't—don’t ever talk like that again!” you declared, instead of questioning it further, immediately assuming that the fault lied in your twisted mind. You must've misunderstood you must've—

Something was brewing beneath his exterior, you could tell. Something dangerous flicked in his gaze, something that you knew justified your fear towards your own spawn. Now, any minute, you swore he would burst and unleash his inner demons.

“Mother,”

“I apologise.” he smiled. You felt yourself release a breath, one you weren't aware you had been holding.

“I didn't think about my words, I am truly sorry.”

You quickly wrapped things up after that and it was not long before you send him off on his merry way. If he continued to talk about his father as if he wished for him to be only a memory and his skeleton six feet under the earth, then he would only spiral into a world of trouble and take you with him.

Besides—since when was he this rebellious? You sighed, feeling pain bloom between your brows.

Was this some sort of mockery?

To shame you continuously?

Or why for god's sake was this bitch in your chambers again?

“Your Majesty!” she chirped and you wished you could claw your eyes out and stuff them into her mouth so she would finally shut up.

“Child…”

“Maria, it's Maria, your majesty!” she huffed, then pouted, again clad in nothing but her nightgown, underwear really; silk that fell over her shoulders and reached down to her ankles.

“Besides—,” she pouted and you started to question the sanity of this woman, “You're not much older than me, your Majesty. Mhm, like an elder sister! How about I call you queen sister? Since we both will be queens!” she giggled.

Had she been dropped on her head at birth? You couldn't help but stare wordlessly, as she interlinked her arm with yours.

“Again. This is not the king’s chambers.”

“But queen sister—”

“Don't call me that.”

“But—”

“I said don't call me that!” you screamed.

Great. Now you were causing a scene in the hallway, with your maids and the guards watching. Great.

However you hadn't been prepared yet for the grand finale—suddenly she bursted into tears. Graciously of course, she was a lady, a lady with many tricks up her sleeve that is. She was crying, seemingly an endless stream, sobbing and quivering, staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes.

If there was a god in heaven, you were certain that he hated you.

“My queen” she was still sobbing, now leaning forward so her cold lips could brush against your ear.

“You scream at me again and I’ll tell the king that you insulted me to my face.”

You gasped, this cocky little—

Yet what could you do? You knew one of her words amounted to a bar of gold to him; something to be treasured, possibly sacred. But you, he never had viewed you as such, you were the mother of his child and the queen yes—but your presence, —you knew as much as that— never has been valuable besides those two strong points. He saw you as an ally, a friend of sorts, a political fawn; someone with an intellect, but nothing more.

You didn't want to imagine his anger at even just daring to belittle what was rightfully his, that you, the queen in his little game of chess, would've mustered up courage that bordered on dangerously life-threatening.

So you sighed, with liquid anger pumping through your veins and your face flushing from the pressure of it. Your temples hurt again. Your head hurt again

You didn't register her leaving with a shit—eating grin on her face, nor the fact that one of your maid, Leslie, was half-carrying you inside your chamber, having to sit you down on your bed before feeding you your medicine in form of a brew.

It was funny, like your memory was wiped clean—as if your mind was a clean slate similar to how it had been when you were a drooling infant. Everything around you eased, the tension, the worries—what even was there to worry? You hummed, even purred in satisfaction as you drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

You hated waking up. Peace never existed beyond a deep slumber void of dreams. You hated dreams, you hated being dragged up and dressed like a doll and hated the sky. Especially the sky with its sparkling stars all mocking you, calling you as you were; defeated.

Utterly so.

Your reminisced about your beloved husband calling you to discuss something urgent with him. What could've been this urgent matter, one may ponder? Well, it was Maria.

“Have you started your preparations for the ball, yet?” his tone was colder than usual.

“No, but I am very much in—”

“Then haste. It will be held soon enough.”

You nodded politely, not wanting to aggregate his nerves further. So he waved you off and dismissed you, until he abruptly spoke up.

“And make sure that boy learns some manners.” his glare was so sharp it cut into your nape.

“Will do, husband.” you fled the room after that.

Perhaps you did not actually flee, but you certainly felt inclined to do so. Sometimes you did fantasize about escaping to a lone island, one that would resemble the paradise your nanny had always spoken so fondly of. What was her name again? You didn't remember, you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried because all you called her was Mommy—obviously only behind closed doors, away from any eyes or ears that could rat her out to your real hag of a mother.

She had been the only thing close to a mother's loving embrace which you so frequently would read about in books; fairytales and romances. An angel with crooked teeth and a hunchback, but an angel no less, with a softness to her that you never were able to replicate no matter how hard you tried. She was simply of different blood that wasn't blue nor red but gold; she wasn't like the rest of them. But you were like them, hiding behind a mask, no matter how terrible life whipped at you to reveal the truth—you wouldn't, you were trained to not give in after all, drilled from a young age.

And she had been so adamant to free you, telling you stories about juicy fruits with tastes rivalling that of honey, a sky that never darkened and greenery that never faded—if you narrowed your eyes to slits, you could imagine the royal garden spread out in front of you to be the paradise she so often spoke about.

You sighed again. Those were just childish fantasies. Something she had made up to bring you happiness, even if your shared wonder only lasted two years before she was caught being too affectionate with you and discarded.

As a chubby five-year old you had been devastated and confused, wondering why she had left you behind to fend for yourself, alone with the wolves. But as you matured, as your own son's nannies came and disappeared, you realized it had never been her fault in the first place. They had been at fault.

“Your majesty!”

Some of your days were good, tranquil even, but some—some were either destructively evil or somberly empty.

“Your majesty—” and today you wanted to be somber, away from everything. But fate didn't want this. Of course it didn't, fate despised you as you did your mother. So even if you had promised to betray fate instead and experience an adventurous tryst with the man in front of you just out of spite, you felt no desire to speak with him or anyone else, after the short but life-threatening conversation you had had with his majesty.

“Has he upset you again?”, Charles sighed, his initial enthusiasm fading, “It seems every time we converse you're miserable.”

Now that he mentioned it—he wasn't wrong. He was like some sort of saviour, someone that reminded you of your nanny so long ago and your hardened heart softened again. You didn't want to push him away, not Charles, not the man with soft-features, a tender look in his eyes, with his dashing looks and personality—not when he was only a few years younger than you. So little in fact, it wouldn't matter at your age anymore.

“Seems so.” you muttered and you couldn't hold your hand back from outstretching to pull him down besides you on your little white-painted bench placed in the shades, with another piece of embroidery in your lap. For a moment he was silent, stunned by your fingers wrapped around his wrist for all eyes to feast on—and continuing to hold it even as he sat.

“It seems you're always there for me, Charles.” was this a fever dream? Or why else would you, the queen, tempt him so, seductive as always, yet bolder than ever, calling him so intimately out here—hopefully out of the ear of onlookers to the spectacle; your maid and a few guards scattered around.

And then you even fluttered your lashes at him, so blindingly beautiful that it hurt. Tantalizing with your lips that he was certain were sweeter than sugar, and the new heart-robbing smile on those soft pillars of warmth. The slope of your nose, the apple of your cheek, everything about you was sin incarnate and he was just helpless to the devil’s calls. Just what if he leaned down and—

“I thank you.” god you teased him.

“It's my pleasure. As a devotee to the crown.” he managed to finesse and gloss over his little stammer with a bright smile and you, thankfully, let it slip.

Or at least he assumed so.

Actually you were giggling in your head like one of those young village girls, when a boy would ask for a dance—you had watched that spectacle occur one time out on the countryside for some respite after mother's passing.

What a time it had been, so beautifully peaceful with only the birds to yap away— similar to now, the only difference was that now you were holding his hand, and nothing, not even the king could prevent you from enjoying this moment to the fullest.

“Charles. How long have we known eachother?”

“Fourteen years and counting, your Majesty.” he answered, with warmth in his eyes. The day was warm—the sun blazing and at its peak, with the garden neatly trimmed, sitting beneath the proud tall that was probably older than both of you combined, the shade provided you would with protection from her rays.

“Thank you, Charles, for always consoling me in times of need.” your fingers slithered between his own, entangling your hands under lingering eyes, yet in that little moment you found yourself not caring. Life was short, so why shouldn't you be able to enjoy life to the fullest as his majesty. If it came and he would hear of this, you would accept whatever punishment, because you were sick of not being free.

Then again you felt freedom spread her wings above you with Charles by your side.

You smiled, softly, gently, tenderly even. A smile not even your son had ever earned from you—something he probably never would, no matter what he tried, because he was still that man’s son with motives behind his façade that you could never figure out. He was still the baby that terrified you with the ravenous hunger in his soul reflected in his gaze.

And that very son, was plastered against one of the castle windows, his glare bearing down on you both, if possible, it would have burned a hole through your face from the sheer intensity of it. You had always viewed your child as creepy—unsettling to be around for too long. But you had never possessed any evidence for it—you knew not to blame a seedling, something that had sprung from you, but you just couldn't stop yourself from feeling dread when meeting his eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, this silent horror was not completely irrational.

Actually it was simple survival instinct.

Especially when the heir to the kingdom craved nothing more but your motherly love and seeing you give affection to his uncle, of all people – his enemy — he couldn't help but trash your favourite vase. Actually he wasn't that different to you in that sense—he needed chaos and destruction to satisfy the inner barbarian in him.

“Mother,” he slammed his fists onto your desk. He had been snooping around your study—his favourite past time activity since he had managed to steal the second pair of keys to the room you viewed as sacred and safe. If you just knew, Mother.

“You give, Mother. To everyone but me.”

he was trying to maintain his composure, to not burst into a jealous rage from seeing you intertwined hands, the close proximity you shared—the smile plastered onto your face much more similar to that of a young maiden experiencing her first love than the queen with a heart of ice.

The moment his uncle dared to lean forward to brazenly press a kiss to your knuckles, was the moment he snapped. Destruction reigned over your study, his desire for carnage so raw, he treated craftsmanship like flesh and blood, strangling them as if they owed him an apology.

Then finally it was over.

As it was, peace settled over his silhouette, drenched in his own sweat in the stifling hot room, panting like a rabid dog.

“Mother,” you both were gone now from his view, he should haste, he knew, but he couldn't leave without these last words.

“If you won't give me your love willingly, as a mother should. Then I will take what is mine to own. I will overthrow father, be the king. You won't be able to escape, me, your son. You won't shun me no longer, mother. I won't allow it.”

Mother I will own your leash.

When you finally parted—you felt light and airy. Freedom was on the tip on your tongue, and butterflies danced around your hollowed out chest. Summer lingered on your skin, warm and sandy, reminding you of beaches you had never visited and tropical fruits that run over the back of your hand when you squeezed tad too tightly.

You hadn't felt so giddy in a while, nothing could ruin your good mood, not your husband, nor his mistress and neither your son. Cotton clouds were wrapping around you and you would be damned if you wasted time to not mock the stars back, staring up at the bright sky with a sneer. See, Mother? I will have my freedom too. I won't end like you, heartbroken by a man that never learned to love.

How foolish you were. Unassuming even. Years of living on this earth, shackled by fate and you still dared to dream.

So when the door to your study gave in and you entered to discover—

nothing amiss.

You sighed, you were being paranoid again, weren't you? How silly of you. Why would anything be out of order—children and most servants were forbid from entering. You handled delicate matters, events even; such as banquets and balls, carefully writing out invitations to selected guests, curating the invitations. Also you were responsible for all of your servants and the choices they made.

Before the old king’s unfortunate death you had been responsible with his care. He had deteriorated into a bad mental state in the last two years of his life; so much so that he couldn't recognise his son anymore. You had shared your husband's pain then, younger and naïve, a decade ago.

But you didn't, not anymore, not after so much you suffered through and with him only for him to sought out a courtesan and bend the entire law for her, risking even a coop!

You approached your sleeping quarters as always, while thinking about Maria, which granted you with a pulsing headache—in the literal sense. You should ask one of your maids, maybe Leslie, to brew you, your medicine once again.

“Maria." you greeted her dryly, the routine familiar now.

“Your Majesty!” she chirped as always and you had to control the twitch of your eye—or the twitch in your hand to slap her.

You opted to just silently stare at her, agitated by having to encounter her each night in your chambers, dressed in a nightgown you didn't want to imagine the king peeling off of her skin. She was trying to shame you, in front of your closest servants and in front of the guilt-stricken guard—that couldn't deny her request because in fear of attracting the king's anger.

“Your Majesty! I have waited and waited, just where have you been?” she was active as a child—but her eyes mirrored that of a snake, just searching for one of your weak points, so that she could torment you further until she managed to properly get rid of you.

“Maria please move. I would like to rest.”

