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#happy (maybe) birthday beta
yesandpeeps · 6 months
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Birthday Kiss 🎂💋🦇
Rating: Teen.
Word count: 1146.
Pairing: Swiss/Aeon.
Summary: Aeon’s curiosity for his new life on the surface leaves him excited for any type of celebration. He overhears it’s a certain ghouls birthday, and can’t help himself. Kissing and petting.
Read below or on AO3.
New summons often had difficulty adjusting to the surface’s day and night cycle. It’s a struggle to learn how to initially regulate their energy. New ghouls tend to be keen on long naps, that is, if they even wake up in the morning.
Aeon was no different, granted slack due to his “new summon” status. Snoozing long after the sun had risen above his window. As long as he gets his chores done and gets to practice on time, Papa doesn’t seem to mind. The crisp air of autumn doesn’t help persuade him out of his warm bed, but the ache of an empty stomach sure does.
Eyes barely open, Aeon dresses himself and exits his room, guided towards the common area by smell alone. Whatever had been prepared for their midday meal was already put away, cold and stiffened in the fridge. It’ll do. Had the bright, cold light not clicked on upon opening the door, he would’ve never noticed the white cardboard box that nearly took up a full shelf. Aeon blinked at it for a moment, noticing a plastic viewing slot on the top of the box. Too curious for his own good, he slid the box halfway off the shelf and tilted it, peering in on a white sheet of. Something. Fancy curling letters decorated the surface. After a couple more dumb blinks, Aeon’s finally able to register what he’s seeing.
A sheet cake, elegantly piped with the words, “Happy Birthday Swiss!” Aeon’s jaw might as well have hit the floor. He took a glance around the room, empty except for him, and oh, so carefully slid the cake back onto its shelf. Why had nobody told him? He grabbed another boxed container, a portion of left overs saved for him, and closed the fridge door. He mustn’t waste any time, barely grabbing a utensil to scarf down his first meal of the day. The dish was cleared in what felt like seconds. Aeon had something more important to focus on: finding Swiss.
Thankfully, the rotation of chores was listed on a white board in the common area. Swiss was stationed on laundry duty, so he’d better check there first. Aeon bounded off down the corridor, hard to believe he was out cold barely ten minutes prior.
A little out of breath and sluggish from his hurried meal, Aeon pushes the door open to the laundry room as quietly as he can manage. He pokes his head in, and just like he’d hoped, there was his target with his back to him. Unaware. Alone. Perfect.
Swiss continued the steady pattern of folding towels out in front of himself, using his chin to assist, and tossing them into a basket. Mumbling and nodding along to whatever song was playing in his earbuds, blissfully ignorant to what lurked behind him. While Aeon stalked, the muscles shifting in Swiss’s back caught his attention, and he couldn’t help but admire his arms as he worked. The song must’ve gotten good, because Swiss began a little dance, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet and rolling his body. Aeon felt his cheeks grow warm.
Against better judgment, Aeon believed this was the perfect time to launch his attack. Holding his breath, he crept up behind his victim. He trembled in anticipation before launching his hands forward and grabbing Swiss’s sides, yanking him back against his body. The poor multi ghoul probably would’ve shot through the ceiling with how hard he jumped if he’d not been held down. Off balance and dazed, Swiss grabs at whoever’s arms were squeezing him and whips his head around. His breathless laugh sent a swoop through Aeon’s stomach. Swiss takes a step back to right himself again, letting his head roll back to rest against the quintessence ghouls shoulder.
“That’s a way to greet someone,” Swiss breathes, removing his ear buds.
“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday,” Aeon pouts, tucking his chin over Swiss’s shoulder.
Swiss turns his head, enough to brush his nose against Aeon’s hair. Talk right into his ear. “No?”
“No,” He chuffed, reveling in the way Swiss’s warm breath passed across his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Wasn’t on purpose, just never came up. Sorry bug,” Swiss shrugged, patting his hands over the limbs wrapped around his middle.
Reluctantly, Aeon let his arms fall to his sides, letting Swiss step out of his range to retrieve a towel that got dropped during the ambush. “So?”
“So what?” The multi ghoul tossed over his shoulder as he refolded the fabric.
Aeon rolled up onto the balls of his feet. “How old are you?” He prodded.
The beat of silence made him drop back onto flat feet, suddenly uncertain. Was that not an appropriate thing to ask?
“Well,” Swiss starts, “I’ve been topside since the reign was shifted to our Papa-“
“Not what I meant,” the other interrupts.
The taller ghoul hums for a moment before giving his answer. Aeon nods slowly before stepping back into Swiss’s space again, this time wearing a grin. Too innocent for the way he crowds Swiss back against the table.
“Well,” Aeon huffs, “I may not have known it was your birthday, but I do have a present for you. Maybe a bit of an apology, too.”
“Is that so?” Swiss tilts his head, unable to stop the smile that splits across his face.
“Mhmm,” hums the agreement. Finally, Aeon reaches to cup Swiss’s face in his hands, letting his fingers lightly scratch over the stubble on his cheeks. Before he can react, Aeon leans forward and places a quick peck to Swiss’s mouth, mostly kissing his teeth.
“Yeah?” Swiss barks a laugh, his head tilting the other way.
“One,” Aeon smiles.
“Just one? That’s it-“
The multi ghoul is cut off by another quick kiss.
“Two.”
Finally catching on, Swiss begins to melt into chuckles. He wraps his strong arms around Aeon, able to reciprocate the kisses now that he sees the game he’s started.
After the tenth kiss, Aeon’s not counting them out loud anymore. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t care, or maybe it’s because the kisses barely break enough for him to say anything. The kisses turn deeper, hotter, wetter. He’s letting his excitement wander, dropping a hand from Swiss’s face to pet at his chest. A shudder runs through him when he feels a wide palm slide up his back and rest on the crook of his neck, huddling Aeon closer. The quintessence ghoul indulges in Swiss’s form, allowing himself to trace the fat padded muscle going down his chest, his ribs, his stomach-
“Y’know,” Swiss mutters between soft licks and sharp fangs biting at his lips, “Plenty of other places could be getting this treatment, too.”
“Is that so?” Aeon chuffs, his fingers tracing the hem of the other's shirt.
“Mhmm,” hums the agreement.
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sttoru · 3 months
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toji never celebrates his birthday and thus learned to treat it as any other regular day. well, until you came into the picture and did the unexpected.
☀︎|tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut mixed with fluff & sprinkle of angst. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji late 20’s /early 30’s) implied size difference, p in v -> unprotected, cowgirl position, toji actually being a soft dom kinda, praise mixed with tiny bit of degradation, slight corruption kink, dirty talk / teasing, biting, creampie, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl \\ pretty, innocent, small'. not beta read. happy bday hubby!
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“i told ya — fuck jus’ like that — not to buy or do anythin’ for me on m’birthday.” toji’s head lolls back against the pillow while his rough palms explore every inch of your gorgeous body. the word ‘birthday’ rolls off his tongue in a bitter manner. the assassin never celebrates that dreadful day, as he calls it.
he’s never found it to be worth remembering. his family couldn’t care less about that day when he was a child, so why would he?
but, that changed when you came into his life. toji flinched when he heard a loud ‘pop!’ sound upon opening the front door to his apartment. he was used to those noises being one of danger and thus swiftly reached for the spare weapon in his pocket. . . only to notice you standing behind the door with a party popper and a homemade cake.
the older man froze in place for a good few seconds, though was quick to realise the situation and relax. after the initial shock died down, you excitedly dragged him off to the living room to show him the presents you bought.
toji's first reflex was to scold you for spending money on him. he had never gotten anything for his birthday—it was weird to finally receive something from someone who actually cares for him. it somehow made him feel guilty as well. was he worth spending money on?
toji’s impressed reactions when unwrapping the presents showed you exactly how foreign the moment was to him: he’s never opened any gifts before. that much was even more evident after witnessing his inexperience in peeling off the tape from the boxes.
eventually, after opening around seven gifts, toji got to unwrap his final present. the present which was you.
the way you innocently yet seductively whispered words of affection in his ears made his mind go blank. even if it were simple ‘i love you’s and ‘happy birthday’ wishes. the red dress you had on and how your figure looked in it made everything ten times more sexual to the assassin. anything after that was a complete blur. his body moved on its own and yours followed right after until you finally landed on top of him — riding him.
toji’s half-lidded eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight he's witnessing. maybe his birthday wasn't such a bad day after all; the loving memories you're currently creating would surely outbalance the negative ones.
you shake your head at toji’s earlier sentence and tighten your grip on his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his skin and leaving faint red marks. you almost can’t talk due to the overexertion—your hips continuously rising and falling back down for the sake of your lover, “i- mph, wanted to get you all those things. you deserve them, toji.”
the view of your small body trying its hardest to not give in to its need of an orgasm made the assassin dizzy. his large hands settle on your waist and his eyes watch your every move from behind his black bangs. toji silently hisses as he feels your tight cunt clenching around him, “. . . f-shit. easy there.”
your pretty face is his weakness. especially when your usual innocent look gets replaced by one filled with carnal desire. toji can easily get off to the idea of him having that effect on you—his words, body, looks and actions that corrupted your every being in intimate moments like these.
“such a sweet thing,” the dark-haired man coos, brushing the stray locks of hair away from your face with his index finger. his other hand rubs up and down your inner thigh, each time getting dangerously closer to your clit, though never getting a single touch in. the scarred corner of his lips twitch in an amused grin at your whines, “oh? want me to touch you there, princess? that what ya want?”
you nod without a second thought. you were trying your best to hold out for as long as your body allowed it — desperately wanting to reach your climax at the same time toji was going to — but the idea seems impossible the longer this continued.
your boyfriend grins smugly, raising his eyebrows before entirely removing his hands from your body. his arms rest behind his head as he reverts to simply enjoying the view of you riding him so well. toji can never not be mean to you. your little pouts only drive him to tease you more and more, “hm, well, ya see - i thought you were gonna spoil me today, not the other way around.”
“t-toji! tha's mean. . .” you huff, bottom lip trembling. your arms circle his neck and your upper body leans forward to rest against his chiseled chest. you stop your hip thrusts and instead grind against his pelvis, trying to stimulate your clit on your own.
toji clicks his tongue, but figured it was best to leave you be. he didn't want to be too rough on you today - you had been nothing but sweet to him the entire night. you had blessed him with his first, proper birthday experience as well.
“aww, my little girl ‘s pouting,” the older man snickers and his hands return to their place. he allows you to grind against him, the sensations being amazing for him as well. the tip of his cock almost reaches your cervix from the current angle and your bodily fluids smear all over his thighs and lower abdomen, “shh shh, ‘tis alright.”
your needy whines and moans are music to his ears. toji rubs your lower back and pats your ass every now and then, squeezing the soft flesh gently just to hear another whimper spill from your lips. there was no way you could hold back now. especially when your bodies were rubbing together and you could feel toji’s defined abs and hardened muscles underneath you.
“toji - nngh - can i? wan' — wanna cum.” your small hands tighten their grip around his broad shoulders. you earn a low, breathy chuckle from your lover. the increasing sensations in his lower stomach were an indication to how close he was to his orgasm as well. he wasn’t going to deny you any further.
toji sighs in content and presses a soft kiss to your temple, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. it was a rare occurence to see that vulnerable and affectionate look in his piercing green eyes. the little smile plastered on his face only added to the soft and intimate atmosphere.
. . . well, toji wouldn’t be toji if he wasn’t going to add catch you off guard in any way or form. your eyes widen and your body jolts forward as he suddenly starts putting work in—his hips ramming into yours from below, the skin-to-skin sounds resonating throughout the room once again. it was like the wind got knocked out of you for a good second, “fuck! w-wait, toji! tojitojitoji!”
the older man holds tightly onto you — cradling you in his arms as he lightly lifts your hips to have free reign over the pace and movements of your two bodies — thrusting up into you over and over. he lets out a series of small, silent groans as he feels his climax nearing;
“shit, yeah - ‘m gonna stuff this pussy of y’rs full, princess.” toji's callused fingers curl around your hip bones, using them as leverage to increase the intensity of his thrusts, “think you can take it all?”
you mewl and nod again and again. you’re on the brink of tears when the waves of pleasure reach their peak. your eyes roll back and your body convulses, legs shaking and squirming during those few seconds of pure bliss. your adorable babble in the form of toji’s name was all your lover needed to push him over the edge—
“fuck. ‘m gonna cum,” toji groans and firmly bites your shoulder to hold back any more noises when he finally decided to let go. a choked sob leaves your lips the instant you feel the hot spurts of cum seeping into your senstive cunt. the older man continues to thrust in and out sloppily, riding out his orgasm and fucking his cum deeper into you at the same time, “so good — i love you s’much.”
you smile exhaustedly at the love confession from your boyfriend. toji’s grip on you loosens up after he completely emptied his balls deep inside your cunt, his jaw finally unclenching. he plants a few wet kisses along the bite marks on your shoulder in attempt to soothe the pain.
you catch your breath as you rest on top of toji's body. he didn't put the slightest effort into pulling out of you — even as a tiny puddle of your mixed juices stains his skin.
“i love you too, toji,” you reply and earn another lazy kiss to your forehead. he rubs the back of your head and massages your plush thighs in a tender manner. nothing could make this moment even more perfect, you thought to yourself.
you smile as you pull your head back to look into toji’s eyes. he was already looking at you — admiring your gorgeous looks as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. you capture his lips in a delicate kiss, “happy birthday.”
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harunovella · 1 month
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse v); s.g.
synopsis: it's utahime's birthday and you play spin the bottle... bonus, you're tipsy! content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, underage drinking, seven minutes in heaven (probs done wrong? idk), semi-first kisses, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: here's another one shot for my gojo anthology series! I found out it's utahime's birthday (2/18) so I managed to pull something together for this lil series (happy birthday utahime)! wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!
"Happy birthday, Utahime!" Shoko exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the dark haired girl, clinking her beer with hers as the two chugged. There was an obvious buzz in the air, not only them, but everyone else. Mei Mei managed to get a private room where no one would question what was going on inside, seeing as some of the attendees were underage—yourself included. Your interest had always been piqued by it, this not being the first time your friends had beer around you. However, this was your first time having it... And you weren't the only one.
"Who would've thought you were a lightweight," Mei Mei piped as she nudged Gojo with her shoulder. "You never bothered to drink with us before, what's changed your mind?" Smirking at him, already knowing the answer, the older woman gazed at the white haired boy as his cheeks burned a bright pink. His eyes shifted in your direction—where you had been huddled up with the birthday girl and Ieiri. "Oh, trying to impress someone, huh?"
"Shut up," Gojo mumbled, rubbing his cheeks as his body slightly swayed. "I didn't want to be a party pooper..." Eyeing you as you laughed, Satoru felt his heart race faster than it ever had in his life. He blamed it on the alcohol. "It tastes like shit."
"Then why do you keep drinking it?" Geto asked, now settled beside his best friend. "You hate beer, the first time you tried it at Shoko's birthday was enough to stop you."
"It's because he's trying to impress little miss sweetheart over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. Suguru looked over, not surprised that he was doing this just to look cool in front of you. 
"She's not gonna care if you hate it, Satoru," Suguru nudged him. "This is her first time, too."
"That's exactly... why," Gojo hiccuped. "If she can do it, so can... I!" He nodded, lifting his bottle to take another swig. Instantly hissing at the taste, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, Geto laughed beside him before patting his back. "I'm trying to find a way to enjoy this but, god it's aw—"
"Satoru!" You exclaimed, waving at him before stumbling over. Falling to your knees in front of him and smiling wide, waving your own bottle before him. "This is really good, right?" You asked, realizing he had chosen the same beer as you. 
"Y—" choking on his words, Suguru smacked his back. "Yeah! To— Totally!"
Giggling, you made your way beside him as Mei Mei crawled away to sit with the other girls. "This is so much fun... what a great party," you beamed, leaning your head on his shoulder. Gojo grew stiff, grip on the bottle tightening as his free hand clutched onto his knee. Geto sat there with a smug grin, an idea coming to mind as his focus shifted towards the empty bottles. 
"Hey, I've got an idea," he spoke up, moving onto his knees to grab an empty bottle. "Let's play spin the bottle, hmm?"
"Yes!" Utahime nodded, tugging on Shoko's sleeve and waving for Mei Mei to move over so they could form a circle. 
"That'll be fun!" You nodded after lifting your head from Gojo's shoulder, grabbing his wrist so he could join you. 
He wasn't sure if it was the liquid courage, or maybe he was hyper aware, but you were being more touchy with him. Normally, you kept things cordial, constantly smiling or laughing with him as he was the one finding ways to touch you... Now with the tables turn? His heart was basically at the pit of his stomach, slightly trembling as you sat practically thigh to thigh with him. 
"Okay, let's do truth or dare," Suguru said as he settled the bottle, "whoever it lands on has to answer. Got it?" Seeing everyone nodded, the dark haired man grinned as he eyed his best friend, who basically looked like he was disassociating from the world. 
"Let's go!" Utahime exclaimed before clapping. 
"Birthday girl has the honor," Suguru nodded as Utahime beamed before reaching over to spin the bottle. 
Everyone watched with curious eyes, and like that, one by one everyone took a turn to spin the bottle. Most answered with truth, only to earn an annoyed groan from Mei Mei saying how things need to change up. 
Spinning the bottle, Mei Mei smirked as it landed on Gojo, "truth or dare, blue eyes."
Gulping, he eyed everyone as they eagerly watched him. Sucking in a sharp breath, he sat up, "dare."
"Finally," Shoko mumbled as Utahime stifled her laughter. 
"Perfect, I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with cutie over there," Mei Mei nudged her head in your direction. "No take me backs, get in there," she pointed at the tiny supply closet behind the two of you. Gojo looked over with hesitation as you blushed. 
"Okay!" You nodded, standing up and grabbing his hand to join you. 
He felt like he had no control over his body, following you along the way and nearly tripping over his own feet as you practically shoved him inside once opening the door. Watching as you followed inside, shutting the door behind you as you were pressed against one another, Satoru held his breath. Looking down at you with wide eyes as your own looked up at him, hooded, he felt his heart thudding against his ribcage. 
Pressing your hands against his chest, you smiled up at him. "We've got seven minutes in here..." you said. 
"You— you think they'll make us... stay that long in here?" He stuttered as you shrugged, only to shyly look away. 
"I hope so..." you admitted, nibbling on your bottom lip. 
Eyeing you and wanting nothing more than to touch you, Gojo clenched his fists at his sides before throwing his head back. His mind was racing, thoughts rushing around as he felt not only your hands on him, but your whole body. It took his entire being—and willpower—to fight the blood rushing towards a place it shouldn't be. Not in a moment like this. Even if it was meant for that. "You... Uh..."
"Hm?" You looked up at him as he lowered his focus to meet yours. 
"N— Nothing, heh..." he awkwardly looked away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck. 
"Satoru..." you spoke up. 
"Yeah?" He mumbled. 
"Please look at me..." you begged but he stubbornly kept his eyes on the wall beside him. "Toru..." you quietly spoke as the man shivered at the sound of his nickname. "Please..."
Feeling your hands snake their way up to his face, you gently turned his head to look at you. "I— I—"
"At a loss for words?" You tilted your head, teasing him as he blinked. "Can I kiss you?"
Feeling his heart sink as you gazed up at him with lazy eyes, Gojo took in deep breaths, "you— you want to... kiss me?" He asked, gulping. 
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to..." you nearly whispered, causing Satoru to shiver yet again. The feeling of your nails gently caressing his skin as you didn't bother to look away, Gojo squeezed his eyes shut. How were you being the bold one? How did you have the power to always turn him into mush? Sure, you had liquid courage, but even when you weren't tipsy you had him so easily wrapped around his finger! "Toru?"
"Yes," he nodded. 
"Yes... I can?" You asked as he nodded again. 
"Please..." he whispered, begging. He knew this wasn't the right time to get his first kiss from you (or ever) but he was so desperate and so needy. He should've said no, should've said another time. However, he was a teenage boy. He didn't entirely use common sense...
Tiptoeing as you tugged him down gently, hands moving to the back of his neck, your lips pressed against his. Feeling his heart in his throat as he gazed at your closed eyes, Gojo's shaky hands settled on your hips as he kissed you back, indulging in this (what felt like) once in a lifetime opportunity. Surely neither of you would never forget. 
"So, how was it?" Shoko asked as she sat beside you on a bench, enjoying a pair of strawberry milk boxes during your break from training. 
"How was what?" You tilted your head. 
"Your seven minutes in heaven with Satoru," she chuckled, only to earn a confused look from you. "Y'know, last night?"
"Seven minutes in heaven with Satoru?" You asked as she nodded. "I don't remember that..."
tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose @mandysfanfics @pinksaiyans (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)
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heartkyeom · 10 months
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be sweet
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prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)
word count: 18.7k
warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex
tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed
notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!
The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.
It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.
You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.
Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.
You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.
“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.
You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.
“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.
You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.
“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.
“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.
You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.
If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.
Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.
“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.
Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.
You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.
“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.
You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.
��Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.
He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.
Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.
“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.
You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.
He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.
“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.
“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.
“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.
“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?
“What do you mean?” You question.
He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.
Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.
How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?
It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.
“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.
You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.
“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.
“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.
The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.
“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.
“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.
“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.
“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.
“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.
You knew the country’s finances were not great.
You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.
“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.
“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.
“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.
“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”
You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.
“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.
“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.
“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.
“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.
You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”
“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.
Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”
“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”
You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.
“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.
You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.
“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.
“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.
“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.
“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.
Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.
The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.
You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.
You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.
As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.
You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.
Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.
Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.
Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.
“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.
When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.
“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.
“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.
“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.
“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.
“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.
“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.
“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.
Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.
Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.
“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.
“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.
A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.
“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.
“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.
“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.
You compose yourself before speaking again.
“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.
“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.
You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.
“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.
You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.
Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.
“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.
Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.
You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.
Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.
Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.
The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.
Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.
You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.
It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.
“What do you want?” You snap at him.
“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.
“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.
“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.
“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.
“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.
“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.
“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”
“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.
Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.
“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.
“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.
“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.
“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.
“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”
“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.
“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.
“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.
He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.
You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.
Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.
You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.
According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.
You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.
That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.
How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?
How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?
These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.
To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.
You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.
You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.
Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.
This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.
You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.
It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.
He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.
“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.
“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.
“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.
“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.
“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.
“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.
Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.
“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.
You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.
However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.
“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.
You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?
You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.
“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.
“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.
You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.
“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.
“Not at all.” He chimes in.
“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.
“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.
“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.
“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.
“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”
Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.
You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.
First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.
Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.
“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.
“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.
“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.
“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.
“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.
This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.
“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.
He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.
He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.
You didn’t want to end up in that position.
“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.
Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.
You figured that you should be bold too.
You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.
His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”
“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.
Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”
“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.
“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.
You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.
Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?
“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.
That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.
Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.
You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.
“When do we see each other again?” You ask.
“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.
“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.
“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.
“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.
Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.
Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.
“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.
That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.
“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.
“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.
“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.
“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.
“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.
That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.
“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.
“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.
“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.
“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.
“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.
You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.
A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.
At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.
You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.
You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.
“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.
“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.
“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.
“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.
“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.
“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.
“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.
You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.
“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.
You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.
Was it petty? Yes.
Was it also justified? Yes.
You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.
Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.
“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.
You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.
“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.
“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.
“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.
“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”
Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.
In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.
Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.
He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.
You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.
“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.
“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.
You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.
“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.
“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.
Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.
“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.
He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.
He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.
“So I’m not the first?” You ask.
“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.
The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.
“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.
“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.
“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.
“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.
It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.
“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.
Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.
“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.
“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.
“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.
You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.
However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.
“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”
His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.
“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.
“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.
The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.
The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.
You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.
Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.
Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.
You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.
“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.
You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.
“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.
“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.
“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.
“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.
“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.
“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.
“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.
“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.
“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.
“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.
“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.
“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.
“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.
“It sounds bad when you say it.”
“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.
“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.
“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”
He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.
“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.
The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.
“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.
“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.
“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.
“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.
“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.
“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.
“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.
“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”
He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.
He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.
“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.
“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.
“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.
“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.
“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.
“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.
“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.
“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.
“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.
“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.
You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.
He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.
“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.
That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.
“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”
“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.
“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.
“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.
You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.
It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.
You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.
Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.
“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.
“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.
That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.
He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.
It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.
You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.
You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.
Did you make him nervous?
He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.
“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.
“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.
“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.
“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.
“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.
He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.
You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.
Damn, he was good.
There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.
Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but
the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.
Why was he nervous to kiss you?
Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.
He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.
That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.
“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.
“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.
“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”
On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.
He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.
“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”
He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”
His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.
It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.
“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.
“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.
He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.
It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.
You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.
“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.
The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.
There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.
You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.
“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.
“What?”
“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.
You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.
This is your duty, right?
You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.
Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.
“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.
You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.
He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.
“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.
Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.
You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.
“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.
You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”
He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.
You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.
Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.
“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.
“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”
You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.
Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.
Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.
“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.
Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.
“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.
“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.
“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.
As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.
“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.
“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.
“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.
“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.
“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.
“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.
“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”
“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.
“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.
He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.
He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.
“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.
There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.
“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.
“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.
“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.
His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.
“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.
“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”
“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.
He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.
Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.
The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.
The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.
You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.
Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.
Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.
You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.
“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.
“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.
With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.
“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.
“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.
“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.
You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”
“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.
“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.
He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”
You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.
He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.
You were almost visibly in love.
“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.
“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.
“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.
What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?
Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t be better for you.
“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.
“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.
You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?
“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.
“What?” He sits up in surprise.
“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”
“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.
“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.
Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.
You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.
If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.
For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.
It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.
Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.
In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.
He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.
Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.
He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.
Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.
When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.
“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.
“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.
He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.
There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.
Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.
He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.
He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.
That was a kind gesture, right?
He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.
All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.
He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.
He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.
He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.
The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.
It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.
This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.
“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.
“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.
“Are you busy?”
“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.
“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.
“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.
“Well, these are your favorite.”
“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.
He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.
“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.
You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.
“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.
He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.
“Who said it was loveless?” He says.
“What?”
The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.
“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.
“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.
“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.
“Every day?” You question him.
“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.
“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.
“Anything holding you back?”
“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.
“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.
“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.
He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.
“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.
“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.
“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.
“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.
“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.
“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.
“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.
“Please,” You whisper.
It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.
He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.
“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.
As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.
Yet, your heart feels unanchored.
Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.
You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.
“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.
Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.
A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.
“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.
“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.
“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.
You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.
“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.
“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.
“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.
Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.
“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”
You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.
“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.
“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it��s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.
“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.
“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.
“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.
He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.
“Babe,” You whisper.
“Hmm?”
“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.
“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.
“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.
“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.
“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.
It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.
“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.
“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.
You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.
The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.
Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.
Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.
“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.
You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”
He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”
“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.
“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.
“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.
“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.
He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”
“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.
You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.
“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.
“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.
“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.
He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.
“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.
“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.
“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.
“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.
“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.
“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.
Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.
You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.
“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.
“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.
You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.
“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.
“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.
He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.
Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.
“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.
“You love me?” He asks in surprise.
“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.
“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.
“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.
“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.
----
“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.
He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.
“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.
He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.
“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.
“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.
“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.
He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.
“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.
“You’re insane, you know that?”
“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.
“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.
He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.
“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.
“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.
“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.
“Are you close?” You ask breathily.
“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.
“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.
“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.
“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.
“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.
It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.
You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.
You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.
“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.
“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.
His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.
“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.
“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.
“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,” You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.
“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.
“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.
He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.
“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.
“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.
As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.
There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.
Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.
You are both trying, and that is more than enough.
