#i SWEAR i will let you know if i take another break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snowyquokka · 2 days

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jeongin x fem reader

cw: angst (😈), breakup, kissing, swearing, mutual pining, mentions of cheating, kinda toxic/asshole seungmin (FORGIVE ME), not proof read bc why tf would i do that (im too lazy so my apologies if some of it doesn’t make sense lmfao-)

wc: 3.1k

a.n - so this is not how it was originally supposed to be 😭 it started as a seungmin fic but spiraled into whatever monstrosity this is lmao. everyone thank @solisyeah for the request ily. anywho i hope it’s good <3

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Seungmin furrows his brows as he inspects the photo on his screen. A photo of you with another guy, in his lap with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Just like you do with Seungmin.

On the very couch he’s sitting on.

At first he thought it was edited, because there’s no way you’d cheat on him, right? But as he took a closer look he just knew it was real.

He was tired, sore, and downright miserable from a rough day at the studio; he had to take way too many breaks for his liking and this picture was just the thing he needed to send him right off the deep end.

He shot up from his spot on the couch so fast it made his head spin, but that didn’t deter him from storming into your bedroom where you were sitting on the bed, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. Once you see his face you can automatically sense something’s wrong.

“Seung?” You tilt your head as you watch him take your apartment key off of his key ring before placing it on your dresser with a clink.

“Seungmin what are you doing?” You jump off of your bed as he slides his shoes on. He runs his fingers through his hair with a frustrated huff.

“I don’t- I think we just need a break. I need a break.” These words were the last thing you imagined to ever come out of his mouth, in this context especially. Or lack there of.

“Wha- why?” Your eyes glaze over with unshed tears that threaten to spill at any given moment. You don’t want to cry in front of him, you’ve always hated having your raw emotions on display like that, especially in such a powerless situation. “Seungmin, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m not stupid.” Seungmin shakes his head “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”

“Hide what, Seungmin?”

“You should’ve just fucking left me. Spared my feelings, maybe. But I guess you’re just too selfish for that.”

Without another word he rushes out of the room, leaving you in shambles with nothing else to do but slide to the floor, curl into yourself and let the sobs take over your body.

Seungmin can hear you crying before he even walks out of the front door, causing his heart to clench in his chest and his gut to twist. Standing with his hand just brushing the door handle, he has to physically force himself to press on, to let you go, to accept his reality. The door slams shut behind him and the noise only pushes you further towards the realization that this is actually happening. You aren’t hallucinating, this isn’t some fucked up fever dream or an even more fucked up prank.

You just wish you knew why. No matter how much you try to put the pieces together, you’re always missing something. You can’t think of anything that could’ve set him off. Everything was perfectly normal less than an hour ago, yet all it took was five minutes to trigger the downward spiral of what feels like the end of the world- the end of your world.

“What’re you doing back here?” Jeongin slides next to Seungmin - who is still eyeing up the picture on his screen - on the floor. Jeongin nods towards the phone, “What’s that?”

Seungmin huffs and leans his head against the wall behind him, “I honestly don’t fucking know, I don’t even really want to know, actually.”

Jeongin reaches for the phone, pulling it out of Seungmin’s grasp. His lips part in a silent ‘oh’ as he inspects the photo. He’s assuming Seungmin hadn’t even given you a chance to explain solely based on his reaction, in typical Seungmin fashion. Jeongin turns his body to face the other, his face set in an almost disappointed expression.

“I’m going to say this with the utmost respect and I need you to not cause me any bodily harm-” Jeongin sighs before continuing, “You’re a dumbass. Like the dumbest dumbass I think I’ve ever seen. Like paboracha level dumbass. I’m talking-”

“Are you done?” Seungmin groans and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Are you done? God- you just fucked yourself over. If I were you I’d start praying that she’ll still take you back after all this crazy shit.”

“How did I fuck myself oven when she’s the one cheating? Or am I supposed to just forget about that and take the blame for it all like usual? She brought another guy into the same place I spend almost all my time at, and probably fucked hi-” Jeongin slaps his hand over Seungmin’s mouth, effectively silencing him before he could carry on with his bullshit.

“Hyung. Shut up.” The maknae slowly pulls his hand away as Seungmin’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Look I get it, you’re tired, you’re upset, you’re angry bu-”

“Can you fucking blame me? I can’t unsee it. I mean, you see how comfortable she looked with him.” he clenches his fists.

“Will you keep your mouth closed already? You’re killing me here, got a massive migraine now.” Jeongin groans and rubs his temples as he speaks “That picture was taken over a year ago. Before you even knew she existed, hyung. Besides, I know her better than anyone ever will, other than you obviously, which is why I suggest that you get your ass up and go apologize for being such a dumb fuck. Beg for her forgiveness if you gotta. Maybe get on your knees while you’re at it.” he sighs and stands, holding his hand out to Seungmin before pulling him up.

“How do you know she isn’t lying to you? How do you know she isn’t lying about anything else?” Seungmin finally says.

“Because she loves you too much to do that to you. God, have you always been this dense? You seriously need to wake up and realize how stupid you sound.” Jeongin mocks, prompting Seungmin to glare at him one last time before walking out of the studio. All the while unbeknownst to the younger standing with a frown threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth.

“He’s a fucking idiot if he let’s her go over this,” he mutters begrudgingly while he listens to the soft pur of Seungmin’s car in the distance.

Almost a week later you’re still waking up with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. The first thing you notice is Seungmin’s apartment key still sitting on the dresser untouched. Well, it used to be his. You were really hoping that it was all just a shitty nightmare and that you’d still be tucked in his side with his soft snores being the only sound to fill the room even though it’s days.

You realize what had stirred you awake as another knock fills the almost suffocating silence. You’re half tempted to just ignore it, but something in your gut tells you to answer it.

“Oh, uhm- hi Innie.” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. Or Seungmins hoodie, rather.

God you need to pull yourself together. How could you not even realize what you were wearing. Fuck.

“Hey,” Jeongin rocks back on his heels somewhat awkwardly, “Can I come in?”

You nod and mumble a soft ‘of course‘ as you move out of the way for him to slip past the threshold and into your apartment while you take a moment to collect yourself, and to put on the most convincing smile you can possibly muster.

“What’s up?” you find a spot on the couch next to him as he scans the room for a second, looking for any signs of whether or not Seungmin actually showed.

“He’s not here, is he?” Jeongin turns to you with sympathetic eyes, finding your own longing for comfort, seemingly pleading him for some sort of consolation.

“N-no but he’ll probably be back so-”

“He’s not coming back, y/n. If he was, it would’ve been days ago.”

Before you can open your mouth to protest, Jeongin has you pulled into his strong chest and tucks your head under his chin gently. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” he sighs, rubbing small and slow circles on your back just the way he knows you like. He places a small, chaste kiss on the top of your head because he’s learned over the years that the action relaxes you and makes you feel secure.

Jeongin knows you like the back of his hand. Sometimes he thinks he knows you better than he knows himself. He knows your favorite food, your favorite season, your favorite movie. He knows how much you love to read, having periodically skimmed your shelves for books you may have and promptly buying you ones that you haven’t already buried your nose in.

Most importantly, he knows exactly what to say in order to subside your bad moods (he’s well seasoned in this field), and that sometimes you say things you don’t mean yet he never - and will never - hold that against you.

He knows just how much you loved Seungmin, not even wanting to imagine the amount of absolute heartbreak you’re feeling. Despite all this, he can’t help but feel somewhat relieved. You and Seungmin undoubtedly wouldn’t have worked in the long run and that’s exactly what you desire and deserve: a stable, long term relationship where you’d be taken care of and treated like the absolute goddess that Jeongin thinks you are.

He just wishes you give him a chance to treat you like his- more so than he already does now.

“Thank you, In,” you mumble into his chest.

“You don’t need thank me, baby. You know I’m always here.”

You did know that, you’ve always known that. Jeongin doesn’t let you doubt how much he cares for you, he’ll spend every waking moment reminding you if he has to.

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes. “I always end up burdening you with my problems.” Jeongin’s eyes soften at your apology and all he wants to do is hug and kiss and cuddle you until he thinks he’s convinced you enough of his adoration.

But for now all he can do is settle for words, though he can’t help but think it won’t be enough.