“Then let's rest together! I am terribly tired—you know how tiring the king can be! So ravenous.” she snickered, much to the horror of your servants around you, “Oh..my apologies. Am I hurting your Majesty’s feelings?” her slanted gaze drooped, pity and amusement lingering in their depths.

Oh.

She did not—

That bitch!

“Leave!” you roared. Not towards her but to everyone around you, needing to feel her scalp beneath your fingers. You knew what you would be doing now was going to wind up ruining your just newly acquired saccharine taste of freedom, and probably destroy your life—but your anger gripped your by your shoulders and slapped you on your back as you roughly shoved her inside of your chambers.

Darkness shrouded the room in thrilling mystery of what to come—at least you thought Maria found it to be thrilling judging by her giddy following, excited to play a sick and twisted game of cat and mouse in the privacy of your chambers.

Your burst came all too soon and familiar—stripping you of any royalty, drowning out all the voices in your head trying to shackle the beast you would become when allowed. Usually you were only to do so in private, behind your doors—with only your servants to be subjected to your other face, but this time you wanted to indulge Maria. Show her heavenly grace and what it meant to be of royal descent.

You strangled her.

Everything unfolded in the blink of an eye, you couldn't stop or control yourself before tackling her causing her to stumble over your carpet in shock, crashing with into your nightshade, lamp shattering the moment it embraced the marbled floors while she embraced you as you both tumbled into your bed.

“Have the king! Have him all you want—like all the other men that you had between your legs. Warm him at cold nights! I urge you, please do.” hissing you leaned down to continue. “But know that you will never be able to be loved as much by the court, by the people, by everyone else. You won't survive this for too long. Even if I am beheaded after this.” you snarled while noting that she was indeed oddly calm beneath your palms. You were uncertain. Maybe it was the sheer shock? Perhaps she was weaker than you had assumed?

Or, she had died.

Panic surged through you. You weren't ready to be her murderer just yet! The thought alone made you flinch as if it branded your forehead in big bold letters in crimson. As if everyone could already bear witness to your crimes.

And suddenly you stood in front of the court.

Fingers pointed at you, screeching out blurts of sentences you couldn't make out, while you were dragged away by your own son, his grip on your hair so tight that you swore your scalp would peel off any minute now.

Kicked to kneel in front of the king, you begged and pleaded but mercy was foreign to the man that robbed you of your youth, and that you robbed of love and his sword swung high and far before—

You convulsed, gagging only at the thought, letting loose of her neck instantly, falling off of her onto the silken covers.

“I am sorry—” you mumbled, scrambling away from her, stubbornly looking away from the assumed corpse.

You were about to flee, kicking away the covers, dazed by the turn of events, trying to claw yourself back to your feet.

Run, Run, Run. It chanted inside of your head, and you surely would’ve managed to do so, if Maria’s fingers didn't clasp around your arm like a python’s jaw.

“Where are you going, your Majesty? We just started didn't we.” you shrieked, her hoarse voice genuinely startling.

Slowly you turned around to face the woman, with wide-eyed panic still clear on your face. “Let go of me!”

“Why? So you can take flight? Escape? Your majesty, even if you run, Edwin’s underlings will still catch you.” she was grinning, a feverish rush on her cheeks, mania clear and deep in her icy blue stare. “There's no one to run to, your Majesty. No where to hide. Embrace it. You're a monster. Old and greedy, craving things that no longer are yours.”

Was the bed coming closer? Or were you being pushed down? Because soon enough you laid on your bed, another headache, so potent it nearly blinded you with its pain—left you at the mercy of her cruel words.

“The king doesn't love you. He never has. Never will.” she muttered, with purple blooming on her throat like blossoming tulips, “You suffer for naught, your Majesty. Why do you worry for someone with such little regard of your person?” it was a bitter pill to swallow the truth in her words—and even if you wished to protest, you couldn't.

You were tongue-tied from the agony, with suddenly lead instead of bones, only further sinking into the open arms of your bedding.

“You're a fool, your Majesty.” a laugh ripped free from her throat. “For ever agreeing to be alone with me, don't you fear what I could be? Don't you fear my hands on your cheeks? Don't you fear the lust for blood in my gaze?” her voice like a melody, like a drug to aid to your wounds—it worked better than the mix of herbs you usually downed to find relief.

“Will you kill me?” you asked, only to earn another boisterous laugh that felt like a whip on your soul accompanied with slanted eyes that slithered over your form.

“No, far worse,” she paused, gaze smoldering.

“I will love you and you will love me.”

Pause.

You gawked. What was she saying?

“What?” you spat, puzzled.

She was completely deprived of sisterly love, or so it seemed. This was bizarre, downright weird—had she gone mad? Now you feared whatever her sick mind conjured next.

Something morphed and shifted until a smile so daunting, that if it weren't for the pulsing agony between your brows, you would've slapped it off her face and gladly so, while simultaneously increasingly feeling as if you were trapped in the coils of a snake.

“Edwin doesn't see you, as I do, your Majesty. He cannot see the madness in you, as I can. The insanity in your eyes, the very same one I crave to have. He doesn't love you, he doesn't. Not like I do.” your brows scrunched up, puzzled, she truly spoke like a madwoman.

Maria only chuckled. Her gaze narrowed in on your lips, in a way that twisted your stomach in discomfort; the way a man leers at a woman he desires. What foolishness! She couldn't possibly mean such an atrocity! It was never heard of a woman with a woman—

And as if to prove you wrong, tear your worldview apart, she leaned down with heavy paws pressing onto your shoulders. Your corset seemed tighter. The air or the lack of it was stifling. She wouldn't, right?

Fate truly had never been kind to you—and now it proved itself to be only more cruel as her lips crashed onto yours.

She was feverish with soft lips and scraping teeth, her tongue poked and prodded as if she tried to hollow out the warm cavern of your mouth. Her scent lingered in your nose so strongly it made your eyes water—lavender mixed with something you failed to recognise as she smashed her mouth against yours over and over again, until you were convinced that she was trying to strangle you with the wet muscle in her mouth instead of her hands.

The moment she let go off your figure, as stiff as a board , she was smirking deviously, as if she won a prize in a competition. As if the prize was you.

“I promise—” she leaned down, languidly slow, as if she had all the time in the world with no concern for the ravenous chaos she had just unleashed inside of you, “that even after Edwin’s reign, you will stay queen by my side.”

A bone-chilling cold kiss pressed to your damp temple.

“Goodnight, my queen.”

Sleep was not kind enough to visit you that night or the night after even though Maria had abruptly stopped with her nightly visits after that faithful encounter—still, your head was a buzzing beehive of thoughts. You were overwhelmed and at a loss for words at the strangeness of it all. For her to kiss you and demand—No, you refused to ponder about it further.

Nevertheless as if fate wished to humiliate you further —the stars in the sky hiding behind the light of the sun at daytime mocking you — your son was glued to you for the past half an hour or so, even had send all your servants away and no matter how much you tried to pry him off he would have an excuse prepared smoothly evading all your accusations. It was creepy. Has he sensed something? He never was so persistent.

Nevertheless you still couldn't fathom why she had did, what she had done.

Even days later, it just didn't make sense. What benefit could she reap from forcing her mouth onto yours and behaving like a man? You shuddered just at the thought, everything about this situation was odd, vile, repulsing and something else. Something you wished to keep buried deep in you and left unexplored.

“Mother, look! It's a swan with ducklings.” he pointed out the window, at this very moment behaving much more closer in age to a child than to a man. “Yes, Nicholas. How grand.” you muttered dryly, eyes kept steady on the embroidery in your lamp while indulging him slightly, after countless failed attempts and of hushing him away, you had tired and the pounding headache that wouldn't relent didn't make you any more awake.

“Swans mate for life. Do you believe this one is mated?” your brow twitched in frustration, eyes kept steadily on your needle, going in-and-out of the tight fabric.

“I do not concern myself with such matters, perhaps you also shouldn't.” you muttered abrasively, watching the motive of a purple tulip come to life, something about it eerily similar.

“I believe that it was mated. Then rid itself of its mate. It knows it doesn't need one. Just look mother— all the cygnets that follow without her mate in sight. They all seem so happy. Especially the mother swan, the way she—” red obscured your vision.

Something warm and human dripped down your hand. You didn't move, didn't even breathe, all you did was stare at the needle sticking out of your hand.

“Mother?—” a gasp, “Mother!” his footsteps were overwhelmingly loud, even louder than his ramblings that were grating on your nerves.

“Oh Mother.” the condescending attribute of his tone was sharp and rung in your ears. “What have you done? Your beautiful skin,” he was mumbling again. God, when would this child stop mumbling beneath his breath! And his eyes full of fake pity concealing something much darker made you just want to pluck the needle from your hand and ram it into your throat, perhaps then the scornful look on your mother's face would finally stop haunting you every living moment.

“Mother, you're upset again, aren't you? You're always upset.” Nicholas face fell as if genuinely distraught, taking your wounded hand in his, prodding at the damage you caused. “Father doesn't know how to care for you, he is mean and brutish. To scold you for informing him that you can't possibly prepare the banquet because you're unwell and getting mad at you. He’s audacious, a fool. He doesn't deserve you—no one deserves you Mother. No one but me.”

You yelped as he pressed down onto the needle, causing further damage to your hand—the pain unbearably uncomfortable. For days your head was a dizzy spur of thoughts, paranoid and refusing to meet Charles and now, you couldn't even be properly be enraged about your son's foolishness. At least the mind-numbing headache of yours lessened thanks to the one in your hand.

Suddenly he was much closer, eyes a combination of bright and hopeful and sick. There was something manic about his gaze too, something that made you swallow thickly, alarm you once more to not stare at the demon dressed in your son's human’s shell.

“Mother, I will be a fair king. I will be good. And I will take care of you in a way, no man or husband can. So just endure it for a while longer, I know you carry all this pain with you—and all of it is the reason why you can't love me fully. But if father, his whore and everyone else that upsets you dies—then you will be free. Then you will be free to love me how much you want. We can finally be happy mother.”

You were about to puke. Was this what you had allowed to grow? Over all the years, no matter how much you detested spending time with the little copy of Edwin, you had made sure he only had the best nannies, a great governess and tutors at hand. All for him to spew out such nonsense.

But you had known. Known since the day he was born, that Nicholas was not sane. And right now it both angered and chilled you to see your worst fears manifest in flesh and blood.

“Get lost. Out of my eyes.” you hissed, bathed in cold sweat. You had to get up and out. Needed to flee before you were given the moment to acknowledge that you were raising such cruelness beneath the facade of a noble. Perhaps what amplified your dread was that he—the look of insanity in his eyes, the hatred, yet longing mixing into a destructive love— and you weren't so different after all.

That you both craved motherly affection so intensely you both had spiralled, into different lows, but spiralled nonetheless.

“Mother—you don't mean that.” he smiled. Yet not calm anymore. He wouldn't hide it no longer. You deserved to know that he forgave you, that he saw your pain and ache and that he would ease it for you. Just let him destroy the world only to rebuild it in your name, so that you could finally love him.

“No.” you breathed. He didn't relent, clutching your hand as if it was sacred.

“No! Let go!” you shoved him away this time, crying out in pain, as the needle’s head now pierced through your palm. You were trembling. The creatures lurking in the shadows would now find you. Freedom was a dream, happiness equally but at least you used to have peace, at least you used to have Charles, but this new reality of yours, with your son as the same maniac you were in your youth, would destroy it all. He will take from you, as he always had.

Your anger boiled over.

It was a mistake—he was the heir for god's sake, no matter how foul his mouth had gotten!

Nothing changed the fact that it was done though.

You slapped him right across the face, as his father had done, startling him into a stunned moment of silence. He was as if frozen, shocked that the verbal abuse you inflicted on him would actually one day turn physical. For a moment everything halted, the particles of dust in the air, the chirping of the birds, the soft footsteps echoing around the castle and only shock remained.

Then he smiled.

“Mother—”

And you fled.

You scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the room in such a hurry, you still held your embroidery in your hand while out in the hallway, running pathetically slowly. This wasn't your son. Even after years you still refused the truth, you didn't ask for this! Fate was cruel, but it couldn't be this—not this! You were a queen now, your mother would've been proud, the same mother you had thrown off the balcony.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, sick to the stomach. No, not now! You couldn't cry now, not when duty and responsibility always came before being and feeling and living and— Before you even realized you plucked the needle from the back of your hand, throwing the embroidery against one of the oil paintings hanging nearby, hoping your blood could lay curses and if it actually could,

You hoped to curse this entire castle.

Everything should’ve changed after her death! You should've been free, should’ve lived a better life than her—but you were following into her footsteps, the same miserable marriage only used as a pawn, with the same excuse for a husband caring even little for his heir. You hated it, hated it so much you could burst!