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cheolhub · 1 year
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FIRST DATE — KIM MINGYU ࿐
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summary. mingyu doesn’t usually fuck on the first date. emphasis on usually.
wc. 3.5k
warnings. MINGYU W/ A MASSIVE DICK, size kink, oral (m. receiving), deep throating/face fucking, shy baby!gyu (at first ;)), tears ofc, pet names (baby, angel), unprotected sex, mating press, gyu is a needy, pussydrunk boy(but reader is worse lol), slight dumbification, kinda romantic but it’s literally just needy sex— MINORS DNI 18+
note. THIS WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG…. um anyway!! happy birthday mingoo <3 — also @ hyuk4ngel ily dedicating this to u n gyu & thank u to my lovely lu ( @ bowmonde ) for beta reading this!! happy gyu birth to you all <3 (pls excuse typos)
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“i-i don’t usually do this on the first date,” mingyu stutters as you kiss down his neck, nipping and biting at his skin. he lets out a shuddered breath because he can feel the marks you’re leaving. he swears you’re trying to spell your name and it’s making his cock throb in his already tight jeans.
you mumble into his skin, “i don’t either, but, fuck gyu… you’re so sexy, i couldn’t hold back..” your hands find their way under his shirt, feeling him up and moaning when he whimpers at the not-so-subtle touch. 
gyu. you’ve called him by his nickname and you barely know him and, for some reason, it really turns him on. 
he wanted to be a gentleman– wanted to walk you to your door, peck your cheek, and whisper goodnight– but your mutual attraction got the best of you. one thing led to another and you were kissing him outside of your door as soon as he’d agreed to your invitation to come inside. 
you parted from his neck briefly to get inside so none of your neighbors would come outside to see the two of you eating each other alive. as soon as he’d stepped inside and closed the door, though, you pressed him right against it.
“we should move to–” he tries, but he’s interrupted by your lips. you slot them into his and your hands wander down his torso, down his abdomen, down till they reach his belt. 
“what do you wanna do, mingyu~” you seductively whisper against his lips. 
he shudders again, “anything. we can do whatever you want.”
you smirk, “you’re such a gentleman, gyu… you were so sweet at dinner. you picked me up, paid for my meal, walked me all the way to my door… i just wanna make you feel good.” you tell him, unbuckling his belt, but before you move to unbutton his jeans, you ask permission. “can i do that, gyu? can i make you feel good?” 
you can’t be real.
“fuck, y-you don’t have to, i want you to feel good, too.” he replies, words breathy as he finds himself chasing your lips.
you moan just at his words, leaning in to give him what he wants.
you must’ve done something redeemable in your past life to have accidentally met mingyu in a cafe. he may or may not have been on his phone while walking out and you may or may not have bumped into him while he was leaving. needless to say, his piping hot coffee ended up all over you and him, staining his white button up and your cute new top in the process. 
he’d asked if you were okay— if you were hurt or burned— profusely apologizing with a nervous stutter. when you finally noticed how beautiful the man before you was, you couldn’t even care about the irrevocable stain made on your shirt. 
you ultimately ended the conversation with, “it’s okay, you can pay me back with a date maybe?” to which he gave you an incredulous look. when he realized you were serious, he nodded shyly and exchanged numbers with you.
and the date went swimmingly, truth be told. probably the best date you’d ever been on. he made you laugh like no other and you made him blush with your playful teasing and easygoing aura.  the chemistry was undeniable.
which brings you back to the now— his tongue shoved in your mouth and your fingers still fumbling to unbutton his jeans. 
when you finally get them undone, you break from the kiss again and mingyu hates that you keep doing that, letting out a whine every time it happens. 
“wanna suck you off.” you tell him bluntly and his eyes widen in shock, puffy lips parting a bit. “can i?”
“are you sure?” he asks, meekly– a bit too shy for a man of his caliber. “i can eat you out instead…”
your core pulses at the words because, fuck, that sounds good too. you have no doubt in your mind that mingyu is a god at eating pussy if it’s anything like the way he kisses you.
but, no, you’re adamant on getting his dick in your mouth, so you shake your head. “you can do that for me another time… i really wanna do this. you’ll let me, won’t you?”
and how the fuck could he say no to that? he nods his head letting out a shaky, “ok.”
you nearly squeal, excitedly dropping to your knees and as you hit the ground, your eyes are leveled with his alarmingly large bulge. you unzip his jeans, pulling the denim and cotton boxers down his thick thighs till his cock pops out, slapping against his clothed abdomen. mingyu hisses as his length is free from the confinement and met with the cool air circulating in your home. 
and, honestly, you think you start drooling because holy. fucking. shit. he’s intimidatingly big. 
no, big is an understatement. he’s huge. massive. likely to split your body right in half if he tried to put it inside of you. but, really, what did you expect? mingyu himself is big. you’ve dated many men who were bigger than you, some even bigger than him— but none of their dicks compared to the one currently twitching in front of you. 
his leaky tip was flushed red and the veins running through his length were prominent. you could nearly feel the weight on your tongue and you hadn’t even touched him. 
“you’re so big,” you whisper looking up at him and he swears he’s gone bright red at the comment. 
“‘m not that big…” he mumbles, eyes averting from yours. if he looks at you on your knees any longer, he may cum untouched. “is it too much? i really don’t mind taking—“
you shake your head vigorously . if anything, you wanna take him down your throat even more. “it’s not… it’s not too much— i can take it.” you tell him and he inhales sharply because he’s fucking sure you could take it. “do girls not tell you you're big, though? why are you so humble about it?” you ask, hands slowly coming to wrap around his girth. 
he gasps at the unexpected contact, eyes finally coming back to you to find what may be a faux pout etched into your lips.“t-they do… i just- i don’t think it’s that big.” he reiterates.
“well it is. you probably wouldn’t even fit inside me,” you admit, voice hushed. your mouth hovers over his tip, letting a trail of spit out to lubricate him.
he curses, cock twitching in your light grip. “fuck, really?” the thought of not fitting in your cunt because he’s just that big has his mind reeling– has him excited. he wants to see if what you’re saying is any true (it is). 
you hum, nodding your head, slick hand effectively moving up and down his cock. “mmh, might break me without any prep– but you’ll make it fit, right, gyu? you’ll fuck me well?”
he lets out a gaspy moan, throwing his head back. “yeah, baby, i’ll make it fit– i’ll fuck you so well. shit, i’ll do anything you want.” his parroted words come out breathy once again. 
you exhale sharply, cunt clenching around nothing at his words and the thought of taking his cock. your hands quicken their pace before you move to wrap your lips around his blushing tip.
this man will give you anything you want and you’re willing to do the same for him. men like mingyu are nearly impossible to come by and you want to keep him all to yourself, so if that means choking on his dick till you can’t breathe, so be it.
you move your mouth down his cock and before you can reach the base, he’s already hitting the back of your throat. 
right above you, mingyu is losing it. he feels the way you constrict around him and it’s already taking him out. he hadn’t expected to be so sensitive, but he just can’t handle how warm and wet your mouth is and he definitely can’t handle how tight your throat is. he can only imagine how much tighter your cunt must be. 
“fuuuck,” he groans, hands flying to your head, tangling his fingers into your hair. “you’re so good.” 
the subtle praise heads straight to your core and you can’t stop the moan that vibrates his entirety. a pitchy whine rips from his throat and he fortuitously thrusts into yours causing tears to prick at your eyes as you let out a strident gag. 
he gasps out an apology, “‘m sorry.” he panting relentlessly and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was about to release into your mouth. when you look up at him with your mouth full and tears clouding your vision, you see that he isn’t really sorry. “‘m so sorry, angel, fuck, ‘m sorry.” he echos over and over with his face pinched in pleasure, yet his hips won’t stop bucking into your mouth. 
you try your best to breathe, but his massive cock makes it hard as it fills your mouth and throat completely. his hands holding your head in place makes it impossible to move, but he sounds so pretty whining and desperately moaning out your name– you don’t even want to back off of him. 
your hands find his bare thighs and you grip them for dear life, fingernails digging into the flesh, sure to draw blood if he doesn't ease up any second now. he hisses at the feeling, ripping you off him with a tug on your locks. 
“need to fuck you now,” he groans, his cock throbbing angrily at the loss of contact. “can’t cum like that, ‘s too embarrassing.” he picks you up, making you stand on your feet. he notices how your mascara runs and your lipstick is smudged, but somehow, you’re still the prettiest thing in the world.
your ego naturally inflates at the comment and you smile cheekily. “i would’ve been flattered if you came that quick.” the words come out raspy thanks to the way his cock bruised your throat. 
he chuckles breathily while pulling up his pants, “i‘m sure you get guys that cum too fast a lot. especially with a mouth like that. ”
you shrug, taking his hand and dragging him to your bedroom on the opposite side of the main entrance. “sometimes, but none are as pretty as you.” you tell him truthfully as you guide him inside quickly, shutting the door behind you. “or as big.”
your face to face with him and he whispers, “yeah?” 
you tug him close to you by his sweater. “yeah,” you whisper against his lips. “dunno how you haven’t been locked down yet, you’re so attractive ‘n sweet– and… y’know, you’re huge.”
“just waiting for the right person to come along, i guess.” he whispers back, hands finding purchase on your waist. “think i’ve found them, though.”
your heart skips a beat and your breathing picks up, “yeah?” you echo breathily back at him. 
“fuck yes,” his grip tightens, pulling your body flush to his. you feel his cock pressing into your abdomen and you let out a whimper at both the coded confession and the way your pussy throbs at his touch. “c’mere, baby.”
you melt at the pet name, closing the gap between the two of you. you count back to how many times you’ve kissed him tonight and you’re almost scared that you’re addicted to the feeling of his lips on yours. the thought quickly dissipates when mingyu begins to pull your dress up by the hem, though. the two of you walk towards the bed, mouths still attached till you fall on the plush comforter, mingyu toppling over you. 
you giggle into his mouth at his body crushing yours. “gyu.”
“sorry.” he scrambles, standing up so you can get your dress over your head. you throw the fabric to the ground, leaving your body adorned in a pretty, white set. typically, you wouldn’t dare pull out one of your favorite sets for anyone– especially not for a first date– but you think mingyu is the most beautiful– most deserving– man to exist. he should get to see the set. 
and he does see it. he can’t stop the way his eyes ogle your lace covered body. “you’re so beautiful.” he pants out much like he’s in heat. 
and he just might be. he quickly and clumsily kicks off his shoes and pulls his pants back down, revealing his aching cock to you again. you curse to yourself when his shirt comes off shortly after, his big chest and toned abdomen on full display. 
god really took his time with kim mingyu. 
he doesn’t waste any time, practically lunging at you and hovering over you with blown out pupils. “look like an angel– fuck, you’re so pretty.” 
you pout, feeling your brain turn to mush at the endless compliments that seem to flow past his swollen lips. the dull ache and sporadic pulse in your cunt remind you how needy you are, though, so you express that to him by bucking your hips up. 
“gyu…” you whimper. “want it so bad.”
he groans, hands pinning your hips down and grounding you to the bed, “i have to prep you, baby– you said it yourself, ‘m not gonna fit.”
you shake your head ceaselessly while squirming in his grip, “no, i don’t care, just give it to me or else i might die.”
“but you said–”
you interrupt him before he can say anymore. “give it to me… please.” the plea comes out hushed and your words are laced with the utmost desire. so much so that it’s almost impossible for mingyu to deny you. you can see some doubt lingering on his face so you tell him exactly what he needs to hear. “‘m so fucking wet for you, mingyu… i’m sure it’ll just slip in– it’s okay. you won’t hurt me.”
he shakily exhales before nodding. “o-okay…” his fingers nimbly tug at the soaked panties, signaling you to raise your hips so he can roll them off your legs. 
mingyu’s pulse thumps erratically in his ears as soon as he sees just how wet you are. your pussy glistens under the soft lamp light and he wants a taste– to drown in your pussy– because he just knows you’re fucking delicious. 
“wanna taste you…” he moans and your walls clench around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal trickling out of you. 
you teeth catch your bottom lip to stop the whine bubbling in the back of your throat.“next time…” you croak. “just need your cock inside of me right now.”
he nods his head at the promise of a next time– he’ll hold you to that. “condom?” 
“iud and ‘m clean,” you confirm, knees knocking against your chest as you pull them up. 
“same.” he says mindlessly as he grips the back of your thighs and spreads you open. “well, i don’t have an iud, but i’m clean, too.” 
he’s cute, you think before you remind yourself that this cute, big man is about to absolutely wreck you. 
you smile, “good,”
one of his hand wraps around his throbbing length, running his flushed tip between your soaked folds to collect wetness. you whine at the contact, praying that he finally stops this unintentional teasing.  
when he drags his cock to your drooling hole, he asks, “are you sure?”
your eyes squeeze shut and nod, “uh-huh, please.”
he lets out a wobbly sigh before pushing his fat tip into you, biting his lip as he watches the way your cunt stretches open to swallow him up. you gasp, back arching at the burning sensation in your core. you really have never taken anyone so big. 
he stops only half way when he’s met with strong resistance. “talk to me, angel,” he whispers to mask his wavering voice. “are you okay?”
you mewl, “g-gyu…” 
“baby, do you need me to pull out? you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts, his cock twitching between the gummy walls that suffocate him. 
your hands grip the sheets under you and you shake your head, letting out the most incoherent sentence ever. “n-no, just– slow, go slow.” 
but you’re completely coherent to mingyu. “relax, pretty. ease up for me– i want it to feel good.” he coaxes, voice soft.
his attempt in helping you relax proves to be futile when you clamp tighter around him. the action elicits a moan from the both of you. 
“j-just fuck me– please, just move.” 
he gives you a weary look, but does what you ask for anyway. he pushes past the resistance, sheathing himself further inside of you. and, fuck, you swear you’re just about to cum when he’s finally bottomed out, both of your hips flushed against each other. you’re impaled on his fat cock, stretched open and completely full of him. 
he’s very hyper-aware of how you're squeezing him while he’s balls deep inside of you and his mind can’t stop reeling. he moans out your name and a few curses, holding himself there till you adjust to his size. 
and you’ve gone dumb at this point, unable to make a comprehensible thought about anything other than the cock you’re split open on. “s-so big. oh my, god, mingyu– you’re so big.” you almost sound like you’re overexaggerating, but it’s true. you can feel him everywhere. 
he can’t stop the way he jolts at the comment, inadvertently driving himself into you. you sob at the doing, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
“shit, sorry. still good?”
“mhm, ‘s good– ‘m good.” you tell him as the uncomfortable burn slowly melts to pleasure. “you can move, baby.”
mingyu groans, hands coming back to grip the backs of your knees pushing them against your chest before he slowly pulls out and pushes back in.
you let out the prettiest moan, his name tumbling past your pouty lip and, now, he thinks he’s lost it. 
no, he’s definitely lost it because his speed quickens without a second thought. he drives his cock in and out of you, listening to the way you cry and mewl mixed with the sound of his balls slapping against your wet cunt. 
“Y/N, you’re so fucking good. pussy’s so fucking good– takin’ me so well,” he nearly cries, gripping your flesh tighter. “god, you’re mine now.”
his?
it shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but the way your stomach flips and walls tighten verifies that it does. 
“and you’re mine.” you moan in response. 
and the reassurance that you want him to be yours has him lurching in to sloppily kiss you, moaning into your mouth while he keeps a rapid tempo. you let him swallow your whines and your arms envelope him, pulling him closer. 
his cock finds your sweet spot and when you gasp, he knows to keep hitting it with precision. 
“gyu! gyu, i’m gonna cum.” you warn against his lips.
he growls, thrusts increasing in pace as he’s adamant on getting you to your high. “cum for me, baby– cum all over my fucking cock.” 
his words and impressive speed trigger your orgasm. the tightness in your tummy dissolves as you completely unravel under his big, buff body. you seize, back arched and head thrown to the pillow as you cum and clench around him uncontrollably. 
“that’s it, fuck,” he moans, continuing his assault on your poor pussy.  “you’re gorgeous, angel, so fucking pretty when you cum.”
the onslaught of pleasure is almost too much, body beginning to shake in overstimulation. “w-wan’ you to cum,” you slur, a cry following the words. “please please please, cum on me!” you beg. 
and mingyu is at your beck and call. he knows he’s  just met you, but he’d do anything you asked of him because the grip you (and your pussy) have him in is nothing short of insane. 
that’s why he’s quick to pull out, releasing you from his bruising grip to fist his arousal-drenched cock up and down. he throws his head back and moans out your name again as he releases hot, white ribbons of cum onto your stomach. 
after a few minutes of panting and coming down from his high, he chuckles airly. “i’m so glad i spilled my coffee on you, if i’m being completely honest.” 
you giggle, hiding your face in your hands, “it was a cute top, though.”
“well, you look cute without it on.” he smiles, leaning down to pepper your face with soft pecks. 
“mingyu!” you blush, playfully slapping his bare chest. “be serious!”
“i am!” he laughs. “speaking of being serious… when’s our next date?”
you hum, “well, it depends. when are you free and what do you wanna do?”
there’s a playful glint in his eyes when he looks at you, “i’m free now… and y’know how you said i can eat you out next time?”
your breath gets caught in your throat, but you nod your head remembering the promise you’d made. 
“well… what do you say? can i treat you to a second date? say… right now?”
“i’d love nothing more.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
taglist 🔖: @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @rckwithyou
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thepowerofswayze · 4 months
Text
just for you
originally on ao3
pairing: mike schmidt (2023) / fem!reader
word count: 993
warnings & info: 18+, no beta, mostly smut with just a little fluff, established relationship, reader has breasts and a vagina, reader is called a girl, references to later piv sex, fingering, reader comes, mike doesn't, readers birthday! yay!
summary: Mike wakes you up on your birthday :)
note: this one feels a little rushed to me but that's alright. also, not even my birthday, but who cares. happy birthday to me!
You woke to a soft smattering of kisses pressed to the back of your neck. The early morning sun slipped in through the windows, warming your face as you blinked your eyes open. Mike was behind you, your back pressed against his chest. His arm was draped over you, his hand resting on your stomach, as he continued to place sweet kisses down to the nape of your neck and back up to the start of your hairline.
You smiled a little, blinking fully awake. “Hey,” you whispered, moving your hand to lay on top of Mikes, your thumb rubbing along the back.
He hummed, kissing the dip between your neck and shoulder, stubble scraping lightly against your skin. “Morning,” he murmured, voice still gruff with sleep, though clearly he’d been awake a little longer than you had.
Mike's hand began to roam, innocently running up and down your side. You sighed contently, moving your own hand to reach back and feel for him, but he gently took your hand in his, humming a “Mm-mm” as he curled his fingers over yours. You turned back, raising a brow just a bit, repeating the noise to him inquisitively.
He gave you a crooked little smile, leaning down to kiss you as his hand returned to your side, moving under your (his) shirt. “Just you right now,” he murmured between kisses, his hand finding your breast and circling your nipple with his thumb. “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”
Oh. Right.
“Well, I won’t say no to that.” You smiled into the kiss, then pulled away and shifted to lay flat on your back. Mike hovered over you, propped up on one elbow, kissing your neck. His hand trailed away from your breasts, down your torso, until he slipped past the edge of your waistband.
You let out a shaky breath as his finger found your clit, rubbing slow, light circles. His lips found their way to your shoulder, leaving little marks that no one else would see, as his fingers picked up the pace and the pressure.
You let out a moan, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth. You had to be quiet, you remembered. Abby was just down the hall. She didn’t have school, just a sleepover later in the day, but she was likely to wake up soon regardless, and you didn’t want to be the reason.
Mike kissed just under your ear before whispering, his voice low, “Quiet for me, baby.” Then, at your responding muffled whine, “You can be as loud as you want later tonight. I’ll eat you out till you can’t stand it. I’ll fuck you hoarse, if you want.”
He was fucking evil , saying these things and expecting you not to cry out in response. Still, you nodded eagerly, moans reduced to gasps and whimpers with great effort, mouth falling open in silent ecstasy as he pushed two fingers into you. He kissed you, and you took the opportunity to moan a little louder, his mouth muffling the sound.
When he pulled back to look at you, Mike’s pupils were blown wide. “All I wanna do today is make you feel good, baby,” he breathed, his thumb rubbing heavy, sloppy circles on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of you.
“‘S Good,” you managed, breathless as your hips began to move, grinding down on his fingers. “So good, Mike, it- Shhhhit .”
You could hear his breath catch at his name on your lips. As much as you loved getting all his attention while you just got to lay there and enjoy it, you couldn’t wait to fuck him later. Maybe you’d ride him until you simply couldn’t move anymore, long after he was spent, a babbling mess beneath you. Maybe you’d take him up on the offer to eat you out all night, watching his hazy expression as he got drunk on you, as if he was enjoying it just as much as you were.
Minutes passed, and the anticipation, the whispers against your skin, his fingers working on you tirelessly- it was all driving you to the edge. “I’m- fuck , baby- close,” you gasped. Your breath came rapidly, the need to keep quiet slipping from your mind almost entirely as you neared your release. Mike murmured your name amongst his stream of encouragements, nipping at your ear. His fingers curled inside you, and you were gone.
You folded the pillow over your face as you came, trying to muffle your cries, eyes squeezed shut. Your hips slowed to a stop, but Mike didn’t let up, fingers still moving as the pleasure hit you in waves. “That’s it,” he was saying, pressing kisses to your jaw. The words barely reached you through the blissful haze. The pillow fell away as the loudest of your cries turned to small groans and pants, your eyes still screwed shut. “Look at you,” he murmured.
When you managed to open your eyes, brow furrowed still, Mike was looking at you with something akin to awe. You put your hand on the back of his neck and dragged him down for a kiss.
Finally, you came down, your body relaxing, and he removed his fingers. You watched, still panting, as he stuck his fingers into his mouth, eye contact unwavering. Your breath shuddered.
Mike kissed your cheek, then your nose, letting you bask in the feeling. After a few minutes, you let your hands card through his hair as he pressed his forehead to yours, his thumb making lazy strokes along your hip. He kissed you softly, then nudged his nose with yours. “Cmon,” he said. “You go take a shower and I’ll go make you breakfast. How’s that sound?”
You gave him a smile, barely getting a “Perfect” out before he was scooping you up in his arms. Letting out a yelp, you wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing as he carried you to the bathroom.
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chiscribbs · 6 months
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Updated Future Donnie Concept Art!!!
So, I've been hesitant to try my hand at designing an Apocalyptic Future version of Donnie for a while, for a number of reasons - mainly that I just didn't have a clear idea of him in my brain yet and the thought of attempting to update his already pretty perfect design was highly daunting - but I finally caved and decided to take a crack at it. A couple months and several revisions later, I'm actually genuinely happy with the result. I'd still consider this "concept art" more so than a final design, elements of it could definitely be improved, but I really do like the concept as a whole - I think it could work!
The main goals I had in mind while working on this were: A. Must fit the character/look like something Donnie would canonically wear and still be easily recognizable. B. Must work in the Rise world & style (i.e. not be overly detailed or have too complex a silhouette.) C. Must fit in with the other (canonical) Future Rise designs.
I was also thinking about what problems Donnie might be trying to solve, which is what inspired the belt (more info on that below). All-in-all, although there might still be a few kinks to work out, I think I managed to come up with a pretty solid base design for my favorite Warring Warrior Scientist (Jr.)
Some additional character tidbits under the cut.
Also, I can't draw mechanisms to save my life, so just pretend those vague ninpo-gun-things make sense lol
Donnie has a mechanical prosthetic leg. How'd he lose that leg? Up to interpretation - my working theory is that it was a minefield accident that occurred when he was trying to blow some Krang dogs to Timbuktu. Naturally, since it's Donnie and they are in the midst of an alien apocalypse, he designed the leg to do a whole lot more than just help him stand without falling down. It's a multifunctional tool that contains a plethora of secret uses - including, but certainly not limited to, sawing off ugly Krang faces. It's essentially his new tech bo.
Bonus leg tidbit: Casey Jr. saw him deploy the saw blade in battle once when he was little, he then proceeded to beg for a saw-leg of his own to fight the Krang with. Donnie, realizing that amputating a perfectly healthy child's leg is probably not that most morally acceptable option, instead made him his own "sawing stick"(AKA, his motorized hockey stick)...which the others then made him wait until Casey's 10th birthday to give him.
The belt that Donnie's wearing here is a prototype of his latest invention. Its intended purpose: to deflect the Krang's mystic-blocking attacks, allowing them to use their ninpo in close combat. It took a lot of risk-taking to collect the necessary information to create such a device, and he experienced a number of way-too-close calls (one of which may or may not have resulted in that large gash across his plastron), but he finally managed to crack the code and pinpoint the frequency of the Krang's sound waves. He's testing it out right now to make sure that it works and is safe to use, but once it's out of beta, he plans to mass-produce them for every mystic-wielder in the Resistance to use in battle. He believes it could turn the tides of the war...unfortunately, the device never makes it out of beta, as he dies before its completion.
Donnie's gloves are fashioned after the ones his dad used to wear in his Lou Jitsu days (with some modifications, for comfort and to make working with screens a little easier and less annoying.) The material they're made out of is far more durable, of course, since he's working with them near-constantly and under varying conditions. But maybe he designed them to look like this as a way of keeping his dad's memory close, similar to Leo's sword hilt?
Ironically, Donnie uses his ninpo probably the most consistently out of all the brothers (even though Mikey uses his to the greatest extent, hence his rapid aging). He's constantly using it to check on the base's security status and multitask while working on other projects. Because his ninpo takes a good deal of brain power to operate, it puts a significant amount of strain on his nervous system and this causes frequent complications. Seizures, spasms, and blackouts become a semi-regular occurrence - especially in the latter part of his life. Donnie does his best to manage them, but the workload makes it almost impossible to do so properly. Mikey is able to help with these attacks when they happen, but Donnie - not wanting his brother to overuse his powers any more than he is already - usually opts to just ride it out and save the mystic healing for people who need it. The exception to this rule being when he's in the middle of an extremely important procedure and can't stop long enough to let the attack pass naturally, then he has no choice but to accept Mikey's aid.
This is probably needless to say at this point, but much like Leo and his other brothers, he is a giant. Equal in height to Leo (if not slightly taller, even without the goggles.) The doodle in the top-left corner of the sketch page where he's next to April is meant to be them sitting, so don't take it as anywhere near an accurate representation of their height comparison. It is not, he dwarfs her by several feet, lol.
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dearsnow · 6 months
Text
ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)
- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)
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word count: 2,646
a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!
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It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.
“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.
Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know why. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.
You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.
“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.
Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.
He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.
He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”
You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”
“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.
He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.
It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.
Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.
“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.
“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”
Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.
You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.
He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.
He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.
“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”
Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”
He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.
You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?
“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.
“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.
It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.
By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.
You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.
“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.
You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.
You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.
“What do you think about Y/N?”
Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”
There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”
Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”
Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”
“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They��re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”
“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.
Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.
After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.
He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”
You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.
Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.
“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.
“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”
Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.
“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”
For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.
You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”
“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.
“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.
He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.
He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.
“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.
When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.
Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“
He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.
When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.
“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”
He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”
You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”
“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.
“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”
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557 notes · View notes
psychickiss · 7 months
Text
i’m not too late
— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)
— summary: You come over to Saiki’s house to give him a (kind of last minute) birthday gift, which ends with you two hanging out in his room.
— notes: nottt beta read also!! maybe ooc kusuo 😵 also also! dt @kusuokisser
— things: confessions... blah blah... romantic!! quite awkward
— masterlist | request form | retrospring
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Saiki’s mom calls out to her son, “Ku! Check who’s at the door for me, please?”
Saiki nods. He’s already heard the inner voice of whoever rung the doorbell to his home– he knows it’s you, and he knows why you’re there.
“Belated happy birthday, Saiki! Sorry I’m late, I didn’t know your birthday at first.”
Now, he needs a way out.