“Baby, please don’t be sorry for that. What kind of best friend would I be if I never listened to your complaints or rants?” Calling himself your best friend took more out of him than it should have and he tries to hide his hesitation. Thankfully you hadn’t noticed.

Hearing Jeongin say this makes you realize that he’s treated you better than any boyfriend you’ve ever had. Seungmin never reassured you like Jeongin does. Actually, now that you think about it, Seungmin didn’t do half of the things Jeongin does, even if it was the bare minimum.

He’s always like this, but why does it feel different now?

That’s just his personality, right? There isn’t any hidden meaning behind his words or gestures. Or the way he’s holding you and speaking to you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever had contact with. The sudden urge to reach out and cup his face is unreal. You just want to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. You wonder how you managed to find such a perfect person who thinks the world of you just as much as you do them. Someone who loves you just as deeply and truly as you do.

Wait what?

You’ve singlehandedly scared and confused yourself all at once now. Obviously you love him and he does you, but it feels as though you love him in a different way. A special way, one that you don’t think you’ve ever felt for anyone. Not even Seungmin, who you once thought was hands down your soulmate.

What you failed to realize, however, was that your soulmate has been here the whole time, and he’s holding you in his arms like he never wants to let you go.

You cut off your train of thought because he doesn’t want you like that and you’re making assumptions that could get you hurt.

Too late.

Another wave of sadness that has nothing to do with what upset you earlier washes over you.

“Baby? Hey, where’d you go?” Baby. Fucking baby. He’s got to stop calling you that. You want to tell him to stop, so why can’t you open your mouth and form those simple words.

“Mhm, ’m okay.” You can’t even bring yourself to put the tiniest bit of distance between your bodies.

You mentally scream at yourself for sounding so noticeably pathetic. He must think you are how could he not when you’re making it so painfully obvious.

“Don’t hide from me, baby. You know you don’t need to hide anything from me.” How ironic.

“I’m not- I just-” you huff and lean your forehead against Jeongin’s chest. God, when did he get so…buff? Has he always been like this?

He pulls your head back to force your gaze to meet his. “What did I tell you, hm? Talk to me baby. I’m all ears.” His arms encircling your body is the last straw before the world comes crashing down on you.

Tears flood your vision and you aren’t even sure as to why you’re crying this time.

Pathetic and dramatic. Great.

Jeongin immediately thinks he’s overstepped now, he took it too far and made you uncomfortable. He removes his hands from you immediately though the action kills him inside, when in reality you want the exact opposite. You want him to pull you closer, you want your chest flush against his to the point where you can feel his heart beating.

“I’m sorry, Innie. I’m sorry.” You finally climb out of his grasp and step away from him. He follows you and with every step he takes forward you move backward until you collide with the wall.

“Why are you sorry when you didn’t do anything wrong? I don’t want you apologizing to me for no reason. If anyone should be apologizing it’s Seungmin, but it’s his fault and his loss, you know that.” You wish Jeongin would stop being so supportive, it’s making it ten times harder to ignore your surfacing issues.

“That’s not the problem, Jeongin.”

Since when did you call him by his full name?

“Then what is it? Is it me? Please I- I just want to help you.”

Your tears have finally halted and you couldn’t be more thankful. You need to be able to properly look into his eyes.

“You can’t help me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?”

“I’m not.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Jeongin blows out a frustrated huff. “Why can’t you tell me? Is it because Seungmin and I are friends becau-”

“I love you.”

“I know you do, which exactly is why you should be talking to me right now instead of bottling it all up-”

“No, Jeongin. I love you. Not in a friend way, not in a platonic way. I want to kiss you and hold you and-” You’ve worked yourself up so much you have cut yourself off in order to calm down.

Jeongin’s mouth stays agape for a solid five seconds before he even processes what you’ve said. “You love me?”

“Is that not what I just said?” Jeongin has to bite back his smile at your remark but quickly frowns again at the expression on your face. You look regretful, like you wish you never spoke. You’re just waiting for his rejection, willing it to come faster so you he’ll leave and you can wallow in self pity by yourself in the comfort of your bed. You disturbed the peace that was your friendship.

“I- the breakup is still fresh and you aren’t thinking straight, baby. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Jeongin pleads. Is he trying to convince you or himself?

“But I do mean it Jeongin. I really do and I can’t believe it took me this fucking long to figure it out and I wish I’d never caught feelings because this is just a shit show now.”

He goes to speak but you quickly interrupt him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Just forget about it,” you expect him to leave, or to at least move away. But he doesn’t, instead he leans in closer to your ear and whispers in a hushed tone,

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop apologizing, baby?” The way he says ‘baby’ sends shivers down your spine, it’s different than the other times he’s called you that. This time his words actually do have a hidden meaning. His breath ghosts the shell of your ear for a moment before he slowly pulls back to look at you. As if he hasn’t studied your every feature to the point where you’re engraved in his mind.

“You have to promise me that you actually understand what you’re saying and that it isn’t the post breakup neediness talking.” He looks at you sternly and fully expecting a response in words.

You, on the other hand, have absolutely no intention of speaking as you instead grab him by the collar of his hoodie before pressing your lips against his.

Kissing your best friend is much more intimate than you ever expected. He kisses you like it’s not the first time and with more than enough purpose. It starts off aggressive but soon simmers down into a delightfully slow and passionate rhythm and as cliche as it sounds, it’s in this moment that you finally know where you belong, where your home is.

No matter the circumstances, Jeongin always left a space for you in his heart. His subconscious wouldn’t let him fill it with someone else even if he wanted (which he didn’t), forever waiting for you to find the spot with your name written all over it and stay there for as long as you may live.

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tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @myseungsunglove @seungseung-minmin @azuna-sz @chanyeolsrealwife

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juuuulez · 3 days

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📰 | brat taming, richie jerimovich.

(pure filth guys…blowjob, facefucking, lowkey degrading anndduhhhh then some more sex…)

(also i’m crazy i just wrote another whole richie fic so expect that tomorrow i’m insane.)

“i can’t take it.”

“you can, and you fuckin’ will, princess.”

the punishment for being a brat has always been the same, so really, you should’ve expected this.. but at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

it was richie’s day off, and you had this whole mental plan about staying in bed, getting to enjoy your boyfriend and keep him all to yourself. but apparently the beef was short staffed, and he’d decided to go in anyway, despite mikey’s insistence that it was fine. in truth, it probably wasn’t fine, but that didn’t matter: today was your day.

so you’d stopped by on his lunch break. except richie skipped the break in favour of a cigarette and getting back into the muck. now, you had his best interest at heart, you swear! all you wanted was for him to take a moment. or maybe that’s the excuse you told yourself.

“don’t be a baby ‘bout it.” richie grunts through a clenched jaw, one hand with a firm grip on your cheek, and the other at the base of your skull. “you asked for this, sweetheart. now you’re gonna fuckin’ take it.”

your jaw is opened impossibly wide, his cock buried to the hilt, struggling to breathe through your nose. his grip is unforgiving and doesn’t let you move, willing down the urge to gag around his length as air forgoes you as he rocks his hips deeper. tears have sprung in your eyes, messily slipping down red cheeks and making wet tracks on your neck.

it was the tiny skirt that did it. when you’d sauntered into the kitchen, trying to find richie. it barely covered the globes of your ass, the ends of little spandex shorts peaking out: he would’ve preferred you completely naked, because fuck, those shorts really did it for him, the way they hid absolutely nothing.

and you’d done it on purpose. made sure to linger in the office doorway for an extra moment, having some offhanded conversation with mikey that didn’t even fucking matter, because what were you doing? then you’d offered to help out with the rush, going out front to buss some tables, undoubtably attracting the attention of anyone else in the restaurant.

your hands fist at the fabric of richie’s sweats, the garment pushed down just enough to release his cock. his work shirts still on, as the pair of you had landed on the couch, where you were promptly shoved to your knees. he revels in how small your hands look on his spread thighs, rocking once, twice more into your hot mouth, feeling ten times more aroused simply by the power he holds over you.

and you know when he’s about to cum, of course you do, and it has you trying to pull off. you had been hoping he’d still fuck you, as part of the punishment, spilling his load deep inside where you’d still be able to get an inkling of satisfaction.