“Your Majesty?”

“Charles,” you muttered, lip between your teeth. You groaned, stumbling forward, dressed in red—the colour which had adored your mother as she had laid lifelessly on the ground. Life was funny indeed wasn't it?

The man has been your angel for so many years, once more spread his wings embracing you in all his glory, letting your red taint him with the evil your mother, you and your son bore. It was in your blood, in your very DNA, you were bred to be a demon—perhaps that's why your son's eyes had always send a chill down your spine, not because he possessed the same potent green of his father, but he held the same wickedness in it. The one you recognised.

“By god!—”

And speak of the devil and he rushed towards you, immediately growling at his uncle that held you in his clutches. Yet before he could step further forward, the doors to his father's study opened, the room one of the largest and proudest and with its opening the king stepped out with Maria as always glued to his side.

All of them and the servants—all were staring at you, while you couldn't help but let your tears flow; your pounding headache, the blinding lights and the blurry edges in your vision everything you could focus on, all were maddening.

You were dying weren't you? This was probably the divine judgment for all your sins. Perhaps the stars were right to scorn and mock you; you were indeed pitiful, a creature born out of neglect and the same abuse you instilled on others now.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the king demanded as proud as ever, before the world was replaced by a void and swallowed you whole and the chaotic cries around you dimmed, until your own stopped.

Until you were no more.

Hopefully this time you would be reborn as a bird with fully fleshed-out wings.

#A Heart Of Gold #yandere #yandere story #yandere oc #yandere ocs #yandere royalty #male yandere x reader #female yandere #platonic yandere #yandere stories #yandere x reader #yandere x you #cw: abuse #yandere scenarios #long fic #yandere male

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jinhyun · 3 months ago

Text

—in a different light.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s little brother au

word count: 5.2k

summary: when another girl makes hyunjin question the way you see him, inevitably leaving him to sulk, he wants nothing but to go to you and hold you in his arms. and good thing he did, for that was all he needed to realise how wrong she was.

a/n: here she is! like i said this part doesn’t show the upcoming convo between y/n and dahye but!!we have a very good hyunyn moment if you ask me and a lot of you were asking about hyunie’s tweet about the almost kiss lol. as always i hope you guys enjoy! i would love to read your different thoughts on this<3

Hyunjin wanted you to rely on him.

Ever since the night you broke down in his arms when Mingyu left, he promised to himself to always be there for you no matter what. And then when you grew closer as the new year started, not only was his goal to be there for you anymore, but for you to notice that he was, and therefore to know that you could go to him whenever you felt like you needed someone.

However, the thing was, that just as you began to rely on him the way he wanted, he failed to realise that he, too, started to rely on you the most — not to say to need you more than he ever had.

It only hit him after the very unpleasant conversation with Dahye he had that afternoon.

Although he sounded cold, unbothered even, he couldn’t help but feel upset about it.

It wasn’t even Dahye threatening with telling you about his feelings for you what he was upset about — he was being so obvious about them already anyway, if anything her telling you would only confirm what you deep down already knew. It sucked that it wouldn’t be on his own terms and timing, sure, but that was it.

He could also always confess that day, before Dahye even had the chance to do it for him, but he didn’t want to rush into something he knew you weren’t ready to hear just yet, only for Dahye not to end up acting on her words in the end. In all honesty, he didn’t think she would do it. She wouldn’t, right? He wanted to believe she wasn’t obsessed with him to the point of actually coming in between your relationship.

No, that wasn’t it. What upset him were her spiteful words about his age, and how you would never be able to see past your age gap.

He knew it was stupid. Three years were nothing. Maybe they were when you just met, when he was still a high schooler, a teenager, but not anymore. Not now that you were both in your twenties and he had a career, a job, a car. Now that he was able to drive you around, take you out, buy you stuff just because. Most importantly, three years were definitely nothing now that you grew close enough to become actual friends —although there was nothing platonic on his end of your friendship—, being able to joke around and treat each other as equals, finally leaving behind the ‘little brother/big sister’ dynamic you had unintentionally adopted with him by being Yeji’s best friend, and which he grew to despise with everything in him as the years went by.

He had even brought it up to you only a few days ago, how he didn’t want you to still see him like the teen boy you met six years ago, and you promised him you didn’t; that you saw him as the man he was now — as Hyunjin. Just Hyunjin.

Nevertheless, although he knew your small age gap was nothing now, and although you had confirmed it to him not even a week ago, up until he managed to make you fall for him, it would always be his biggest insecurity when it came to you. And, therefore, having someone point out how ‘clearly’ you treated him like a child, even if it came from a place of spite, like he knew it did from Dahye, could only make him sulk.

And it was when his mind was spinning and his heart was hurting, that he realised he wanted nothing more but to go to you in that moment.

He wanted to hold you close, to wrap his arms ever so tightly around you, and to have your arms wrapped around his body just as fondly. He wanted to feel your chest move up and down against his with every breath you took, to feel your breathing on his neck as you hid your face in the crook of it, and to take in that sweet scent of yours he loved so much.

He wanted to be with you, close to you. Simple as that.

And, thankfully for him, expressing his wishes to you was all it took for you to accept him at your place. Even though you were busy right then, having him say he was feeling down and wanted nothing but to be with you was all it took for you to put your workload aside and focus on him.

That’s how Hyunjin ended up at your door only half an hour later, entering the passcode he knew by heart. It was still surreal for him to have reached this point in your relationship, where you’d tell him to just help himself into your place when he arrived, like you had texted him to a few minutes ago.

It felt almost domestic, without you being a couple yet. And he loved it to bits.

“I’m here!” He announced his arrival as soon as he entered your place, not to have you freak out over your door opening so suddenly.

“Hey, I’m in the kitchen!” You replied from the next room, just as he took his shoes off and put on the slippers you kept for your guests by the door.

Wasting no time, he made his way into the kitchen, unable to hide the beaming smile creeping up his face at the sight of you in an apron, with your hair tied up into a ponytail, as you were just putting a tray of what looked like chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

“Suddenly felt like eating something sweet?” He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame as he admired you.

You shook your head no, closing the oven and then quickly fixing the heat before you stood up and finally looked at him — your eyes inevitably softening when they met his. “Just thought we could have some coffee and your favourite cookies later in order to cheer you up…”

Being too shy by your own statement, you missed the way his lips parted into a lovesick smile that showed his teeth. You did, however, hear the breathy laugh that escaped his mouth right after, feeling him enter the room and get closer to you right as you cleaned up the remains of flour on the counter.

And maybe you focused a little too hard on said task, for you failed to realise how close to you he actually got — only doing so when you felt his chin rest on your shoulder and his arms sneak around your waist, loosely enough not to push any boundaries.

“Thank you…” he mumbled cutely, unable to see just how flustered you were. “You didn’t have to, though. Just being with you is enough to make me feel better”.

You bit your bottom lip in a poor attempt to avoid a smile from showing on your face, looking down to his intertwined hands over your stomach, before you found yourself covering them with your own and gently rubbing your thumbs on his soft skin.

“There was no harm in taking it one step further and making you a sweet treat, was there?” You asked, tilting your head back so you could look at him.

Hyunjin smiled softly, eyes going down to your mouth for a second before he nodded his head. It was only becoming harder not to lean in and press his lips to yours when you were so close to him.

Luckily —or not really— for him, you put some space between the two of you by undoing his hold around your waist and turning around, so you could properly look at him.

“I may have gotten a bit caught up and ended up making more cookie dough than I intended to, though” you confessed, undoing your ponytail and beginning to take off your apron. “So I put the rest of it in a container that I’m giving you to take back home later. Just keep it in the freezer and whenever you feel like having some preheat the oven at—what…” you shyly wondered when Hyunjin could not hold back a giggle, quietly placing the folded apron on the counter.

He shook his head in disbelief, letting out another small laugh as his warm hands cupped your face.

I love you, is what he wanted to say.

Fuck, he loved you.

He loved how you cared for him and everyone you loved. Because you loved him, he knew you did, even if it was only platonically.

He loved how you had dropped everything that day, regardless of how busy you were, just to be with him when he said he needed you.

He loved how you showed affection by baking and doing small acts of service.

He loved the way you loved so beautifully, so selflessly; without asking for anything in return — although, unknown to you right then, he was willing to give you everything in return.

He loved you. All of you.

From head to toe, inside and out, he loved every last bit of you.

“You’re the best” he said instead, adoringly looking at you while his thumbs drew gentle circles on your cheeks.

“All I did was bake some cookies…”

“And you’re the best” he repeated, leaning in once more and tightly wrapping you inside his arms.

“Hyunie…” you sweetly called his name when he began to softly rock your bodies together.

“What, I said I wanted to hold you” he mumbled nuzzling a ticklish spot in your neck that had you letting out a laugh.

“I thought maybe you’d do that after I took the cookies out of the oven”.

At that, he smiled, pulling away just enough to look at you. “Now why would I do that, I’m taking every second I get”.

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you playfully tried to pry his hands away from your body. “You’re a dork”.

He chuckled, only tightening his hold on your waist and lifting you up with ease. “Maybe,” he sat you down on the counter, not wasting another second to pull you into his arms once again and to hide his face in the crook of your neck, all while you were still trying to process what had just happened. “But I did say I was coming over just to hold you, so…”

“Just to hold me?” You wondered, for once and for all hugging him back and feeling him relax under your touch.

“Just to hold you” he hummed, getting lost in the way your hand gently ran up and down his back.

“You won’t be eating the cookies I made especially for you then?”

He chuckled, somehow managing to pull you closer to him. “I will be eating all those and then taking the dough you told me about home with me”.

“I would’ve been very sad otherwise” you pushed it, earning a brittle laugh from him.

“You’re gonna have to text me the instructions, though, because otherwise I’ll most definitely end up fucking it up somehow and burning them”.

“I’d expect something like that from Han and not you, honestly” you admitted.

“Oh, he’s not allowed anywhere near my cookies”.

“Don’t be selfish now” you called him out.

“You made them especially for me, though” he stood his ground.

“Should I make a whole batch for him then?” You teased, pulling him away by his shoulders, so you’d meet his eyes right before you pensively stared at the ceiling. “Maybe one for Minho as well”.

“Yah, they can get their own person to bake for them” he called you out. “You’re mine”.

Trying your hardest to ignore the butterflies that had just been unleashed in your stomach, you played dumb. “Oh, so I’m like your personal baker now?”

He smirked, knowing all too well what you were doing. “You know that’s not really what I meant”.

Finding it hard to meet his eyes without growing nervous, you looked down to your lap instead, noticing his loose grip on your waist. “Let them at least try one if you don’t want me to send them some, then”.

“I’ll think about it after the nap you promised me” Hyunjin negotiated.

You chuckled, only then locking eyes with him. “We gotta wait until the cookies are done first. They take around ten minutes, there isn’t enough time left for us to actually fall asleep”.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t cuddle in the meantime” he fidgeted with the fabric of your t-shirt.

“I guess you’re right…” you agreed softly. “We could go to the sofa for now”.

“For now?” He questioned. “Where are we going next?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to take a nap?” You confusedly asked right back.

“Yes?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I thought on the couch?”

“Oh,” you felt your cheeks burn. “The couch, of course”.

“Where were you thinking?” He smiled —more like, smirked— as he caught on.

“I’m not saying it” you sheepishly looked away, earning a throaty laugh from him that had him resting his forehead on your shoulder for a moment, as he collected himself.

“I have no problem napping in your bed as long as you’re okay with it” he managed to put into words what you refused to.

“I simply thought it’d be more comfortable but now I’m too embarrassed, so let’s just go to the sofa instead”.

“Don’t be,” he lovingly pulled a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all about comfort after all”.

“Never mind, I’m too ashamed now”.

“Couch then?” He suggested, not wanting to push your limits.

“I mean, I guess, but it’s gonna be uncomfortable though…” you mumbled, taking the two of you back to the night you fell asleep together on it, and how your bodies hurt the next morning.

He knew first hand that your couch wasn’t the best place to sleep on and that you weren’t just using it as an excuse to take him to your bed — although he wouldn’t mind it if you were.

“Then bed” he stated the obvious, unable to hide his grin.

You half laughed, half whined, letting your head fall on his shoulder to hopelessly hide yourself from this conversation.

“Y/N, if you don’t decide within the next five seconds, I’m choosing one and carrying you there”.

“You wouldn’t” you mumbled.

“Is that a challenge?”

You shrugged, still refusing to lift your head up and to give him a proper answer.

“Okay then,” he sighed, making your heart jump when you felt his hands grab the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of the counter —and, therefore, to him—. “Just for the record, I warned you”.