First, he accepts your gift. Maybe you’ll leave after he takes it. Of course, Saiki can’t just rudely shut the door on you– he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings get scolded by his mom. So, he engages in small talk. “It’s alright. You got the month right, at least. The only ones who greeted me correctly are Mera, Aiura and– to my surprise– Toritsuka.”
Confused, you ask, “And who... got the month wrong?”
“Everyone else. We partied in May. Is that all?”
Saiki tunes in to your thoughts, and he’s hopeful he’ll spend the rest of the day alone. Yes? No? I wanted to hang out, but maybe not? He clings onto that “maybe not” of yours.
Like any other person, you get curious. You ask him again, “No...? May? You guys partied in May?”
“It’s a long story,” he says. He’s hearing your (still) inquisitive thoughts. Saiki internally sighs. I need to get this over with, quick. There’s a show I want to watch that airs at 4:30 PM. It’s only 1 PM, but time is fast. He steps to the side, allowing you to walk past the gate. He doesn’t know why he’s letting you in. Saiki takes off his footwear before entering his house, and you do the same.
Saiki announces his presence to his mom, as well as yours. “Oh, dear! Are you here to celebrate Ku’s birthday? Have you eaten lunch already?”
You nod in response to both questions from Saiki’s mom. “Well, I’m not too sure about the celebration part... I figured I’d just give Saiki his gift, then leave–”
Saiki’s mom shakes her head. “No, stay! You obviously made the effort to come all the way here. Stay as long as you’d like.”
Good grief. Saiki forgot to take his mother’s friendly nature into account...
“Okay, I’ll stay.”
... As well as your politeness. Not to mention, the fact you’ve been looking for opportunities to be alone with him.
So, you and Saiki head up to his room.
You two aren’t the closest of friends. Sure, you’d go straight for him when you needed a partner for school and you two would sometimes walk home together, but you aren’t as close to him as Nendou and the others.
That doesn’t stop you from having feelings for Saiki, though. What started as a silly crush to help you pass the time in class developed into full-on fantasies of going on dates with him.
Usually, Saiki wouldn’t mind such things when it came to people like you– people who don’t act on their feelings– because that means he wouldn’t need to actively avoid you, but you confused him.
Saiki sometimes wanted nothing more than to ask you about your feelings for him, but that just felt uncharacteristic for him to do.
He wants you to act on your feelings– tell him how you feel. For what reason? He cannot put a pin on it. Not yet.
Saiki opens the door to his room, letting you enter first.
You sit on the foot of his bed and ask, “Did you have fun?”
Saiki sits on the chair in his room, which isn’t too far from you, before answering. “I don’t really celebrate my birthday in the way others would, but I splurged and bought lots of coffee jelly. My mother baked cake too.”
You give him a small smile. “So, is that a yes?”
Saiki nods.
Saiki didn’t really have much of a plan or intention to kick you out of his house. You didn’t talk his ear off as often as his other friends, so he figures you two can sit in his room alone in silence. He doesn’t hear you mentally complain, anyway. Most of your thoughts at that moment were in regards to the way his room looked.
Most of your thoughts.
I should ask about the show that’s going to air later this noon. Oh. My god. I can’t believe I’m alone with the guy I like, it’s the perfect time to confess!
Saiki hears your thoughts, yet he does not do anything about the confession part. He and you both know you’ve thought of confessing your feelings multiple times but chickened out everytime.
Hm. Saiki wonders if this time, you get the courage and finally tell him. He knows what he’ll say.
Your eyes dart nervously to Saiki, then at the TV right next to his bed, where you’re seated.
“Have you... Do you know about the show that’s airing later? 4:30?”
Saiki nods.
“Would you want to watch it together?” You take a deep breath after asking. Fortunately, he nods.
“Would you like something to drink? Or eat?” Saiki asks. If you’re staying, he might as well be a good host.
“Ah, just water. Maybe, uhm, coffee jelly– if you’re going to get some of your own.”
Saiki nods and he exits his room, leaving you alone.
You eye the gift you handed to Saiki. You had only gotten him a cardigan, unsure of any specific tastes of his, although the design was quite... un-Saiki; it wasn’t plain, but it wasn’t too much design. It just didn’t look like something he’d wear often, though you figured he could probably try out new things.
You just hope he likes it. To be safe, you had bought him a gift card to the store you got his gift from.
Saiki opens the door with a tray in his hands. Two cups of coffee jelly and one glass of water.
You make yourself comfortable on the floor of his room, Saiki sitting across from you and setting the tray down.
You take a sip of water before muttering, “Thank you.” Saiki gives a small nod before silently eating his coffee jelly.
He doesn’t really like being talked to while he’s eating, you think. You’re left to just look at Saiki with that expression he’s always wearing when he’s eating anything sweet. It’s cute.
You’re opting to confess, Saiki feels it. As unromantic as the scene seemed to be– two friends sitting on the floor without talking– he figures if he should be confessed to, it’d have to be nothing grand.
Plus, he knows what he’ll reply, anyway. He’s prepared his response since the first time you backed out of confessing to him.
You grab a plastic spoon and open your cup of coffee jelly. Before you take a bite of the sweet treat, you finally say the words.
“I like you.”
I know. I’m still chewing, hang on.
You quickly eat a spoonful of coffee jelly before Saiki could even respond. Say something, please?
You anxiously eat your coffee jelly, waiting for Saiki to finish eating his.
...
Finally, finally, Saiki replies.
“I don’t really know yet, but I might like you too.”
You feel as though a wave of relief washes over you. At least it’s not a rejection. Oh my god. “Really?”
Saiki nods. He doesn’t say anything else, and in shock, neither do you.
“Don’t ask me how I know this–”
Mentally, you interject, I probably won’t, but continue.
“–but I know you’ve liked me for a while now.”
You sigh in frustration. “I thought I was hiding it well...”
I can’t help that I have telepathy. Saiki discards that thought, instead saying, “No, you were pretty obvious.”
You laugh quietly. “God, I’m sorry! Glad that you might like me back. At least that being obvious wasn’t in vain.” You smile at Saiki. “Belated happy birthday, again. Next year, I’ll be sure to greet you on time.”
Saiki lets out an amused hum. “We’ll see.”
630 notes · View notes
death-paint · 3 months
Text
The Summoning (Spellbound pt.2)
Leon Kennedy x Fem! Witch! Reader
Word Count: 3427
Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, thigh riding, clothed sex (kinda?? reader is in lingerie I'm not sure if that counts)
Summary: Leon gets busy during the holidays, having to leave for a mission just before Christmas. You do some holiday decorating while he's gone, and he gets to open his present a little early. ;) If it's a bit confusing, reader celebrates both Yule and Christmas.
I worked on this for about a week and finished it just last night, so I really hope it's still a decent piece of writing lol. I also don't write a bunch of smut so I hope that part is at least okay
Tysm @ghostkennedy for beta reading!! If you're into dark fics, Han's your gal. Go check out their writing!!
I suggest reading part 1 first! But it's not necessary <3
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ CONTENT
Edit: I made a playlist for this and part 1! Feel free to listen to it while you're reading!
dividers by @cafekitsune
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A few months have passed since your first attempt to teach Leon the ways of your practice. Ever since then, he’s been asking you to make him protection spell jars whenever he has to leave for work, “just in case,” he says. It didn’t take a psychic to know that he was starting to believe it, even if it was just a tiny bit. Tarot card pullings are a part of both your daily routines now, and Leon was well on his way to learning their meanings.
Now, it was late December, and you were once again dancing around the house with incense, the scent of which still made Leon turn up his nose. But that didn’t matter right now. He was out “running errands,” no doubt gift shopping for your and Leon’s mutual friends. Or maybe he was out to pay a bill or two and get groceries, but either way, he was out of the house. Music blaring throughout your home once more, you spun and stomped and shimmied as you put up the Yule decorations. Small holly branches were in a vase on the dining table, a pentacle hidden in a wreath outside the front door, and a large fir tree in the corner of the living room. A few pine branches and pinecones sat atop the bookshelf and your altar in the living room, giving it a fresh scent. Candles were scattered about, almost no corner was without one. A gold one here, a red one over there, the odd green or white ones sprinkled around.
Leon was never much of a decorator, never saw the point of keeping material possessions, especially if he was basically on call for the government 24/7. It made it a little harder to tell what kinds of gifts Leon would appreciate. You only got him cologne and a new pair of gloves for his last birthday, figuring he’d appreciate a more useful present. He seemed happy with it, you caught a whiff of the cologne every time he kissed you; made your head spin. But once you came along and moved in with him, he found himself looking for little trinkets to bring back, most of which ended up displayed on your altar.
So, that’s why holiday decorations are usually up to you. Not that you minded, it was nice to have free reign over how the house looked, even if sometimes you were up at odd hours of the night nearly breaking your back to rearrange things. Literally. Leon had woken up once or twice to that, finding you on the kitchen counter or catching you from when you fell off of the bookshelf.
“You can do all that in the morning, baby,” he yawned, his groggy voice filled with concern as he rubbed his eyes. “And you can ask me to help, you know. Don’t need you breaking bones just to make the living room all pretty, doll.”
You spent hours getting everything to look perfect, saving the tree for when Leon got home. Gotta make it feel like he participated at least a little, right? Mistletoe hung just above the entrance to your home, a nice surprise for when your partner returned home. You sat in the kitchen, decorating a log at the dining table for a while before getting up and taking a break to make some cookies for you and your boyfriend to enjoy. Fun holiday cookies, with a bit of a witchy twist.
You washed your hands and gathered up the ingredients for the average person’s sugar cookies. But you were no average person. From the kitchen cupboard, you pulled a jar filled with dried lavender and a paper bag of rose petals. You stared at them a moment before deciding against the rose petals, putting them back. Do you make a syrup first, or just drop the lavender buds into the dough? Or do you simply wait and press the lavender in just before it goes into the oven? Thinking it over, you decided the best way to get what you wanted out of the cookies was to mix the flower buds into the dough, as it would better hide the texture while still being delightfully floral. So you do just that, sprinkling a little bit of lavender into the bowl and putting the jar back from where it came. You decide on fun little decorations, carefully arranging purple and green colored sugar into the shape of lavender on a few of the cookies before tossing them into the oven along with a few orange slices to dry out.
And then comes the sound of the door shutting.
“Looks like someone was busy today!” Leon calls from the doorway. You sprint over as fast as you can, quickly giving him a series of pecks all over his face. When he playfully raises an eyebrow at you in affectionate confusion, you point up at the ceiling above the door. He chuckles, amused as he sets a few bags on the floor. He then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss, swaying along to the music coming from your phone hooked up to a speaker in the living room.
“How’d the errand running go?” You ask, curiously trying to peek inside of the bags that lay by Leon’s feet.
“It went just fine,” he replied, moving to block the bags from your sight. “No peeking. We’ll wrap the gifts together in a bit.” He took the bags and put them in a nearby cabinet. He took off his jacket, put it on the coat rack, and kicked his shoes off before making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands.
“Hey, what’s up with the wood on the table?”
“Oh!” You walk into the kitchen after him. “I was in the middle of decorating a Yule log!”
“Looks festive.” He moved the log to sit on top of the cabinet he put the gift bags in. “You really take the whole holiday decorating thing seriously, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I like making the place look pretty!” You smile.
“Every room is a thousand times prettier the second you walk into it,” Leon kisses your forehead.
“Oh, shut up,” you scoff.
“What? It’s true!”
“You’re so fuckin’ cheesy.”
“Shut up, you love it.”
“Yeah, I do.” You sigh, hugging him.
The smell of lavender and citrus permeates the kitchen, and you release yourself from Leon to take the baking tray out of the oven. It lands on the top of the stove with a bit of a clatter, filling the room with its wonderful aroma a bit more strongly now.
“What’s that? Cookies?” Leon asks, sneaking up behind you, reaching out to grab a cookie and wiggling his fingers. You smack his hand away.
“You’re gonna burn yourself.” You warn him, shooting over a glare.
“If it’s something you made, it’s worth it.” Leon reaches around you, grabs a cookie, and immediately recoils, hissing in pain as he shakes his hand, dropping the cookie back onto the tray.
“Told you.” You smirk.
“That you did.” He walks to the sink to run his hand under cold water for a moment. Once he feels the pain has dulled enough, he makes his way back to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you on the forehead. “Well…since you’ve done a lot today, how about we order takeout? As a treat.”
“Okay. How’s pizza sound? Or…actually, maybe I want Chinese food…” You go back and forth between the two, thinking of the different reasons for each. Leon chuckles at your indecisiveness.
“We can do both. You’ve earned it, doll.” Even after you’ve lost count of how many times he’s used the pet name, it still makes your face turn beet red.
“You spoil me.”
“That’s my job.”
And so the two of you sat in the newly redecorated living room, sifting through all the different ornaments to decorate the tree as you waited for your food to arrive. Leon of course was in charge of the star, him being the taller one in the house. Dried citrus slices, cinnamon, and other natural decorations hung from the branches, along with several sparkling garlands, glass pixies, and snowflakes. By the time you got to wrapping the colorful lights around the fake evergreen, the doorbell rang, signaling it was about time for a break.
Neither of you bothered to grab plates, agreeing that neither of you wanted to do dishes tonight. Instead, you opted to just use the plastic forks that came with the bag of takeout containers, and ate the pizza straight from the box as you stared up at the television screen, watching whatever Christmas movie happened to be on. At some point, you hopped back off the couch, finishing up the tree and glancing up at the TV every so often.
Now it was Christmas Eve, and some grinch of a bioterrorist had Leon off to work again. Can’t they take the day off too? Take a break from trying to destroy the world and all that when you’re trying to spend time with your boyfriend? Fucking rude. But the fact of the matter was that they don’t give a fuck, and you had to sit at home, waiting, unsure of his safety, as he couldn’t text you while he was out. In your boredom, you had the idea to come up with yet another surprise for him. You grin devilishly, deciding to go shopping for Leon’s present.
After breakfast, you headed out for the nearest department store, browsing the aisles for hours before settling on a cute floral set that was a bit heavier on the greens. You tossed an elf hat into the basket as well as a few other things you thought Leon might like. A few bows tossed in at the last second, and you were on your way back home. As soon as you got inside, you wrapped all your gifts (aside from the lingerie) and placed them underneath the tree. The rest of your day was rather uneventful. You took a nap around two o’clock in the afternoon, had leftovers for dinner, nothing special.
And then came the text.
Of course, you hadn’t been expecting one, especially not from your boyfriend. Not so soon. Guess it either wasn’t that big of a threat, or he had help. Or maybe he was just that good. Or all of the above. Whatever the cause of his early return was didn’t really matter, it just meant you’d be able to see the look on his face sooner than you’d anticipated. Giggling and giddy with excitement, you slipped on the lingerie set, hat, and some festive stockings you had hidden in a drawer somewhere. You stuck one of the ribbons on your chest above your heart, turned on the lights of the tree, and assumed your place underneath it, waiting patiently for Leon’s return.
Quite some time after you first sat, you were halfway to falling asleep when you heard the lock click open, signaling your partner's return. At first, Leon didn't seem to notice, assuming that the lack of light (aside from the tree) meant you were in bed. It was your hair getting caught on a branch that made him look over.
“Oh? Look what we have here…” Leon knelt down to your level after taking off his jacket and shoes, reaching out to touch your face. “A naughty little elf, wrapped up nice and pretty for me.” He moved his hand to rest underneath your chin, his thumb just underneath your bottom lip as he gently tilted your face up to look at him. You felt yourself slip into that hazy headspace the second the words left his mouth, your teeth gently tugging at your lip as your eyes met his. He chuckled upon seeing your expression, untangled your hair from the tree, and threw you over his shoulder to carry you to bed, your hat lying forgotten somewhere on the living room floor. Once he reached your shared bedroom, Leon gently dropped you on top of the mattress, watching as you looked up at him, glassy-eyed and cheeks flushed.
“Aw…pretty baby. Been waiting for me all night, haven’t you?” You nodded, a small whine leaving your lips. “Come on doll, use your words.”
“Yes, Daddy…missed you so much,” you pout, pretty doe eyes meeting his baby blues.
“That’s my girl.” Leon sits on the bed, one knee between your thighs, and one hand under your chin as he leans down to kiss you, the other supporting his weight. Slowly, the hand on your face moves to snake around your back, gently coaxing you to sit up on his leg. You clung to him, breasts pressing into his chest as your lips moved over one another’s hungrily. Leon’s hand wandered lower, giving your ass a squeeze. He quietly laughed as you jumped at the sudden sensation.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful. I don’t even wanna take this off…” Leon slid his thumb underneath the strap of your lacy bralette, letting it slip off and hit your skin with a snap.
“Then don’t,” you breathed. Leon thought it over for a beat, a smile overtaking his features.
“My pretty little angel…you’ve always been such a smart girl.” Shivers run down your spine as Leon pulls you in for another heated kiss.
As you tangled your fingers in his hair, he slid one of his own hands underneath the fabric of your bralette, kneading your soft flesh. Slick pooled in your new lacy panties, and you slowly started to drag your clothed cunt back and forth against the rough texture of Leon’s jeans.
“Aw…gonna make a mess all over my pants, baby?” He coos, both of his hands on your hips now. 
“Mhm!” You nod, continuing to roll your hips, your voice high-pitched and whiny.
“Such a needy little girl.” Leon teased. “Go ahead, baby. Show Daddy how bad you need him.”
You found it hard to keep your head on straight as your hips started to move faster, Leon’s hands helping you get enough pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your arms hung around his neck, a dazed look on your face as you tried desperately to get yourself off. Leon always thought you looked adorable like this–made him that much more eager to bury his cock inside your soaking wet pussy. Seeing your expression, he felt his cock twitch in his pants. You looked so pretty, so desperate. He almost didn’t want to wait anymore–had to remind himself to be patient. Needed to be sure you’d be ready for him.
Your face did little to hide the pleasure you felt, the delicious friction of your clit moving back and forth on the denim nearly too much to bear. You clung to Leon a little tighter, the fire in your lower body dangerously close to spilling over.
“Le- fuck…Leon!” you cried out, voice quivering.
“Go ahead, doll. Be a good girl and cum on my lap, baby.” One of Leon’s hands comes back to your face to wipe away a tear that slipped its way down your cheek, moving to guide your face to kiss him once more. Your hips rolled harder and faster a few more times as you whimpered and moaned into his mouth, your orgasm burning through your body and leaving you shaking as Leon guided your hips to ride it out.
“My sweet angel…you did so well, sweetheart.” He caressed your body after it was over, hands lingering near your ass and soft breasts. “Guess I should give my pretty baby what she’s been waiting for, yeah?” You nodded in response, prompting an expecting look from Leon.
“Yes, please, Daddy! Been waiting so long!” Your face falls into that adorable pout again. God, it made Leon want to fuck you endlessly, so hard you wouldn’t recover for weeks. He pushed you to lie on your back, standing up to undress. Leon did his best to make a show of it, but undressed rather quickly, eager to feel your hot, wet pussy around his cock.
Your breathing picked up again as you watched him, eyes trailing over his hands as they unbuckled his belt with a few satisfying clinks. The sound had you rubbing your thighs together with anticipation. Fuck, you needed him so, so bad.
Leon, sensing your impatience, hurried to kick off the rest of his clothing, rushing back to the bed to kiss you, his body hanging over your own. The heat of his body against yours felt so nice as he reached down between the two of you to feel how wet you were. You were absolutely drenched, and he'd hardly even touched you! He smirked as his fingers delved into your slick, embarrassing wet sounds filling the bedroom.
“Leon…please…” you whined, holding back from fucking yourself on his fingers. “No more teasing…”
“So my little doll can ask for what she wants!” He pulled his hand away from your core, wrapping it around the base of his thick, hard cock. His other hand pushed your panties to the side, and he stared for a moment at your glistening folds before guiding the head of his dick to sit at your entrance. “God, it gets even more beautiful every time I look at it, baby. Love seeing how wet I can make you.” He murmured, burying his length inside of you. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching out your tight hole. You rolled your hips up into his, signaling you were ready for him to move.
He set as steady a pace as he could, finding it hard not to just pound into you as soon as he slipped in. He'd missed you while he was out. Wanted–no, needed to feel your skin on his for days. The way you pushed yourself back to him wasn't exactly helping, either. Gradually, he picked up the pace, the head of his length hitting your sweet spot and making your pussy squeeze around him, sucking his cock in deeper.
“Shit…keep squeezing me like that and I won't be able to last much longer, angel.”
“Can't help it, Daddy…feels so good…”
Leon leaned in closer, pushing your legs to your chest in a mating press, his thrusts pushing his cock so deep you damn near felt him in your throat, leaving you breathlessly moaning as he rolled his hips. Your eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out pathetically as Leon’s thumb circled your clit, making you see stars.
“Fuck- daddy! Daddy please!” Your cunt pulsing around his cock was driving him insane, he was so close to the edge, just needed to bring you there with him.
“I know, baby girl, I know,” he purred. “Need you to wait for me, okay? Gotta be a good girl and wait until I say.” You only whimpered and nodded, unsure if you could speak any further.
Leon's thumb kept stroking your throbbing clit, your pussy clenching around his shaft was fucking heaven. His thrusts stuttered, cock twitching inside your walls.
“Cum for me, angel,” he pounded into you harder and faster now, his cock hitting your g-spot nearly perfectly every time it plunged back into your cunt. 
“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” was all you could say as your body twitched and writhed, the wet slapping of your bodies together sending you over the edge.
“Fuck, that's it. Yeah, that's my good girl,” Leon grunted, groaning loudly as your pussy milked his cock, making him spurt his hot, thick load deep inside. “So good for me. Love you so much, baby.” He kissed your forehead as he slipped his cock out from your hole, using his fingers to stuff his cum back inside. He steps out of the room for a minute, hurrying back with a couple of water bottles. He helps you sit up, handing you a bottle.
“Thank you, Leon.” You open the water bottle and take a sip.
“Anything for my pretty girl.” Leon smiles, climbing into bed beside you. “You okay?”
“Mhm. Just…” your sentence is interrupted by a big yawn. “Sleepy.”
“I think some cuddles are in order then, yeah?”
“That sounds perfect.” You yawn again, snuggling up to him, and laying your head on his chest. “I love you, Leon.”
“Love you too, baby.” he wraps his arms around you as you both happily drift off to sleep.
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imjess-themess · 1 year
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Green With Envy
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Summary: When your friend comes for a visit to celebrate your birthday, she catches the eye of one Jake Seresin (the man you’re in love with), making you green with envy.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of sex. Little angst, lotta fluff. Some jealousy. 18+ Only please! Minors DNI.
A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thank you to @therebeccaw for being my beta!
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Green. It has always been your favorite color because of its natural beauty. However, not even the purest emeralds and jades, the greenest spruce trees, or the magnificent landscape of Switzerland could hold a candle to his eyes. You, too, were a shade of green, but the ugliest shade. Green with envy, jealous you might say. Jealousy. You really despised that word, but there was no other way to describe what you felt as you watched him with her.
Your grip tightened on the drink in your hand as you watched Jake, the guy you had been in love with for years, flirt with your oldest friend from back home. You were the one that introduced him to her, so really you were to blame for all of this. Peyton was only in town for the week to visit you for your birthday, but that would never stop Jake and hadn’t in the past. It was the one flaw you found in him, the ability to pull any girl. And he owned up to it, something that drove you crazy.
Tonight Penny had closed down the Hard Deck for your big party (one of the many perks of being her niece and favorite employee). Celebrating with your closest friends, free booze, and good food, couldn’t have been more perfect. Correction, it should have been perfect. It started as such until Jake whisked Peyton away to chat, leaving you behind in the dust.
When you introduced her to him earlier in the evening, you had been so excited for Peyton to meet the guy you considered your best friend. Upon his arrival, Jake wished you a quick “Happy Birthday” and gave you one of his tight hugs. The ones that lasted longer than he gave anyone else which always made you feel special. Peyton cleared her throat beside you so you pulled away to introduce him and he hadn’t talked to you since.
It seemed he was immediately enamored and wasted no time flirting. To make matters worse, she was eating it right up and you hated it. Instead of being in the mood to celebrate, you were feeling heartbroken and ready to cry. The other aviators noticed and tried to distract you, but it wasn’t working.
Jake was always a flirty person by nature, but with you he was different. You weren’t just the next girl on his bedpost, you were his best friend and confidant. It was hard not to fall for him. The other aviators were always saying that he felt the same way about you as you did him. At first, you’d laugh it off and tell them they were wrong, there was no way they were right. Slowly, you started to notice how gentle he was with you, how there was always an excuse to sit close to you, excuses to touch you even if it was subtle. Perhaps you were imagining it, but you started to believe what everyone was telling you, getting your hopes up that maybe one day he’d admit it or that he wouldn’t run away if you were to say something first. However, you were starting to second guess yourself as you watched Jake leaning in towards Peyton, his signature grin wider than ever as he laughed at something she said.
Bob seemed to take notice of your dejected state and suggested going outside to get some fresh air. You followed him outside without hesitation, desperate to avoid watching your heart get stomped on any longer. As soon as the cool night air hit you, tears started to stream down your cheeks.
“Gin, you have to tell Jake how you feel. While he’s generally pretty smart, he’s kind of an idiot when it comes down to his feelings,” Bob advised you as he placed a soothing hand on your back.
“I don’t think I can, Bobby. Everyone says he feels the same way about me, but what I’m seeing in there makes me question that. I can’t fathom telling him and ruining our friendship when he rejects me.” The tears continued to stream down your cheeks and your nose was becoming red and puffy.
“You don’t see what we can see, but he looks at you like you hung the moon and every star in the sky. I think you’d be surprised if you actually admitted how you felt,” he stated, hoping it would encourage you.
The noise of the door opening snapped you out of your thoughts and you watched as Jake stepped out of the bar onto the back deck, the deck lights illuminating his smile. “There she is!”
“What’s going on out here?” His smile quickly faded when he saw your tears and you swiftly turned your head. He stepped closer and you could see Bob shake his head out of the corner of your eye trying to stop him but you knew it wouldn’t. He stood in front of you and gently cupped your cheeks with his hands, wiping your tears. “Hey, what’s wrong? There should be no crying on your birthday, haven’t you heard that rule?”
You tried to laugh it off and nodded, stepping back from his touch and taking note of the frown that took over his features. “It’s nothing, I promise. Just got off the phone with my Nana and now I miss her. It’s silly really and Bobby here was trying to help me feel better, right?”
Bob gave you a look of disapproval but played along anyway. “Yep. That’s right.”
Jake looked between you two and was about to speak up when the door opened again. “Oh, there you guys are! Wondered where the party went.”
The urge to roll your eyes was strong but you kept it at bay and shot Peyton a fake smile as she made her way onto the deck. Though she spoke to all of you, it was no secret that she was really directing it to Jake. You watched as she cozied herself up to his side, clinging to his arm.
“Just checking on Gin.” Jake nodded his head in your direction.
“Why do you guys call her Gin?” Peyton scrunched her nose up in confusion.
Jake shrugged, a small smirk on his lips. “Because the first time I met her, she tripped and spilled Gin and Tonic on my lap. Kind of just fit and we’ve called her that ever since.”
You thought back fondly to that moment. Everything had been going smoothly until you were met with those green eyes, the ones that have both tormented and brought you joy ever since. It had you on edge all night, feeling extra nervous when you had to take a couple of drinks to their table. Without paying attention you tripped over someone’s foot sticking out and ended up spilling the drinks in hand on none other than his lap. While awkward as all hell at first, Jake had found it comical and he was so kind about it. Somehow it sprouted the best friendship you ever had.
Peyton awkwardly chuckled, clearly not finding it as funny or as endearing as everyone else. “Anyway…are you ready to go?”