“nu-uh,” he chastises, voice rough and breathy, “stay right where ’ya fuckin’ are.”

so, you do. and when you pull off, your tongue is sticky with it, a salty taste that clings to the back of your throat. richie’s hand squeezed your jaw, putting pressure on the hinge that forces your mouth open, admiring his work. “swallow.” he’ll tell you, to which you do, sickeningly obedient for someone with a habit of causing trouble.

he won’t fuck you, either. you’ll try to beg for it, pulling out all the stops, batting your wet lashes and kissing at his neck. it takes everything in him to deny you, but he does, successfully.

it’s not until later, curled up in bed, that you finally huff out somewhat of an explanation. “just miss you.” you’ll mumble, face pressed into his fresh shirt, the cotton tickling your nose. “think you work too much.”

it’s not like richie is oblivious, he caught on pretty quickly, but thought it’d be easier to make you work for it. so he relents, previously rough hands now soft as they skim your back, blunt nails gently tracing the curve of your spine.

“could’a used your words,” he’ll shoot back, and despite the scolding tone, he’s already rolled atop you to kiss down your neck. “or do you just get off on bein’ a brat?”

the crude remark makes you roll your eyes, one arm hooking around his broad shoulders, while your other hand rests on his head where it’s tucked into your neck. a sharp bite to your shoulder finally elicits a response, “maybe a little,” you mumble.

it’s okay, because richie still fucks you into the mattress that night. its a bit softer, at least to the best of his abilities: richie isn’t exactly one for slow or gentle, so it ends up being equally as unforgiving as the punishment itself, with the reprieve of his words turning praising and sweet. telling you how good you feel, how much he loves this pussy, so perfect for him. just him.

and he’s right: it’s just for him.

#the bear fx #richie jerimovich x you #richie jerimovich smut #richie jerimovich x reader

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earthtoharlow · 2 days

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Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

2. Pulling Me Back

Every time I try to leave something keeps pulling me back, telling me I need you in my life.

Maryse sat in her car parked outside Jack’s house, her fingers nervously tapping against the steering wheel. She glanced up at the front door, her heart pounding. It had been days since they ran into each other at the studio, and now she was finally mustering up the courage to ring the doorbell.

Taking a deep breath, Maryse got out of her car and walked to the front door. She reached out and pressed the button, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. As she waited, her mind raced with thoughts of what awaited her on the other side of the door. Would they be able to pick up where they left off? Or had too much time passed for them to salvage what they once had?

Before she could dwell on it further, the door swung open, and there Jack stood, a mixture of surprise and joy flickering across his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “I didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

Maryse smiled nervously as her cheeks warmed. “Hey,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, uh…I couldn’t wait,” she admitted, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about us, about everything.”

Jack’s expression softened as he nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Me too.” He admitted, stepping aside to let her in. As she crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind her.

As she followed behind Jack she couldn’t help but look around his new place. She also couldn’t help but notice the minimal decor adorning the walls. It struck her that there were no personal touches, no signs of another person. She wondered if it meant he was still single.

They both sat on the couch, Maryse shifted uncomfortably, stealing glances at Jack, who seemed equally uneasy.

“Look I’m…

“Jack…”

They couldn’t help but both laugh at the silliness of speaking at the same time, the moment breaking the tension that filled the room.

“Sorry, you go first,” Jack said, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“No, you,” Maryse insisted, her eyes searching for a sign of what he was thinking.

Jack takes a deep breath, his eyes locked on Maryse as he begins “I need you to know that I didn’t cheat on you. My ex… she kissed me. I swear, I was pushing her away when you walked in. I know it probably looked bad, but I would never do that to you.” He pauses, his expression pleading for her to believe him.

Maryse listened to Jack ramble about that night. She knew the whole story, Urban had called her the following morning after the night out at the club explaining everything to her. Deep down she knew that Jack would never do that to her and even though she missed him dearly during those lonely nights, she knew that the time apart had been necessary for her growth and self-discovery.

“I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since. I know I should have handled it better, but I froze. I froze because all I could think about was you, and how much I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Maryse reaches out and places a hand on his arm, a gentle gesture to comfort him. “I know, it’s okay. I believe you.” She says softly, her eyes meeting his. “I know you would never intentionally hurt me.”

“A little birdy actually filled me in on what happened months ago,” she begins, her voice steady but filled with vulnerability. “I guess I was just too scared to reach out again because everything seemed so broken, beyond repair.”

“Urban?” Jack asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Maryse nods, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Yeah, Urban,” she confirms, her gaze meeting his. “He told me what happened that night, and I realized that I didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself…”

She pauses before taking a deep breath, her heart pounding nervously. “Now it’s my turn to apologize,” she says softly, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m sorry for making it seem like I didn’t see a future with you, because the truth is, I do. I think I always did. And I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out. I needed time to process everything and figure out what I really wanted.” Maryse watched as Jack’s eyes softened, a flicker of emotion passing across his face.

“I know I messed up.” continues, her voice trembling slightly. “But I love you and I know, for the rest of my life, I won’t stop loving you, ever, because you were meant to be with me. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

A wide grin spreads across Jack’s face when he heard Maryse say she loved him, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. Without hesitation, he pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. With a gentle yet urgent tone, he whispers, “What did you just say?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Maryse’s heart swells with love as she looks into his eyes, seeing the depth of emotion reflected back at her. “I love you,” she says softly, her voice filled with tenderness.

Jack smile widens at her words, and he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. “Say it again,” he murmurs, his breath warm against her skin.

“I love you,” Maryse tells him with even more conviction than before.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Jack closes the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss. They poured all of their love and affection into the embrace.

As they finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with an expression of pure adoration. “I love you more.” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.

Tears of happiness prick at her eyes as she gazes back at him, overwhelmed by the depth of their connection. “Not possible.” Maryse replies, her voice trembling with emotion.

They sat in silence tangled in each other's arms and for the first time in months, they felt relaxed and happy. Maryse felt a sense of gratitude for the journey that had brought her to this moment. She was ready to embrace the future and spend the rest of her life with Jack.

“I have something else to tell you,” Maryse begins, her voice filled with nervousness.

Jack looks at her, curiosity evident in his eyes. “What is it?” he asks, leaning in closer to her.

“I broke my lease,” she confesses, her words hanging in the air between them.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he leans back slightly, processing her revelation. “You broke your lease?” he repeats, in disbelief.

Maryse takes a deep breath, gathering her courage as she continues. “I was wondering… if the offer to move in with you is still available?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, there’s silence between them as they both process her question. Then, Jack's face breaks into a wide grin, his eyes shining with joy.

“Of course it’s still available,” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

With a mischievous grin, Jack scoops Maryse up effortlessly, lifting her over his shoulder as she squeals with laughter. “Hey, what are you doing?” she protests playfully, her laughter bubbling over.

“We have a lot of making up to do, and we need to celebrate!” he replies with a wink, his tone playful.

Maryse giggles, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. “And where exactly are you taking me?” she teases, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“To our soon-to-be shared bedroom,” he declares with a grin, his steps purposeful as he carries her through the house

She laughs, the sound echoing through the air as they make their way down the hallway.

***

AN: PARADE INSIDE MY CITY YEAAAAH shorter chapter but our bbs are happy and back together 🙂‍↕️ thank you for all the love on the last chapter and this series as a whole I appreciate it so much 🫶

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @daphnescorner @angelluv444

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow blurb #flashing lights

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unformula1 · 2 days

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please. (LS2 x OP81)

logan finally has to confront his deepest want. part 3 of "changed" part 2 w/c: 968 day 33/34 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium!!!(series masterlist) masterlist tw: swearing

You are a disappointment.

People don’t like you.

You’re an outcast.

Failure.

Logan suppresses everything he’s feeling right now: anger, rage, regret, sadness, guilt. Everything bottled up in his heart.

Pathetic.

His eyes shut tightly, but everything is clearer than crystal. All of it. Every lasting second of it feels like another shot in the heart. Every striking minute feels like salt poured into the wound. Every memory feels like a twisting dagger.

Logan starts sobbing more violently, bringing his knees up and burying his head in them. His sobs echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and back into his ears.

Worthless.

Logan whispers repeatedly, doing everything to get his thoughts away. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

His door opens.

Shit.

“Yo, Logs, I’m heading-” Alex’s voice is heard.

Logan keeps his head buried, he’s not going to let Alex see him like this.