With that said, his hands travelled slightly up to the back of your thighs, lifting you up enough for you to wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct, just as a small, surprised squeal escaped your mouth.

This wasn’t platonic, you thought while you crossed the door and entered your living room. This was so way past being platonic.

His hands on your thighs, your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck while your face hid in it, as you were too shy right then to look up and meet his eyes that would be only a couple of inches away… These weren’t touches you’d share with a friend, let alone with just anyone else.

You could see the red lights in your head warning you about the risky path you were taking, and yet, you didn’t want to turn back around.

“Okay, last chance” he stopped right outside the door to your room. “Where are we napping”.

“I thought you were choosing instead?” You tilted your head back, finally earning enough courage to look at him.

“I was, but I’m trying to be a gentleman here and let you have the last word”.

You chuckled, feeling like you were losing your mind. “Just take me to the bedroom already”.

His head tilted back in surprise, eyes sparkling in a way you’d never seen before. “Oh?”

“No, don’t” you helplessly tried to fix it, placing a hand over his eyes so you wouldn’t have him giving you that look that for some reason made you so fucking weak. He giggled, accepting his fate as he could not use his hands right then to remove yours from his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

“You know, when you say stuff like that I—”

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you moved your hand down to cover his mouth instead, before he could finish his sentence.

“You’re the one who started it” his loud yet muffled words were enough for you to withdraw your hand completely, placing it back over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean it like that, though?” You repeated your previous point.

He sighed overdramatically, shaking his head as he could not contain his amusement. “You really need to start watching your words”.

“Last time something like this happened, you said it was cute” you reminded him.

“Last time it happened, I wasn’t carrying you like this when we were alone at your place” he pointed out, managing to bring even more heat to your face. “I’m just a simple man, Y/N”.

“Ugh, can we just go take a nap before I get even more embarrassed?” You begged, having already shamefully hidden your face in the crook of his neck.

Hyunjin laughed lightly, silently complying with your wishes and entering your bedroom for once and for all, where he carefully laid you down on your bed before he slumped down next to you.

Not satisfied with just being next to you, he lied on his side to face you and threw an arm over your waist, so he could pull you closer and make the most out of this lazy evening with you.

However, instead of closing his eyes like you’d expected him to as soon as his head hit the pillow, he kept them open, using that moment to admire your face from up close and giving place to a comfortable silence to take over the room, as your eyes remained fixed on him as well and neither of you dared to look away from each other.

“You know, you’re supposed to close your eyes when you’re trying to sleep” you teased him in a whisper after what felt like minutes.

“You’re looking at me instead of closing them, too” he bit back, in a whisper as well.

“There’s no use for me to try and sleep yet, I have to go and take the cookies out of the oven any minute now”.

“Well, I guess I’ll just stare at you as well until that happens, then” Hyunjin said, and at that you could only laugh under your breath, shaking your head as your adoring eyes remained locked with his. “What?” He couldn’t help but nervously ask — somehow the look in your eyes feeling all too new for him and not knowing how to react.

“Nothing, I just…” you kept quiet for a moment, thinking carefully about your next words. “Never thought we’d be like this one day”.

“Like what, about to take a nap in your bed?” He joked.

You playfully shoved him off, having him take that small action of yours to his advantage by grabbing your hand, in order to keep you from pushing him again. “You know what I mean…”

He nodded quietly, staring down at your hands right as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Is it weird?” He asked you, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

Staring down to your interlocked hands now resting in the small space between your bodies, you shook your head no, and Hyunjin released the air he didn’t realise he’d been holding for the five seconds it took you to give him a sincere answer.

“It’s just new,” you confessed, looking up at him. “Different. Not weird”.

Hyunjin smiled sweetly, leaning slightly in so that his head would rest closer to yours on the pillow — close enough for his breathing to mix with yours, for his nose to graze the tip of yours, and for a small tilt of his head to be all it’d take for him to press his lips to yours if he wanted to.

But he wouldn’t. No matter how bad he wanted to kiss you and how hard he was trying not to, he wouldn’t go as far as to close the gap between your mouths and press them together, because he wouldn’t push you.

The ball was in your court. It had been for a while now. He would only get as close as he could without making you uncomfortable, and you would be the one to make the final decision. Whenever you were ready, he would be there, ready as well to take whatever it was you were willing to give him.

The way he caught your eyes going down to his mouth, staring at it for what could be considered longer than normal, to then fix them back in his eyes before they went back down to his lips, just as he was hopelessly doing with yours right then, was enough to let him know you were considering taking the risk.

Nevertheless, right as he felt you move just an inch closer to him, just as he held his breath and thought maybe you would finally make the move and allow him to taste your lips like he had dreamed of countless times by now, the alarm you’d set up on your phone was heard going off from the kitchen.

You inevitably jumped up and away from him, undoing the previous hold of your hands while at it and clearing your throat, almost as if you’d just been pulled away from a trance.

“T-The alarm, I should, um…” you tried your best to compose yourself as you began to stand up. “The cookies…”

Hyunjin simply nodded, just as stunned, letting you know it was okay for you to go.

“Do you want me to bring them to you or maybe come with me and eat them in the kitchen or…”

He smiled. You were blabbering.

Cute.

“As much as I’m dying to try them,” he genuinely let you know. “I just want you to come back here already so we can go back to how we just were before the alarm went off”.

Feeling your cheeks burn, like it seemed to be the norm when you were around him now, you nodded; clumsily stumbling back and pointing towards the door, to let him know you were heading out of there.

With one last lingering look after he nodded his head for you to go, you left him alone in your room to shove his face into the pillow as a mixture of an incredulous laugh and a frustrated whine of his was muffled into it.

That was just his luck.

But he wasn’t crazy, was he? You had been staring at his lips and you did lean closer to him the moment before the alarm went off. The tension was so clear, so palpable, he couldn’t have imagined it. He wasn’t that delusional, was he?

He sighed heavily, resting on his back and defeatedly throwing an arm over his eyes. Had it not been for the stupid alarm, maybe he would be feeling your lips on his right then.

You, on the other hand, although just as frustrated as him, remained speechless, unable to understand what had just happened.

After having mindlessly turned off the alarm as you rushed to take the tray out of the oven, you just stood there in the middle of your kitchen, almost frozen, as you got once again lost in your thoughts.

You wanted to kiss him.

You could try and blame it on the atmosphere surrounding the two of you being just right and luring you into it, or maybe even on the way he looked particularly handsome that day and having his pretty face only inches away from you was being of no help at all. You were only human, after all. But even then, you couldn’t deny that, whatever the reason was, for a moment there you had really wanted to kiss him. Had you even leaned in at some point?

God, had it not been thanks to your alarm, you would probably have ended up rushing into something you were not ready for yet and turning your relationship with Hyunjin into a mess.

Were you really willing to kiss him regardless of the consequences?

It had been, what, a week since Chan opened your eyes about this whole situation with Hyunjin? Roughly one week since you started questioning everything? And you were already thinking of risking it all and kissing him?

You couldn’t just rush into things. Not with Hyunjin. Not when you weren’t sure about anything.

You didn’t know what you wanted, nor what you were looking for yet — either with Hyunjin or with anyone else for that matter. And you cared about him too much to even dream of playing with him.

Which didn’t mean you weren’t willing to explore your feelings for him. You were certain now more than ever that you did feel something for him. Maybe minimum, maybe just a small crush, but you couldn’t deny that there was a spark in your heart that ignited when it came to him. And you wanted to lean into that warm and safe feeling you got whenever you were with him.

You didn’t feel ready to jump into a new relationship just yet, and you didn’t exactly know what Hyunjin wanted from you either; for you knew that, in male language, flirting and giving someone special treatment didn’t always translate to wanting a serious relationship.

It felt too soon to ask him about his intentions with you, too entitled to demand an answer from him right then. But, so far, you were okay with how things were. You were just figuring out your feelings and the depth of them, and you guessed so was he.

Still, whatever it was that you felt, and whatever it was that he did, you couldn’t ignore that there was something going on between the two of you anymore. The conversations you held, the looks you exchanged and the small touches you shared during the past week… Furthermore, the tension you had felt only minutes ago and the urge to lean in and press your lips to his, were all the realisation you needed.

Taking a deep breath, feeling ready to go back to the man waiting for you in your room after managing to clear your mind, you grabbed your phone before you could head back. However, a particular Twitter DM caught your attention before you could do so. Standing in your place, you stared at the notification, reading Dahye’s words over and over.

‘Hey, girlie!’, followed by the smiley emoji with blushy cheeks, which could only come off as cynical from her.

You immediately felt sick to your stomach. You’d gotten a text like that once before in your life, by one of Hayun’s annoying friends trying to warn you about Mingyu and her, and you had wrongfully ignored it —only at first, until you could no longer look past the signs—, so you knew better than to ignore a text like this now. But that didn’t mean you were opening it today.

You had already gone through enough emotions that day. From waking up early to catch up with the project, to have Hyunjin publicly call you pretty on Twitter, to have him text you about feeling down and inevitably making you worry, to have him tell you he wanted to hold you, to have him actually hold you, to feel flustered as ever over the sudden couch or bed discussion whilst being carried by him, to feeling like kissing him for a moment there… You definitely needed a rest, and you wanted nothing but to do so in his arms.

Whatever it was that Dahye wanted to tell you, it could wait — for you knew it had to do with Hyunjin, and you were neither emotionally nor mentally prepared for yet another disillusionment.

Was it wrong of you to want to live in an illusion for just a little longer, in case Dahye’s DM ended up being bad news?

Either way, regardless of your wishes, the nauseous feeling you got at the simple sight of her name and the way your mind was sent spiraling because of her text, could only serve as a reminder of why you weren’t ready for a new relationship yet.

Not even bothering to take your phone back with you anymore, you locked it and left it on the kitchen counter before going back to your room.

Once there, a smile curved up your mouth at the sight of Hyunjin. He was now lying on his back with his hands behind his head, and his eyes had been closed until he felt you cross the door and they inevitably focused on you.

Without a word, he opened his arms for you to go over there. And, without a second thought, you did just that.

Feeling his arms wrap ever so tightly around you as soon as you crawled next to him, you let out a contented sigh as you instantly felt at ease; right before you realised just how close your face was to his and you hid it in his chest.

“What” you daringly mumbled when you felt his chest tremble and his laugh reached your ears.

Instead of answering you right away, he took you by surprise by pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’re adorable” he said, resting his chin on your head and tightening his hold on you.

“Just go to sleep already” you scolded him, in a way cuter voice than you’d intended, which had him laughing once again and mumbling something about how cute you were under his breath.

Feeling how nervous you got both by his words and by being that close to him again, and how you had clearly hidden your face in his chest to avoid having either of you possibly leaning in again, Hyunjin could only confirm that he had not imagined you staring at his mouth and leaning closer to it earlier that day.

Even though you were visibly nervous over it now, and although he could tell you didn’t feel ready just yet, just knowing that you were now beginning to see him in another light, just enough to look at him with longing and maybe even considering to kiss him, was enough for him to be on cloud nine.

He had come here because he needed to feel you close after Dahye planted all those doubts in his mind. He needed the reassurance that you didn’t see him the way she said, and he couldn’t be happier now that he had just confirmed that you were indeed able to look past the baby image you used to have of him.

In the end, he was right to tell her she knew nothing about your relationship, because she truly didn’t. She didn’t know how you acted around each other, how you talked to each other, how you looked at each other.

Only you and him knew how your relationship worked, and even when it came to the bits of it that neither of you were sure about, it was still only for the two of you to figure out.

He realised right then that he shouldn’t mind what outsiders —let alone Dahye of all people— had to say on your dynamics, and that he was actually okay with people not seeing the changes in the way you treated him as long as he was able to feel them.

After all, he was the one who almost got kissed by you when no one else was around.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @broken-glowsticks

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luveline · 9 months ago

Note

I was just rereading your marauders sex shop blurb. I love how the boys have just adopted reader into their group, and how open they are with their affection for her. You do such a wonderful job of writing intimacy that rides the line between platonic and romantic. And I love the readers inter monologue of wondering if that intimacy means something more romantic like she wishes. It’s wonderful! I was also wondering if there’s a blurb on how the boys met reader for the first time?

thank you so much, that’s so nice of you <3 there wasn’t one but I hope this is okay!! —Remus, Sirius and James move into their new flat. You’re helpful. fem, 1k

The stairwell is filled with the sounds of kissing. Remus frowns, heart beating quickly, arms aching under the weight of yet another box. He gets to the top of the stairs and peeks around the box’s sides.