Bob looked at you worriedly as your brows shot up in surprise. “You guys are leaving?”
Peyton nodded and moved to stand in front of you, placing her hands on your arms and giving you the doe-eyed look and annoyingly innocent smile she’d use to get what she wants. “You don’t mind, do you? I promise to take you to breakfast tomorrow morning or something. Jake promised to show me around town tonight, saying he knew the best spots. Something about a lookout and some diner?”
You could have sworn she had shoved her hand into your chest and squeezed it with those words. He was going to take her to the lookout you had shown Jake. The one that became your spot when either of you needed to decompress and vent to each other. First, you’d stop for fries and shakes at your favorite diner, getting them to go. Then he’d drive you guys up to the lookout and you’d talk for hours, even after the shakes and fries were gone. That was your spot. Which apparently did not hold the same meaning to him.
“No, of course not. You guys have fun.” Peyton smiled and gave you a quick hug before she was swiftly by Jake’s side once more.
“You‘re sure you don’t mind?” Jake directed his gaze to you, his eyes boring into yours intensely. For a moment you couldn’t find your words. You wanted to tell him that you did mind. You wanted to scream at him to stay there with you, to tell him how you felt. But how could you? He clearly didn’t feel the same.
Plastering on the best smile you could, you shook your head. “Nope, you guys have fun. I’m going to go back in and enjoy my party! Bob, come and dance with me. You promised!”
Bob’s face heated up as you grabbed his hands, watching as Jake’s face fell momentarily. Without waiting for their full reactions, you pulled Bob back into the bar, heading straight for the drinks. “First, shots.”
“Why didn’t you tell him? That was your moment!” Bob questioned you as you poured two shots of tequila.
“That was not the moment. He’s taking her to our spot, Bobby. Which apparently doesn’t hold the same meaning to him as it does to me. Everyone is wrong, he doesn’t feel the same way. So drink up!” You tried to hand him one of the shot glasses and he shook his head as he grabbed both, placing them on the counter of the bar.
“Alcohol is not going to solve this,” he countered.
You shrugged your shoulders and picked up one of the shots and tipped it back. The burn at the back of your throat was a welcomed distraction, so you grabbed the second shot and downed that one as well, much to Bob’s dismay. “You’re right, Bobby, but it will most certainly help me forget! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy!”
And that’s exactly what you did. With a few more drinks in you, the image of Jake wrapped up in Peyton was far gone and you spent the rest of the night dancing with your friends and getting wasted. There’s a possibility you might have tried to put the moves on Harvard, but Bob was quick to step in and drag you away before anything could happen. The last thing you really remember is kissing Rooster on the cheek and Bob pulling you towards the exit as he promised Penny and the rest of the squad that he would get you home to make sure you were okay.
~~
Awoken by the building pressure in your head, you groaned and rolled over to bury your face in the pillow. It had been a while since you had experienced a hangover and now you remembered why you try not to drink yourself into oblivion. Between your head feeling like it was about to burst and the terrible nausea, you wanted the world to open up and swallow you whole. It would hurt a lot less.
The door to your bedroom opened and you lifted your head slightly to see who it was but felt immediate regret as the light that peeked through the curtains had you squinting in sensitivity. Heavy footsteps headed towards you, stopping at the edge of your bed.
“Here’s some water and some Advil. Drink up.” Bob’s voice was as soft as always but to you, it sounded like he had a megaphone directly next to your ear.
Reluctantly you sat up and opened the bottle of painkillers, taking a few and downing the glass of water. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to stay, you know.”
Bob sat on the edge of the bed and chuckled. “Someone had to make sure you were okay. Between trying to sleep with Harvard and asking me to strip for you when we got back…”
The heat rose to your cheeks and you brought your hands up to your face in embarrassment. “Oh god. I didn’t.”
“It’s okay, it happens to the best of us,” he chuckled with a shrug of the shoulders.
“Does it though?” You then thought back to what caused you to drink so heavily in the first place. Peyton and Jake. “Do you know if Peyton made it back last -” You were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Bob stood up stating he’d go answer it for you.
You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, willing yourself to get out of bed and see who was at the door. It took you a moment, but you managed to push yourself up and make your way down the hallway. You probably should have put on some pants, the oversized t-shirt just covering you up, but you weren't entirely awake enough to think straight.
“Hey Bob, what happened to my pants?” You questioned when you tried to piece together what happened the night prior. As you stepped into the living room, you paused as you noticed Peyton and Jake in the living room. Peyton giggled as Jake was stone-faced, glancing down at your bare legs. Feeling vulnerable, you pulled down the shirt trying to cover up.
“Well done, babe,” Peyton teased as she walked over to you. “I just need to shower and change really quickly, then I thought maybe we could all go for breakfast?”
She squeezed your hand and then made her way down to the guest bathroom before you could protest and try to explain what was happening. Jake’s gaze shifted between you and Bob as he sat down on the arm of your couch. “So…you two a thing now?”
You furrowed your brows in confusion at his question, which soon turned into annoyance as to why he cared. “Why does it matter to you?”
“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend, and you’ve never mentioned that you felt anything for Floyd.”
Bob quickly jumped in. ”Hey, uh…still here. Nothing has happened between us. I was just the designated driver that made sure she got home last night seeing as she was wasted.”
Jake narrowed his eyes as he looked between you two. You rolled your eyes and turned your head towards Bob, silently pleading with him. “Come to breakfast with us? I’ll buy. It’s the least I can do after you took care of me last night.”
He nodded with a small smile. “Of course.”
“Great! I’m going to go shower as well, be out in a bit.”
You made your way back to your bathroom to shower and scrub any trace of last night right off you. Unfortunately, you were far from erasing it from your memory after seeing Jake and Peyton again. It only made you want to scream at both of them that much more. They left you on your birthday. He left you, his supposed best friend, to hook up with a girl he just met that night. All feelings you had for him were currently pushed aside to allow room for the now bitter taste of anger.
You let the hot water wash away the unwelcome tears for a few minutes, taking your time to avoid the inevitable awkward breakfast you were about to endure. When you finally decided not to leave them waiting much longer, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, moving into your bedroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you saw Jake sitting on your bed waiting for you. “Jake! What the hell? Get out!”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he took in the sight of you but quickly recovered. “Not until you tell me why you’re mad at me, Gin,” he stubbornly replied.
With a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest to hold your towel in place. “I’m not mad at you, Jake. Now get out so I can get dressed.”
He stood up and swiftly crossed the room to stand directly in front of you seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you. How he caused your heart to beat right out of your chest.
“You are mad and I don’t understand why.” He stared at you intently, waiting for you to admit it.
The scoff that escaped was uncontrollable as you looked away from him, the intensity of his annoyingly beautiful green eyes becoming too much. “I think you know why.”
“You said you didn’t mind that we left,” he tried to argue.
You stepped back and gave him an incredulous look. “It was my birthdayJake! I shouldn’t have needed to tell you whether to go or not! You couldn’t have waited to go until after the party? Does our friendship mean that little to you, that you’d leave me on my birthday to go hook up with my friend?”
His face faltered but he remained silent for a moment and you realized he wasn’t leaving anytime soon so you stepped over to your dresser to grab your clothes.
“Well it seems you were perfectly fine and cozy with Bob last night,” he countered.
“He was just being a good friend. Something you wouldn’t understand.” You wanted to hit him where it hurt and this was exactly how to do it.
“That’s not fair.”
You turned around to face him. He looked hurt but you weren’t about to feel guilty. “Really? Was last night fair? And to top it all off, you took her to our spot of all places. That was the real blow.”
“Why is that such a bad thing?” he questioned.
You turned around to look at him and he looked genuinely confused. It only went to prove that his feelings were not the same as yours, and fuck it hurt even worse than before. “If you have to ask that, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
Before he could respond you quickly stepped into your bathroom and shut the door, locking it behind you. Anger and hurt coursed through you, as tears streamed down your cheeks once more. Things were never going to be the same in your friendship and that almost hurt worse than the fact that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings.
Before you could wipe away the tears and get dressed, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You swiftly wiped at your cheeks and let out a deep breath before opening the door. Peyton was on the other side looking beautiful and as put together as ever. No wonder Jake wanted her. She was the definition of beauty.
“Do you care if Jake and I meet you there? He said he wants to head out and make sure we actually get a table.”
You sighed internally when you thought about what you were about to do. “What if Bob and I didn’t join you? I’m guessing you want a little more alone time with Jake, right?”
“Actually, I was really hoping you would come because firstly, I promised you. And secondly, I need a buffer. As amazing as Jake is, I think he’s a bit shy.”
A small laugh escaped your lips and you shook your head. “Jake is not shy.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then why wouldn’t he sleep with me last night? Any time I tried to put the moves on him he pulled away and we just… talked. And don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy and fun to talk to, but I want him if you know what I mean.”
This revelation took you by surprise. “Wait. You guys didn’t sleep together?”
She shook her head in disappointment. “No. Not even a kiss. Unfortunately, we just talked the whole night. Fell asleep on his couch once we made it to his place.”
“Oh…” Your mind was reeling at this point. He hadn’t even kissed her. Why? “Sorry, I fail to see how having me go to breakfast with you guys will get him to sleep with you…” you trailed off confused about how she thought you could help.
She shrugged as she played with the ends of her hair. “It might not, but I figure he’s comfortable around you. I mean, he talked about you a lot, so maybe if you’re there he’ll open up a bit more, and then he’ll feel more comfortable around me.”
He talked about you? None of this was adding up. “Peyton…I hate to break this to you but Jake is not shy. He’s slept with girls he didn’t know plenty of times and I watched him leave with them every single time.”
“Well…that’s okay! Please, as one of my best friends, do this for me! And talk me up, make me desirable.” She tried to joke but you knew she was being serious. You couldn’t blame her, it was Jake after all. It was hard not to want him.
Letting out a sigh, you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Peyton squealed in delight and clapped her hands together. “Great! Now hurry up and get dressed!” She bounded out of the room to let you finish.
Once you were dressed you made your way out to the living room to see Jake and Peyton had already left, leaving Bob to wait on the couch.
“They went ahead so we could get a table. Jake seemed to be in a sour mood after going back to talk to you. What happened?” Bob asked curiously as he stood up.
“He couldn’t understand why I was mad at him so I basically told him he’s an idiot and slammed the door in his face,” you replied with a shrug as you grabbed your purse.
Bob chuckled with a shake of his head. “That will do it.”
~~
Upon arriving at the restaurant, Jake and Peyton were sitting in a booth, his arm draped across her shoulder as she giggled at something he whispered into her ear. Last night you didn’t think the pain in your heart could get any worse, but it stung to see him acting as if nothing was wrong after that confrontation.
Bob must have sensed that you were upset and grabbed your hand, giving it a small squeeze for comfort. You gave him a grateful smile and walked over to the booth, Bob sliding in first and you following suit so that you were across from Peyton rather than Jake.
“Took you long enough,” Jake muttered.
You shot him a glare and picked up the menu to hide the view of the two of them cuddled up together. Maybe you could just cry hangover and get out of there. It’s not like you would be missed since they were so wrapped up in one another. Just as you were contemplating it, the waiter approached the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m James and I’ll be your server today, can I get you started with some drinks?”
As you put the menu down and looked up, you were met with gorgeous blue eyes and golden curly locks. While he wasn’t Jake, you still had eyes and you couldn’t help but take in the sight of him. The other three gave their drink orders and when he got to you, he gave you one of the most beautiful smiles, showing off an adorable dimple. “And for you, gorgeous?”
The heat rushed to your cheeks and you quickly gave him your order. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jake’s jaw tick. “Perfect, I’ll bring those out then take the rest of your order.”
He threw you a wink and walked away from the table. Peyton gave you a knowing smirk. “He was definitely checking you out.”
“He was just being nice,” Jake argued with a scoff.
“He was being nice to us three,” Bob gestured between Jake, Peyton, and himself. “He was flirting with Gin,” he agreed, pointing his thumb in your direction.
“Exactly. And I know that she hasn’t been with anyone in a while, so why not him?” Peyton added.
Jake pursed his lips and removed his arm from around Peyton’s shoulder. You shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. “Sure, he was handsome.”
“Not just handsome. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. And did you see those eyes? They were so blue!” she gushed as if she forgot that Jake was sitting right next to her.
“I really like green eyes,” you accidentally blurted out as you mindlessly glanced at the menu again. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched upward slightly and once again your cheeks were burning. You had not meant to let that slip.
Peyton shrugged. “Still, he seems like a catch.”
“Then you go for him,” you snarked, sitting back in your seat. Snapping at her wasn’t intentional, just instinctive.
She put her hands up in mock surrender. “Excuse me for trying to help you find someone. Wasn’t it you who complained to me on the phone last week about how you wanted to get laid?”
Red. That was the only color you were starting to see. As if Bob could sense it, he placed a comforting hand on your thigh. “Don’t do something you’ll regret,” he muttered quietly.
“I told you that in confidence. There was more to it than that and you know it. I was telling you about the guy I had feelings for and how I’d rather wait for another meaningful connection before just jumping into bed with someone again,” you spewed out angrily.
“Chill, it's just Bob and Jake. It’s not like one of them is the guy you’re harboring feelings for,” she stated with a roll of her eyes.
You glanced down in embarrassment and she quickly caught onto it. “Wait. It is one of them, isn’t it?”
She was met with silence as you avoided looking at Jake, a few tears now rolling down your cheeks. That was the only answer she needed. “Oh my god, it’s Jake, isn’t it?”
There was no way you could answer that and instead grabbed your bag, sliding out of the booth as quickly as you could. You heard Jake call after you, but you weren’t about to stop and face the embarrassment of him knowing your true feelings. You weren’t ready for that inevitable rejection, because whatever pain you were feeling earlier, it was only going to get worse.
Just as you made it out to your car in the parking lot, you heard Jake’s voice once again calling out for you. “Gin, wait up.”
“Don’t, Jake. Just leave me alone and go back to Peyton.” You didn’t bother to turn around and unlocked your door.
“We need to talk about this,” he argued as he got closer.
“No, we really don’t.” You slid into your car and shut the door, turning it on to leave. For the first time since it was revealed, you looked up to see Jake through your windshield. He looked defeated but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him. You backed out of the parking spot and drove away.
~~
After driving around for twenty minutes or so to avoid going home, you somehow ended up at the lookout. The place you shared so many sweet memories with Jake. Perhaps subconsciously you wanted to relive those memories before they became just that. Memories. There was no way you’d be here creating any new ones here.
As you sat on the hood of your car looking out at the city, you were jostled out of your thoughts by the crunch of the gravel underneath tires as another car pulled up next to you. Looking over to the side, you recognized it as Jake’s car and sighed. This was it. This is where he tells you that he cares about you but he only sees you as a friend. Why would he want to be with you when he could have someone like Peyton?
Jake climbed out of his car with a brown paper bag and two cups in hand. He had stopped at the diner for milkshakes and fries. He held up the bag as he kicked his door shut. “I figured you’d still need something to eat.”
You couldn’t find the words to say as he walked your way. Jake handed you a milkshake and the bag of fries. He wasn’t wrong, you were hungry and hadn’t eaten anything. As you opened the bag of fries, Jake hopped onto the hood of your car next to you.
“Jake, you didn’t have to buy me food to let me down gently, you know. Just rip the bandage off quickly. I’ll be fine.”
He let out a scoff as he glanced at you. “What makes you so sure I’m here to reject you?”
He sounded offended at the accusation so you looked at him confused. “Why wouldn’t you? You have girls like Peyton falling at your feet constantly and could have any one of them. I mean, you almost had Peyton.”
“And that was a dick move, and completely stupid. I didn’t actually sleep with her. And I never actually brought her here,” Jake admitted.
Now you were even more confused. “Then why did you let me think you did?”
“I wanted to make you jealous.”
Those words sent your heart racing and your head turning to him quickly, eyes wide. “What?”
“I know, it’s stupid. All those other girls didn’t work, so I went for your friend, and that’s not my proudest moment. When she tried to come onto me… I couldn’t go through with it. As pretty as she is, she has nothing on you.” His eyes bore into yours, making you feel nervous.
“I- I don’t understand. Why would you want to make me jeal-” Jake cut you off by placing his hand behind your neck and pulling you in for a searing kiss. Instead of freezing, you immediately melted into his touch. This was everything you wanted and more and it was finally happening.
He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against your own. His nose nudged yours gently. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Oh? Enlighten me,” you responded with a playful smile. Neither of you had pulled away, enjoying the closeness far too much. His hand moved to cup your cheek.
“Remember the first day we met?”
You groaned in embarrassment “How could I forget? Most embarrassing day of my life. Aside from the fact that it gave me you.”
He chuckled, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Bob tripped you on purpose.”
You pulled back in disbelief, not sure you heard him right. “I’m sorry, what? Bob? Sweet baby on board Robert Floyd tripped me?”
“The team kept pushing me to talk to you because they knew I found you attractive. I was too nervous to find a reason so when Nat ordered her drink and had you bring it to the table, Bob… tripped you. So that I’d have a reason to talk to you,” he confessed.
The story left you stunned but soon enough it had you laughing. “That little shit.”
“Hey, it worked didn’t it?” He countered.
“Only took a couple of years.” You shrugged playfully.
“Worth the wait.” He grinned and leaned in for another kiss. Your lips melded with his perfectly and your heart was racing. Everything about this was perfect and you never wanted it to end. He pulled away suddenly and you looked at him curiously.
“Wait. How long have you wanted this?” he questioned.
“Remember that first day we met?”
~~
While the two of you could have stayed at the lookout all night, Jake informed you that he tasked Bob with getting Peyton to your place. As much as you hated to leave, you needed to check in with him and make sure he was still alive.
Both of you pulled up to your house and quickly made your way inside. When you got in, Bob was sitting on the couch flipping through Netflix. He looked up briefly and smiled at your fingers laced together. “Oh hey, guys! Got everything sorted out?”
“Yeah…where’s Peyton?” you asked, noticing her stuff was gone.
He shrugged as you sat down next to him, Jake on the other side of you. “I told her to leave. She wasn’t too thrilled with Jake ditching her but a good friend would have been happy for you, and she was nowhere close. You deserve better than that.”
Your heart swelled and you leaned over to wrap him in a hug which he reciprocated. “Thank you.”
“Any time.”
You pulled away and lightly smacked him upside the head.
His hand went to rub to the back of his head and he looked at you confused. “What the hell was that for?”
“That’s for tripping me.”
Bob chuckled in realization. “Well I’d do it again if it meant getting you two idiots together.”
Jake hummed in agreement with a big grin on his face as he draped his arm around your shoulder. “Good thing you won’t have to. I’ve got exactly what I want now.”
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moni-logues · 29 days
Text
The Surface
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banner by @sailoryooons
Pairing: prince merman!Hoseok x sea witch!reader
Genre: fairytale AU/The Little Mermaid AU, smut
Summary: Prince Hoseok has only ever wanted one thing: to experience life on the Surface. You have only ever wanted Prince Hoseok. When he comes to you, desperate, claiming you are the only one who can help him, you decide to play along. You'll help him achieve his dream and maybe you'll satisfy your own dream, too.
Word count: 20k
Content: unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), Hoseok has sex with someone but he thinks they're someone else, if you're incredibly squeamish, there may be some body/pain stuff that makes you go 😖, potentially a litt yandere-vibed
A/N: Happy my birthday eve to you, dear reader!!!!! This is my very first toe-dip into the world of fantasy/spn!! AND my first collab!!!!! Pleeeeaaassseeee read the warnings (and please!!!! let me know if I'm missing any or any are insufficient). I'm so excited; I struggled with plotting this fic and working out how to get it to do what I wanted and thid is actually v3.0 lmao BUT I'm really happy with it! And happy to be part of the Make Me Your Villain collab!!! Thanks to @daechwitatamic for beta-ng and yelling!!!!
*
Hoseok swam farther than he ever had before. Swam closer. He’d be inching forward and now he was close enough to be spotted; he knew that. He knew that that was too far, but he didn’t really care.
The first time he swam in this direction and saw the shadows of small boats cross over him, he’d bolted in a panic. Merpeople were not to be spotted by humans. Ever. So he’d raced away, not looking back.
But then he had the knowledge that humans sailed there. He knew that that stretch of water played host to life above its surface, too. They were little boats, not the huge ships he usually tailed. These were much smaller, with handfuls of humans sitting in them, pointing in the distance, holding little boxes up to their faces and lowering them again. Visible. Watchable. It was tantalising.
So he went back. Hung around and waited for a while. Did it again. Watched a boat sail over him and eventually drop anchor near the cove. Went back a third time. Saw the humans jump from the side of the boat into the water. Hung back.
The next time, he swam closer. And the time after that, closer still.
That particular day, he had time. Lots of it. There was nothing calling for his attention, nothing tying him to any place, so he edged closer and a little closer, until he could see so clearly their spindly legs kicking ineffectually through the water, their weird feet and tiny toes. He had never seen humans so close before. He wondered if anyone had. They were fascinating. They dived down and kicked back up, their limbs moving in the water to keep them afloat. They turned on to their backs, looking just like seals from below. They squealed and laughed and talked and Hoseok watched it all with rapt attention. What he wouldn’t have given to approach one. To have made contact. To have asked them all his questions.
He wished he had someone to tell. Someone who would receive the information with not even wonder—his hopes were not that high—but interest. He didn’t have anyone to share his discoveries with, his treasures, his excitement. No one else understood. Some people thought he was weird; others thought his interest in the human world was downright wrong.
But his excitement was palpable that day, floating so close to the humans, he could hear their voices. He could even just about make out their words. And then their speech took on a more urgent tone; there was more frantic splashing, some flailing of limbs. He looked around himself and rose until his head bobbed out of the water. He watched the humans spin, searching for something, pointing this way and that way, calling to each other, looking.
He wanted to help but he didn’t know how. He dipped back into the water and skirted around the edge of the group – still unseen—and then it hit him. He had been so focused on the humans that he hadn’t seen it.
The rip tide tugged him sideways with a vicious spinning force. He was lucky, because he lived in the sea and this was far from his first rip. It might have taken him unawares, but he was able to right himself and spiral through to the other side.
That was when he saw what they must have been looking for.
The rip had tossed him out on the other side of a sharp, rocky outcrop on the west side of the cove. It jutted far out into the sea, sheltering the shore from western winds, and he saw a human woman struggling to the surface.
Her limbs were slow and her face kept dipping under the waves until eventually, she just floated, barely moving at all, moving only with the rhythm of the waves. Hoseok watched with dread and fear curdling the excitement in his stomach. She was too still now, her face too low in the water. Something wasn’t right. There was something unnatural about the way she was lying there, suspended in the water.
Hoseok didn’t think before he acted. He kicked his fins and swam to her, wrapping one arm around her torso and hiking her upwards so her face was out of the water. He dragged her, swimming backwards, towards the shore. He was grateful there was a shore; the other side of the cove had nothing but sheer cliffs and sharp rocks.
He didn’t know what he would do when he reached the shingle beach, but being on land had to help, didn’t it? Land was where the humans belonged.
Hoseok dragged her as far out of the water as he could manage—which wasn’t very far because his tail churned the stones and wouldn’t propel him forwards, so he dragged himself, as well as this human woman, until only her legs were splashed by the waves.
He looked down at her, anxiety churning in his gut. How did humans die? Was she already dead? The thought was nauseating. He knew humans had hearts like merpeople did, so he pressed his hand against her chest and felt nothing. He pressed a hand against his own chest. Felt nothing. He pressed his fingers against the large artery he knew ran down his front and felt nothing. He pressed them to his neck and almost felt something, moved them around until he found the spot at which he could feel his blood pushing against them. He immediately transferred his fingers to the same position on the woman and felt the same thing.
He let out a heavy breath. Relief. At least she wasn’t dead.
But she also wasn’t awake.
“Hello?” he called lightly. “Uh, hello? Are you ok?”
She remained unmoved, but he could barely hear himself over the pounding of his frantic heart; maybe he was too quiet? Maybe merpeople couldn’t make noise outside of the water? He tried again but it elicited no response.
He watched her carefully, listening, training his ears towards her, tuning out the roar of the waves and the squawk of seagulls and the distant sound of voices. He concentrated hard, breathing carefully to slow his own heart, to quiet the thump of it against his ribs and the rush of blood through his veins. There was a wet gurgle as her chest rose and fell, coming from her mouth, but sounding from deep inside. Hoseok knew humans breathed through their mouths, not having gills of their own. So he knew she was breathing.
She was both alive and breathing. He sighed with relief. He could let his worry go and lean into his fascination.
He had never seen a human like this. Close enough to touch—he had touched her. Her hair was the colour of the sun, even wet through; the curls stuck to her skin and Hoseok dared to reach out and brush them from her face. As he took his hand back, he noticed he was shaking. Drops of water on her skin sparkled like gems, glinting in the daylight. The sun was hot—far hotter than he’d ever felt it in the water—and bright. The heat of it burnt away the water on her skin almost too quickly to notice. Hoseok didn’t think she looked all that different from a mermaid, not really. The legs made a difference, sure; she had no gills in her ribs; the webbing in her fingers was reduced to nothing, each digit separated down to the palm. But really, what difference did those things make?
He thought her a wonder. He thought her the most beautiful, fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Her rosebud mouth, lips open and plump. Her skin was smooth and dark; he looked stark next to her. Her torso was whole, one expanse of skin stretching around her back and ribs. Hoseok placed a hand to his gills, fingers playing along the edge; they were flapping uselessly in the dry air. He smoothed them down with his hand, imagined his torso like hers, uninterrupted.
He lay with his tail next to her legs. He tried to picture it split in two, tried to picture himself walking on two feet, upright. He wasn’t the longest merman, but how did that compare to humans? The woman by his side seemed long—were all other humans, too? He figured he would probably never know and the rarity of this moment, the precarity of it, dented his enthusiasm a little. But, he reminded himself, for the rest of his life, he would have this. This human woman, lying next to him, seen by him, touched by him. He wondered how many other merpeople had done that.
He’d heard the horror stories, of course, the kind that teachers tell students to scare them away from the surface. He had never believed them, not entirely. There were bad humans, sure, but there were bad merpeople, too. And looking down at this human, this woman, he knew she was good. He felt a fluttering in his chest that made his breathing hitch. Made him feel almost breathless.
He wished she would wake up and see him. That wasn’t allowed, of course. It was absolutely forbidden to make your presence as a merman known to anyone who lived on the surface. But, who had to know? Just this once. Just this once, Hoseok could have his dream come true, couldn’t he?
She blinked once, then twice, and rolled over to cough and splutter, and he panicked. The tranquillity of the moment was gone. He heard the sound of seawater hitting stone as she choked and it spilt from her lips. He didn’t know what that meant. He watched her back heave as she coughed and was gripped by an intense fear. He wasn’t bad; he didn’t break the rules; he didn’t have the stomach for it.
He was diving in the water before she had rolled back, before she had a chance to see him or even notice him. He had disappeared before he’d even made the decision to disappear. Maybe that was close enough. So much for his wishes to be seen. He just wasn’t brave enough.
Back in the water, he shuddered and realised he could breathe again. With his heart rate finally slowing, he swam towards home, his mind pre-occupied with daydreams about coming back to this shore, seeing more humans, learning some more; pre-occupied with the panic and relief and adrenalin of his last ten minutes.
Pre-occupied as he was, he didn’t see that his movements were being tracked. He didn’t see a royal aide, following at a distance, and then moving off towards the royal chambers when they made it back to court.
He didn’t see you either, though you could see him.
* * *
His mother came to see him the following day.
“Hoseok,” she began, in the quiet, stern voice that had always scared him as a child. “Do you think your father and I are stupid?”
He blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that and couldn’t see the reason behind it. That worried him. He was walking into a trap.
“No, of course not,” he answered, honestly.