As if this couldn’t get any worse, he hears Lando in the background. Some muffled voices but he’s with Alex.

“Mate, are you alright?” Alex’s voice softens.

Then he hears footsteps. Alex is walking closer to him, he keeps his head buried tightly, his knees press hard against his head.

Alex’s hand touches Logan’s back, which makes him flinch. He shuts his eyes tightly and breathes.

“You said this would take a few seco-” Lando’s voice can be heard, “Oh.”

Logan continues to keep his head down as Alex sits down next to him.

“Logan?”

Oscar? It’s Oscar’s voice.

Logan can feel more tears brimming, but he continues to silence his sobs.

More footsteps can be heard entering his room, the door closing afterward. Logan doesn’t react.

“You good?” Lando kneels down in front of Logan.

Logan remains stoned in his position. How’s he going to respond, what will he even say? A tear escapes his eye and drops onto the bench cushion, Logan feels a sting in his throat.

He doesn’t know where exactly Oscar is in the room right now, but he just hopes Oscar leaves soon. He cannot let Oscar see him like this, let alone let Oscar know that Logan has been crying about him.

He shuts his eyes and hopes they all leave soon.

“Logan.” Oscar says and Logan almost feels like breaking down into tears.

A few seconds of silence follows and he feels a weight lift off the cushion. Then footsteps, then the door opening, then the door closing.

“Logan.” Oscar’s repeats, “It’s just me now.”

That does not make Logan feel any better. Logan hates this. He wants to see Oscar but not like this.

Oscar clears his throat and slides Logan’s phone under his knees so he sees it. His fatal mistake.

“You’re crying about me.” Oscar deapans.

Straightforward as usual.

Now what? You’re pathetic Logan. You suck Logan.

More thoughts fog up his head. Possible outcomes, all of them are bad.

Oscar laughs at Logan and leaves.

Oscar makes fun of Logan and calls him a sad pathetic loser.

Oscar’s hand stroking Logan’s back almost makes him flinch violently but he resists doing so.

Oscar’s hand continues stroking up and down.

Maybe Oscar would tell everyone and embarrass him.

Oscar calls him pathetic.

“I won’t talk about it if you don’t want me to.” Oscar’s voice is soft, like when Oscar used to talk to Logan.

Is he mocking Logan?

This has got to be a joke, some sick joke. He’s probably being filmed right now.

Logan finally shakes his head. He hates his thoughts right now, they all press down on the back of his head, stopping him from lifting it up and just looking at Oscar.

“Logan, will you please… look at me.” Oscar pleads, his voice growing with concern, “I just want to see that you’re okay.”

No. NO. NO.

The voices resound louder in Logan’s head.

“Logan please.” Oscar’s voice pleads even more.

“Just for a while.” Oscar continues.

NO.

He wants to lift his head up, look at Oscar. Everything else doesn’t want him to. His mind fills up with every single bad outcome possible, all the dreaded thoughts pull him deeper into the abyss.

Logan shakes his head again.

“Just leave me alone.” Logan says, holding back his sobs.

Oscar’s hand leaves Logan’s back and it feels empty now.

Logan feels like slamming his head against a wall. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Logan, I just want to-”

And then, just as if some external force takes over his body, he shouts, “PLEASE. JUST LEAVE.”

A small gasp escapes Oscar’s mouth and he gets up, leaving the room.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

Logan breaks down. He doesn’t hide the sobs anymore, he cries. The tears flow down his cheeks.

What was he thinking?

Pathetic.

Failure.

Worthless.

Of course he fucked up, what was new? Logan Sargeant, the man of all mistakes, the mistake of all mistakes.

He punches the cushion again.

Logan just wishes he was better in everything he did. Then maybe he wouldn’t be such a disappointment. People would stop worrying so much about if he made it out alive. Everything would be so much easier.

You deserve every failure you have.

You were the problem.

You failed.

-------

A few minutes, maybe hours, pass and Logan can feel the dried up marks of tears on his face, staining his cheeks. His eyes are puffy red and his throat stings from sobbing.

He just imagines how Oscar is having fun with Lando and Alex right now, enjoying life and forgetting about Logan.

Nothing new. Mr Unmemorable. Mr Forgettable.

He wipes whatever tears can be wiped off and gets up, slotting his phone into his pocket. He straightens out his clothes and takes a deep breath, walking toward his door.

It’s late already, everyone’s probably left.

He opens the door and walks out.

“Logan-”

32 notes · View notes

taurusgoddess99 · 2 days

Text

Frustration

Felix Catton x f! Reader

MDNI

AN: Hi! It’s been so long since I’ve posted on Tumblr that I’ve forgotten how! I hope y’all enjoy this piece that I’ve word it. It’s smutty. Also, I’m posting on tumblr so I’m sure it’ll be sorta wonky. Thanks!

TW: light choking

His bed creaks up under his weight and he notices that she's barely visible from under his sheets.

He eyes the naked skin of her exposed back, and the stretch marks that covered her hips. The bralette barely contained her full tits and he was frustrated that she wouldn't let him touch.

He crawled on top of her, her ass pressed against his dick, and he groaned into the soft skin of her neck.

“Why can't we fuck again?”

“I don't feel like it.”

It's muffled by the sheets. He groans in frustration before nipping at her neck. She says something that he can't hear, and he pulls on the straps of her bralette. Her head pops up from under the sheets and she shoots him a glare.

“I'm not having sex with you.”

“Why not?”

He hates how whiny he sounds but he continues with his motions. His nose nudges against her shoulder.

“Go away.”

“We're in my house.”

His fingers hooks into her black shorts pulling down the soft fabric. He grins when he sees the bright yellow thong that's tucked neatly between her full ass cheeks.

“I'll eat your pussy.”

“No.”

“I'll eat your ass.”

“You're a pervert.”

He slides his finger down her ass cheeks before pulling at the flimsy thing. She shifts and groans feeling frustrated with Felix and his insatiable appetite. She had came upstairs to nap after lounging by the pool most of the day, and Felix had followed.

“I’m your pervert.”

He flips her over and grins at her. She stares up at him just taking in his big brown doe eyes wondering how she ended up with him in the first place.

“Why don’t you go find, Ollie? I’m sure he’d love to take my place.”

His eyes traced over the swells of her full breast. One of her nipples peaked out at him over her bralette and he couldn’t resist himself. He leaned down and kissed the hardened peak. His tongue lapping over it as he maintained eye contact with her. Her body seemed to go limp under him and he knew he had won.

He always won.

He is Felix Catton after all.

Her fingers tangle in his hair that’s still wet from the pool. His large hands unclapse the little bralette and he pulls away from her supple breast to pull it off of her.

Felix takes over her mind, her body, and everything else. She couldn’t remember what her life was like before Felix. Her thumb rubs his cheek as they make eye contact. The words bubbles up her throat threatening to spill but they can’t come out. Not yet anyway.

Her whole life is Felix Catton.

He knows it.

His lips brushes over her collarbone. His nose trails up her jawline before meeting with hers. Her breath quickens and he swears he can hear her heart beating. Her heart beats for him.

He opens his lips to say something. Anything, but nothing comes out. Their lips collide in a quick peck. His wet locks drag against her forehead and causes her to giggle. It’s a sound that he loves to hear. He could pick out her giggle in a crowd of a million.

“I thought you weren’t going to fuck me?”

“Shut up.”

“Why would I go for Oliver when I have the prettiest girl here with me?”

His hands travel down her body, hooking into her little shorts and pulling them off and the thong. He makes a mental note to keep them for himself. He could never get enough of her.

The lips meet for another kiss. He licks into her mouth and can taste the fresh fruit that she had earlier. The taste of his last cigarette coats her tongue. Her leg wraps around his waist and he grinds against her.

He breaks away from their kiss, his hand grips her thigh and presses it against her chest. She’s already slick and ready from their previous activities. He groans at the thought of her full of his cum again. He couldn’t decide if he liked seeing her swallowing it or seeing it dripping out of her better.

Her brow is furrowed and her arms wrap loosely around Felix’s broad shoulder. He nips at her collarbone. She lazily scratches his scalp and it send shivers down his spine.