Sitting on the step of their new doorway is James. And, sitting on top of James, stroking his cheek, is Sirius. His hair is falling all over the place and they’re kissing so much Remus assumes they’ll have bruised noses. They often turn their kisses into a fight, like one of them can win, though it never really ends that way. He wants to laugh as Sirius pushes James down for more kissing, and he sort of wants to watch regardless because they’re both good kissers and he’d quite like to be included, but mostly he needs the heavy box put away.

“Someone please help me,” Remus says.

James breaks away. Sirius squeezes his face and begins to kiss his neck.

“Baby,” James says as he pushes him away, which is funny, unlike him and unlike Sirius to be called it, but also not actually unlike either of them when Remus really thinks about it.

Sirius gives a last peck and pulls away. When he gets up to look at Remus properly he’s flushed all over from the activity, his neck and face turning red in splotches.

Sirius and James have spent a lot of time spoiling Remus into love. He would’ve ended up there regardless, but he’s used to being the centre of attention. It was nice to see them kissing, and he wishes he didn’t interrupt quickly, but neither party seems to begrudge him. Sirius stands up and James is a second behind him, taking the heavy box from Remus’ arms before it can topple to the floor.

“We’re on break,” James says with a grin. “Especially you.”

“We have to take the van back tonight, in case you forgot. There’s still half our stuff in there.”

“If we have to pay their fine, it’s fine,” James says, shifting the box against his chest. “I’d much rather pay the extra day than have us all hurt ourselves. How will we ever test the big bed if poor Remus can’t move?”

“Poor Remus,” Sirius says, taking Remus’ hand to play with his fingers.

This is pretty much everything Remus has ever wanted. To get to keep his two best friends forever, to be in love, to live together in a new city with good food and better cinemas. And here, nobody knows them. Nobody to judge them or give them strange looks. They can just be together like they’ve always wanted to be.

Remus leans down to put his face against Sirius’ chest, their hands still held, Sirius’ free arm wrapping around him loosely.

“Tired?” Sirius asks.

James reluctantly leaves for the kitchen to put down their heavy box.

“No. We really need to empty the van.”

“We will.” Sirius drops his nose against Remus’ hair. “Cliche if I kiss you?”

“I like cliches.”

Sirius puts his lips to Remus temple. Barely a kiss, no movement nor sound, but Remus knows it counts. It’s about intention.

“Would you like a rough one?” Sirius asks quietly.

“Maybe later.”

“Please, let me give you one,” he says.

“And have you press me into the floor? I don’t think so.”

Sirius tips Remus’ head up and presses a kiss to Remus’ Cupid’s bow in an act of lifting his face, and then presses an equally gentle kiss to his lips. All this kissing…

“I’m so happy we’ve moved,” Remus admits.

Sirius squeezes his fingers, pulling away to meet charmed eyes. “All we need to do is find James a new team, and it’s perfect. Everything, finally.”

“Hello?” someone calls.

Sirius and Remus keep their hands held and shuffle across the hall to look down at the square. The flat building is strange, big and with an interior that’s an exterior, and you stand on the grass with a smile.

“Hi!” you say, hands on your hips. You’re dressed for the strange weather, jeans and a t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie, entirely non-assuming. “Are you guys moving in?”

“We are!” Remus says back. “You live here?”

“My friend, I came to make sure her cat was okay, she’s gone to Ibiza. Do you need help?”

“Oh, no, we couldn’t ask you to!” Remus says.

“Sure you can!”

You smile, and Remus thinks you look really lovely when you smile, it changes everything about your face. He feels guilty for the thought quickly, but it’s not as though being in a relationship means he can’t tell when girls are pretty.

“Are you busy?” Sirius asks.

You grin and make for the metal stairs up to the flat.

Remus peeks at him in surprise, then suspicion, but Sirius only smiles at him. “We’re making friends already,” Sirius says, giving him a nudge. “That’s what we wanted.”

James returns, having taken off his hoodie, a brown t-shirt loose on his frame. His own, then, because he insists on stealing from everybody’s wardrobes and stretching out their clothes.

“Why are you guys shouting?”

“Nice girl’s gonna come help us move.”

James raises his eyebrows.

‘Nice girl’ makes her way up the stairs. You’re still grinning when you get to the top, unperturbed by the appearance of another boy. “Hi,” you say, holding out your hand for an introduction. “I’m Y/N.”

It’s the start of a long road. Remus shakes your hand and gets the sort of butterflies he’s terrified of now, though eventually Sirius and James will admit to the exact same thing, and no one will know what to do about it.

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v1sexual · 3 months ago

Note

another actor au where reader gets injured on set and ofc the others being worried af ☹️ (vi and caitlyn being the most worried 🫶)

sticks and stones ; caitvi x reader

note : omg my first ask yay! anyways, i just wanted to say how much i love this omg. just imagine, caitvi fussing over you, giving you the princess treatment *explodes* this is lowkey poorly written tho, it's my first time writing with two love interests. i mean i could have made it platonic but where's the fun in that.

content warning : blood, minor injuries, swearing,

“cut! get the medics in here right now!”

you had no idea how this happened. a second ago, you were literally in the middle of acting a scene out with ekko in the firelight hideout. next thing you know, you twisted an ankle and fell 10-15 feet to the ground. thankfully, the leaves and branches from the tree (of the firelight hideout) broke your fall, leaving you with a few scrapes, bruises, and possibly a broken ankle.

when vi saw your body hit the cold hard floor she bolted, shouting for someone to get any medical professionals on the set. it took cait a couple of seconds to register what just happened, when it finally dawned on her she immediately followed vi. if people didn’t take notice that something was going on between the three of you, well… they’d probably notice it now. vi kneeled beside you, her hands cupped your cheek gently as she checked your head for any injury. thankfully, you only had a couple of cuts on your cheek and nothing too serious (you also may or may not have a small bump on your head that can be taken care of with some nice cold compress).

“is she okay?” cait exclaimed, she was out of breath and was ready to dial 911. before vi could answer, the medical team finally arrived. they ushered cait, vi, and your cast mates away as they loaded you on the stretcher and into the make-shift clinic tent on set.

it’s been almost an hour since vi and cait camped out of the tent. the two were practically about to explode, they were just so worried about you. the fact that it’s been an hour and still no news about you and how you’re doing concerns them. when the doctor examining you finally exited the tent (and quite literally almost bumped into them), they wasted no time bombarding the doctor about your condition.

“she’s doing fine ladies,” the doctor smiled. “just a couple of scratches, a bruise here and there, and a sprained ankle.”

vi’s face fell and cait was practically chewing nails.

“how long will it take for her to recover?’ cait asked worriedly.

the doctor gave her shoulder a pat, “it’ll take two to three weeks for the ankle to heal. then another week for her to get used to walking on it again.”

“how should we treat the ankle? does it need cold or hard compress?” vi demanded, poor girl was stressing the fuck out.

“use a cold compress for a week or until the swelling has gone down, then hot compress to help with blood flow. elevating the sprained ankle helps minimize the pain as well.” the doctor added before heading out, leaving the two girls to enter the tent.

watching the scene unfold was ekko and powder. they hung out beside a food truck next to the medical tent, fully overhearing the conversation that just unfold. “i sure hope (name)’s doing alright.” powder murmured, resting her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. ekko nodded in response, “i sure hope so. i imagine dealing with those too will be much more painful than dealing with the sprain.”

powder let’s out a laugh and shook her head. “ekko! that’s so mean.”

“it’s true though,” ekko shrugged then rested his head on powder’s. “i swear, those three have a weird relationship.’

“we listen, we don’t judge ekko.”

when the doctor left the tent to give you some privacy, you almost burst into tears. the cuts didn’t hurt, the bruises didn’t hurt, and the sprain was bearable. it’s the fact that filming will have to be pushed back a bit due to your sprain. you wouldn’t be able to stand on that foot at all until it heals, the doctor already made a note that you need at least a month and a half to fully recover. the director and producers weren’t pleased, but they did understand and didn’t want to push you since you are one of the most hardworking actors on set.

the tent flap rustled open, pulling you away from your thoughts. caitlyn and vi entered the tent, both had worried looks on their faces. they sat on opposite sides of the stretcher where you laid.

"how are you feeling?" cait asked, taking your hand and holding it. you sighed and shrugged. you didn't want to talk, especially to vi and caitlyn. you just know that the moment you open your mouth the dam will break, you already feel sorry for yourself and crying will make it worse.

"cupcake," vi said as she cupped your face in her hand. she tilted your head to look at her. "you know you can tell us anything right?"

you closed your eyes as you leaned into vi's touch, your hand gripping caitlyn's a little bit tighter. "i just- if i talk about it i'll cry and it'll make feel worse." your voice sounded so small and hurt, it made cait and vi's heart ache.

cait pressed a kiss to your hand, "if you don't want to talk we won't force you, but you need to let it all out eventually. bottling your feelings isn't healthy at all." vi nods in agreement, she squeezed your cheeks before bending down to press a kiss on your forehead. "if you need to cry, cry. you have our shoulders to cry on, cupcake."

you closed your eyes and let the tears fall.

caitlyn and vi stayed true to their words, they comforted you and stayed in the tent until they were kicked out by the producers. when you were finally alone, a smile adorned your lips. your girlfriends were right, letting it all out did make you feel ten times better.

after today's shooting was done, caitlyn and vi took you home. cait went ahead and started cooking dinner while vi carried you to your room, making sure your foot was elevated. for the next month and a half, they barely left your side (unless they were needed for filming). they never let you do anything, you were basically confined to your room. as much as you hated being useless, your protests were ignored by cait and vi. it didn't matter though, at least you're ankle is almost healed and being babied by your girlfriends felt good anyways.

note : well that sucked LMAOOOO sorry anon

#vi x reader #vi arcane x reader #arcane #arcane act three #vi arcane #jinx arcane #arcane smut #violet arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane season 2 #caitlyn arcane #caitvi #caitlyn x reader #vi x caitlyn #caitvi x reader #wlw yearning #wlw post #wlw x reader #wlw blog

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linddzz · 1 month ago

Note

PLEASE tell us more about Jayvik being unhealthy about each other, this needs to be talked about more for... scientific reasons (borderline toxic codependency my beloved)

They're honestly such a fun mix of being adorable silly little nerds who could have so many cute domestic scenes, but there is ALSO that Weird About Each Other vibe lurking over them like a sword of codependent damocles, and it's why I'm SO GLAD I waited to see how Season2 played out before I started writing fic with the intent to post it. Romantic, platonic, the shit they do for/because of each other is WILD no matter what flavor their love takes. You see BITS of it in Season one from Jayce when he ousts Heimerdinger, which is done entirely because Jayce believes the Hexcore can save Viktor from his terminal illness and Heimerdinger is in the way of that. Remember that before Viktor gets his prognosis, Jayce was the one proposing Hextech be shut down due to Jinx stealing a gemstone.

There's nothing that has happened to make Jayce less likely to be concerned about the possible danger of Hextech, and the moment where he asks for Hextech to be suspended shows that he's more likely to believe Heimerdinger's cautions. BUT...that goes out the window with no hesitation when he believes it could save Viktor.

And that's the main thread of their devotion to each other, the willingness to put each other before anyone and anything else, including each others wishes. Jayce is at first the most obvious one when he jumps right to breaking his promise to destroy the hexcore so he can save Viktor's life with it. Yeah, he didn't know that it killed Sky at this point, so the betrayal does not seem as dire to him as it would to Viktor at this point, BUT...considering everything else they do, I think knowing about Sky would maybe add like...thirty seconds to Jayce's decision making process. Shooting Viktor isn't just an act to save the world, though that does weigh on him. It's part of saving Viktor from himself, and only done because VIKTOR told him to. It, at first, seems like Jayce is the one with this more unhealthy devotion, where he's willing to put Viktor above everything else, including Viktor's wishes. Viktor is the one who leaves with the goal to pursue ways to actually help people, after all. He is, in that moment, able to put their dream over Jayce. BUT...this moment is Viktor's version of Jayce asking for hextech to be suspended. The snapping point for Jayce was the threat of Viktor dying, remember. (Also Viktor is ready to take Jayce back the SECOND Jayce shows back up. I would bet good money that a solid six-ish months of hearing NOTHING from Jayce spooked him right out of that assertion that their paths had fully diverged lmao) Then we get that phenomenal reveal that Viktor is knowingly dooming timelines, knowingly setting them on a path towards calamity and mutually assured destruction again and again, all with the goal of stopping himself from ending Jayce in a way that keeps their fates connected. Even if that means risking Jayce getting destroyed by him again and again when it doesn't work. And yaknow. Great story. EXCELLENT Literary Romance right there. Definitely not aspirational for real life in the slightest lmaooo

#arcane #jayvik #jayvik meta

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domjaehyun · 2 months ago

Text

the need to know (l.dh) — part three

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, part three has 7.9k SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. tada!! here’s the third and final part! it’s a lot shorter than the other two because logically it made sense to split them up like this 😁 i hope you enjoy!! your positive feedback is always appreciated 💖 thank you for reading!!