“Then it will not surprise you if I say that we do know where it is you go in these waters.”
His blood turned to ice.
“We are all very well aware of your... interest in the surface. In humans and all their detritus.”
He opened his mouth to argue back but the expression on his mother’s face stopped him.
“We know you hunt out shipwrecks and follow boats along trade routes, searching the carcasses of their vessels for rubbish, hoping and waiting they might drop something valuable. We know how close you have got, Hoseok, to exposing yourself to the humans.”
He gulped. He knew he was in trouble. Probably a lot of trouble. He didn’t know what his punishment would be.
“We are not going to permit this any longer.”
That rankled. He was almost 21. An adult in any world. Permission? He found his voice.
“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to go anywhere.”
“You’re a prince, Hoseok, of course you need permission. And you no longer have it. So Sebastien will accompany you through your days for the time being, to ensure you do not go where you should not.”
“For the time being? How long is that exactly?”
His mother looked at him, impassive.
“For as long as your father and I tell him to.”
Then she swam away without bothering to say goodbye. Hoseok didn’t have any time to react before Sebastien was by his side.
“Good morning, my prince.”
Hoseok bit back a spiky retort and swam away, with Sebastien following at his fins. His mother couldn’t be serious. He was being chaperoned? It was an indignity. It was infantilising. It was entirely unnecessary. He flexed his hands into fists and out again, balling and stretching as he swam, as he carried on in his head the argument he wished he could have had with his mother. This would not do.
As he realised where he was swimming—with his new bodyguard—he stopped suddenly. He had been inadvertently leading Sebastien to his happy place, his treasure trove, the place where he kept all the so-called ‘human detritus’ he saved. He was sure his parents didn’t know about that and he didn’t want them finding out.
He swam away, ignoring Sebastien chatting idly at his side, and wondered just exactly what his parents knew. Had they seen him save that human woman? Had they seen how close he had come to being discovered? Is that what this was all about?
* * *
Hoseok looked miserable. Oh, he was smiling, and you were sure he was saying all the right things. But you knew. He was not enjoying his birthday party. There was nothing dazzling in his smile, no halo of light around his head. His laughter rang out, hollow and pitchy, not at all like the tumbling bells it usually was.
No, the prince was miserable. You were sure of it. You had noticed that he had been followed—was being followed—by one of the court’s highest-ranking aides; you saw him behind the prince at every turn, like a shadow, like a ghost. Maybe that was the problem.
You had been close as children, you and the prince, for a time. In that period when you were free, when society meant nothing to you, when prejudices and family feuds still hovered above your heads, out of reach. You had been friends and you felt it then, too, his brightness, his warmth. He didn’t care that the adults treated your family poorly; he did care that they treated you poorly. He didn’t know or care about what the adults said; neither did you. You were friends, the two of you, thick as thieves.
Then one day, all that hovered above you came tumbling down, pouring over you both like ice-water. It became more difficult then, to spend time together, to be friends. He never outright said it, broke up with you in a friend kind of way. You just ‘drifted apart’ because he was welcomed in where you were shunned; he was celebrated and everyone did their best to forget you ever existed.
You should have expected it. He was the prince, after all. And you were a sea witch. People said you were evil; the rumour had it that your whole family was. Matriarchal, and that was just the first problem. You had power. Your mother had had it. Your aunt. Their mother. The way you were told, it went back right to the very beginning. You were the latest in a very long line of very powerful witches.
It took you a long time to understand why that was used against you. You had power. Wasn’t that a good thing? You could do magic. You could achieve things no one else could. You could have made the entire sea a better place for everyone and everything living in it. But no one wanted your input; no one wanted to listen, to hear you. They wanted you to stay quiet. They wanted you to hide.
What boiled your blood was that you did. You stayed at the back, hid yourself away in a cave far from where the royal court lived: merpeople in coral towers and you, tangled in seaweed every time you so much as shook your head. You were older now and you knew full-well why they did it.
They were scared of you. They had always been scared of your family, but now, since the ‘tragic’ death of your mother, they were scared of you. Because you had a score to settle. Because you had a reason to hate them. You had vengeance on your mind.
Vengeance and Prince Hoseok.
Because no matter how much you hated it, no matter how much you didn’t want to want him, you did. You looked at him and your chest hurt with longing and your stomach roiled with hatred. How could it be that you could feel two things at once for the same person? You chose not to examine it these days. It had gone on too long and you were used to it. It felt like your natural state of being: hatred and love in equal measure. Fear and power.
No one had ever tested you. Not really. People came to you for silly little things like love potions and spells to make them smarter or charms to ward off hermit crabs from their gardens. No one wanted to see the full extent of your abilities. So you didn’t quite know what they were.
You toiled, testing yourself on little creatures, to see what you could do to them, how much you could transform them, how creative you could get. There had been a lot of failures at first, of course. So many. But then you started to succeed. And now you never failed. Everything you turned your hand to worked. Your mother had always said you were a natural and now you believed it, too.
You thought you could turn yourself into one of them if you wanted. Not that you did want. Never. Ever. You wouldn’t debase yourself, wouldn’t shame your ancestors with an attempt. But you could do it. That much you were confident of.
You were also confident of just how well you knew the prince. Better than he knew, you were sure. He probably didn’t realise quite what an open book he was to you. It was an open secret that he had a thing for life on the surface, but you saw so much more than that. He had never been able to hide from you: his enthusiasm, his wonder, his furtive glances around himself, the swift flick of his tail as he snuck between two large boulders, the fluidity and flexibility of his body the only things enabling him to sneak through. His little collection. Though ‘little’ wasn’t really the word for it, not anymore.
You had been to see it just once before. It was almost enough to impress you. His discoveries, his treasures, were displayed with such care, it almost touched you. These things, this tat, that he had found floating on the surface or buried in the seabed, he loved them. He treated them like something precious, not like the trash it so clearly was to the humans. It made your heart ache a little: his naivety, his innocence, his propensity for flights of fancy, his dreamy insistence on seeing the good in things, in people. In humans.
It was an open secret, this obsession of Hoseok’s, but it concerned his parents. Sure, he was only the youngest of seven sons—he wasn’t the heir—but he was still a prince. That made him valuable and important. It also meant he had to keep up appearances and it simply would not do to have a Prince of the Royal Court enamoured with... up there. So they had instructed one of their aides (a creeping, odious merman whom you avoided like the plague) to follow Hoseok around, to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into trouble.
Yes, you nodded to yourself, that was exactly what had happened.
*
Hoseok was getting sick of being followed around. It wasn’t even just that he couldn’t go to the surface; he couldn’t get a single minute of peace! Sebastien was always there and it was starting to grate quite uncomfortably.
He wasn’t enjoying the party and he was getting tired of pretending to enjoy it, so after taking a quick scan of the room, he turned tail and left. Sebastien followed, but Hoseok chose to ignore him.
“Leaving a party early?” you said lightly, as you caught him leaving the room. “Leaving your own party early? That’s not like you.”
His smile was a little tight when he flashed it your way.
“It’s only my party by technicality. No one will miss me.”
You merely raised your eyebrows slightly and raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
“I notice that you are also leaving,” he countered.
“Ah, once the host leaves, everyone else is free to go.”
His brow wrinkled a little and he scoffed.
“Don’t call me the host.”
“Careful,” you joked, “Sebastien here might tell your parents you’re being ungrateful. Look at all this opulence they prepared for you.”
He was about to spit something not entirely kind back at you before he realised that you were taking the piss. He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself. Of course you didn’t care. You never went in for this stuff anyway. He was surprised you had even shown up.
“I am being ungrateful. I would like them to stop looking out for me, stop doing things for me, stop-” he said, coming to such a sudden halt that Sebastien crashed into the back of him, “having me chaperoned like a child just because I like to swim a little farther than others.”
“I’m not sure it’s the distance they’re worried about.”
“Whatever. They just don’t get it. They think it’s dangerous.”
“What is?”
“The surface. Humanity. They think my collecting scraps from the seabed is somehow going to threaten all undersea life, trigger an apocalypse or something.”
“Ah.”
“They just don’t get it. They don’t get it. It’s not like I’m going to go up there and act like I’m human-”
“No? You could.”
He scoffed.
“Oh yeah, just go and flop around on the beach with my tail and my gills and everything. Great idea.”
“... You know I’m a fucking witch, right? I literally have the technology.”
Hoseok stopped suddenly again, looking at you, a little aghast, a little trepidatious. Then he laughed.
“Yeah, sure, one human coming right up!”
You laughed along with him, letting the subject drop, letting it be a joke. It had to be a joke with Sebastien listening in. But you were serious and you needed Hoseok to understand that you could do it. If he asked.
* * *
You thought about it more in the following days, as you watched the prince and his tormentor float around in the water. Hoseok couldn’t even blink without Sebastien there to watch him. You could feel his frustration, his impatience; you could see the dullness diminishing his shine; you could see the time it took for his lips to stretch into his signature heart-shaped smile expand—sometimes they barely made it at all. Was it the annoyance and inconvenience of having a chaperone in itself, or was he pining for a little adventure? Itching for a treasure hunt, fingers twitching to dig through sand and find something broken and useless to take back to his cave of wonders?
The whole sea knew. The prince was being monitored. The prince was being kept on a lead. A short one. There were whispers and gossip and speculation. The worst of these rumours was the one that told you his parents were doing this to get him ready for marriage. That he had been betrothed to a princess in the Caspian sea since before he had even existed and now they had both come of age, the marriage negotiations could begin in earnest.
That would not do. You could not have that.
Your own fingers were twitching; you were as frustrated as the prince, trying to work out a way to expedite this whole thing, to get things moving.
Someone’s hand would have to be forced, you realised. But whose? And to do what?
*
It hit you, quite suddenly, as you were drifting off to sleep one night. You had been picturing Hoseok amongst all his ‘objet d’art’: his happy face, his preening and polishing, his voice ringing out in a sweet, little tune—the one you liked to catch in your shells and store for later. It was obvious.
With each day that passed, the prince’s frustration grew. As did his misery and his little, daydreamy desires to experience life on the surface. With each day that passed, his parents were obliviously telling themselves that Hoseok was forgetting about it. He was integrating better with his peers, no longer always off on his own adventure; he was finally getting over this little ‘phase’.
It, actually, you thought to yourself as you caught the fleeting idea with a snatched hand, would work out quite nicely after all. You just had to be careful about tipping the scale.
*
Sebastien wasn’t stupid (you couldn’t get to his position if you were), but he wasn’t exactly sharp. You engaged him in a little idle chat while the prince was dining with his family. Commented on the prince’s interest in life ex-marina. Sebastien had responded a little too eagerly, sharing a little too much (not that he knew he was doing it—not sharp) so it was very easy for you to drop in that you had noticed the prince hadn’t been visiting his little shrine much recently. Sebastien played off his reaction so terribly that, even had you not been so perspicacious, it would have been clear he was bluffing, that you knew far more than he did and he was embarrassed by it. You shrugged, as if the conversation meant nothing to you, and glided away, certain that the seed had been planted.
All you had to do now was wait for it to sprout.
*
It took even less time than you expected. The sea over the next couple of days was a flurry of anxious activity. No official word had gone out, but something was happening and everyone knew it. Aides were everywhere, in every corner, under every rock, in every reef. The king and queen had an awful lot of staff at their disposal, so it wasn’t long before one of them turned up something very interesting indeed.
It was even quicker that the King stormed down to the prince’s little cave of wonders to give Hoseok what for.
You hung back and watched. Watched Hoseok’s face as it moved from dismay to anger, to fury. You had never heard him angry like that. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It was, you hated to admit it, sexy. He swam forward and you heard him confront his parents, heard his outrage.
But how his father roared. How he hovered above Hoseok, his youngest child, with a face like thunder. How his shouting rippled through the water, carrying it farther than you were sure he’d have wanted.
Hoseok put up a good fight, but he had no power. He wasn’t the heir; he had no leverage, not really. So, his father took his trident and destroyed everything. Even the very cave itself. It was rubble by the time he turned his back on his son and swam away. It was sand. Hoseok was left staring at what used to be his most prized possessions, his secret joy.
It almost hurt when you saw his face, his distress and despair. You watched him sink to the seabed and sob, then you turned around and swam away. You didn’t want to watch that. You didn’t need to. You just had to hope that it worked like you intended.
You slunk back to your cave—your presence having never been noticed—and waited for the prince to come to you.
*
Hoseok knew they were just things. He knew they were things most people would consider rubbish, garbage, trash, waste. But they weren’t rubbish to him. They were prizes. They were trophies. They were secrets. They were hints of another life, another way of living. They were like the key to a code. If he collected enough, maybe he would understand what life on the surface was like. Maybe once he had enough human things, he would be able to experience Personhood by proxy.
He had always known he would never go there. Could never go there. It just wasn’t done. Not even for a prince. Especially not for a prince. But his parents couldn’t order him to stop dreaming. So he dreamt and he collected and he treasured. He knew no one approved of what they called his ‘obsession’ with the surface. He didn’t care. They didn’t understand. They didn’t see what he could. They were so entrenched in their own, bigoted ideas that they couldn’t open their minds for a second to the possibility that maybe humans weren’t so bad. Maybe they had their problems, but they also had their wonders.
Even outside of his personal curiosity, he had always thought that some sort of treaty with the humans would be advantageous. They were lucky, in his sea, that the water was kept mostly clear, that oil spills only reached them as news. Their unfavourable interactions with humans were limited, but Hoseok knew that wasn’t the case elsewhere. He thought, if they could communicate with them, that maybe agreements could be reached. A relationship with the world on the surface could be mutually beneficial.
No one else saw it that way.
He sat on the sand and wept, cried, sobbed, for his secret little things that were no more. No longer secret and no longer there. He scooped up fragments of them in his hand and let them drift back down. He sifted through rocks and pebbles and sand to see if anything had been left intact, if anything was salvageable. But his father was thorough. And powerful. And there was nothing left.
* * *
The flurry of activity stopped and was replaced by an awkward tension. No one had seen the prince since the argument with the king. No one dared approach either king or queen, not even the other princes. People moved so slowly through the water, as if they were scared to cause too much of a ripple. The rhythm of everything had been upset.
For no one more than the prince. He lay on the sand next to what used to be his happy place for hours, until the sea grew dark and he should have been back at home with his family. The very thought made him sick. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The thought of seeing his parents again made bile rise in his throat. His blood boiled with an anguished kind of anger he had never experienced before.
Once he had stopped crying, he spent some time staring around in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that all his things were gone, but he also couldn’t believe that his father had done it. The royal family was a Happy Family, officially, but they were also usually happy in actual fact. Arguments were few. Discord uncommon. There had been little cause for friction amongst them in his life. He wasn’t used to this. He and his brothers fought as kids, but never seriously; no one ever tried to rebel in any meaningful kind of way. It was a peaceful kingdom and that peace started at the very top.
Or so it had been. Even that had been destroyed now. Peace was the very last thing on the prince’s mind. He was torn between his anger and his despair. He wanted to hurt his father, very badly. He wanted to show his father that he wouldn’t let this stop him, that not even the King could break him. He knew he was right about humans, about humanity. He would show him. He also wanted, with a kind of frenzied desperation, to set off over the oceans and retrieve a new artefact for each and every one that he’d just lost.
As time passed and the sun disappeared from overhead, his whirring mind, his racing heart, began to slow and a tiny spark of hope burst in him. There was a way, he had realised. Or, he thought there might be a way. There was a possibility. There might be a possibility. If anyone would have the answer, it would be you.
*
He called your name and it roused you from a mid-morning nap. You sauntered to the cave mouth and your face pulled into surprise at the sight of him.
“Prince Hoseok, what are you doing here?”
He looked a little hesitant, peering behind you at the darkness of the cave, wondering what lay back there, if all the rumours were true. He knew you. You had been close at one point. He knew you so this was fine. He could trust you; he knew he could. You weren’t going to hurt him. You weren’t like they said. Well, in one way, he hoped you were; he hoped you were every bit as powerful as people said because, lord knew, he was going to need some powerful magic. Powerful magic the likes of which could topple the royal family, people said. What care did he have for the royal family now?
 But, the evil part... He hoped that wasn’t true. You’d never given him cause to believe so before.
Still, waiting at the entrance to your home (your ‘lair’ as some called it and Hoseok was never sure if they were joking or not), he felt timid. Small. Not like a royal prince, but like a supplicant. Which, really, he supposed, he was.
“I’m here to ask you to do something for me.”
You couldn’t deny your intrigue. You gestured for him to follow you inside.
He did so slowly, his eyes darting around at all your shelves, full of stuff, fuller even than his own treasure trove had been. He couldn’t imagine what might be in all the containers, what secrets or tonics or poisons they might be holding. He had no idea what it was you did, really. You were the Sea Witch and that was bad enough for most people to never ask anything more... Until they needed you, of course. Hoseok had never needed you, not until now, so he had never paid your work much attention. You flew under the radar for the most part, which was entirely by design.
“Ok,” you said, as you perched yourself on a soft bed of anemones that Hoseok didn’t dare touch. “What can I do for you?”
He took a deep breath, a steeling breath.
“I want to be human.”
You pretended to be surprised, but that was exactly what you had been hoping for. Only an idiot would have been surprised by his request, especially given what had just happened.
“Human, huh? Finally pulling the trigger?”
He looked reluctant to say any more. You raised one eyebrow at him and held his gaze. He looked away.
“My parents don’t understand a thing. They don’t know anything about humans. I want to know. I have to know. They-... My parents can’t control me.”
You shrugged and nodded and caught the look of surprise on Hoseok’s face as you turned to gather some ingredients from the other side of the cave. He hadn’t thought it would be that easy.
It wouldn’t be.
You gathered the necessary items and tipped first one, then another, into the large conch you used for mixing spells.
“You... you can do it?” he asked and you chose not to be offended by the question.
“Of course I can.”
“You... will do it?”
“I will.”
The relieved smile on his face could have lit your cave for weeks. His teeth shone and his eyes sparkled as he laughed and clapped his hands. Victory.
“Thank you! I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sunshine. There are conditions to all this, you know.”
His face settled back into seriousness, his brow knitting above his eyes. He nodded fervently.
“Yes, of course. I understand. What do I need to do?”
You paused, leaning one hand on the edge of your giant shell and looked at him with a firm, fixed stare.
“You get three days,” you told him. “Three days as a human. You’ll be human before lunch, so noon on the third day will see you turning back as you are now.”
“Oh.”
His disappointment was palpable, but that worked to your advantage, too. You forced a light chuckle.
“I’m good, Hoseok, but I’m not that good.”
(You were, in fact, that good, but he didn’t need to know that).
“Of course! Yes, three days. That’s great.”
“There is a way you can stay longer than that, but it’s not in my power.”
“What does that mean?”
You pushed off the ledge and rounded the basin, coming to a stop in front of him. You didn’t miss the two inches that he scooted backwards away from you. At a different time, under different circumstances, this might have offended you, but you had a reputation; you could hardly blame him for his timidity. He had never seen you do anything like this before.
“You have to put down roots.”
“Right... What does that mean?”
“You have to find a human woman and plant a seed.”
Hoseok continued to look at you blankly, until you rolled your eyes.
“Fornicate. Copulate. Mate. Breed. Fuck.”
His eyebrows shot towards his hairline.
“Oh... Within three days?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No!” His answer was too quick and his blushes beetroot. He cleared his throat. “No, it’s fine, but... You said plant a seed. You mean... a child?”
“Mhmm.”
He blinked, his mind reeling. You gave him a second to process.
“How do I guarantee that? It has to be a child? There has to be... it has to...?”
You nodded.
“If you want to stay up there, you need some connection to it. You need a tether. Just how it works.”
“Oh, right...”
He was nodding, but he wasn’t looking at you. You could see his eyes were far away; he was thinking.
He was worrying. Would three days be enough? And bringing a child into this? Could he? Doubt was beginning to creep in at the sides, but he couldn’t let it. He had to see this through. It felt like his only chance. And you’d already said yes. You could do it. He could almost taste it, he was so close. He had to keep going. He could deal with the seed problem later; he could hardly think about putting down roots when he didn’t even have legs to stand on. First things first and the first thing was becoming a human.
“There’s also something else I need from you,” you told him.
“Anything.”
“I just need a little piece of you. In order to make this work, I need a little tether to you.”
“You need to tether to me? But doesn’t that keep me tied here?”
You liked it when they asked questions. You smiled, benignly, but your eyes glinted wickedly.
“It keeps you tethered to me, the one with the magic? The one who’s transforming you? We can skip that step if you like, but then the spell will do absolutely nothing.”
“Oh.”
He blinked and then nodded.
“Ok, makes sense. Yeah, ok, what do you need?”
“Come here.”
You beckoned him to your side and he obeyed quietly. You took his hand in yours and plunged it into the shell; then you placed your other hand on his chest.
“Hold still; this won’t hurt.”
“What are you taking?”
“Just a little bit of soul.”
He flinched and you had to tighten your fingers around his wrist to keep it there.
“Relax, you won’t even notice it missing. And keep still, I need to concentrate.”
You closed your eyes and tapped lightly on his chest with your fingers, looking for a tap. Once you found the spot, you dug your finger in a little harder, focused hard and turned it on. You channelled it through Hoseok’s arm and tipped it into the shell through his fingers.
You were right: it didn’t hurt. He felt a weird pulling sensation in his chest and then it dragged down his arm; it was a little uncomfortable, certainly something he’d never felt before, but it didn’t hurt exactly. He wanted to look and see what his soul looked like, pouring out, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.
His soul was sweet like nectar and it shimmered as it settled atop the other ingredients. You could feel its pulse, strong in Hoseok’s heart, its rhythm airy and delicate with a stable bass. You liked it. You liked it a lot. You could feel your own shimmer in response to it; you could feel your heart flutter when you let a little of him inside it. You bit your lip to stop a smile. Once you had what you needed for the spell, you siphoned off just a little extra for yourself. Nothing he would notice – you were always careful about that.
You held him there a minute longer, just absorbing, marinating a little. Sometimes this was the worst part of the job. Some people’s souls were vile, horrid, dark, acrid, smoking things; the taste they left in your mouth wouldn’t shift for days. This, though, was delectable. If you’d had another plan in mind, you might have taken more, maybe even all of it; you weren’t sure how you managed to stop yourself.
You shouldn’t have been surprised by its sweetness. It was Hoseok. He was like that. Of course his soul would be pure as sunlight itself. It was the lightest soul you’d ever held. Almost light enough to make you feel bad for doing all this.
Almost.
“Ok,” you began, letting him go and creating a little more space between you. “We’re done.”
Hoseok opened his eyes and looked down at his tail.
“We are?”
You laughed, not unkindly.
“Yes. You might want to start swimming while I finish this off. Surface is a long way up from here.”
“Oh. But... it’ll work? I’ll be...-”
“It’ll work. Trust me. And take this.”
You thrust a little package, wrapped in fisherman’s netting, into his hands.
“Now go on. Get.”
He nodded, first a little uncertainly, but, as if he was convincing himself, each bob of his head grew surer until he was turning around and swimming straight out of your cave and up, up, up.
You gave everything in the shell a swirl, a mix, let it coalesce, then you placed your hands on the bottom and forced heat through them, so much heat that the concoction boiled, the sea water steaming around you. It bubbled and it boiled until there was nothing left in the shell but a pearl. You picked up this pearl and placed it into a clam. You shut the clam over a cord and tied it around your neck. You were going to want to keep this one close.
*
Hoseok was swimming so hard he barely noticed it at first. Then his tail was tingling. Then it began to hurt. Hurt enough to slow him down, to almost stop him completely. It was a wrenching, tearing, searing kind of pain that made him cry out, that made dark spots dance in front of his eyes and his head feel light. He couldn’t quite tell if his tail was moving or not; there was blinding pain and very little else, but he knew he was getting close to the surface. He couldn’t stop now.
In the space of three kicks, his tail became two, and Hoseok was overwhelmed by the agony of saltwater in his wounds. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t look, couldn’t do anything but try not to die. Try not to drown. He kept kicking, kept pulling with his arms, but his fingers were no longer webbed and they didn’t grab the water like before.
Swimming as a human, it turned out, was every bit as inefficient as it looked. He tried to move his legs in tandem, to kick and flick like he did with his tail but they wouldn’t cooperate; they couldn’t bend like his tail could, didn’t have the flexibility. Every movement sent a fresh surge of pain racing through him and he was finding it hard to breathe through it.
And then he stopped being able to breathe at all. He clutched at his ribs with one hand, expecting to feel his gills, but there was nothing. He opened his mouth to gasp and his throat was full of salt water in a way that felt wrong, uncomfortable, painful. In a way that made him panic. His lungs were burning, his throat was burning, his legs were burning; everything, everything, felt like it was on fire.
His heart was humming, beating so fast it vibrated against his ribs. He couldn’t think clearly, coherently, at all. It was all just a screaming panic, shouting and squealing and howling for him to get out, get out, get out of the water.
When he finally broke clear of the sea’s surface, he choked and gasped and coughed up water. It stung in his eyes and the taste of salt was so strong, it made him gag. He looked about himself to find the nearest shore and saw none in sight. He knew where he was; he saw the sea, his underwater kingdom, in his mind and he knew how to find the nearest shore. He just had to get there.
*
He dragged himself out of the waves, spent. There wasn’t a single muscle in his body that wasn’t crying out; he had never found swimming difficult before. It had always been as easy as breathing, but that, too, was difficult as a human. He swallowed seawater that made him sick, accidentally breathed it in and choked, found his breathing growing laboured and heavy when he was still miles from shore.
He lay on the shingle beach for a while, waiting to feel something other than pain. Pain and heaviness. Every movement was an effort. Every movement took active thought, especially his legs. He pushed himself into a sitting position and turned his attention to the package you gave him. He unwrapped it and unfolded fabrics—soaked through, of course. Hoseok had seen people wear clothes in books before but he’d never seen any in real life. He wondered where on earth you got them from. He briefly wondered if he wanted to know.
And despite everything: the pain, the exhaustion, the fear, the dread that was starting to settle in his stomach as the adrenalin faded, Hoseok was excited. He had human garments in his hands. They were his and he was about to wear them. He was human.
Human.
*
The awe and wonder didn’t last long. The friction of the fabric against his skin was almost unbearable. Was his skin sensitive or were the fabrics rough? He couldn’t tell but he could feel each tiny swish, each brush against him as he moved, with every swing of his arm and every step of his feet. It felt like the top layer of his skin was being slowly rubbed away, his soft, supple skin becoming red and raw and oh so sensitive.
The steps hurt, too. The shingle under his feet felt almost pleasant compared to the torching pain he felt in his legs. Like they were being cut open every time, like he was splitting his tail over and over and over again, the torture wouldn’t end.
He felt so heavy. Leaden. Like he barely had the energy to lift his feet at all. He put this down to the swim, the physical trauma, the lack of sleep he’d had that night. But he’d never felt the weight of his body so heavily before. In the water, he floated. The water kept him buoyed; the water supported him, carried him; he moved through it like he weighed nothing at all. On land, he felt no support. On the contrary, he felt as if the air itself were pushing him down, keeping him stuck to the ground, as if it didn’t want him to move anywhere.
It wasn’t at all like he had expected. He wished you had warned him about the pain. He wished he had known a little more before walking into this – literally walking! He was walking! On two feet! It was agony.
Trying to keep his head straight, he knew the first thing he should do was find food. He’d swum so far, he needed something. His stomach was gurgling in an angry, acidic roil that made him feel faint (or maybe that was the pain or the exertion or the atmosphere or or or). He was lucky that this beach was narrow and the town close. The shingle quickly gave way to grass, which was only slightly soothing on Hoseok’s feet, and then the grass gave way to paving.