He’s rutting against her at a faster pace now. His cock presses against her sensitive clit with each thrust. The tip of his cock presses against her entrance. He brings his hand up to her neck and his hand linger there lightly squeezing. He forces her to look at him. She’s laying beneath him, completely dependent on, and her eyes flutter from the pleasure of it all.

“I love you.”

He sinks into her fluttering hole and her eyes widen with the realization of his words and with how full she felt again. She hadn’t realized how empty she felt when Felix wasn’t fucking her. She felt empty when Felix wasn’t with her now that she thinks about her.

Her mouth open and shuts and her bottom lip quivers.

“I love you, Fe’.”

He gives her a lazy smile and presses his forehead against hers. She’s so full of him. His cock is so big and is stretching her out to the max and she can’t escape from Felix Catton. She’s all his.

Felix starts up at a fast pace. The desperation behind his thrust pushes her up the bed. He eyes her full breast as they bounce with the movement of his hips.

She realizes at that moment that they were always connected. They were always meant to be one.

She kisses him desperately, messily, and she’s lost in him. She feels like she’s flying and drowning at the same time. His hipbone nudges her clit and she feels like she could cry.

Her back is arched, both legs are wrapped around his waist, and her fingers are scratching at his shoulders.

His hands move down to cup her thighs again. He squeezes them like his life depends on it and she knows that it’ll be bruises coloring them later. Just like he’ll have the marks of her fingernails on his shoulder.

He pulls her closer and their eyes meet. His cheeks are red and his eyes are dark. His releases one of her thighs to push his fingers into her mouth to get them wet.

His hand slides down between their naked bodies and swipes at her clit. With a yelp of his name, she cums all over his cock, and jumpstarts his own orgasm.

His hips stutter before he forces himself even deeper and coats her wall with his cum. He holds himself there until he’s sure he’s all spent before collapsing on top of her. He rubs his face in her cleavage as they both lay there. She rubs the back of his neck and twitches with the aftershocks that rock her body.

“I really do love you, Felix.”

He kisses her nipple and looks up at her through his eyelashes.

“I love you too, princess.”

The two fall asleep in the post-orgasm fog not noticing the company that they had that was watching them through the door.

#felix catton #saltburn #felix catton x reader #oliver quick #jacob elordi

32 notes · View notes

marvuders · 2 days

Text

"No swearing, Mooney!" — Wolfstar

warnings: heavy food mentions word count: 3,187 characters/era: sirius black, remus lupin, baby!harry potter, mention of other marauders. au where james & lily lived. summary: Remus is tasked with cooking breakfast for himself, his boyfriend, Sirius and their friend's baby Harry. It doesn't go quite well at first, but everything works out in the end.

Remus quickly glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t help but stop and take in the moment. His boyfriend, Sirius, was jumping around their lounge room with the largest smile on his face, his hair bouncing around with him, his baby hairs starting to stick to his forehead that was quickly becoming sweaty. Their friend’s toddler, Harry, was just as excited as Sirius was. He couldn’t call it jumping, but Harry was bouncing with Sirius’ movements, laughing as they went.

It was such a sweet moment, he wished that he had his camera nearby. Muggle cameras couldn’t do justice to this moment. It was small moments like these that made Remus fall in love with Sirius all over again.

The coldness in his hand quickly reminded him what he was actually meant to be doing, Remus caught the short end of the stick this morning and was meant to be cooking breakfast for all three. He placed the milk down on the counter, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the messy counter in front of him and the recipe he didn’t quite understand. Remus never really understood the appeal of cooking, he couldn’t do it, he didn’t enjoy it and he certainly didn’t enjoy the clean up afterwards either. His mother always said that he’d have to find a partner who could cook, or to learn how to quickly. Well, jokes on her, because he did find someone who is actually good at cooking. Which made him wonder why Sirius wasn’t cooking and playing with the baby instead.

But hearing the endless laughter of Sirius and Harry made his forthcoming battle with food a bit easier to handle. He brought the recipe to the front of the counter, skimming over the words that presented themselves as jargon.

“Okay… so that much milk,” Remus whispered to himself, “I need containers right? Right.” He flung open the cupboard door, picking one of the measuring jugs and a small bowl from the thousand of plastic containers. He measured the milk, it wasn’t exact but that’s for only him to know, then added it to his ‘mixing bowl.’ Sirius said he needed that.

“Crack two eggs into a separate bowl,” He continued reading, his eyebrows furrowing with each line. Remus got another bowl out and the eggs. Well, turns out he is worse at cracking eggs than he is cooking in general. First attempt, he hit the egg against the bowl too hard and it shattered everywhere. Second attempt saw half the shell go into the bowl. Third attempt was quite alike the first. This when he started to get frustrated.

“Bloody shit!” Remus said, upon the forth egg falling out of his hands and breaking before he could even get it near the bowl. He took a breath and stood there, with the shattered egg in front of him on the floor.

“Okay, what the actual fu-”

“HEY!”

Remus turned to find Sirius standing in the lounge room, with his hands dramatically sitting on his hips. His long black hair sitting in front of his face, certain parts sticking up from where no doubt Harry had messed it up. The toddler was sitting on the couch, thumb in mouth, excitedly looking between himself and Sirius.

“Don’t you dare swear in front of the baby!” Sirius dramatically exclaimed, tilting his head slightly as he huffed and puffed, the corner of his mouth fighting off a smile. “Lily will kill me if we give Harry back swearing and cursing, Lupin!”

Remus lifted his hands up to his chest, displaying his open palm to Sirius, proclaiming his ‘innocence.’ Sirius slowly started to smile and let out a chuckle, lowering his hands from his hips as he lowered himself next to Harry. Remus found himself smiling, feeling a bit calmer than he was a minute ago.

“No swearing, Moony,” Sirius pointed his finger in Remus’ direction. “Sorry mum,” He replied, quickly flashing a wink at his boyfriend, who had already gone back to play with Harry. The short bust of silence did not last long.

Remus grabbed a few paper towels from the roll, bending down to wipe the shattered egg off the floor, then the ones on the counter. He didn’t figure there was a point in trying to save any, they could always buy more. So all failed attempts went into the bin. After some quick cleaning, he grabbed a few more eggs out of the fridge. Remus was just about to pick up the first one, to crack against the bowl when two arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt Sirius pressed up against him, resting his chin on Remus’ shoulder. He could sense that he was smiling, no doubt already thinking of an insult about his egg-cracking skills. Sirius and James had made immense fun of Remus in the past about how he couldn’t cook.

“You’re putting too much pressure on them,” Sirius softly said. He proceeded to wrap his hands around Remus’, guiding them as they softly cracked the egg against the bowl, and further cracked it open to let the insides fall into the bowl. Sirius had to lean around Remus to peer into the bowl, he wasn’t quite tall enough to see over his shoulder. Of course, this time there wasn’t any shell within the bowl. Remus smiled, as Sirius quickly grabbed the other egg and cracked it into the bowl, another perfect crack.

“You can’t live without me, babe,” Sirius cockily said, as he withdrew his arms, smacking Remus on the arse as he laughed and walked back to Harry. Remus shook his head and smiled, he knew the cocky remark was coming, sooner or later.

With two eggs perfectly cracked, he looked back to the recipe, moving through the steps and attempting to clean as he went. Sirius taught him it was best to clean whilst you cook, although he never understood exactly why. He had the stovetop on, the grease in pan and bread in the egg-milk mixture. So far so good. Remus moved two pieces of bread into the pan, and luckily they didn’t stick.

A few minutes later, and it was time to flip the bread. Remus caught himself holding his breath, everything had gone good so far— other than the eggs of course, but flipping was the crucial part. Remus chucked the utensil down on the counter with a heavy thud, taking a heavy breath. Both pieces of bread were burnt. He chucked the temperature down a notch, running his hands through his hair. Remus felt rather frustrated and annoyed. Any other baby-less day, he would’ve been thinking out loud and swears would take up most of his dialogue. And he probably would’ve tried to bribe James or Sirius to step in and do it for him. Everyone knew Remus and cooking didn’t exactly mix. But himself and Sirius had been trusted to babysit, and a part of that was supplying a meal, and not cursing. He took another deep breath and continued to wait and cook the bread. Wait and flip, wait and flip, try not to curse, wait and flip.

“Okay, I’m fucking done! Why is it so fucking hard?” Remus yelled, chucking the burnt bread into the bin and turning off the stovetop. “It’s just fucking bread? Fucking bastards of things.”