READ PART ONE HERE. — READ PART TWO HERE.

Later in the week, you’re lying cozy on the couch, scrolling through Twitter, when you’re suddenly reminded that you and your friends had plans for later today. You switch over to your Messages group chat and shoot off a quick text to put out feelers to see if everyone’s still free.

you [15:02pm] hii y’all are we still on for pottery today? chuu chuu train [15:03pm] um….. no actually 😟 i got called in for a shift at the hospital last minute mark [15:07pm] this girl at my job asked me to get drinks with her… she’s really cute… jeno [15:10pm] go get her mark 😎 i have a new client today and this was the only time she had free for her consultation :/ jaemin [15:12pm] i’m technically still free but like . kinda think i’m coming down with something you [15:14pm] sigh why must you all let me down like this 😞 renjun [15:16pm] why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out you disliked “why are you all blowing up my phone 🤨 cut it out” you [15:17pm] okay cranky pants… you signed up to be friends with us chuu chuu train [15:19pm] yeah this gc isn’t called “the platonic polycule” for nothing!!! chuu chuu train [15:19pm] now can you make it to pottery today? renjun [15:17pm] no i can’t sorry 😕 like i’m free but i have a design for a site due by the end of tonight and i haven’t finished… you [15:20pm] brb entering the deepest of depressions

You knock three times on Jihyo’s door, waiting for her to reply before flinging her door open with a wail. “Jihyo, everyone’s bailing!”

“I saw,” she says sympathetically.

“Only ones going are you, me, and Haechan.” you lament, collapsing onto her bed.

“Well, if that’s the case,” she says thoughtfully, “I’m not going, either.”

“What?!” you exclaim, looking up at her with an incredulous expression.

“You think I want to sit there and third-wheel whatever it is you two have going on?” she chuckles, stroking your hair soothingly. “Take it as an opportunity to do more of… whatever you two call your arrangement.”

“You’re… well, I can’t decide if I want to thank you or hit you with a pillow.” you sigh dejectedly, and she chuckles understandingly.

you [15:30pm] haechan please say you’re going… jihyo just bailed (verbally) and now i’m all alone 😞 haechan [15:32pm] my schedule’s all free for you 😌 you loved “my schedule’s all free for you 😌” you [15:33pm] AND THAT IS HOW TO BE A RELIABLE FRIEND, EVERYONE. TAKE NOTES!!!! you [15:34pm] anyway that concludes this conversation. everyone but haechan is in the dog house until further notice. farewell

You lock your phone and look up at Jihyo with a small smile. “You’re not in the dog house.” you inform her, and she smiles, running her fingers through your hair.

“Thank you for that. Want help picking out your outfit for your little pottery date with Haechan?” she offers, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly.

“It’s not a date,” you stress, sitting up. “It’s two friends hanging out and making pottery together.”

“Okay, do you want help picking out an outfit to look super duper cute for your date that’s totally not a date?” she amends with a sly grin, and you scowl, deciding to hit her with a pillow after all. “Hey!”

“That’s for teasing me.” you huff, setting the pillow back down. “But yes, I would like help.”

“Expecting help after you assaulted me is beyond crazy, by the way.”

“Please?” you plead, giving her your best puppy dog eyes, and she sighs in defeat, closing her laptop and flinging her covers off her legs.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

“Are you nervous?” you ask as you two walk up to the building your pottery class is in, and Haechan shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Of course not,” he replies confidently. “I’m good with my hands; you should know that.”

“I don’t think this activity requires the exact same skill set as the one you’re talking about, but okay.” you say with an amused expression, and he shrugs.

“I’m a fast learner.”

As it turns out, Haechan is not, in fact, as fast of a learner as he thought he was.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him struggle to make a decent looking pinch pot. “I thought you were good with your hands?” you tease as you smooth out the thumbprints in your own surprisingly pretty pinch pot, and he frowns in your direction.

“Apparently, my hands’ skills are best applied elsewhere.” he huffs, much to your amusement.

“Evidently,” you remark, smiling to yourself. “Do you want help?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“No… I’m hoping I have better luck when we start using the wheel.” he answers, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Okay… well, good luck with that.” you say, returning your attention to your work as you diligently make the rim of the bowl even and level.

After some time, you’re all instructed to switch to throwing on the wheel, and you’re surprised to find that it comes naturally to you, your hands sculpting a lovely bowl with a wide mouth.

“Haechan, are you sure you don’t need help?” you offer again as you see him accidentally dig his thumb into his pot too harshly, resulting in an uneven, deep dent going around half of the bowl.

“Maybe a little assistance would be nice,” he admits in defeat, and you smile, turning off your wheel and coming to stand behind him.

“I’m gonna show you how to do it, okay?” you say softly, taking his clay covered hands in your own and guiding them to the clay on his wheel. “Wanna start over?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, pouting, and you nod, moving to sit behind him. You rest your chin on his shoulder as you guide his hands through reverting his misshapen bowl into an even mound of clay.

“Wet your hands a little bit,” you explain, gesturing to the bowl of grayish water beside his wheel. “It’ll help you manipulate the clay better.” He dips his hands in the water, shaking them off slightly before returning his hands to the clay, tentatively placing his hands on either side of the clay.

“Spread it out like this,” you say gently, showing him how to use his thumbs to carefully widen the surface area of the clay. “Keep your palms close like a guide for how wide you want it to get.”

“Mhm,” he hums distractedly, brows furrowed in concentration, and you help him shape the base of the bowl he’s making, forming a sort of stout cylinder of clay.

“Good,” you encourage him, and he cracks a shy smile at the compliment, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Pay attention to what you’re doing.”

He sighs loudly, momentarily attracting the attention of some other students, but he relents, turning his head back to focus on his bowl.

“Next, you’re gonna make a small dent with your thumb in the center of the clay, and we’re gonna slowly drag the dent outwards with our thumbs to deepen and open up the mouth of the bowl.” you say next, and he nods, tongue poking out slightly as he tries to do what you’re asking him to do. “Carefully,” you remind him, guiding his thumbs as he methodically opens up the dent he made, his bowl now looking much better than before.

“Hey, it’s working!” he says excitedly, and you smile fondly, nodding. You hesitate before your next action, but decide to follow through with it anyway, turning your face in towards him to peck him gently on the cheek. He takes his hands off the wheel abruptly, turning his face towards yours as he searches your eyes with curiosity. “You kissed me.”

“I did,” you confirm, wishing he wouldn’t make such a big deal of it.

“What was that for?” he asks curiously, and you give a small shrug.

“A reward for doing a good job? And incentive to keep doing a good job.”

“So… if I make a pretty bowl, I can get another kiss?”

“Perhaps.”

“On the lips?”

“Don’t push it.” you say, rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

“Fine,” he relents, pouting slightly. “Hey, have you seen that movie, Ghost?”

“With Jennifer Love Hewitt?” you ask, and he nods. “I haven’t, but I’m pretty sure I know where you’re going with this.”

“The pottery scene?” he questions, testing you, and you nod with a smile. “Can we?”

You pause, thinking about it, before you nod. “Sure.”

He bounces in his seat excitedly before he refocuses his attention on his bowl, practically vibrating with excitement as your hands close in over his.

Wordlessly, you help him shape his bowl, deepening the inside and lengthening the body. Your hands glide together smoothly and you’re so focused on doing a good job that it takes you ages to realize that Haechan isn’t even looking at the bowl anymore, his gaze now focused entirely on you with a mix of wonder and fascination on his face.

“Please pay attention before you distract me too and we fuck this bowl up.” you say with a small, amused smile, and he shakes his head.

“I think I need more incentive.” he states, and you look at him with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Just say you want me to kiss you again.”

“Okay, I want you to kiss me again.”

“No. Focus on the bowl.”

“What?! You just told me to say I want another kiss.” he complains, frowning.

“I didn’t say I was going to give you one. I just wanted you to be upfront about what you want.”

“I want a kiss,” he says, stubbornness creeping into his voice, and you sigh.

“If I give you a kiss, will you focus?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he agrees, nodding to seal his promise, and you purse your lips thoughtfully as you think it over.

“Okay.” you say finally, and he beams at you before removing his hands from the wheel entirely and turning in his seat to face you. You lean in, Haechan moving with you, and connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

He hums, pleased, and moves to cup your cheek before you grab his wrist and set it down on his lap.

“You have clay all over your hands, and I don’t think that’d look too good on my face.” you murmur against his lips as you two part, and he laughs, the sound surprisingly sheepish for him.

“Sorry, I forgot.” he chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Thanks for the kiss, baby.”

“You’re welcome. You think we can finish the bowl now?”

“I think your kiss gave me enough strength to push through and finish strong.” he remarks with a cheeky grin, and you snort.

“That is so dramatic. You’re lucky you’re cute.” you huff, and he beams at you.

“Sure am.”

By the time you two make it back to your front door, the sun is starting to set, streaks of orange, gold, and a beautiful shade of rose filtering in through the window in your hallway.

“I had a really fun time today,” Haechan says, looping his pinky around yours and swinging your hands back and forth.

“Me too,” you agree, smiling. “Are you gonna tell me what you painted at the bottom of your bowl now?”

“Nope,” he replies with a grin. When you pout, he coos fondly, mirroring your expression. “You’ll see when they’re finished and we go to pick them up.”

“Fine,” you huff. “Hey, do you… maybe want to come in? Jihyo and Jiwoo are still out.” you ask, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he admits with a sheepish grin, and a relieved smile overtakes your face as you unlock your front door and lead him inside.

“So, you’re telling me you’re not even the slightest bit curious what a parallel universe might look like for you?” you ask incredulously.

“Oh, I’m definitely curious,” he replies. “I just can’t imagine wanting to live in that reality.”

“Really? What if in your parallel universe you were a hot shot musician?”

“Still no.”

“You’re insane,” you gasp, and he chuckles softly, the look in his eyes incredibly raw and vulnerable, and you find yourself scrambling over your words in an attempt to protect the quivering heart Haechan’s presenting to you in his gaze. “Well—why this universe, hm? Why, out of all the universes you could be a part of, do you want this one?”

“I wouldn’t want to live in a parallel universe,” Haechan says slowly, “if it means I might not meet you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the gravity of his words weighing heavy in your heart, and now you think you understand the look he was giving you earlier. “Do you mean that?” you ask softly, and he nods, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek.

“Every word, pretty.” he confirms, and you’re grateful you’re sitting down because you would have visibly swooned otherwise.

“Jeez, Haechan, are you trying to woo me?” you joke softly, and he tilts your chin up with one finger, turning your head to face him.

“Mm, depends,” he sighs, brushing his lips against yours with a hint of a smile. “Is it working?”

“Not gonna lie? Yeah,” you murmur, smiling bashfully when he chuckles.

“Good,” he chuckles, kissing you softly. Like the others, this kiss ensnares your mind and body, but there’s a tenderness, a hesitance you don’t see from Haechan often. He molds his lips with yours slowly and sweetly, chasing after you when you pull back slightly for air before breaking the kiss and nuzzling your nose with his. “Hi,” he says softly, smiling shyly.

“Hi,” you giggle, kissing his nose lightly. He beams at you and leans in for another kiss, his hand gently resting on your knee. As you two kiss, his hand moves up gradually, pushing up the hem of your sundress until it’s bunched up your thigh just before your underwear.

His kisses grow in passion, in need, until he’s greedily kissing you as you run out of air and have to break the kiss with a gasp. “Let me kiss you,” he whines, clutching at your thigh as he leans in again.

“Let me breathe for a second,” you laugh, and he chuckles quietly.

“Sorry. You done breathing yet?” he asks, and you snort, bursting out into laughter. He joins you, tickled by your amusement, and when you manage to control yourselves, he sighs happily. “So—”

“Yes, I’m done breathing.” you say with a small roll of your eyes and a smile, and he grins, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he wonders, and you shake your head. “I’m an idiot, then,” he continues, “because you look stunning.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, and he nods firmly.

“This little white and pink number you have on,” he murmurs, tugging at the strap on your shoulder until it slips off, “is driving me crazy.”

“Is it, now?” you hum, goading him on, and he nods again.

“It matches your cute little bow.” he points out, and you smile, pleased.

“It does,” you confirm, and he smiles before kissing you again. “You know what else it matches?”

“Mm, what, baby?” he mumbles against your lips.