He followed the path in the only direction it went and it wasn’t long before he found people. Humans. So many of them. He stood, stock still, watching them. It was overwhelming. The sights and sounds and smells of them. There was food grilling, and children laughing, and market hawkers soliciting, and Hoseok had no idea which way to turn. He could barely think at all. He needed-
He didn’t know what. A rest. A break. To sit down? He walked to the nearest chair – a metal frame with metal seat, next to a metal table – and sat; the chair scraped backwards slightly and the scratch of it on the ground brought a man out from the cafe the chair was sitting in front of.
“Hey, you can’t sit there!” the man called, looking none too happy. “Customers only! Those chairs are for customers only!”
“Oh, oh ok,” Hoseok spluttered. “I can be a customer. I can buy, uh-”
“No! We’re not open yet! No service!”
Hoseok thought then that it should be fine for him to sit down if they weren’t open, if there were no customers yet, but the man continued to shout, to shoo him off, so Hoseok stood and moved away. He would just have to try again a little further down the road.
That cafe might not have been open, but there were market stalls with edible wares already cooked and out for consumption. He took a skewer proffered by a weathered old lady and ate it gratefully, even though it was dry and hard to chew. She then held her hand out expectantly and it was at that moment, Hoseok realised he had nothing to trade. What could he offer? He considered the neat, net package that you had provided his clothes in and brought it out of his pocket. He tried to hand it over but the woman started cursing at him in a language he didn’t understand. He backed away from her aggression and this was clearly the wrong move. She grabbed a large metal spoon and came around the side of her table, raising it above her head.
Hoseok ran. He hadn’t known he could run. Would have claimed not to be able to if you’d asked him to at that moment, but the panic set him going and his feet stomped, painful step after painful step, until he was, once more, breathing heavy and laboured, a sharp pain between his ribs stabbing him with every inhale.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
*
He eventually sat at the side of the road, wondering how he was supposed to navigate this world he clearly knew nothing about. He had been arrogant in the sea. He thought he knew everything there was to know about humans. He had learnt about their culture, he thought; he had studied their ways of life, he thought. It was nothing compared to the real experience of being here. Nothing was how he expected. He was woefully unprepared.
Tears pricked in his eyes and he tried to keep them at bay because he had wanted this. He had asked for it. And you had done it for him. Hoseok realised with a shock just exactly what position this had put you in. The prince was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t told anyone what he was doing. The only person who knew was you. If they found that out, lord knew what kind of trouble you’d be in. They’d have your head if they thought you had brought him to any harm.
But you’d been willing. Supportive even. So he had to make this work. He had to make it worth it. For him. For you. He would make it work and he would return to the sea to explain everything: to show what he had achieved on the surface, to prove to everyone that humans weren’t like they all said. To prove that you had been the truest, kindest and most loyal friend he had. That you had given him all of it. That you weren’t like they all said, either.
He blew out a deep breath. There was a lot riding on this.
He knew he would eventually need somewhere to sleep, somewhere safe. He walked back towards the centre of the market and found a nice-looking woman selling necklaces.
“Excuse me,” he began, warily. “I need somewhere to stay.”
Her friendly smile faltered a little, frozen on her face as she tried to parse his words.
“Ok?” she finally returned.
“Can you tell me where I can... Is there somewhere I can sleep?”
“Uh,” she said, her face twisting into a kind of confusion that Hoseok felt he was being judged by. “I mean, you can get a hotel or something?”
“Ok, where do I get one?”
The woman looked around her, to see if anyone else was really hearing this. She shrugged.
“There are kind of a lot around. Take your pick. There’s one right there.”
She pointed over Hoseok’s shoulder at a white, stone building, and Hoseok’s smile was all the bigger for the relief he felt.
“Thank you!” he called, already making his way towards the hotel.
But things continued to be difficult. He didn’t have a ‘credit card’ for the hotel staff to ‘hold’. He didn’t know what that meant. They told him he couldn’t have a room if he had no method of payment. He tried to offer something else; he was a good swimmer, he said; he could dive for pearls? The two staff behind the reception desk gave each other the same look the woman on the stall had given him. They explained that they only took cash or credit. He didn’t have either of those two things.
He left the building and sat by the road, because there was nothing else he could do.
He tried so hard not to let doubt creep in, not to feel despair, not to start desperately wishing he had thought about this a little longer. He tried to remember things he’d learnt about the human world – things that would help him. But it was already so different here from what he had expected.
The stories he had grown up hearing about human interactions with his kind were awful; humans were brutal and cruel and hunted merpeople for sport. That kind of thing. But he thought they were kind to each other. They had a society. They governed each other: elected officials who were entrusted with their cities and countries. They made art and sang songs and raised animals whom they kept for companionship, rather than labour. Humans were resilient and tough and brave, social creatures. They came together in crisis and performed heroic feats to help others out of danger. Those were the humans he had imagined.
The ones he had experienced so far were not like that at all. Maybe they knew, he thought; maybe they could tell already somehow that he wasn’t one of them. He was different. He hadn’t even been a human for a day yet. Maybe he was doing things wrong. He was sure he wasn’t walking right—the pain made it impossible. He had shown up from the beach in clothes that had barely dried, were caked in salt. His hair was stiff and tangled with it, too. His face felt tight and rough. Maybe they were right to mistrust him.
But how could he fix it? What could he do?
He couldn’t stay there, sitting on the ground. People walking past were looking at him; it made him nervous. No one had been able to show him any generosity or kindness and the darkness of night was starting to cover everything. There were artificial lights hanging from every door, a warm glow from every window that served only to bathe the shadows in a dim, greyish light. Nothing was black, as it was in the deep ocean, but it was all muted, hard to make out, indeterminate. Scarier.
He had to get out of sight. He had to find somewhere safe that he could stay for the night. That was the most important thing.
As hot as it had been when he first arrived on the surface, he could feel the chill now. There was something naked about being out in the air, with no water surrounding him, enveloping him. Even through the fabric of his clothes (which still scored his skin with every movement), he felt the air move, felt it stiffen his skin and raise the downy hairs there. He needed shelter. He needed to be far away from people, for now. He needed to be sure that, if what the merpeople said was true, he would not come to harm this night.
It was with a heavy, sinking heart that he made his way back to the beach. He fell upon the shingle and didn’t even have the energy to cry out, to sob like he wanted to. He had never experienced pain or exhaustion like this. He had never felt so out of place—not just in this world, but in this body. Did all humans feel like this? Heavy and sore and stiff, with the world pushing down on you? His legs were still screaming; they were as unblemished and unmarked as they had been when he’d first checked them twelve hours ago, but the pain was so convincing, he thought he would look down and see his tail, mutilated, bloody, split in two just like he’d asked. 
He made his way very slowly, very carefully, to the end of the beach and the edge of the shore. With the cliffside to his right, there was protection from wind, at least, and it was deserted of people. He shuffled forward and sat with his legs straight out, letting the waves wash over his feet.
That was when he cried. He cried with abandon, without thought, without hope, with an aching, broken heart. He couldn’t quite believe that it was happening this way, that all of his dreams were crumbling in front of his eyes. He wouldn’t believe it; there was good in this world and he was determined to find it, but he had never felt so out of his depth. He had no idea what to do. He had no one, nowhere, nothing.
He looked at the waves as they splashed over his feet (feet!) and he imagined sinking into them, imagined them encroaching further and further onto the shore until he was swallowed up by them, swimming, drowning. Could he drown? He was human now and humans could drown, but he was really a mermaid... Would the magic revert? He remembered what you had said about keeping a tether to him; would you know if he were drowning? Could you see him now, pathetic and weeping?
You could. With his pearl at the bottom of your basin, you could conjure up his image and watch his drama play out in the rippling water.
But the sight didn’t bring you much joy. You worried that you had overestimated him, overestimated the humans. You had spent time on the surface but it was still a foreign world; you didn’t know everything. Maybe you should have prepared him a little more, lent him a little of your human currency. You had expected his grace and charm to carry him at least through the first night but he was a different person now. Well, he was a person, not a merman anymore. He was literally out of his element. A fish out of water.
You chuckled to yourself at that one. Then you frowned and rested your chin on your palm, pondering ways that you could make this work if he couldn’t do it on his own. You fingered the clamshell on your necklace and an idea started to form.
It could work. It wasn’t how you had envisaged this whole thing going but... It could work.
With a sigh, you placed the pearl safely back in its clam and floated off to your inventory: a powder there, some shellfish here, gathering together everything needed for yet another expensive spell.
If you need something doing, you thought to yourself ruefully, you’ve got to do it yourself.
* * *
Hoseok was starting to shiver on the shore—something that he had never experienced before and something he would be quite happy to not experience again. The way his muscles trembled and his skin hurt, still raw from the fabric, but bumpy now with goosebumps that made the friction all the worse. He took his feet out of the water and asked himself forlornly what on earth he should do, but he had no answer.
He scanned the horizon out to sea and saw nothing but washed-out darkness looking back at him. He scanned the beach and the land and his attention was caught by a light, wobbling in the darkness and growing larger. It was only when the person holding the lantern stepped foot on the beach that he could see there was a person behind it at all. If he had been less tired, less sad, less hungry, he might have worried, or he might have rallied and put his best foot (foot!) forward, or he might have hidden. But he could do none of those things. He sat and watched a young woman approach.
“Goodness, are you alright?” she asked, when he was close enough to see her form but not her face.
She wore the same thin shoes that a lot of people in the town had been wearing, barely covering her feet, and long, flowing fabric danced on the shingle above them. He could just about make out her light hair and her petite height, but the rest of her remained a mystery.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Hoseok replied, knowing that he was lying but not knowing if she would see that.
“Are you sure?” she queried. “It’s not safe to be out on the beach alone at night like this. I saw you sitting here and I thought you might be in trouble.”
A glimmer of hope flicked in Hoseok’s heart. Could it finally be: a human who was like he had always dreamt humans would be? Kind? Generous? Could he tell her? Could he share his woes? Would she ease his mind? Was this what he had been waiting for?
He decided he had no choice because his only other options were to drown in the sea or starve on this beach.
“I am in trouble,” he began. “I have nowhere to stay, no food, no money. I have nothing. I don’t know what to do.”
He tried to stop his voice cracking, but it cracked of its own volition. He didn’t want to be pitied; he just needed to be helped. But beggars can’t be choosers, he reminded himself.
“None at all?”
You took a couple of steps towards him, still not close enough that he could see your features clearly, but enough to suggest trust, to suggest comfort.
He shook his head in return.
“You should come with me.”
You could see the surprise on his face, the hope that lit it, the worry that creased his brow.
“Just for tonight,” you continued. “I can give you a bed so you can rest. You really shouldn’t stay out here all night.”
Hoseok rose to his feet, biting hard on his bottom lip to stop himself crying out as the pain surged once more.
“It’s not far,” you said, before turning back the way you had come.
Hoseok followed your lantern, back up the beach, down the path, and into the town. You led him into a narrow alley with a single door at the end. It was this door that you opened with a quiet creak, then you led him inside and up a single flight of steps.
“It’s not much,” you said, attempting to sound somewhat apologetic as you opened the door to the apartment.
It was sparsely decorated and the linens were grey in a way that suggested they hadn’t always been. The lightbulb in the ceiling was naked and dim. The plant on the windowsill looked crisp and parched.
You lived comfortably underwater, despite your status as social pariah, because people wanted your little potions and spells and you could charge through the nose for them. On land, it was more difficult. Humans weren’t interested in trading for things; they wanted cash and nothing but. That made it more difficult to be comfortable here. But you had shelter and food and that was more than the prince had.
Hoseok was nervous. He hadn’t known what to expect but somehow, this wasn’t it. He had heard of the way humans warred with one another, the way they oppressed and exploited other classes, the way most of them starved whilst the few indulged. This was so much more mundane. Nondescript. Boring. Homely.
He took a look at the woman now that he could see her properly in the cold light of the apartment. She was beautiful. Not unlike the woman he had rescued from the beach, he realised. Dark skin that somehow shimmered, golden hair that almost looked like a halo with the way it reflected light. Her eyes were dark, too, deep and rich and warm. She felt familiar to him, somehow, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. He knew she wasn’t the same woman from the beach, not quite, but there was something about her that he felt he knew, had seen before. It comforted him, quieted his nerves a little.
“I don’t have much to offer,” you interrupted his thoughts with a shy chuckle. “But it’s better than sleeping outside.”
“This is wonderful. I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. It has been a difficult day and you are the first person who’s shown me any kindness. I don’t know how I can repay you for that.”
You giggled and it sounded like chimes.
“You don’t have to repay me. Pay it forward; if you help someone like I’m helping you, that will be enough.”
Hoseok wondered for a second if he had fallen asleep on the beach and was dreaming this. Because this woman, she was everything he had dreamt; she was what he had been hoping for. The flicker of hope in his chest grew into a flame and he shivered as a warmth rushed through him.
“Would you like something to eat?” you offered and Hoseok jumped at the chance.
You gave him bread and cheese and watched him eat them, at first tentatively, and then with great gusto. Of course, he had never tried these things before, never eaten human food. You placed some fruit on the small coffee table he was eating at and he devoured that, too. His eyes widened as he bit into a pear, ripe and juicy, sticky sweet nectar dribbling down his chin. He hummed with delight and you saw the sparkle return to his eyes.
You knew what you were there to do but you were enjoying this moment. This was the Prince Hoseok you knew; this was how he should be: bright and smiling, his crescent-moon eyes alight with laughter. You sat next to him and picked at some food, too, not really tasting it because the sweetness of the moment was far too strong.
Hoseok only stopped eating when you stopped giving him food, when you only had enough left for a small breakfast in the morning and nothing else. He sat back, resting on his palms, and sighed happily.
“That was the most amazing meal I’ve ever had!” he exclaimed and you laughed.
“You are very easily impressed. There are far more exciting things to eat here; I simply cannot afford them all.”
He shook his head.
“Not at all. That was wonderful. Thank you so much.”
With his stomach finally full, his fatigue hit him full in the face and he yawned widely, a quiet wail escaping his throat.
“You must be exhausted. Please, take the bed. I can sleep on the sofa,” you said, gesturing towards the bed that sat against one wall.
Hoseok thought the bed looked huge and the sofa, small. He thought about what the right thing to do would be. He couldn’t sleep in the bed. It wouldn’t be right, would it? But he was so tired and in so much pain. He looked at the bed longingly, imagining himself stretching out over its surface, letting it take his weight. He imagined it feeling like water, like being carried on the waves, weightless. He looked at the sofa.
“Please,” you repeated. “Take the bed.”
Every manner, every point of order, every etiquette lesson was screaming at him to say no, to refuse, to offer to sleep anywhere but the bed. To not inconvenience you, to not put you out, to not cost you even more than he already had, to not trespass any further onto your kindness. But sleep was calling, louder and more insistent. His wrecked, ravaged body was screaming.
He nodded shyly and offered a quiet thanks before rising and slipping, sore and worn, beneath the sheets. He was asleep before he even had the chance to notice the way the bed fabric, too, brushed rough against his exposed skin.
You watched him. He looked peaceful; his face smoothed of any worries or concerns. He made a fine human, you thought. He was tall and lean and, despite the pain you knew he was suffering, he didn’t let it show: he’d walked straight and held himself high. Royal blood, you assumed.
You wondered how much you would have to engineer this to ensure success. Despite all you knew about the prince (and you knew a lot), this was a blind spot. He had hesitated when you told him of his conditions; the idea of a child had alarmed him. Maybe he would decide he didn’t want to stay human after all.
There were two and a half days left. That was plenty of time, you decided. You wouldn’t push; he was too delicate for that, especially after his first day’s misery. You would cushion his fall, pick him up carefully, and slowly show him both what the human world was really like and what it could be like with you. You would delight him and impress him and he would give himself to you. He would. You were sure of it. He would fall into the world that you would show him and he would give himself to you, body and soul.
You fingered the clamshell still tied around your neck. It held the pearl you created when you turned Hoseok into a human. It now also held the pearl you created when you turned yourself into one.
* * *
The thing about royalty, the thing about the privileged, who’ve never really experienced hardship, for whom doors have always been opened, is that they are resiliently optimistic folk. Everything has always gone their way; naturally, they assume it always will. Even now, after everything that happened to him yesterday, Prince Hoseok was beaming. He was enamoured. He was full of awe and wonder. He was experiencing the human world as he thought it would be.
Because of you.
It was taking a lot out of you, truth be told, because you didn’t have the riches you needed to show him a human experience comparable to his underwater life. He wasn’t a royal here; he wasn’t anyone at all. Doors didn’t open for him and they didn’t open for you. But Hoseok had his charm and you had charms of a very different sort. So you were making it work, but your nerves were rising; with every bit you put in, you told yourself you had better pull this off. You had better seal the deal, make good on this bargain you had made with yourself, see through to the end the promise you swore to your dead mother and her dead mother and all the dead mothers back until time began.
It was your biggest show. It was your hardest work. Your magnum opus.
Or it would be. If—if you could do it.
Hoseok couldn’t let on that this was his first time on the surface; he couldn’t tell you he was really a merman, that a seawitch had transfigured him, that his legs were really a tail. It was too risky, too dangerous. But he kept forgetting that that meant he had to try to hide his enthusiasm, his surprise. Everything here was new to him. Everything here was fascinating and wonderful and intriguing and he could barely contain himself.
He had no backstory. He had no lies to tell. And he hadn’t noticed that you hadn’t asked. But it was dawning on him that, if he were to have a life here, he would have to think of something to tell people about where he came from. But he didn’t have the time, right now, to think of it. There was far too much to attend to. Too much to see, too much to do.
It would have been overwhelming were it not for you. If he’d had to continue doing this alone... well, he wouldn’t have. Couldn’t have. If you hadn’t found him on the beach last night, where would he be? Sinking beneath the waves? Starving on the shore? You had lifted him up and now you were carrying him along, tethering him to the earth, providing him a guiding string to hold. He had never been so grateful for anyone in his life.
Not even the sea witch.
“What do you say?” you asked him, shortly before sunset on that second day.
Hoseok tried to think, but it didn’t really matter to him and he was so overstimulated, he couldn’t have made a decision if he’d wanted to. He shrugged.
“I’m happy to go wherever you like!”
“Hungry yet?”
He shook his head. He had sampled one of everything at the market after lunch and had to spend half an hour sitting quietly so that it wouldn’t make a return journey up his throat. He was still very far from hungry.
That was exactly the answer you were hoping for.
You led him away from town, towards the west where the land rose in a grassy slope, steep and getting steeper, until you reached the top of the cliff. You walked up to the edge and turned to see Hoseok hanging back, looking nervous.
“Scared of heights?”
Hoseok didn’t know. He had never really experienced ‘heights’, wasn’t quite sure what that meant. But the wind was stronger up here and he knew, without having to look, that the sea was a very long way down. It couldn’t be dangerous if you were doing it, he reasoned, but he’d heard too many stories of humans falling to their deaths from cliffs like these – sometimes deliberately, but often not.
You held your hand out to him and his stretched back before he’d even noticed and he inched forward until you could take it and tug him a little further and a little further still. His heart was in his mouth as he craned his neck to peer down into the foaming waves as they crashed and broke against the rock face. You didn’t let go of his hand.
“It’s very high,” he stated unsurely, not knowing if it was really.
It felt high. It looked high to him. But, in a way, everything was high. The sea had depth, not height. It wasn’t the same thing. He might have wagered that it would be, before now, but looking down to the sandy seabed from high above it was very different from looking down at the sea from the cliff edge. Something to do with the environment maybe.
Maybe the fact that he couldn’t fall off the sea and plummet to his death. Maybe that. He’d never been in mortal danger; the sea was a safe place for him and he had all the protection he might have wanted (more than he wanted, actually); he hadn’t really appreciated it until yesterday, when he had nothing and no one.
Now, he had you.
It had occurred to him. The condition of his staying a human. The three days he had to plant a seed. It kept occurring to him. It wouldn’t stop occurring to him. Not when you smiled, not when you showed him yet another wonder, not when you took his hand in your own. He wasn’t sure if he could do it. For a start, he wasn’t completely sure how all that worked with human bodies. For another, he didn’t know if you would want to. He didn’t know what human culture dictated.
You were beautiful. About that, he had no doubt. Was he attracted to you? Yes, he had decided he was. Did he trust you? Yes, as much as he could trust someone he’d just met; as much as he could trust a human. Did you feel the same way? That was a mystery he didn’t know how to solve. You had stretched out your hand to him; you had paid for him to be fed; you had let him sleep in your bed; you had taken him into your home. It suggested something, but he didn’t know what.
Just as it had the day before, his ignorance alarmed him. His recklessness in coming still surprised him. The weight of his deadline pressed down on him and he shuddered, involuntarily.
He looked concerned, you thought, distracted. You could tell he didn’t really like being so high above the sea; you wondered if it were a merman thing or a Hoseok thing. Being neither, you couldn’t know. You took pity on him and led him back down the cliffside, keeping his hand in yours as long as he would let you.
You assumed you would have to lead, that he wouldn’t take charge of the situation—judging by what you had seen so far. You mulled it over as you wandered slowly back into town. He had never really had to work for it, you supposed. He was a prince. And beautiful. And charming. And kind. He had everything going for him, which meant he had the entire sea throwing themselves at his feet, desperate to be picked. He probably didn’t know the first thing about seduction, about attraction—not really, anyway. It struck you then that there was every chance he’d be a really bad lay. There was every chance you would be, having never done it as a human before, but that was besides the point. The idea of Hoseok disappointing you left a sour taste in your mouth but you ignored it; that was not what you were there for. Good or bad didn’t matter. There was one objective and one only. Your own pleasure, your own, secret, little goals were neither here nor there. You had to stay focused.
Because it wasn’t going to be easy. You knew that. That was half the reason you hadn’t planned to do it yourself anyway (or so you told yourself...). It was going to be harder for you than some random stranger. You knew that. It was going to be horrible, you knew, looking into his eyes when he learnt the truth, when he saw you—the real you—for the first time on land. You could picture it: the shock and betrayal, the fear and hurt. It gave you pause. Because you hated him, hated who he was and what he stood for and everything about the systems and society of the place you both lived. But you also loved him, loved his smile and his eyes, his heart and his soul. You wanted him to be yours forever. You wanted him to choose you. He never would. Not really. If he knew you were here, if he knew the human holding his hand was really the sea witch who’d sent him up there, he wouldn’t choose you.
The shocked, betrayed face. The frightened, hurt expression. You sighed heavily, without meaning to.
“Are you ok?” Hoseok asked, his head tilting to the side.
You smiled brightly back at him.
“Of course! Just starting to get a bit peckish. Shall we eat something?”
Hoseok wasn’t really hungry. The market food was still solid in his stomach. But if you wanted to eat, he’d eat. He’d do anything you asked. He owed you everything.
More, in fact, than he knew.
* * *
You’d been distracted through dinner, which had been fine because, without the food to focus on (Hoseok barely ate), he could look around at everything else. He could fire questions at you (questions that were far too revealing—not that he noticed) and comment on his surroundings and commentate with barely any input required. That meant you could contemplate your task. You’d had to rush into this whole thing, take the reins with very little notice at all. This was not how you usually operated.
You were meticulous and organised because you had to be. Always on your guard because you had to be. Everything you did came with its own audit trail because you couldn’t afford to make mistakes. You had seen what that had done to your mother at far too young an age. Not that she actually made the mistake. But when you don’t have the proof of every action you’ve taken and word you’ve said, they can make it look like you did whatever they say you did.
You ate slowly, not really tasting, not really savouring. Your mind was busy, calculating. You had a day and a half left. 36 hours, give or take. There would be another night after this one. You didn’t relish the idea of leaving it until the last minute, but you could spoil the whole thing entirely if you pushed too hard, too fast. So you decided to wait.
*
Hoseok was determined, this time, to do the right thing and let you sleep in your own bed. He was embarrassed at the way he had behaved the night before: how greedily he’d eaten, how quickly he had relegated you to the sofa. It made him cringe. And then you had spent the whole day playing hostess to him: showing him around, paying for everything, keeping him company, and answering his questions.
His debt to you was beyond belief. He knew he should leave. He knew he should make his own way. He knew he could not rely on you – not even for the rest of his three days, if that was all he would have. He had to find a way to survive independently. He knew that. He had to pay you back. He had to make things right.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight,” he announced when you returned back to your shabby apartment.
You pretended to be surprised.
“Oh, no,” you replied, “not at all. Take the bed! It’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“No way. It’s your bed. I slept on it last night when I really shouldn’t have. Please. Take it.”
You shook your head, scrunching your nose and grinning stubbornly at him.
“No. You.”
He sighed, but the corners of his lips twitched anyway.
“We may have reached a stalemate,” he announced, with solemn mock-seriousness.
You hummed, thoughtfully, running a finger along the bottom of the bed as you stepped closer to him.
“A compromise, then,” you said, poking a finger into his chest.
“And what is your compromise?”
“Well…”
You weren’t shy. Not when you were being yourself and not when you were pretending to be a human. But you were good at acting like it. You looked down and then up at him through your lashes, a small, reluctant smile traced on your lips.
“We could… share?”
You raised a hand to your face, covering your mouth, looking at Hoseok and then away and then back to him, eyelashes fluttering.
The genuine surprise on his face gave you butterflies. You could see his hesitation, watch his mind weigh his options, calculate the costs and benefits of each. He knew too little to have anything to guide him. Anything but you. And you had suggested it.
So it had to be ok, right?
“Share?” he asked, buying himself another moment to think it over, to consider what all this might mean in relation to the condition he had to meet.
You nodded, lip trapped between your teeth.
“Ok!” he answered brightly, hoping it was the right response, and inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when you beamed back at him.
It would be easy to love you, he thought and the sentiment caught him off-guard. He had to be realistic about human life. He wasn’t a prince here. He had nothing. But when he looked at you, he felt rich. He felt like his dream was within his grasp. You were everything he had ever hoped for. He could stay here forever with you, couldn’t he?
He wasn’t going to do anything tonight. Ask or proposition or… or god knew what else. It was too soon. Too early. There was still time. He told himself, there was still time. Still time for him to wake up from this dream he’d fallen into when he met you. Still time to commit to it forever.
You took the left side and Hoseok the right. You curled onto your side, facing him, with the covers pulled up to your eyes. He lay on his back, moonlight from the open shutter illuminating his face in a sharp line that crossed him and left you in the dark.
You watched him for a while: not sleeping, though he had his eyes closed.
“Hoseok,” you whispered. “Where are you from?”
His eyes opened and went to the window.
“Somewhere… close but also very far away.”
“You mean like, culturally?”
You saw him nod.
“Yeah. Where I come from is… very different. More different than I thought.”
“How come you came here?”
He shook his head, eyes trained on the ceiling.
“I had to,” was his simple answer and you let it hang there in the darkness, waiting for him to add to it. “I think I could have stayed, but I’d have got old and I would have looked back and I’d have regretted it. I’d have regretted staying there my whole life. I’d have regretted not seeing everything this wo- this place has to offer. I needed to experience it.”
“Do you like it here?”
He let the question go unanswered for some time. So long that he wondered, after he’d spoken, if you’d fallen asleep in the interim.
“I like some of it. I like you.”
It made your stomach swoop. Even if he wasn’t talking about you. Just the human you were pretending to be. You wondered how a real human woman would have responded to that.
You changed the subject.
“I thought I was seeing things when I first noticed you on the beach.”
A slow smile formed itself on Hoseok’s lips.
“You were… You saw me.”
You reached out and poked his arm.
“I didn’t want to go home not knowing you were ok. If I’d woken up in the morning to a news story about… well, I couldn’t have lived with myself. I realised, as I approached, that you weren’t really in danger. You looked like you were waiting for something. Someone.”