He continued to chuck things all over the kitchen, the utensil just made it into the sink, the bowls got shoved to the side, making loud noises as they went. It wasn’t long before everything was even more of a mess than it was before, and Remus just stood there in the kitchen, his chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. He lifted his hands up, burying his face in them.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered, slowly walking over to the kitchen with Harry lifted and sitting on his hip. “Moony, hey, babe?”

Remus lowered his hands, turning to face Sirius. He went to go speak, opening his mouth slightly, but soon closed it when no words came to fruition.

“It’s okay, we all know you can’t cook,” Sirius’ tone was light and caring but with a hint of humour. “But,” he paused, hiking Harry further up his body, “you gotta stop cursing in front of the baby.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus started to laugh which Harry quickly copied and joined in. All three boys were laughing in their disaster of a kitchen, bits of eggs, milk and burnt bread all over the place. Remus made eye-contact with Sirius, smiling softly as he mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ Sirius quickly responded, shaking his head and walking forward a few steps to gently kiss him on the cheek.

Remus took Harry out of Sirius’ arms, wrapping one arm around his legs and bottom, whilst his other hand supported his upper back and shoulders. Harry’s hair resembled James’ hair- dark, wavy and full of volume. His bright green eye’s paralleling Lily’s, having the same level of innocence and mischievous intent behind them. Harry reached for Remus’ face, playing and prodding with his cheeks, pushing around the skin and making Remus look like an utter idiot— but it made Harry laugh.

“Pete’s gonna get us drive through and bring it over,” Sirius said, walking back into the kitchen, “to save you trying to cook again, Moony.”

“Thank you Pads,” Remus replied, removing his upper hand from Harry’s back and chucked a few utensils in the kitchen sink. Sirius started to do the same, not exactly cleaning but just general tidying. It’ll make it easier for when they did eventually get around to cleaning.

Remus didn’t quite know how Sirius could make such a trivial task comforting and relaxing. He slowly rocked Harry, whilst wiping the benches with his spare hand. Sirius cleaned up the leftover food and rinsed out the bowls whilst making small, banter comments under his breath about Remus’ lack of cooking skills, and cleaning skills. It had calmed all the previous tension he was holding from his outburst with the toast.

“I’m just saying, Moony, my mother’s hair would turn instantly grey if she even looked at the mess you left our kitchen in!” Sirius exclaimed, dramatically putting his arms out for further flair.

“Lower your voice, Black,” Remus softly said, tilting his head towards Harry, who was now almost asleep, his head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck, his little hand grasped onto a section of his top. Neither of them couldn’t help but smile. “The baby’s trying to sleep.”

“Least it isn’t swearing,”

“I hate you, sometimes,”

“If only I knew how bad a cook you were before I said yes.”

Remus squinted at his boyfriend, if there wasn’t a baby in his arms, he probably would’ve tackled him. Sirius stood there, a grin plastered on his face, his hair messy and in need of a haircut, his graphic tee had no sleeves, showing off his arms quite well. Remus had briefly forgotten about their banter, taking a minute to admire Sirius’ stature, his toned arms and how he always managed to pull off ripped skinny jeans.

“Hey!” Sirius whispered with force, “I just insulted you, idiot, don’t have anything to say?”

“You’ll make up for that later, Pads.”

“Pete’s out the front,” Sirius said, with his phone in hand. “Be back in a minute.”

Remus carefully peered down at Harry, moving incredibly slowly in an attempt to not awaken him. He was fast asleep, with a small pool of drool forming onto his top. Grabbing his blanket off the top of the couch, he slowly wrapped it around Harry before placing him in his make-do bed just beside the couch. Harry settled in nicely, his face moving ever so slightly reacting to whatever that little head was dreaming about. Sirius was back rather quickly, with food in hand.

They both sat down on the couch, their bodies leaning up against each other. Sirius reached into the takeout bags, pulling out the pancakes and fries that Pete got from them. Remus quickly went for the bag chips, or the best chips, in his opinion.

“I do love you, you know,” Sirius said, with his mouth half-full, “I love you and your crappy cooking skills.”

Remus lifted his arm, wrapping it around Sirius’ shoulder, pulling him in closer towards his own body. “I love you too, I couldn’t eat without you.” He laughed, reaching for some more fries.

It was a comfortable silence within their apartment. The two of them sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and physical affection, whilst Harry slept in his make-do bed beside them. The smell of fresh takeout filling their senses. It was moments like these that Remus knew he made the right decision a few years ago. When he had the choice to keep his feelings to himself or take the gamble and potentially ruin his friendship. He was incredibly grateful that he took the risk; otherwise, he wouldn’t have one of his best friends beside him, stuffing his face with chips, with his body pressed against his own. And he certainly couldn’t call that best friend his boyfriend either.

Remus squeezed Sirius into a side-on hug, resting his head against Sirius’ hair. He couldn’t help but smile whilst they both continued to eat their not-so home-cooked breakfast. It was this that he had longed and yearned for, a sweet life that he never thought he could have, let alone deserve it.

“I really fucking love you, Sirius,” he whispered, taking another bite of food. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sirius turned to eye-ball Remus, smiling slightly. “I really trucking love you too, Moony,” he paused, “but how many times do I have to tell you, no swearing in front of the baby!”

“He’s asleep, idiot,”

“Still! We’d never be allowed to babysit again.”

They both started to laugh, Remus moved forward, brushing their noses together. He closed his eyes as he started to close the distance between the two of them, Remus could feel Sirius smiling as he pressed his lips against his loves. Sirius kissed back as he tilted his head up, falling perfectly together. It was soft and light, Remus' chest felt light but full of emotion at the same time. His face seemed to form a smile without putting any thought into it. He couldn’t imagine any other place that he felt more happier or safer, with his lips against Sirius’, their limbs against one another.

Sirius pulled back first, giving Remus that warm smile, the type that included his eyes, where these little lines in the outer corner of each eye would appear, and his eyebrows would lift slightly. It was when Sirius was the most beautiful.

There was a specific thought that rushed through Remus’ head. He had to actively try to stop it from coming up and out of his mouth. He couldn’t ask it yet, no, not yet. Could he?

Sirius had turned back to the remainder of the food, it gave Remus a minute to think. He’d been wanting to for months, he had pondered different moments, different ways to ask it. He had even second questioned whether they were at that point in their relationship, whether he would actually say yes. Remus knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Sirius, he was convinced that Sirius was the love of his life.

Remus found himself lifting his body off the couch, his legs threatening to drop out from underneath him as he walked towards their shared bedroom. He’d brought a set of rings a few months ago now, it was an impulsive buy. Remus dug them out of the hiding spot, opening the boxes and looking over them.

His chest pounded, he felt like he was dreaming- nothing seemed real, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was making the right decision. He quickly shoved the boxes in his pyjama pockets and walked back out to the lounge room.

“Sirius?” His voice shook as he spoke, he stopped a few feet in front of his unsuspecting lover. He could feel his hands getting clammy, his mouth felt dry, his heart pounded more than he had ever felt it do so before.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius licked his fingers of sauce, looking up at him. Here goes nothing.

Remus slowly lowered down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket as he did. “Sirius Black,” he paused, opening up the box, revealing the ring and pointing it in Sirius’ direction, “I love you more than I can even begin to describe.”

“Rem-”

“Wait,” He interrupted, “I want to finish first; I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I can’t live without you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Remus took a breath, he continued, “Padfoot, will you marry me?”

It felt as if the next ten seconds lasted forever, just staring at Sirius, awaiting an answer. He watched as Sirius moved the food off his lap to where he sat a minute ago, and his hand started to shake out of his control as Sirius lowered himself to the floor, level with himself.

“Yes,” He whispered, his hands clasped Remus’ shaking ones. There were a few tears forming in both of their eyes, Sirius didn’t seem to mind and just let them fall down his slightly blushed cheeks. “I’ll marry you.”

A relieved chuckle escaped Remus’ mouth, he took a heavy breath. His mind kept replaying ‘yes’ over and over again. It didn’t quite seem real. They were both crying on their lounge room floor, grasping one another. Sirius leaned forward, moving one of his hands to the side of Remus’ face, running his thumb back and forth along his cheek.