“My underwear.” you answer, and he stills, looking at you with wonder and desire in his eyes.

“You’re joking,” he breathes, and you shake your head, smiling. “Let me see?” It’s phrased like a question, but it’s anything but if the way Haechan is already lifting your dress is any indication. “Please?” he adds almost as an afterthought, and you giggle, allowing him to pull your dress up enough to see your baby pink underwear. “Fuck,” he groans, his head falling into your lap, and you laugh as he presses his face between your legs, quickly maneuvering himself so your thighs are on either side of his body. He presses a loud kiss to the front of your underwear, then another slightly lower, and when his lips graze your clit through the fabric, you jolt, and he smiles. “You liked that?”

“A little,” you fib, and he nods in smug confirmation, leaning back down to press another kiss to the fabric over the seat of your underwear where a damp spot is gradually forming.

“A little?” he echoes skeptically. “This doesn’t feel like a little.” he points out as his lips brush against your dampened underwear.

“Don’t get cocky,” you breathe, tugging on his hair as a warning.

“You make it so hard not to, baby,” he coos, trailing one finger up your slit through the underwear and around your clit in circles as you squirm slightly and keen for his touch. “Look how well you react to me, pretty girl—you expect that not to make my head a little big?”

“Whatever,” you huff, frowning petulantly. “Just stop teasing.”

“What is it you want me to do?” he asks innocently, and you roll your eyes.

“Same thing you wanna do.” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I want to taste your pretty pussy,” he says slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole while. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you agree instantly, and he smiles. “What now?”

“Say it,” he urges softly, lifting himself up to bring his lips to yours. “I want you to say it.”

“Haechan, please don’t tease me,” you plead, and he shakes his head.

“Wanna know how bad you want it.” he replies, and you sigh loudly.

“I want you to… do that.” you mumble, and he shakes his head with a growing smile.

“Do what?”

“Haechan!”

“Baby, say it and I’ll make your eyes roll back, I swear,” he says seriously. “I just want you to say it.”

“I want you to… go down on me.” you murmur shyly, and he beams, returning his head to between your legs.

“Now was that so hard?” he asks, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Yes, actually.”

“Aw, poor baby,” he teases, his words almost distracting you from the way his fingers tug your underwear aside. “You’ll live,” he assures you before leaning in to kiss you right on the clit. You jolt at the sudden sensation, moving away from him, but he loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you back to his face, tongue stroking against your folds before delving in between them. His nose bumps your clit with every lewd wet glide of his tongue along your core, and your breath catches every time, your body wired with desire and anticipation as he messily but expertly devours you.

“Feels good,” you whine breathlessly, and you can feel him smile against your core.

“I know, baby, you’re so wet,” he purrs, sucking on your clit with a groan and a loud, wet pop as he pulls back. “Am I that good, or do you just like me that much?”

You don’t know what comes over you, especially given that Haechan gave you an easy out, but you moan out, “I like you,” heat warming your cheeks as you realize what you just said.

“Yeah, baby? You like me?” he echoes, pressing two fingers against your entrance. “How much?”

“So much, Haechan, like you so much,” you gasp, wanting nothing more than for him to continue, and he moans in delight before doing just that, fingers pushing into you greedily before he litters kisses all over your inner thighs and drags his tongue in wet stripes up your thigh to your core.

“Like you too, baby, so fucking much,” he grunts, pumping his fingers inside of you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. “Tastes so good, baby, pussy tastes so good—”

“Haechan—”

“Let me make you cum, baby, I wanna make you cum,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you to fuck into your g-spot. “Please cum for me, please, please, please—” His lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking and kissing and tongue flicking and swirling around the sensitive button, and his throaty pleas for your release send vibrations through your clit, your body electrified with jolts of pleasure.

“Gonna—you’re gonna make me cum, Haechan—” you whimper breathlessly, and he links the fingers of his free hand with yours as he looks up at you, watching in wonder as you start to fall apart. His tongue works against you fervently, lapping up every bit of arousal that gushes from your entrance around his fingers, and your back arches off the bed, your abdomen tensing as your peak hits. Pleasure shoots through you like a dose of adrenaline, your stomach coiling in on itself as the aftershocks of your climax start to appear.

Haechan moves with you every bit of the way, craning his neck upwards to keep licking at your core, desperate for every drop of pleasure he can get from you. Your hips drop to the bed, your body feeling spent as he languidly swirls his tongue around your clit and his fingers inside of you.

“Felt good, baby?” he asks throatily, and you nod with a blissed out smile.

“Felt amazing.” you assure him, and he beams up at you, your cum glistening on his chin.

He crawls up your body to kiss you, quickly deepening the kiss as he reaches to open his pants. You reach your hand inside his boxers when he’s finished, wrapping your hand around his base and starting to stroke him up and down. He groans and lowers his head to kiss down your neck and when he gets to your collarbone, he nips at the thin flesh there, making you hiss in pleasure.

“Need you inside,” you moan, and he nods eagerly, pushing his boxers down and out of the way as his length emerges from its confines.

Without further ado, you bring the head of his shaft to your entrance, pushing it in as far as you can manage, and he whimpers with pleasure, breathing in loudly through his nose.

“Feels good?” you coo against his lips, and he nods vigorously, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Feels so fucking good, baby, you have no idea—your pussy drives me crazy.” he grunts before thrusting in more. “Need more, baby, I need it so bad—” he rasps out, and you nod encouragingly, pulling him closer to you.

“Take it, Haechan, it’s yours,” you assure him, and his eyes roll back into his head in bliss before he’s kissing you again, lips molding with yours feverishly as he thrusts into you until he’s bottomed out fully. “So full,” you moan, and he grins distractedly, brows still furrowed as he moves in and out of you in slow, fluid strokes.

“Love filling my baby up,” he coos as his hips settle into the rhythm he’s set for himself. “Pretty baby’s pussy loves sucking my cock in, doesn’t it?”

“Mm—love it, Haechan, feels so good—”

This time around feels… different. Not bad-different at all, just… intimate. There’s the possessiveness from that night at the hotel in Fire Island, then there’s this, a heady blend of devotion and belonging to each other and you just about lose your mind as his length twitches inside of you.

“Gonna fill you up, baby, gonna make you all mine,” he pants, and you nod with a whimper, reaching for him for another kiss which he reciprocates eagerly. As you kiss him, his length throbs inside of you, pulsing with need, and you can tell he’s close. “Want to cum, baby, but I want you to cum with me.”

You reach between your bodies and start to rub at your clit rapidly, free hand clutching your clothed breast as your whines and cries escalate in volume. His lips find their way to your neck and you just about pass out from all the pleasure, a deep shudder traveling through you when his mouth seeks purchase behind your ear, tongue trailing up and down the small crevice.

Your climaxes come right around the same time; Haechan’s starts first, but yours comes in with all the force of a wildfire, burning through everything in its path. Gasps and moans and the sounds of the sheets rustling are all you can hear as you two ride out your highs, and your eyes screw shut, white stars twinkling and flooding your vision as you rock down onto him to milk your climaxes for all they’re worth.

When you’re both fully depleted of energy, he pulls out of you and lies down beside you, both of you breathing loudly. After a moment of rest, Haechan gets up and heads out of the room, returning shortly after with a damp cloth which he uses to wipe you down.

“Thanks,” you sigh sleepily, and he nods with a smile, cupping your chin and kissing you sweetly.

“It’s getting late,” he sighs. “I should probably get going.”

“Wh—well, why?” you ask with a frown, and he smiles sadly.

“I have a lot of coding to do tomorrow.” he explains, and you nod slowly, carefully thinking over your next words.

“Do you wanna just… spend the night here?” you ask tentatively, and he looks over at you, hope alight in his eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean,” you start to say, stumbling over your words slightly. “I feel like it’s late—”

“So late.” he agrees.

“And Ubers are probably expensive back to your place right now—”

“Don’t even get me started on the surge pricing.”

“Right! So, I mean, financially, it just makes sense for you… to stay… here… with me.” you finish, and he looks you over slowly with a budding grin on his face.

“I think that’s clearly the most economically sound decision.” he agrees, and you smile, relieved.

“Great. Now come back here.” you say, patting the spot next to you, and he obliges eagerly, climbing onto the bed and snuggling up to you. “Y’know, we’ve broken, like, all the rules basically.” you mumble, and he scoffs dismissively.

“Maybe those rules are outdated and stupid.”

“I mean, we did put them in place for a reason,” you sigh, and he lifts his head up to look at you skeptically. “But, I mean, maybe they don’t really apply to our scenario anymore…”

“Exactly.” he replies with a hint of smugness in his tone. “So cuddle me and go to sleep.”

And so you do just that, wondering all the while how Haechan might define your scenario now.

When you wake up in the morning, Haechan is hugging you to his chest, your legs tangled together. You peek up at him, smiling at his puffy lips slightly parted as he breathes softly.

“Haechan?” you say softly, and his nose wrinkles slightly before it relaxes, the male not stirring. “Haechan,” you hum gently, and he scrunches his eyes closed before he barely opens them to look at you. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, and he breathes in deeply before nodding. “Want me to make, like, pancakes or something?”

“Please?” he rasps, and your core tingles with need at his low voice.

“Okay,” you whisper, moving to untangle yourself from him. He groans in protest, clutching you tighter, and you chuckle lightly. “I can’t make the pancakes from the bed,” you remind him, and he frowns before loosening his grip on you, allowing you to extract yourself from his arms.

You climb out of the bed, grabbing some clothes to wear around the house and going to the bathroom to wash up. When you’re done, you make your way to the kitchen and start setting up to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon as a treat.

You’re letting the pan warm up on the stove as you mix the batter when Haechan emerges from the hallway, sleepily shuffling towards you.

“I have so much work to do today,” he groans, sitting down at the kitchen island and putting his head down.

“Aw, poor Haechan.” you coo sympathetically, and your soft tone is enough to evoke the whininess from him that you knew was waiting to come out.

“I don’t wanna,” he complains, and you nod understandingly.

“I bet.” you sigh, pouring the first pancake into the pan. The sizzle starts slow and builds gradually as the batter cooks, and you turn to face Haechan, walking around the kitchen island and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek on his back. You feel him relax in your embrace, Haechan turning around to face you so he can hold your waist and press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re the best.” he mumbles against your forehead. He pulls back slightly to look at you, something tender in his eyes that you haven’t seen before to this extent. It thrills you and yet, something in you is holding back, waiting for the bad news to hit.

Sure enough, a moment later, a dopey smile crosses his features and he parts his lips to speak, the words “I l—” barely making it out before he snaps his mouth shut with a look of alarm, provoking you to raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“You l—” you prompt him, and he shakes his head, extracting himself from you.

“I should, um, go get started on my codes for my boss.” he mutters, that same hint of panic weighing on his every action as he starts to walk towards your room, turns back to face you, then shakes his head and finally heads to your room.

“What the hell was that?” you wonder aloud, hurt and confused, but you don’t have much time to deliberate, because he’s entering the kitchen once more, now looking significantly more awake and, more importantly, ready to leave. “Oh, you’re leaving?” you reply, even more confusion swimming in your head.

“Yeah, I, um, I have to get a head start on my work if I don’t want to be up all night,” he mumbles with a chuckle, and the hollowness of it makes your heart ache.

“Haechan, did I do something?” you ask carefully, trying not to sound as wounded as you feel.

“No,” he’s quick—perhaps too quick—to say, shaking his head vehemently. “I just really have to go.” he insists, heading to your front door without a single look back.

When your door shuts, you stand there, contemplating what just happened and what could have gone so wrong that it made Haechan up and leave like that. You flip the pancake in the pan over half-heartedly, observing the golden brown cooked side before your vision clouds with unshed tears.

“Fuck,” you mutter, wiping your eyes. You hear footsteps heading towards the kitchen from what sounds like Jihyo’s room, and sure enough, she steps into the kitchen, regarding you curiously.

“Hey,” she says carefully, watching you with increasing concern as you try and fail not to cry. “You okay?”

“Want pancakes?” you ask, your voice cracking on the last syllable, and she rushes over to you, pulling you into a tight, warm hug as you break down quietly in her arms.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she soothes you, rubbing your back in comforting motions. “What happened?”

You sniffle pathetically as you start to tearfully explain everything that went down, from last night to this very strange morning, and Jihyo listens intently, her brows furrowing in sympathy as your bottom lip trembles when you get to recounting the activities of this morning.

“Wow,” she finally says. “Okay, get dressed. No more sad pancakes. We’re gonna get brunch, my treat, and we’re gonna talk this out until you feel better.” she urges, patting your butt lightly to push you forward.

“Okay,” you say sadly, heading to your room to get dressed.