His smile turned rueful and his eyes flicked again to the window, outside of which you could hear but not see the waves crashing on the shore.
“I was,” he said, his voice a low whisper. Then he turned his face away from the light to look directly at you. “I was waiting for a miracle.”
* * *
You no longer had any concerns about the success of your plan. You had no doubt that Hoseok would go along with anything you wanted to drag him into. You didn’t know if he knew what his feelings were, but you did.
It was your own feelings that concerned you.
You hadn’t spent time with Hoseok like this since you were much younger. He was addictive. His smiles and his laughter and the way his eyes gleamed bright all the while. You could feel your resolve crumble and you knew it was bad when you realised it didn’t bother you.
You began to try to re-think things. Reformulate. Work out a way that maybe there could be a future, after all.
Originally, this was where it stopped. This was where your scheming—and your life—would end. You felt the guilt of having had no children: no one to pass your powers and your knowledge down to; you also felt free because you had subjected no one else to a life like yours. It was a heavy burden to be who you were down in the water. But it wouldn’t have mattered much once you were dead, which you were certain you would be at the end of all this. You can’t just ‘kidnap’ the prince, ‘mutilate’, and ‘trap’ him and live to tell the tale. Many had died for less. And you were fine with that. You were living to avenge every woman in your family, every witch, every creature under the sea who lived shunted into shadows, left out of the light, less than. Had been for years.
And for years, your only source of light, the single little gemstone glittering in your heart, was Prince Hoseok. Prince Hoseok and his angelic face, his musical laughter, his charm, his lightness, his brightness, his everything you weren’t and could never be.
You would get to destroy it all in one fell swoop. A beautiful, perfect demise.
Now you weren’t so sure. Weren’t so sure you could do it. You could do it; you weren’t sure you could go through with it. These feelings that you thought you were so used to, not controlled by, not swayed by anymore, were threatening to overpower you. You felt the tendrils unfurl, in the deepest pit of your heart, sending out shoots and roots, embedding themselves further into the bitter, twisted muscle. You could feel them growing through your veins, buds springing up like goosebumps on your skin. You felt them every time his hand accidentally brushed yours, every time you fed him some new food and barely grazed his lips with your fingers. Every time he laughed. Every time he looked at you. Every time. All the time.
Hoseok allowed himself to relax. You liked his company. You wanted him around. He hadn’t tried that hard to leave you—because he had no one and nothing and nowhere else, but also because he recognised that you wanted him to stay. He had realised that, whilst so much was different up on the surface, he was the same. And people liked him. Always had. Yes, he was a prince and there was always a contingent of the sycophantic and the boot-licking, but he had always been well-liked, even amongst his brothers, amongst the entire royal court. He was popular. He was fun. He was funny.
And he was enjoying himself.
He had twenty-four hours. That was enough. He’d make a decision. He was confident in that. He would make a decision soon and he would live with it, whatever it ended up being. He wasn’t pushing himself to find the answer just yet.
He was enjoying himself.
You took him dancing. It felt risky, given what you knew about how much pain he must still be in, how uncoordinated he might be on his two feet, but it was an opportunity to get closer, to show him something new, to show him something you could do. Because you loved to dance. Really only came to the surface to do this one thing.
Certain sea creatures danced, but not like humans did. It wasn’t the same without the sound of feet on floorboards, wasn’t the same without the weight of gravity trying to keep you down every time you pushed up. You weren’t exactly a fan of humans (certainly not in the way Hoseok was), but they had got this right.
Your worries had been unfounded. Hoseok’s legs were feeling better already, he thought, or he was just getting used to the pain. Either way, he wasn’t suffering like he had on the first day. He was a terrible dancer, make no mistake. He couldn’t understand the way people moved their legs, the way their feet moved so quickly they were almost blurs. He tripped and stumbled and crashed about but none of that seemed to matter to you, so it didn’t matter to him either. You held him close and pulled him up and around and twisted and turned and skipped and span until his head was dizzy.
He had never experienced a joy like it.
*
You took him on a short carriage ride, because there was somewhere else you wanted him to see. It wasn’t that far, really, but you didn’t want him to have to walk and a carriage was as new an experience to him as everything else was.
You made it drop you just far enough away that it wouldn’t spoil the surprise. You gave Hoseok nothing, answering none of his questions, not saying a word, because you were holding your breath to wait for his reaction.
And there it was.
You saw his eyebrows, first raised and then knitted together, and then softening. His eyes widening. His mouth dropping open slightly, in the way that made it perfectly heart-shaped. Then he turned his eyes on you. Was this it? Was this the thing you wanted him to see?
It was.
Like a sea of green grass with hundreds – no, thousands – of red flowers floating on the waves. Hoseok didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t seen anything like this before. It was as if he were in another new world. The red-headed poppies were so numerous, you almost couldn’t see the grass underneath; there was merely a suggestion of verdant growth propping up the riot of colour. What were these things and how did they grow in such great number?
He had been taught, growing up, that humans had no respect for nature. That they ripped up land plants and built over grasslands; they destroyed forests and valleys and wetlands all for their own ends. They would rather look at glass and concrete and chrome than the kaleidoscopic views the natural world had to offer. He had believed them, because he had heard the true stories of what human activity had done to sea life; he had received the messages of the reefs dying and oil spilling and nets catching up all sorts of things they shouldn’t. He thought, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, as he was always wont to do, that maybe the nature on land wasn’t like the nature in the sea. Maybe things were different up here. Lots of other things were.
Now he saw that he had been entirely wrong. Acres of land lay before him. Acres of useful land that could have grown crops or laid foundations to buildings were ablaze with the bright, bright red of flowers he’d never seen before. And the humans let it happen.
As his surprise gave way to pure, wide-eyed admiration, he noticed that the humans were experiencing it the same way he was. He saw them with their cameras, taking their images (as you had explained to him that’s what they did), keeping the sight forever more. He saw them smile and laugh and frolic. He saw them and saw himself in them. He saw, also, the goodness he had always known was there. The spirit and love and joy of humanity. It was here, in these fields. It was here, in his heart. It was here, standing next to him; you, watching him expectantly, a nervous smile trying to tug your bottom lip from between your teeth.
“Wow,” was all he managed to say.
* * *
It was his last night. What might have been his last night. What could be his last night. Hoseok felt tense. Nervous. Almost sick.
He had decided. He was going to stay. If he could. If he could make it happen. If you wanted it.
He knew he had a home to go back to, if you didn’t. He would always have these three days. No one could take them away from him. And if that’s all he got, if three days on the surface was all he ever got to experience, then so be it. He was putting himself in your hands: himself, his heart, his dreams. His body.
The problem was that he didn’t know how to tell you that. He didn’t know how any of this happened on land. He didn’t know what he could or could not say, or do, or suggest. Which is why he had to leave it up to you. He’d just get it wrong.
It was Hoseok’s last night and you were wondering if you were just imagining the way he was looking at you, wanting him to be looking like that. You could bend reality, but that didn’t mean you always saw it clearly. The heart had tricks of its own.
But you had the advantage over him, because you knew his secrets. You knew that this would be his last chance; you knew that you were his only option. You knew that he wanted to stay. You couldn’t be sure if he wanted to stay enough to sleep with you.
You had suggested wine at dinner because you knew it was what the humans drank and knew it made them silly and loud and boisterous; you knew it lowered their inhibitions and made them do things they often regretted. You didn’t really know how you would react to it—your body was technically human now but you’d never been drunk before—but it had left you feeling warm and a little giddy. It had, blessedly and as you had hoped, made this whole thing easier to think about.
Because your head was spinning a little too fast to think about the bigger picture: the whys and wherefores of how you got here, how he got here, the purpose of this whole thing. You could really only think about the splendid slope of his nose. The way his shallow philtrum led to the smooth, rounded peaks of his cupid’s bow. The tiny, dark freckle there that waited, begging to be kissed. The perfect symmetry of his dimples as he smiled.
You hadn’t indulged in this since you were small. Hoseok had been your first crush. First, last. Only. As a pre-teen, you’d been silly with infatuation over him. Memorised the maps of his freckles and exact proportions of his body. You’d floated around in the sea, daydreaming about him for hours on end, not realising how far you had strayed until your mother had come screaming after you, pulling you back and warning you about being so unaware of your surroundings.
You remembered those feelings now. The fizziness in your limbs and heavy twisting in your gut. Like old friends. Hoseok, too, was an old friend. Your oldest. Your only. Now and, if you got this right, forevermore.
Hoseok had accepted the first glass of wine but recoiled at its taste, unable to believe he’d found something on the surface he didn’t like. You had then explained to him that it was technically a poison and he had been aghast to see you continue to drink it, to look around and see so many other humans doing the same. Every minute brought him something new.
You took his hand as you walked back from dinner to your apartment. It was warm and soft and you were grateful for it. Hoseok was grateful for it, too. His clothes still rubbed at his skin and so much of him still hurt, but your hand in his did not.
You didn’t let go when you reached the door, didn’t let go when it shut behind you and you let the lock click. You tugged him a little closer to you, took his other hand, kept his eyes on yours as you moved closer still.
You hadn’t done this before.
Hoseok hadn’t done this before.
You’d seen it done. You understood the concept.
Hoseok had no idea what was coming, but he had decided what he wanted. He had decided to trust you. And he’d decided to trust his gut, too. If humans were anything like merpeople (and they were), at least some of what was to happen would be instinctive.
He hoped, anyway.
You didn’t say a word, though you had planned to. You had scripted a kind of shy proposition, an awkward hobble of a speech in which you would say and ask and tell. But you abandoned it. Or rather, it abandoned you. Not a single word of it left in your head. So you stopped using it: your head. Stopped thinking.
You pressed your lips to his like you’d seen humans do.
The candle in Hoseok’s heart roared, its flame reaching up his throat and into his mouth. He didn’t have time to think. His body acted for him. For the first time since he crawled onto the shore, his body was feeling something that wasn’t pain. Was feeling something familiar. Something hot and deep and aching.
He didn’t mind the taste of the wine on your tongue, thought it was sweet, actually, had lost the acidic tang of the alcohol that made it poisonous. This kiss was like every kiss that had come before it, but also, nothing like them. Absent, the tang of salt. Present, the wet heat of your mouth and his. Absent, the way he could breathe through his gills. Present, the breathlessness that made him pull away before you pulled him back. Absent, the modest nudity in which the entire undersea world lived. Present, a kind of shy, self-conscious awareness of his hidden body.
An enormous, embarrassed awareness of the bulge in his trousers, the way it couldn’t be hidden. He had been horrified to see it, when he had washed up on the beach, two-legged and naked. He couldn’t believe that humans just walked around with everything on display like that (he had known this already, would have remembered if he’d been in his right mind); he’d felt awkward and conscious the entire time, sure that everyone could see, that it was obscene, that humans couldn’t really live like this?
But never more than now, as it strained against his trousers, which hadn’t been tight thirty seconds ago and were now constraining him in a way that bordered on painful. He kept his body away from you, more difficult now that your hands were skittering up his arms and down his chest, slipping back up his skin underneath his shirt, trying to pull him closer.
You felt a little bit dizzy. Sure, the wine, but also, this. Hoseok. The sweetness of fruit in his mouth. The heat of his skin. The sensation of a kiss—something you’d never experienced before, that you had seen, that had disgusted you—was nothing like you’d imagined. If you had thought about it, if you’d been thinking rationally, you might still have been disgusted by the way your tongues rolled over each other, swapping saliva, the way you could taste him, taste the fruit he’d just eaten. But you weren’t thinking rationally. You weren’t thinking at all.
You were feeling. And it was like nothing you’d ever felt before.
You gave into it.
Hoseok gave into it.
It was, as the humans say, like riding a bike. Though you hadn’t done that either.
Hoseok stopped thinking about it when you removed his shirt and stepped out of your dress. Legs were new to him. That was true. The human arrangement of body parts was new to him but they weren’t all that different once everything was out in the open. You had lit a fire in him and he was happy to stoke the flames. He was burning again, all over, inside and out, but it wasn’t painful, wasn’t torture. It was exquisite. New and familiar at once. Intoxicating.
You fell to your knees and Hoseok thought you had stumbled, bent down to help you up, but you stopped him, shook your head, and he stood straight.
Then you took his thick, heavy cock into your hand and licked the top. You wrapped your lips around it and pushed yourself forward, gliding your tongue along the underside, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. Hoseok gasped and almost fell to his knees himself. He didn’t know what this was, assumed it was a normal part of human sex, briefly wondered if sex actually was different here, if this was the entire act. Then he felt the head of his cock press against the back of your throat and his mind was wiped clean of thought. Replaced by a kind of urgent static that made him want to buck his hips, fuck into the hot clutch of your throat.
You had seen humans do this. You weren’t sure if you were doing it right. Not at first, anyway, but Hoseok had a pained look on his face, his mouth hanging open, his chest heaving as he panted, and you knew that was the reaction you were supposed to be eliciting. You could feel the twitch of his dick as it hit your throat, as you gagged lightly around it. You could just about hear, over the roaring of blood in your ears, Hoseok moaning, your name tumbling from his mouth like a prayer.
You were aching between your legs. You were hot and sticky and you could feel it dripping from you. You felt your walls clench and had the sudden, immediate need for Hoseok’s cock there, not in your mouth. You let it fall, wiped your eyes and your mouth and Hoseok was pulling you to your feet, crashing his mouth into yours, his hands frantic and grabbing.
Neither of you was thinking a second beyond what was happening. Gone were your concerns with your long-planned acts of vengeance. Gone were Hoseok’s worries about committing to life on the surface, about leaving his marine life behind, bringing a child into the world. Gone was the pressure of your subterfuge. Gone was the pressure of all his lies of omission. Gone was everything outside the four walls of this apartment. Gone was the whole world beyond your body in his hands, his body in yours.
Hoseok found that legs made all this much easier. They probably wouldn’t under water, but here, he saw their benefit. Saw the upsides to having two of them, of having them jointed at two places and not twenty. As he knelt over you on the dingy grey sheets of your bed, he almost laughed at the image of him trying to do this with a tail. Maybe there were some upsides to this human body after all.
He placed the tip of his cock at your entrance and pushed his hips forward, a little experimentally, testing the motion, the movement of his hips. He fell forward onto his hands, eyes closed, a long, gasping moan trapped in his throat.
He hadn’t known that humans had it so much better.
Would’ve done this days ago if he had.
You were hot and tight and wet and it was all Hoseok could do not to come right there and then. He paused, trying to catch a breath, gather himself, not lose it all as soon as he had begun.
It was excruciating for a second and the whine you’d let out wasn’t pleasured but pained. You were grateful when Hoseok stopped, though you didn’t think it was for you. Is this what it was like? You had thought they liked it. That was the point, wasn’t it? Humans mated for fun, not just for procreation. You had to assume fun would follow. It had been fun up to that point. It had been its own exquisite kind of pleasurable torture waiting for something to stuff you full.
But now he was and it was like being split down the middle. You wondered for a second if this was how it had felt for Hoseok when he grew legs. Then he started pushing his hips forward again and it tossed all thought out the window.
“Are you ok?” he asked, looking down at you with a frown of genuine concern.
You nodded. You nodded some more. You couldn’t speak because the pressure in your centre was overwhelming, the pain like nothing you had felt before. But you couldn’t stop. You wanted it. You wanted him. You had never been pushed out of your mind like this, brought into your body so viscerally, so violently, with such care. Hoseok brushed a strand of hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
“No.”
You pulled him down to you, down to his forearms, so you could kiss him, so his chest touched yours, so you could distract yourself from Hoseok with even more Hoseok. With your tongue in his mouth, you allowed yourself to cry out as he pushed further. He swallowed the sound and returned his own. You were trembling, your muscles shaking, your skin sticky with sweat.
So was Hoseok.
The pain wasn’t registering anymore, even though he knew it was still there. All he could feel was your cunt squeezing hard around him; it made him dizzy with pleasure. His stomach was churning, twisting; he was bracing trying to make this last.
Because he’d forgotten the point of it. Forgotten that the ending was the bit that counted. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to touch you and taste you and luxuriate in the human experience of this. He hadn’t imagined it but, if he had, even his wildest dreams wouldn’t have come close. Mermaids? He’d never go back.
He paused, to give you a moment, to give himself a moment, a breather. He kissed you, luxuriating in that, too: the way you tasted like no one else he’d ever kissed, the way your mouth was warm and wet, your tongue soft and supple. He liked the way his breath caught in his throat. He liked the way he found himself panting. He even liked the way his shoulders were starting to ache from holding his body up. Liked the way he could feel every muscle of his posterior chain move when he slowly, tentatively began to draw his hips back, when he tipped them forward again, when he set a slow, smooth motion that he found came easily to him.
Having a human body was exhausting. It was hard work. It was heavy all the time and never supported. It had been torture in the truest sense, with every step Hoseok took stabbing daggers into his legs. But he could see the benefits now. Well, he could feel them. He felt more embodied than he ever had before. Somehow separate from the world in a way that made him feel so much more connected to you. You weren’t two small parts of a larger whole. You were the whole.
He had spent time pondering the ways in which air was so different from water. He often thought water came off the better from the comparison. But this was changing everything. It was exhausting and painful and he was so aware of each and every part of his body. And with that, came a gut-churning pleasure that made his eyes water and his head spin. Water had nothing on air.
You weren’t sure it was pleasurable yet. The sharp pain had subsided and the little grunts and groans that Hoseok left in your mouth were sweet enough, but it wasn’t pleasure. Not yet. You were sure it would come. Didn’t mind entirely if it didn’t tonight. There would be other nights.
You hoped, you prayed, there would be other nights. Because it might have been pain, but it was the sweetest pain you’d ever felt. A pain that you somehow longed for, even as you longed for it to end. A pain that made you feel wanted. A pain that connected you to another living being in a way that you never had been. A pain that, in a moment of intense clarity, you realised connected you to women, human women. All human women who had experienced this since time began. You understood a little about their myths about the origin of man, and sin, and punishment.
You understood it. How this could be punishment. How it could be pleasure, too. How it could be worth it.
Hoseok could feel it coming. He was desperately trying to beat it back, to delay its onset, to make this last and last and last. He never wanted it to end, but he could feel his muscles tightening, feel his cock jumping with every thrust. Pleasure was coiling like a spring inside him, boiling rapidly, boiling over.
You gasped alongside him when he came, when his hips and breath stuttered and he filled you with ropes of hot cum. His body was heavy on top of yours, in a pleasing, crushing kind of way that grounded you. At that very moment, neither one of you was thinking about the consequences of what you had just done. What it could mean. What it meant for your best laid plans. You were lying, listening to the soft rushing of your breath and the hammering of your hearts.
*
It came to you, first, and you didn’t want to think about it. Because you were so full of feeling for Hoseok; feelings that you thought had faded, that had embedded themselves in you in a way that made them fade into the background, made you almost forget they were there, were screaming at you now. In technicolour. Surround sound. Unignorable. Undeniable.
But had you just destroyed him? Destroyed his life? His family?
That had been the intention. Bring down the royal family by having one of their own shun the sea for life on the surface, mate with a human. They’d have known it was you—it couldn’t have been anyone else—and they’d have executed you without trial. But it would’ve been worth it because, forever more, there would be a line of the royal family that ran human, that ran amok on the surface, that no one below the waves would ever be able to forget. It would have been their undoing without doubt. Whatever betrothals lay in wait for the princes would be broken; whatever treaties that were depending on them dashed; the reputation of the family would be in tatters. It would be over for them.
Which was what you had wanted.
But as you lay, absent-mindedly stroking Hoseok’s hair, naked and sweaty and sticky, with a penetrating ache still radiating through your core, you thought about how much that would hurt him. You saw the betrayal on his beatific face and your stomach flipped with fear. Because it wasn’t meant to be you lying here. And that made a difference.
Because you had seen him. You had kissed him. You had had him move inside you. You had loved him your whole life long and now you had to tell him that you had ulterior motives. That you were working against him. That all of this had been the result of your careful manipulations.
There had to be another way. There had been another way. That was how you had designed it. You weren’t supposed to be in this front-row seat. That was the point.
But it was too late now. And you needed a way out.
Maybe he never had to know.
Maybe you could make this work.
*
Hoseok’s eyes were fluttering shut. He could barely keep them open. He didn’t know if he had just secured his existence here or not. He didn’t know how to guarantee a child. Wasn’t clear-headed enough at that moment to know, for sure, if he wanted one.
He wanted to stay. Oh, he wanted to stay. He couldn’t go back now. But a child?
He felt wicked. He thought about what you might say if you ever learnt the truth. The betrayal. The way he used you for this.
He felt like a coward. He was a pampered prince who had achieved nothing on his own. He had turned to a sea witch in the midst of what amounted to a king-sized tantrum. She had risked her entire existence bringing him here. He had barely survived on his own. You had rescued him. Given him food and shelter and company and the greatest pleasure he had ever known.
He knew he couldn’t tell you the truth. Not if he wanted any part of this to continue.
Because he did. He wasn’t just using you. He wasn’t sure he was using you at all. He liked you. He wanted you. He wanted to stay, not just on the surface, but on the surface with you.
It felt too big. Too confusing. Too difficult. He was a coward, after all, so he closed his eyes and decided to see what the morning would bring.
You noticed his breathing slow, grow heavy and deep, his body relaxing further, his weight pressing down on you harder. He was asleep. That gave you time, you thought. To think of something. Some way out of this. Some way to stay in this.
But your own eyelids felt heavy, kept dropping of their own accord, and you kept losing your train of thought. You gave into it; you would wake early, go out and buy something for breakfast, figure it out in the morning.
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Bookmark my Heart
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
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Description: You're not the audiobook type. You much prefer reading over listening to books. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device.
Warnings: None! (Though I do believe Flirty!Rooster is a warning I should call out.)
Themes: Meet-Cute, Flirting, Coffee, Books, Smut Books
Word Count: 3456
A/N: So, if you all aren't aware, today is the lovely @roosterforme's birthday! I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Em and all of the amazing things she does more than to write some Rooster for her. Happy Birthday! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! So without further ado, I'm pleased to present you all with Bookmark my Heart, a fic where Bradley Bradshaw is an audiobook narrator and the reader, nicknamed Paper, runs right into him! All my thanks to @horseshoegirl and @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic and catching all of the places where I've missed commas as well as updating my phrasing!
My Masterlist
AO3: Cross-posted Here!
Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!
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You’re not the audiobook type. Something about having someone read the pages, providing inflections and changes of tone to the otherwise inflectionless words tends to kill your imagination. So you much prefer reading over listening to the books you’re in the mood to peruse. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device. But maybe you should back up a little bit.
It all started, like it usually did for you, with a book. Unlike normally though, you aren’t talking about Keats, Byron, Shelley, or Austen. This time, the book that was your downfall was something you’d usually classify as chick-lit. Not that chick-lit is a bad thing. There are quite a few romance novels which are beautifully written and that you enjoy reading and re-reading. It’s just not normal that a romance novel, something smutty and provocative, would end up being talked about on podcasts and the news. That’s not considering how all of your female colleagues seem to be talking about the very same book. But that’s the other interesting thing. They’re not even discussing the book’s contents. More like they’re discussing the narrator’s voice in the audiobook edition - how deep and smooth and raspy it is.
It hadn’t even been a full day before the curiosity got the better of you and you purchased the book from Kindle Unlimited. It took you the better part of two weeks before you actually screwed up the courage to listen to it though. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a Saturday morning when you were running errands to listen to the book. In your defense, there was no better time to listen to the book other than a day when you’d be spending quite a long time in the car with nothing else to do. You’d definitely miscalculated. Dear lord, this man’s voice?! It’s deep and raspy, something smooth and dark in how he voices the syllables. It’s the kind of voice you’ve once heard referred to as panty-wetting - an epithet you’ve never understood until now.
The book has you squirming as you walk through the grocery store. There’s sweat dripping down your spine as he talks about something involving fighter jets and the men (and women - you always feel like you have to correct) who fly them. You’d never have thought that flaps and ailerons could ever be that alluring. You have to take a minute as you leave the grocery store, sitting in your car in silence practically heaving just at the way the word “Doll” had dripped off of his lips. Maybe you can buy into the hype a little bit. It’s not often that you find a romance book in the male perspective after all. As far as finding the pilots sexy goes, though, what can you say? You’ve seen Top Gun - both movies - those boys in their dress whites are awfully sexy.
You send a little prayer of thanks to Rooster Bradshaw, whoever he is, for narrating this book. Just his voice has already made your boring Saturday running errands a thousand times better. You don't even mind that you're melting in the San Diego heat without the air conditioning on as you collect yourself. At least there is only one thing you have left to do today. As a reward for finishing up your errands, including odious activities like going to the bank and post office and grocery shopping, you'd vowed to treat yourself with a romp through your favorite bookstore.
Like you mentioned earlier, it all started with a book. What can you say? You're nothing if not predictable. The Breezy Bean is your favorite coffee shop and bookstore. It's a small shop nestled right in the midst of cobblestone streets and overshadowed by apartment buildings on either side. It's always a zoo trying to get parking, but you can't regret the competition for parking when the books are as good as they are and the coffee is even better.
Lara's not at the counter, but her business partner and best friend, Emily is, and you wave at her absentmindedly as you tangle the cord of your headphones around your index finger. The entire shop smells like coffee beans, paper and ink. You could spend forever here, and you're sure you have, at the very least, spent the entire day in the shop before. The shelves tower over your head, creaking under the weight of everything they hold. You're not a woman on a mission today, content to just meander until a cover catches your fancy. The eyes eat first, after all, isn't that what they say? If only you knew how true that statement would be.
The whole time you're listening to the book, tasting the words on your tongue seconds after Rooster says them, teasing the syllables out like you're trying to snatch them from his lips. Is it any wonder that after about four hours of listening to his voice, you're starting to imagine what the main character of the book looks like based on how Rooster sounds? You're only human, after all. It's quiet and dim in the back of the store, the shelves lit only by the small lights shining from the wall sconces. This is your favorite section of the store. There's a squashy green armchair here with a small table, and this is where you usually sit and wile away the hours.
It's rare that anyone ever ventures into this corner of the store. So it's a surprise when you see a man standing right in front of your favorite chair. He's tall and ridiculously handsome, wearing an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Like everyone in California, he's got Ray-Bans flung into the neckline of his tank top. The truly unique part of his look is the mustache he's carefully cultivated on his upper lip. He’s holding a book in long-fingered hands, lips pursed as he scans the pages, leaning gently against one of the shelves.
You try your best to squeeze past him in the narrow aisle, wondering if Em and Lara have squeezed more shelves back here or if you've just gained weight when it happens — your headphone cord snags on the buttons on his open shirt. You try to untangle it, unsuccessfully, but then your phone falls out of your pocket and rips your headphones right out of the jack.
You were just getting to a good part, something filled with innuendo but not quite at the sex. That's your only silver lining. Because when your phone nosedives to the, thankfully, carpeted floor sans your headphones, the audio keeps playing way too loudly for the hushed environment. To add insult to injury, your phone is closer to him than it is to you, and well, you've embarrassed yourself enough. The last thing you need is to get eye-level with a stranger's dick while your phone is narrating smut in a bookstore.
“Good book?” There's a smile on his face, and you nod timidly as he hands you back your phone. You pause the app and turn the volume all the way down before his words, or well, you should say, the sound of his voice sinks in.
If you weren’t mortified before, you're even more so now. Obviously, your brain does not compute, so your brain-to-mouth filter isn't working as you blurt out, “You're Rooster Bradshaw.”