“I love you too, Moony,” Sirius cried, “so, so much.”

“Sirius Lupin has a nice ring to it,” His voice was barely audible, but he could see Sirius smile.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sirius sniffled as he pulled the ring out of the box, offering it to Remus and held his hand out. Remus chucked the box aside, slipping the gold ring onto Sirius’ finger, it matched his skin tone immensely. “It’s beautiful, Moony.”

The silence was full and warm, there weren't any words that came to either of their minds. It was truly the perfect moment.

Remus gripped onto Sirius, not wanting to let him out his arms, and he moved them both against the side of the couch. Sirius quickly settled in his lap, resting his head against his upper chest, there wasn’t a doubt that he could hear how fast and loud his heart was beating. Remus shut his eyes and lifted his hand to play with his now-fiance’s hair. Smooth as silk, like normal with a slight scent of pine. It was another one of Remus’ favourite things about his partner.

“You’re stuck with me forever now, you realise that right, Lupin?”

“Well, you’re stuck with my cooking, babe.”

27 notes · View notes

penkura · 2 days

Text

last forever [3/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: At time of posting, this is the most recent chapter I have finished. Chapter four will be worked on and hopefully posted tomorrow (4/29), then I will update every Monday, hopefully.

Your stress is through the roof, watching Zoro fight against Dracule Mihawk. You're wringing your hands hearing Luffy tell Johnny and Yosaku not to interfere, and it makes you want to jump over and help. You knew this was his plan as soon as name left Johnny's mouth before you all arrived at Baratie, you hadn't gotten the chance to tell him he should wait, and seeing his swords break, the large attack from Mihawk that left him bloodied and Luffy screaming his name now makes you wish you could go back and do that.

"Sis, we need your sewing skills!!"

Johnny and Yosaku brought Zoro onto a small ship manned by Usopp, one you'd probably be taking to go after Nami and bring her and the Merry back.

You're about to jump in and go to them, before remembering the one thing keeping you from doing so.

Damn it, I can't swim!

"You have to bring him over here! You guys know I can't swim!"

"We can't get close enough," Usopp yells and looks between you and Zoro, "He's bleeding really bad!"

Biting your lip, you barely notice Luffy wrapping his arms around you three times before he says your name.

"You're gonna fly!!"

"Wait wha–"

Luffy lifts you up and stretches his arms all the way over, making sure you've touched down on the boat before he lets go, arms snapping back as he tells you to help Zoro. You start getting your supplies ready, your heart pounding in your ears and you barely notice Zoro awake, lifting up Wado Ichimonji and making a promise to Luffy with heavy breaths and tears you've never seen before.

Actually, you've never seen Zoro cry before this day.

"Until I become…the world's greatest swordsman, I swear…I'll never lose again! Got that, King of the Pirates?!"

Hearing Luffy's agreement makes you smile as you stare at Zoro, quickly remembering you have to start stitching him up or he'll bleed to death in this tiny boat. Usopp starts you all in the direction Nami took the Going Merry, while Johnny and Yosaku watch you with tear filled eyes as you stitch up the gash from Mihawk down Zoro's chest, he's nearly fast asleep by the time you finish and cut the thread.

A very quiet word of thanks leaves his mouth before he's asleep, you simply respond telling him not to mention it, rinsing your hands in the sea water. Johnny gives you praise for being able to stitch up such a large wound, Usopp saying you were one of the best he'd ever seen for a makeshift doctor. You hear them, but don't respond, watching Zoro sleep instead. Despite his loss to Mihawk he looks as if he's resting peacefully, and that makes you happy to think about for the time being.

You're quiet as you place a hand on his face, stroking his cheek slightly while telling the others that he'll be alright, before removing your hand from his face.

You'd love to tell him how amazed you are and that you have feelings for him, but now's not the time. Maybe another day, when you aren't chasing down your friend who's stolen your ship and is going off to who knows where, and maybe when Zoro isn't unconscious from nearly bleeding out after taking on a fight he couldn't win (but oh how badly you wanted him to win it).

Right now, you have to focus on Nami.

+!+

How you all have now liberated three towns from Pirates or the threat of Pirates, you aren't sure. Your crew isn't anything like the Pirates your parents had tried to teach you to fear as a child. Luffy was far too kind and really only wanted to be King of the Pirates, but helping Nami came first.

Freeing her home from Arlong and his Fishman Pirates was the main priority of the day, and you were glad to lend a hand. Nami had become your best friend in no time, you had to help her. Even when you were told (ordered really) to stay back by Zoro, you made sure you were ready to help if needed.

And you tried. Tried to pull Zoro away after he'd beaten Hachi and was on the verge of collapse from a fever and his wounds from Mihawk, but he tried to shove you away and tell you he was fine despite the dizzied look he had. Arlong ripping his stitches out caused you to try again, trying to help him, but you were stopped by Johnny and Yosaku pulling you back, telling you not to bother because you'd just die.

Even seeing Luffy swap places with Zoro terrified you that he was going to be even more badly injured, but you were still held back by your old friends through the end of Luffy's fight against Arlong, finally freeing Nami and her hometown.

Your biggest concern afterwards was Zoro, but when you saw him later that day with a drink in hand you knew he was fine. Most of your time at the party was spent with Nami and her sister Nojiko, listening to Usopp tell his stories to the kids, and sharing Sanji's food with Luffy. Every now and then you'd look for and find Zoro, a few times smiling brightly at him when you caught his eye, which made him look away from you immediately.

Sanji, still brand new to the crew, noticed the looks you and Zoro shared that night. You were strange, your relationship with him, whatever it was, was strange to him.

Even stranger, he notices you leave Nami and Nojiko at one point, hurrying over to Zoro and latching onto his arm, making him lean in to hear whatever you had to say. He rolls his eyes while you smile, but doesn't shake you off, letting you move his arm around your shoulders while he has another drink.

You're weird, both of you. The rest of the crew isn't phased at all by the two of you being so buddy-buddy, but Sanji wonders what you two have going on. Are you together? How long have you known each other? Surely you only met when you each joined Luffy, right?

When Zoro leaves you to go look for Luffy, food, or another drink, whatever it is, you seem content to be left alone, until Sanji sees your shoulders drop and you look almost like you're going to cry. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, he's not sure.

But if Zoro said or did something to upset you, Sanji was going to make sure the swordsman paid for it.

+!+

The majority of your crew doesn't know of your struggles with nightmares. Normally they take the form of your parents, the man they were going to force you to marry, and being trapped in a loveless life in your home village where most treated their children like property to be sold. Your only solace there being your older brother who was protective over you. Being the one to help you run away, making you swear to never come back and to take his sword to protect yourself after he'd spent the last few years teaching you how to use it.

You were good at keeping those demons to yourself, to not worry anyone. The nightmares had been less lately anyway, you felt safe with everyone around. The six of you on your way to Loguetown, you and Nami snatching up the office area as your room, both turning in late in the night after long talks about numerous things.

Your bad dreams, however, took a new form that night. This time, the dream takes you back to Baratie, back to Zoro's fight against Mihawk, and instead of him waking long enough for his promise to Luffy, you're sitting beside him while he bleeds from the wound and you're unable to move. You can't bring yourself to start stitching him up, and before anything else happens, you've woken up.

While it wasn't as bad as the dreams about your parents, it was enough to shock you awake and into a seated position on your bed. Nami is still fast asleep in her own bed, apparently not having noticed or heard your heavy breathing from the nightmare. You don't know why your nightmares took this turn, you'd much rather deal with seeing your parents in your dreams than seeing your closest friend and ally dying in front of you, even though he was just down the hall and alive.

It's several minutes of tossing and turning before you decide to get up and sneak off to the boys' bunks, turning back to your habit you'd been determined to stop as more crewmates joined, but you can't help it.

The past nightmares have been enough to make you slip into bed with Zoro before, he never fought you over it and let you stay, let you continue when it was just the two of you, but with more friends you worried they'd all get the wrong idea.

And maybe they will, but if Zoro doesn't mind and it helps you sleep, they shouldn't complain or tease you. Hopefully.

Usopp and Luffy are both spread out on the floor, making you have to tiptoe around them to get to Zoro's hammock, not even registering that Sanji's is empty.