“So,” Jihyo says as she stirs her coffee. “How long has this been going on?”

You take a break from listlessly poking at your crepes and think back. “About two weeks,” you answer, and she raises her eyebrows.

“It took two weeks for this whole thing to get this off-track?” she asks, surprised, and you nod. “You definitely have feelings for each other.”

“I mean, I have feelings for him,” you explain. “I don’t know if it’s reciprocated.”

She shoots you a blank look over her coffee mug as she takes a tentative sip. “My love?”

“Hm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

You sigh. “What is it?”

“You sound like an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“You do! You two made rules, he broke virtually every last one of them, and you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?” she exclaims in disbelief.

“Well, he said he wanted it to be casual.” you defend yourself petulantly, and she rolls her eyes.

“Is it casual now?”

“Well, no…”

“And whose fault is that?”

“...Mine?” you ask, and she tsks in disapproval.

“No. Well, slightly, because you allowed it, but Haechan is the one who made things complicated! Sure, he said he wanted it to be casual, but he’s being anything but. He’s walking around acting like your straight-up boyfriend, and you can’t tell if he likes you or not?” she says incredulously, and you pause, thinking over her words.

“Well, then, why would he say he wanted to keep things casual?” you huff, frowning.

“One of two reasons: he might have thought you weren’t interested in dating him and just wanted to be with you in any way he can get.” she explains, and you nod thoughtfully.

“And the other reason?”

“Well, sometimes guys say they don’t want anything serious so they can use it as an excuse to fool around with other girls.” she says honestly, and you blink several times before speaking next.

“You think he’s fooling around with other girls?” you ask worriedly, and she stares at you blankly.

“That should not have been the only takeaway you got from what I just said.”

“Oh, sorry.” you mumble, sipping at your iced coffee.

“Look, can I be honest with you?” Jihyo asks, continuing on before you can answer to say, “Great; I feel like you already liked him before this happened, he definitely liked you too, and now you’re conflicted because of feelings that were present before this was set in motion.”

You think over her words once more before saying, “So, you don’t think he’s fucking around with other girls?”

Sighing loudly, Jihyo pinches the bridge of her nose. “You are about as stubborn as a mule, you know that?”

“Yes,” you reply with a doleful look. “It’s one of my specialties.”

“Does Jiwoo know about all of this?” she asks, and you shake your head.

“I haven’t told her anything, so I don’t think so.” you sigh, and she screws her face up in thought.

“Maybe we should consult her and see what she thinks.” she suggests helpfully, and you shrug. “Now, I’m not sure if you know this, but the crepes are supposed to make you feel better… but you have to actually eat them to feel the benefits.”

You smile sheepishly and separate a forkful, placing the now-room temperature food in your mouth and chewing. A small smile starts to grow on your face, and she smiles, pleased.

“Now, I want you to think about this carefully; like, do you really want to do this?” Jihyo asks, and you shrug.

“I want things to stay the way they were before this morning.” you lament.

Jihyo raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to be his girlfriend?”

“Oh! Oh, I do. I very much do, yes.” you say, nodding emphatically, and she smiles fondly.

“Then I think we should see what Jiwoo says. She’ll probably agree with me because, well… I’m right.”

“Says you,” you mumble under your breath, and she raises a challenging eyebrow.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Thought so.”

“I think you always liked him,” Jiwoo says. “Like, I could tell from a mile away; anyone could tell. It’s in the way you guys look at each other.”

“Wait, you guys really think he likes me back?” you ask, hopeful and bewildered.

“Yes, dummy, he likes you back.” Jiwoo says with a roll of her eyes.

“Well… that’s not enough!” you exclaim, and Jihyo and Jiwoo groan, exasperated. “I need him to say it!”

As if the heavens were listening, your phone lights up with an incoming call notification from none other than Haechan. “Oh, shit,” you mumble, staring at it blankly.

“Um, pick up?” Jihyo stresses, whacking your arm. “Girl, pick up!”

You snatch the phone up from the bed and answer it, calling, “Hello?” into the phone and waiting with bated breath.

“Speaker!” Jiwoo mouths, and Jihyo nods vigorously in agreement.

You put it on speaker in time for Haechan’s voice to filter through the phone. “Hey, are you home?”

“Yes, I am,” you answer casually, as if your last interaction didn’t literally reduce you to tears.

“Are Jihyo or Jiwoo home?” he asks, and all of you make the same confused expression at each other, looking at the phone in bewilderment.

“Say no!” Jihyo whispers, and you wave her off.

“They’re home,” you answer, and she throws her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Why?”

“Can you come outside for a second? I need to ask you something.”

“Y’know, Haechan, phone calls were invented so people could ask other people things.”

“I know, but I want to see you,” he stresses hopefully, and you look between Jihyo and Jiwoo, both of whom are nodding vigorously. “Please?”

“Okay,” you agree, and Jiwoo collapses on her back, Jihyo heaving a relieved sigh. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Great,” he says, abruptly ending the call.

“What if he wants to cut things off?” you worry aloud, and Jihyo grabs your shoulders, shaking them firmly.

“He’s not gonna cut things off. You’ll never know what he wants to do if you don’t go down there and talk to him.” she says sternly, and you blink at her petulantly.

“Fine,” you lament, getting up from the bed and trudging to the front door.

When you get downstairs, you can see Haechan waiting through the glass doors of your lobby entrance, and he perks up visibly when he sees you, a good indicator.

You step outside and look at Haechan, whose smile widens when you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi,” you say carefully, and his smile turns sheepish.

“Hi,” he says, and it dawns on you that he’s holding his hands behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” you ask curiously, and he smiles wider, presenting you with something wrapped in grayish brown craft paper. You take it and hold onto it, but Haechan frowns, making you let out a noise of confusion.

“Open it!” he urges, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness, obliging and opening the wrapping. There, in your hands, is the bowl you helped Haechan make; it’s been lightly glazed with your favorite shade of pink, and it looks prettier than it did when you two made it, somehow.

“Oh! Thank you,” you say with a smile, and he gestures for you to continue, making you let out yet another confused sound.

“Look at the bottom of the bowl.” he says excitedly, and you do just that, peering inside to see—

“Oh,” you gasp softly.

There, in Haechan’s handwriting, are the words “Be Mine?”

“That’s why I wouldn’t let you see when I was done painting.” he says, bashful now, and you smile widely, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Sorry I’ve been so weird and quiet today; I already liked you, but it hit me last night that I really like you, and this morning I realized that I might even love you.”

“Oh?” you say, smiling so widely it hurts.

“Yeah,” he confirms, nodding proudly. “I went to the pottery place and paid the instructor to bake mine early so I could bring it to you.”

“Oh, Haechan,” you say softly, your heart swelling in your chest until you fear it might burst.

“I know I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but I’m willing to try it if it means I get to be with you—properly this time.” he finishes, and you look up from the bowl to see a hopeful look on his face.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh, relieved, and Haechan visibly relaxes, a wide smile on his face. “I’ve liked you for ages, actually—like, long before we started this whole arrangement.”

“Me too,” he echoes shyly, and you step closer, throwing your arms around his neck for a tight hug. He wraps his arms around your waist and stays there, holding you tightly. You turn your face inwards to kiss him on the cheek, only for Haechan to look at you like you just slapped him in the face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, confused, and he huffs petulantly.

“I just professed my undying love for you and all I get is a kiss on the cheek?” he squawks, affronted, and you snicker.

“‘Undying love’ is a little crazy, Haechan,” you point out, and he glowers at you.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m a little crazy.” he counters, and you feign surprise.

“Wow… no way… I had no idea… I am just so shocked.” you drawl, and he narrows his eyes.

“Ha, ha, ha. Stop mocking me and put that mouth to better use,” he huffs, pulling you into him for a kiss. It’s deep and slow, Haechan kissing you like he has all the time in the world.

You hear familiar voices cheering, and you look around before looking up to see Jihyo and Jiwoo sticking their heads out of your window, watching you two with smiles on their faces.

“Didn’t know your roommates and our friends were Peeping Toms,” he jokes, and you giggle.

“Less talking, more kissing!” Jiwoo calls out.

“Mind your business, perverts!” you splutter indignantly.

“No, no, no, why don’t we do what the perverts say?” Haechan suggests with a grin, and kisses you before you can respond, breathing in deeply as he wraps his arms around you tighter.

As you stand on the street, kissing Haechan in front of your best friends, all you can do is smile.

“I don’t think I can eat anymore,” Jaemin groans, rubbing his stomach as you all trudge down the boardwalk. “When they call it a food truck crawl, they’re not kidding; I feel like I should be on my hands and knees right now.”

“You’re weak,” Renjun comments casually. “I’m fine.”

“No, but I really can’t.” Jaemin protests, and Jihyo chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“You said that three trucks ago.” she points out, and Jaemin frowns.

“Yeah, but I feel like I’m about to burst—” Jaemin bemoans before stopping short. When you all follow his gaze to a fried dough truck, you burst out laughing.

“What was that about you being about to burst?” you tease, and Jaemin makes a conflicted face, rubbing his stomach.

“Well… maybe I can make room for something sweet…” he mumbles, and you nod in understanding.

“You definitely can,” you encourage him, and he smiles before leading the way to the food truck.

“You’re a bad influence,” Mark laughs, and you shrug.

“He wanted it! I just let him know he could probably fit it in his stomach.”

“Yeah, leave my girl alone.” Haechan gripes, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you into his side.

“Yeah, leave his girl alone.” you huff, scrunching your nose at Mark, who rolls his eyes.

“You’re definitely more insufferable together,” he comments, and you smile, shrugging.

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, deal with it.” Haechan chuckles, kissing you on the cheek.

“Petition to make them break up?” Renjun proposes, and Jihyo reaches over to swat his arm. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” she counters. “I think they’re cute.”

“Why, thank you, Jihyo, my dear friend.” you sigh happily, resting your head on Haechan’s shoulder.

You’re finally at the food truck, and after the attendant takes your order, Haechan steps forward, tapping his phone to the card reader when it prompts him to pay.

“Haechan, baby, you’ve paid for all my food; the pretzel bits, the funnel cake, the loaded hot dogs, the ice cream—”

“I know—”

“The mozzarella sticks—”

“I want to!”

“The tater tots—”

“Baby.”

“And now the fried dough!” you finish off as if he’d never spoken, and he smiles fondly, cupping your face in his hands.

“You’re my girl, right?”

“Of course,” you reply, the words slightly distorted due to his hold on your face.

“That’s right. You’re my girl, so I got you.” he answers simply, and you feel heat rushing to your face.

“Fuck, why was that attractive?” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I’m glad you like it, because I’m not stopping any time soon.” he informs you. “Got it?”

“Got it.” you reply, and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good.” he says, releasing your face and taking your hand. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand, and you smile fondly, happier than ever.

“Hey, Haechan, if I bat my eyes all cute like her, can I get free food, too?” Renjun asks, and Haechan snorts.

“Good luck looking as good as she does when she does it.”

“Did you just call me ugly?!” Renjun splutters, and Haechan raises his hands defensively, your linked hand coming up with his involuntarily.

“No one said that. I just said you’re not gonna look as good to me as she does when she does it.” he replies calmly, and Renjun narrows his eyes at him.

“Tread carefully, Lee Haechan.” Renjun warns him.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “I’m so scared.”

“I’ll deglove you!” Renjun threatens, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll castrate you if you even think about it for too long.” you tell him.

Renjun frowns. “I hate when they’re on the same side, and now they’re gonna be on the same side forever!”

He stomps off to another food truck in the distance, and your friends, after receiving their orders, follow after him. You and Haechan fall to the back of the group, and Haechan hums thoughtfully, prompting you to turn your head to look at him.

“What is it?”

“I like the sound of that.” he muses, and you make a face.

“Surely we’re not talking about the castrating and degloving.”

“We most certainly are not.” Haechan assures you, and you relax. “The ‘forever’ part.” You promptly inhale so sharply that you choke on the bite of fried dough in your mouth, and Haechan rubs your back soothingly as you cough and hack and gasp for air. “You alright, baby?”

“I’m good,” you pant, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “Before I almost died just now, I was going to say that… I like the sound of ‘forever’ too.”

“With me?” he asks hopefully, and you roll your eyes.

“No, with Jeno.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Not funny.”

“Wasn’t laughing. Yes, with you, dummy.”

“I may be a dummy, but I’m your dummy. And you’re stuck with me. Forever.” he draws out the last word with a bright grin.

And as you lean in to kiss him, you murmur, “I definitely can live with that.”

and that’s the end! i hope you enjoyed!! stay tuned for a bonus scene of this fic, exclusive to patreon!!

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