It doesn’t surprise you at all when he starts laughing - a full body, belly laugh which fills the stacks with the mellifluous sound. If you had any doubts before that you'd run into the Rooster Bradshaw at your favorite coffee shop before (which you didn’t - see your intimate knowledge of his voice from earlier), you wouldn’t have any now. His character had actually laughed not fifteen minutes ago in the book. Well, now what are you supposed to do? You feel hot, embarrassment crawling its way up your throat as you shift your weight back and forth. Rooster's smiling at you as he stands back, lounging against the shelf like he's waiting for you to get your shit together. You'd hate to break it to him, but you don't think that's possible.
“I'm sorry.” You try your best to hide your face because he does not need to see what your facial expressions are doing.
“What do you have to be sorry for?” You shrug a shoulder as you busy yourself by turning around and trying to force yourself to read the titles. “It's not every day I run into pretty girls in my favorite bookstore, listening to me narrate a book about US Naval Aviators.”
Flirting shouldn’t be the thing which puts you at ease in this situation. There really must be something wrong with you. You’ve never done anything like this before. What happened to the girl who would have run away the minute the phone fell? She might not be facing down the sexiest man she’s ever seen, but at least that version of her isn’t at risk of heart palpitations.
“I hate to break it to you, Rooster, but a lot of pretty women are listening to you right now. This book has made its way onto podcasts and PBS. The author herself has been interviewed gushing about your professionalism and how you say the word “aileron.” Despite your mortification, you find yourself mirroring his relaxed position against the shelves. “Though I do have to correct a part of your statement there. What about yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun makes me pretty? Because I’d call myself a mess.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re a mess, pretty girl.” Rooster grins as he tugs the shoulder of your cami up from where it is sliding down your arm. “Don’t you know exactly how devastating you look in those yoga pants?”
You’re left dumbstruck, reeling as he leans even closer to you. All of a sudden, you’re inundated with the scent of his cologne as he crowds into your space, and you’re forced to tip your head up to keep eye contact. Of course, the motion makes your glasses tip on your face, and you can’t lift a hand up to resettle them on your face without brushing up against every inch of the man, nearly squishing you into the shelf. There’s a scant few centimeters between you as you try to string words together.
“What makes you think I don’t know how good these pants make my ass look?” You smirk just a little, screwing up all of your courage to peer up at him. “But really, this outfit is comfortable.”
“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel, honey.” There’s a heat in his gaze as his voice rasps out the words. “But maybe we can both get a little more comfortable and have a cup of coffee together?” 
Only two people will ever know if your hand strays right over the seam at the front of his jeans as you walk away. “I’d love to, but maybe you need to take a few minutes in seclusion, Mr. Chicken.”
You feel giddy as you walk away because things like this don’t just happen to girls like you. You don’t flirt with men you've just met. And you definitely do not brush over the dicks of men you've just met! The counter is nearly empty as you walk up, and you know Em has clocked onto the fact that your hands are surprisingly empty of books.
“Hiya, Paper!” You roll your eyes only a little. Buy a stack of paperbacks once a week from a bookstore for months, and this is exactly what you’ll be nicknamed. “No books today?”
“Hey, Em. Can I get a latte, please? And whatever the gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt orders is on me.” You grin at the sight of her eyebrows ticking up until they’re nearly in her hair.
“What has our sweet little Paper been doing today, huh?” You shrug just a little, grinning as she hands you your drink. “I’ve been reading, Em!”
“Of course you have!” You’re laughing as you make your way to a table for two in the corner.
You’re smiling outright when Rooster swaggers out of the shelves a few minutes later, and Em clocks the Hawaiian shirt on his broad frame. She’s half drooling when he orders an Americano. As she turns to make his drink, you get the messages in short order.
What the fuck, Paper!
This is the man you’re buying a coffee for?
Damn, girl! I’m going to need all of the details. STAT!
You put the device away only when the chair opposite yours slides out, and Rooster settles in. You'd promised a full detailing of the encounter to Em, and you wouldn't be surprised if Lara interrogates you the next time you see her as well.
“So, obviously, you come here often, then.” He’s smirking as he sips on his coffee.
“Yup!” You’re just as chipper as you blow over the surface of your own mug.
“You come here often enough that one of the owners just threatened me with the loss of my…” He pauses like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry as he says the words, “...crown jewels…” and grimaces before continuing, “...if I hurt you.”
“She also called you Paper. Why’s that, Honey?”  
You lean forward, feeling just a little more confident as he mirrors your position. “Tit for tat, Bradshaw, if that even is your last name. You tell me something about yourself, I tell you something about myself.”
“Deal?” You stretch your hand out and gasp when he takes it and sets it down to the side of the mugs.
“Deal.”
“I’ll start.” Your faces are inches apart from each other. He's whispering, and you have to lean forward even further so you don't miss a single word. “My name’s Bradley Bradshaw. I didn’t want to use my real name while narrating those books.”
“And Rooster was what you decided on?” His chuckle and yours rise into the air in perfect harmony.
“It was a nickname I got in college. I was always the only guy in the dorm up before 9 A.M.”
You take turns sharing your life stories and quite a few secrets until your coffees are long gone. You find yourself telling him all about how you got your nickname and how you’ve been feeling stuck for the longest time. With Bradley, it doesn’t feel like another boring first date. If it weren’t for the faint hiss of the espresso machine and the clank of mugs and cutlery you wouldn't think there was another person in the room but the two of you. There are butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body shudders when he hooks his ankle around yours and tugs you closer. That point of contact has your blood turning into molten lava in your veins as his hand trails gentle patterns across your upturned palm.
“Hey, Paper?” It takes an inhuman effort to drag your eyes away from the magic Bradley Bradshaw is committing just with your hands in his own.
“Hey, Em.” As you say her name, you realize how dark it is. “The store’s closing, isn’t it?”
“Yup. It actually closed an hour ago. You looked so cute together that I called Lara, and we made an executive decision to let the two of you keep talking for just a bit longer.”
Your face feels extra hot because Em’s looking at you like she’s liable to start laughing at any moment. You don’t want to know what your hair looks like now, not after hours of running your fingers through it. It’s probably even more of a mess than it was when you literally ran into Bradley hours ago. A great first impression, right?
“Let me settle up then, Em.” If your voice is hushed and a little more subdued, it’s because reality and panic are settling in.
“No, sweetheart.” Bradley’s voice is even firmer as he stands up and places a hand on your arm. “Today is on me, I insist.”
You know exactly when Em puts it together, because her eyes widen to a comical degree. She was the biggest reason why you bought the book in the first place. “You’re Rooster Bradshaw!”
For the second time today, you find yourself laughing along with Bradley, though the sounds of his laughter doesn’t put you at ease in quite the same way as it did earlier. Em’s laughing too, and she looks gorgeous in the golden light. At least she’s put together in a way you’re so obviously not. Maybe you should have taken your mother’s well-meant advice when you were younger - dress to impress, for you never know who you’re going to meet. But you haven’t taken that advice, choosing to dress simply and comfortably. It works when you can’t wear any makeup when you work in a laboratory and when all of your nice clothes would be at risk of chemical spills at worst and covered by a lab coat at best. So you walk through life in a swirl of well-worn jeans, tee-shirts, yoga pants, tank tops, camisoles, sneakers and sandals. There are a few dressier items in your closet, but they’re so far in the back that you haven’t worn them in probably a year and a half. Em’s cute outfit and wavy, non-greasy hair probably feel like a breath of fresh air to him. The same goes for the timber of her voice and how she sounds so elegant. 
If you didn't know any better (because you know Em, you do), you'd think that the words the two of them are sharing by the counter now are flirtier than settling up a bill. It doesn’t help the green, envious monster sitting on your shoulder, though. Nor does it help when you run to the restroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look worse than you thought you did. Your face is wan and pale, the bags under your eyes have bags, and your hair is so greasy that it lays limp when you release it from your bun. Your lips are chapped, and fuck, how did you manage to drip coffee onto yourself?! You only drank one cup! What's left to show you that you've made a huge fool of yourself?
Your hands shake as you splash water on your face and put your hair back in its sad bun again. Just a little longer and you'll be home, wallowing in peace at yet another failed potential relationship. At least the water has brought a blush to your cheeks and cleaned the worst of the smudges off your glasses. Bradley probably has Em's phone number by now, right? It's probably best not to get your hopes up too high, else you find yourself falling from a prodigious height.
Instead, you're pleasantly surprised to see him still in the shop.
“Hey!” His face lights up when he sees you, and you're sure your earlier pep-talk about managing your expectations hasn’t worked at all. This is going to hurt. “So, I know talking to a stranger for hours at a coffee shop probably isn't the best first date. So would you maybe want to go on a real one sometime soon?”
“Y-you're serious?” He smiles and hands you his phone, unlocked.
“Put your number in there, Paper.” Your mind's not working at all as you type the ten digits in. 
“Why me?” 
His smile is warm and fond as he takes the phone back, types something and hits send. Your notification tone goes off soon after. 
“It's not every day I run into a pretty girl listening to me reading a romance novel who doesn't fawn all over me once they realize who I am. It's been nice talking to you. I feel like you're the first person in a long time to see Bradley, not Rooster.”
He holds the door open for you, a hand finding its way to the small of your back as he walks you out to your car. He even opens the door for you, a chivalrous action which has your heart flip-flopping in your chest. “Baby doll?”
“Yeah?” He takes advantage of the height difference between you to tip your face up as he feathers a kiss across the apple of your cheek.
“It helps that your ass looks damn good in those yoga pants!” 
You're laughing despite yourself as you drive away. Maybe audiobooks aren't as bad as you think? Or, well, at least their narrators aren't.
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
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Taglist:
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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year
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The Nanny part 2
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note: here's part two to the nanny! i'm hopefully going to try and start to get longer pieces out soon, i'm still trying to get back into the swing of writing fics again.
warnings: mentioned of parental death
trigger warning: one sentence in the fourth paragraph that talks about school shooting, but no violence actually occurs.
word count: 1.6k (sorry it's short, between yesterday and today i've had a headache that wouldn't go away :( )
no beta again, we die like men
inspired by: @roosterforme
previous part | next part
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You just moved to California, wanting a change from the cold Vermont air and where better to stay than with your aunt, Penny Benjamin. Penny was your mom’s sister, an unfortunate accident in 1999 took your mother and your father, you were 10 years old. Penny was more than willing to take in her only niece, even if it meant having you relocate to Virginia with her. 
Years had passed and Penny had done all but adopt you, she called you her daughter when people asked, made all your appointments for you until you were old enough to make your own, she helped you with boys, and then girls, when you came out to her. She held you while you cried over your first real heartbreak, she taught you all about your period and safe sex. She made you feel comfortable, like you could go to her with any problem that you had, and she would fix it for you.
Maybe it also helped that your grandfather was an admiral in the United States Navy, but that’s beside the point, Penny Benjamin took care of you when you had no one once, and she was more than happy to do it again. 
Being a teacher, especially in today’s world, is hard. You had to worry about whether or not your school was going to fall victim to the next mass shooting, if you could keep your kids safe in an environment where the legislators didn’t care. It was a hard choice to make, leaving the school system, because you knew that they were already understaffed, and that there were no qualified substitute teachers available to take over your position… but between the abuse from your principal, the students, and the entitled parents? You were done.
You at least waited until the end of the school year before packing it all up and moving west. It was a sad goodbye with all the students you had loved but for your sanity, it was what you needed to do.
Penny had an open bedroom, and Amelia was thrilled to be living with you again, mainly so you can help her on her homework, and of course you were happy to see Penny and Pete back together. You always loved having him around when you were a kid, and it really did feel like your relationship with him never waivered, even though you only texted each other for holidays and birthdays after the last time he and Penny “broke up”. 
You were laying on the couch scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to whatever it was Amelia had put on the tv when Penny walked in after her short shift at the bar; it was a slow weekend and Jimmy had it plenty under control.
“Hey, so I might have told one of the guys Pete works with that you’d be willing to nanny for him.” Penny says as soon as she walks in.
“Are you talking to me?” Amelia asks, not looking away from the tv and Penny laughs.
“No, your sister.” 
That catches your attention and you groan.
“I don’t want to nanny some old admiral’s bratty kids.” you say as you sit up and Penny sits next to you.
“He isn’t an old admiral with bratty kids, he’s 35, the same age as Bradley, and he literally just had an infant dropped off on his front porch today.” she tells you and you look over at her. “He needs a lot of help, and you would be perfect for the job. Aside from working at the bar you’re never doing anything.” she shrugs and steals some of the popcorn that was on the table and you look at her with your mouth open.
“Okay, first off. Rude. Secondly, I do plenty of stuff!”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Uh, I help Amelia with her homework.”
“And you can help her while also helping Jake out with his daughter.” Penny says and you sigh.
“Fine.” you grumble and head into the kitchen, “do you eat yet, Pen?”
“Yeah, Pete brought me food to the bar.”
“Don’t you… serve food at the bar too?” 
“Not sushi.” 
You spend the next three weeks waiting to meet this Jake guy. Sure you knew of him, but you didn’t want to be persuaded by the ‘Hangman’ persona that he had before becoming a dad. Sure people don’t just change overnight, so you’re sure he still has quite the mouth and attitude, especially if this baby is keeping him up at night. 
You opened the bar early and the members of the Dagger Squad slowly filtered in. Bob was sitting at the bar with you while you were getting bottles ready, he was telling you a story from when he was a kid on his family’s farm and he was chasing down pigs and slipped and fell in the mud when the bell above the door rang. 
Looking over, you see a man you don’t recognize carrying a little baby in the cutest little dress you’ve ever seen, a diaper bag slung over his other shoulder. You shoot him a smile as he walks up to the bar.
“Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.” you say as you wipe a rag over the bar top, cleaning up some of the iced tea that Bob spilled. “You must be Jake?” 
This new man smiles at you and nods, “Yes ma’am.” he says, setting the diaper bag on a barstool. 
You watch his muscles flex as he shifts his daughter from one side to the other to give his arm a break and he catches you staring at her. “This is Avery.” he turns so you can see the little girl’s face and you let out a gentle little coo.
“Oh look at you! Aren’t you just the cutest little girl.” you say, talking in a voice that has her laughing and reaching out for you. You take her from Jake without even hesitating and she plays with the fingerprint pendants of your parents that you have hanging around your neck. 
Since the bar is still technically closed for another hour and a half, you make your way out from behind the bar and take a seat on the stool next to Bob who smiles at the little girl, pulling away as she tries to reach for his glasses but isn’t quick enough as she rubs her chubby fingers over his lenses. 
You and Jake just laugh at her antics and at poor Bob who is left with baby drool covered glasses for the time being, but even he can’t stay mad at little Avery. She looks up at you, blue-green eyes bright as she smiles her little gummy smile and laughs along with the two of you. 
Jake can’t believe how comfortable Avery already is with you, it took days for her to warm up to anyone aside from Penny; she still doesn’t like Rooster but Jake believes it's a hundred percent because of his mustache. Normally he’s nervous when she’s around strangers of any kind, even her own doctor when she first saw the woman, but with you he’s oddly… comfortable. 
Begrudgingly you hand Avery back to Jake, you have to open the bar in 20 minutes and you’re already way behind but thankfully Bradley volunteers to help you get ready. You’re standing next to him slicing limes as he cuts up some oranges.
“You know, she’s never taken to someone that fast before.” he says, making sure the slices are relatively uniform.
“It’s because I’m a woman.” you tease and he rolls his eyes.
“No, seriously. Penny was a given because she’s just the best, but Phoenix? Bob? She only just started to get along with them, and those two are the best people in this entire squad. It even took her a bit to warm up to Hangman and he’s her dad.” Rooster says, stealing an orange slice that he cut too thin before taking a beer from the fridge under the counter and walking away.” 
“You have to pay for that!” 
“Put it on my tab, Rings!” he calls out, throwing a wink over his shoulder and you roll your eyes, opening a tab for him before going over to the window and flipping the ‘open’ sign on.
You’re about halfway through your shift when Jake walks up to you, Avery sleeping against him despite the volume of the bar. 
“Hey, headed home?” you ask, taking the top off of a few beers before handing them to the patron that was waiting. 
“Yeah, figured she would prefer to sleep in her bed tonight than on the pool table.” he jokes and you give a gentle laugh.
“Yeah, probably.”
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out this weekend? Talk about what Pen offered? If-if you still think you can help me out?” he chews his lip a little, nervous for you to say you’re not interested.
“Yeah! Definitely, uh… here,” you grab a napkin and write your number down with a little cartoon drawing of a circle with a ring around it, how you always signed your nickname. “I’m off on Saturday and Penny isn’t opening on Sunday since it’s going to be such a hot night, she wants us to be off so I’ll be free whenever on both days.” you tell him and he tucks the napkin in his pocket with his phone.
“I’ll text you on Saturday? I can pick you up? Or I mean-” you cut him off with a laugh.
“You can pick me up, I assume you know where Penny lives?” he nods and smiles.
“Yeah, yeah I do.”
“Great, see you on Saturday, Dad-man.” you give him a wink before turning away to go help Jimmy out with the patrons that have gathered around the bar. Jake laughs and turns around to head out, Dad-man?
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formosusiniquis · 6 months
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today is a new day to find you
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Eddie is having the worst day known to man. It might qualify as a catastrophic event. Missing homework, lunch spilled on the cafeteria floor, broken strings at band practice, and that's not even touching Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington who keeps talking to him like they're friends. Steve Harrington who has become a new person overnight. Steve Harrington who keeps making hypotheticals about time loops. Steve Harrington who is somehow the best and worst part of his day.
AKA my @steddiebang fic!!
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan & Steve Harrington & Carol Perkins; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler; Corroded Coffin & Eddie Munson WC: 57K | Rated M | Tags/Themes: Time Loop, Sort of No Upside Down AU, Angst w/Happy Ending, King Steve Growth Arc
Check out my fantastic artists who brought this fic to life, I've been so blessed to have them pick out my fic to make art for! You can find @sammichtastic on twitter at sammichesnstuff and her piece here! You can find @milkychai on twitter too at at milkychai and their piece here!
And a special thank you to my Beta @rainingingeorgia who really helped whip what you're seeing into shape!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five (FINISHED)
It was, in a word, fucked that he had to take gym a second time along with the rest of senior year. It was, in several words, absolutely fucking bullshit because he had actually passed gym the first time. Surely, his senior gym credit should still count, even if he’d treated it like office hours to set up deals with meatheads in a venue that didn’t actively put him in harm's way. Well, mostly out of harm’s way, as the blood spotting his uniform shirt can attest.
Hell, there were some days his last block gym class was the only one he’d attend. Slipping in with the bell at 2:15 in time to be the last one in the locker room and out on the line for attendance. Now he’s being forced back through it for what? No seriously, for what? Surely there was some other elective that could fit in this block, shouldn’t the second year senior get first dibs at study hall or something.
Maybe if he complains enough about the loss of his civil liberties. His freedom of expression is being taken from him by forcing him into this shit uniform. Maybe if he’s a big enough headache they’ll just let him leave. He’s learned the rules to enough of these little sports, there had to be a test he could take to prove that he doesn’t need to be a walking target on a volleyball court.
Not that he thinks Jenny Marshall meant to peg him in the face and give him a bloody nose, but the sentiment stands. Between the shorts and the blood he looks like a sad shaky shelter dog or something.
There are, of course, some fringe benefits. Eddie may have to wear the signature Tiger green, but so does Steve Harrington, who definitely has the legs for the outrageously short gym uniform they’re forced to dress out in. And if he’s going to keep looking for that silver fucking lining like he promised Uncle Wayne he would; thanks to Jenny Marshall he gets to ride the bleachers and watch pretty, pretty Steve Harrington bounce around in those shorts for the rest of class. Maybe a more bronzed lining than silver, Harrington hangs onto the sun warmed summer glow even with the October chill creeping in. Freckled thighs with nary a tan line in sight Eddie lets himself wonder if the rumors that had circled the big 18th birthday bash are true: when Harrington’s not in the swim team speedo he doesn’t swim in anything at all.
The volleyball net that Steve is playing at, floppy and torn, is more of a suggestion than a barrier. Now that Eddie is benched, it’s Harrington’s five against Hargrove’s four. The tides haven’t changed in anyone’s favor.
Billy had placed himself across from Harrington at the start of the game, his patience rewarded now as they rotate positions and the King is once again opposite him in the front row. That not-barrier doing all it can to keep the two a foot apart, Hargrove pacing in the eighteen inches of space his position in front of Steve allows. Jenny and her nose killer serve send the ball over to Hargrove’s side of the net. They get it up in the air again and Hargrove smacks the ball down hard between Steve and Sarah Smith. 
It hits the floor with a thwack that makes Eddie wince. Almost drowning out Billy’s mean little laugh, but there’s no missing the smug look on his face. The far too proud of himself smirk he sends somewhere to the left of Steve. 
It’s for Steve though. Definitely for Steve.  
The usurper to the throne, Hargrove has been sniffing for weakness that Eddie was pretty sure wasn’t there. The closest Harrington has ever come to failure was last year’s attempts at Nancy Wheeler, one he seemed to give up as soon as it started.
Tommy H. would be the reason, if Eddie had any guesses. He tried to base an NPC group around the Harrington court once. Tommy a loyal knight to a mostly inept king. Tommy who sidles up close to Sarah, despite his own maiden the Lady Carol playing one net over, smirking the same smug smile as Hargrove -- maybe another weak spot in the Harrington reign -- he says something loud enough to embarrass Sarah if the way she flushes and scurries closer to Harrington’s side is any indication but not enough for Eddie to make out.
He never did get the character balances to work in the game. He scripted and broke down motivation and drive but every time he just couldn’t figure out what Hagan did for Steve. Couldn’t figure out why Harrington kept his so-called friends around.
Gym takes too damn long to end. Or maybe it ends too soon. The final bell that releases him from his prison like Cthulu from the deep is buried quickly under the ringing in his ears as Steve Harrington is calling his name. Resignation fills his spirit, but when the King beckons you wait.
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igotanidea · 8 months
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Cinnamon: werewolf!Jason Todd x reader
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Request: Yes, by anon ;)
Happy birthday to the one and only Jay Todd!
***
“Out of everyone, it has to be him, why!?”
“Are you jealous, Grayson?” Damian raise an eyebrow at his older brother. Much to everyone’s surprise, the blood soon spend last half an hour listening to Dick ranting and complaining about how unfair it was that out of the entire batfamily it was Jason who get the ability to turn into a wolf. And to make the situation even worse, he was an alpha.
“Jealous?! No! Of course not! Definitely not! Maybe a little…..?”
“If anything he envies Jason that little beta girl, he’s been seeing…….” Stephanie chimes in, chuckling at Dick’shock.
“A…. a beta? So what, he’s got a girlfriend now? Why don’t I know it?!”
“Are you three having fun gossiping about my life?!” Jason leans on the doorframe clearly annoyed at his siblings talking and discussing his private matters.
“Plenty.” Damian smirks vindictively
“You have a girlfriend?!” Dick looks at Jason with the biggest doe eye possible, trying his best to get any information out.
“Screw you Dickhead…..”
“Come on, Jaybird, don’t be like that!”
“I’m not telling you shit!”
“Pleeeeaaasseeeeee…….” Dick grabs his little brother, clinging to him, dead set on not letting go before retrieving as little as the scraps “You never tell me anything anymore….”
“Yeah… wonder why is that…..” Stephane mutters sipping on her slushie
“You’re insufferable, Grayson……”
“I’m just your wonderful, caring, older brother……”
“Nosy, intrusive, controlling, gossiping…..” J
“Hey! That is….. a bit true…..” Dick pouts “but still caring!!”
“I’m done with you. I’m going out…..” Jace mutters turning towards the door
“Can I watch you turn?!” Damian yells after him, his love for the animals taking over as the youngest Wayne rushes after Jason, hoping to see him transform into that beautiful, majestic wolf. “Todd!!”
However, what comes in package with being a werewolf is speed and even Damian with Robin skills could not compare with the rate of transformation. When Damian reached the door, Jason was already gone, the only trail of him being the imprint of foot on the path leading to the manor.
“Damn…..”
***
Jason refused to answer any of Dick’s question not because of how intrusive they were, but because he was afraid to be forced to put a tag on what he had with Y/N.
She was… something.
And he felt something for her.
Even if he wasn’t sure what it was.  
It was not normal for an alpha to get connected to beta. The rule was simple as it was. Alpha paired with omega. ALWAYS. So Y/N was an anomaly. On every possible field.
And now his wolf instinct made him run to her. Her scent were calling him.
Cinnamon.
She always smelled like cinnamon.
Maybe it was because of her human profession, since she was a baker and her show-off dish was cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Or maybe not. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything, but the animal in him felt that smell and craved her.
So he run. As fast as his furry body and four strong legs allowed him.
He needed her.
And he could feel something was wrong.
He found her in the forest next to her house, her white fur shining in the light, as she laid her head on the paws looking …. sad. Like a beaten dog.
But the second she sensed him, she put the head up, looking his direction tilting it at him in the same gesture she did in her human form. And it made him feel again, wanting to do something, anything to cheer her up somehow.
Maybe he could try chasing her around? That was something that would make him feel better, surely, but Y/N was a lady in every meaning of the word. As surprising as that sounded, she hated getting dirty, avoided getting dirty, always cleaned her fur after stepping into the mud. Like a royalty. Which was even more shocking considering the fact, that as a baker she had flour everywhere on her face and clothes and hair. Maybe that was why her fur was white.
“Hey, Jace….” She called to him telepathically
“You good, Y/N?”
“just tired. Busy day at the bakery. Needed to get out of the human form and just feel instead of think.”
“Explains why you’re in the forest.”
“You look like you needed escape too.”
“Oldest brother getting intrusive.”
“Oh, yeah, family troubles….” If she was a human he would chuckle at that moment.
“Speaking from experience?”
“Maybe…..”
“Wanna run?”
“No.”
“All right…..” he walks towards her and nudge her nose with his playfully, nuzzling his head into his, hoping whatever it is on her mind will subside when he make her feel.
“Jace….?”
“I know….” he plops on the ground, paws in front of him waving his tail a sign for her to lay next to him. He knows. He knows exactly what she needs. He can feel it. And he lets her. No matter how out-of –character it may seem for him. He signed up for this. He signed up for her. And to be completely honest (not that he would admit it to Grayson, of course) he likes those silent moment with her. Only them in their wolf forms, out of the civilisation, out in the open, feeling, hearing, sensing. It’s nice and peaceful and quiet and he feels like he can be himself when she’s next to him, so close.  And it was enough. It was perfect.
***
Couple hours later, still in his werewolf form he walked her back home, not that she needed escort, but he wanted to do this. Or maybe he didn’t want to part with her.
Acting like a gentleman he turned around when Y/N turned back into human, grabbing a shirt from behind the door to cover herself. She had a twig in her messy hair, her eyes were big and shiny and her heartbeat was significantly faster than it should. Side effects of transmutation.
He should go.
He really should go.
But the way she kept standing on the threshold looking at him made him stay, unable to make a single move.
They both felt the connection.
Wolf and human.
Human and wolf.
Two wolfs. Two humans.
“Jason…..?” she trailed, taking a step forward, reaching for his fur and stroking it gently, causing him to lean into his touch. Neither of them seemed to care that the neighbours might be surprised to see a giant wolf in front of the house in the suburbs.
He knew it was not easy for her to show herself to him in her human form. It could only mean one thing. She needed him to take care of her. She needed to feel his warm, big, strong, animal body next to her. His warmth, his presence, his soft, silky pelage.
“Stay?” she whispered. “I really need some company tonight. And I had the door rebuilt to make sure you fit in inside. Please?” she looks into his eyes and it’s like as if she was reaching straight to his soul.
He can’t leave her.
Even if his sibling would tease him in the morning about not coming home for the night.
He can’t leave her.
He’s more than happy to lay on the floor in her leaving room having her arms wrapped tightly around him, making her feel safe and taken care of. Serving as her pillow.
Feeling her.
Feeling the cinnamon smell.
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