You're quiet while you slip in and under the blanket, wrapping your arms around Zoro and making yourself comfortable. You figured he was asleep when you walked in, but his hand moves to grab one of your own, thumb stroking the back of your hand while he waits to hear if you say anything.

You don't, Zoro doesn't mind, he knows you won't tell him the contents of your nightmares anymore, not after the first one. If you're unable to sleep, he's glad to let you join him and keep you safe. He promised he would do so, helping keep your demons away so you could rest.

Unfortunately, your peaceful sleep is interrupted early in the morning by Sanji shouting at Zoro to get off you, like he'd done something wrong when you were the one to climb into his hammock.

"What do you think you're doing to [Y/N]-chan, you moss head?! Get your hands off her!"

A pillow lands on your face, likely aimed for Zoro, but it misses him due to the fact his face is buried in your shoulder while one arm is around you. Normally your face would be red at this, but with Sanji still nearly screeching for Zoro to "unhand" you, all you can think about is crawling in a hole and dying.

Zoro gets fed up and eventually lets you go, taking the pillow that disturbed you both and throwing it back at Sanji with twice the force.

"Shut up already!! You're going to wake the whole damn East blue!"

"I will as soon as you stop violating sweet [Y/N]!"

Yeah you really want to just up and die right now.

"Who's violating her?!"

"You are, you savage!"

"How do I violate my own wife when she's the one that crawled into my bed?!"

Everything goes quiet, you don't want to know what look is on Sanji's face at the moment, but you're grateful for Nami coming in and telling everyone to shut up, even though she's a moment too late. Luffy and Usopp were awake and just watching the scene unfold, until Zoro's statement which makes Usopp's eyes go wide and Luffy laughs. He just knew you two wouldn't be able to keep this secret.

You're so embarrassed that you pull the blanket up over your now definitely bright red face, wishing Zoro and Sanji didn't feel the need to egg each other on and instigate all these petty fights.

When you finally decide to look and see what's going on, Luffy's still laughing, Nami is confused, Zoro's still got a glare set on Sanji, while your chef and Usopp are both looking at the two of you wide eyed, disbelief on their faces before there's one outburst from Sanji.

"Your WHAT?!"

+!+

It feels like an interrogation. You're in the kitchen still in your pajamas with Usopp and Sanji both questioning you and Zoro about your little marriage, Nami and Luffy enjoying breakfast to your side.

Zoro's completely unbothered by the whole thing, answering Sanji's questions with an annoyed look, while you answer Usopp's inquiries with your face still red from the way everyone was woken up that morning.

Eventually, they come to realize you two are only married to prevent the arranged one your parents set up, making Sanji sigh in relief and Usopp is slightly concerned but seems to understand.

“So, one more time,” you just can’t look at Usopp while he relays your situation once again, “You and Zoro got married to prevent you being forced into an arranged marriage, but you’re going to annul?”

You nod, taking glances at Zoro, who continues to glare at Sanji for waking you both too early. All of this was too much first thing in the morning, and you both had decided to keep this little marriage a secret from any new recruits, wanting only Luffy and Nami to know because you’d both slipped up with calling each other husband and wife without thinking about it in front of them.

"And you're just waiting for your parents to say something?"

You nod again at Sanji's question. "It's weird, I know but…I just can't go back there. My older brother told me never to go back, or I'd definitely be forced into that marriage."

"Your parents suck." Luffy nodded, still eating his breakfast when you look over at him with a smile. "But we'll keep you safe! We'll fight anyone that tries to take you from us!"

"No one's forcing you back home," Zoro doesn't look at you, instead moving to leave and start his training for the day despite not having breakfast yet, "I'll make sure of that."

There's something in the way he says it, as you thank everyone, that makes Sanji lean back in his seat and watch Zoro leave. Even with you both stating you were not in love and were going to annul the marriage as soon as you heard from your parents, Sanji swears there's something weird about the way Zoro treats you.

It might just be friendship, but it feels like something more that neither of you are saying. You absolutely could be hiding real feelings for each other, he knows that, the way you two speak to each other and work together seems to say so, but until either of you say anything, Sanji isn't willing to believe this is anything more than a sham marriage.

There's something else, he's noticed in his short time with you all, in the way you look at Zoro, the way you speak to him as well. Zoro's a tough guy, but you speak so gently and kindly to him, it's almost like you really are his wife and want to stay that way. Maybe it's just your dynamic since you two have known each other much longer than the other Straw Hats, but Sanji isn't convinced. You and Usopp break him out of his train of thought by asking for breakfast, which he proceeds to provide you both with a grin, deciding he'll have to ask you another time if you have feelings for the moss head swordsman. If your heart's already taken, he'll gladly leave you be, despite his rivalry with Zoro.

#zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever

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nishirikixo · 4 hours

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Twisted Love Ch. 1

pairings: yandere!jay x reader

chapter warnings: supernatural elements (?). fear, swearing, drugging, a bit of non con, please let me know if i missed anything!

Sorry for taking so long to post this! I hope everyone enjoys this, I love feedback so please feel free to let me know what you think! This is my first series as well so I will do my best to make it a good read :) This is not proof read btw so I apologize for any spelling mistakes or other errors!! 🥲

It was nearly 1am and you were still in the office finishing up your work. All of your coworkers left around 10pm and the only sound filling the office now has been the click clacks of your keyboard. You haven't taken a break once today, not to eat, get a drink of water, nothing. There was some commotion earlier over a handsome new hire but you didn't have the time to worry about it. The only thing on your mind was finishing this project.

You had been assigned as a group leader for the first time since you started working here. If everything went well you could end up being promoted, so you were determined to not mess anything up.

You had been feeling hungry for a few hours now so you decided that a break would be okay if it was very short. When you got up from your chair you only then noticed how eerie the office looked when it was dark and empty like this. You pushed that thought aside and went to grab your unopened lunch from earlier. It was just some instant ramen and a bottle of soda.

You quickly made the instant ramen and sat back down at your desk to eat. Of course. you didn't want to waste too much time, so you worked a bit while you ate. Suddenly, a strange sound rung out through the large building. It sounded as if it came from afar, maybe not even the same floor you were on. Goosebumps rose on your skin and you suddenly felt extremely uneasy.

You quickly slurped the last of your ramen tossing it away, opting to finish your work tomorrow when people are still present in the office with you.

You made your way down the long narrow hallway to get to the elevator. The already dim lights flickered off and on, between flickers you could see what seemed to be a figure at the end of the hallway. After another moment, the lights settled and you realized there was someone else here with you.

You were completely struck by fear and your body froze up. The figure made its way towards you slowly. You wanted to run but you couldn't get yourself to move. The more he came in to view the more your anxiety heightened, his face was unfamiliar to you but you wondered how he could've gotten in if he didn't work here as well.

It was only a moment more before he stood directly in front of you. He seemed to tower over you, your eyes were leveled with his chest. The strange man reached his hand out to you. "Hello, I'm Jay. Nice to meet you."

What the hell?

You then looked up at him to see quite a good looking man. His facial features were chiseled and his hair was blonde and looked soft and silky. His eyes bore into you in a way that had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.

"Are you just going to stare at me? Or are you going to introduce yourself as well." He gestured to his hand that was still awaiting your handshake.

You hesitantly took his hand in yours to shake it. His grip became uncomfortably tight but you gulped down the anxiety that started to rise. "I'm... Y/n. Um it's late, I should probably head home now." You forced a smile, pulling your hand from his and rushing down the hall, not giving him another chance to speak.

He turned to watch you. His eyes never left you through your entire walk down the hallway until you entered the elevator. The lights flickered again as he stood in the hallway, a sinister smirk painted across his face.

It won't be long now, my love.

You rushed home as fast as possible, triple checking the locks on your doors and windows. You don't know what this extremely uneasy feeling was, but you wanted to avoid that man at all costs.

You tried not to think about him and chose to change and get into bed. His face kept appearing every time you closed your eyes. You'd even been startled awake so many times by phantom sounds of his voice calling your name.

You got up to grab a cold bottle of water. You weren't sure if it was paranoia but you heard a cracking sound coming from your room where you'd just left. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen, holding the water bottle under your arm and slowly approached your room.

You took a deep breath before slowly opening the door. You looked everywhere and there was no one to be found. You were relieved but you felt embarrased for hearing those mysterious sounds all night and ruining your sleep over them. You also weren't able to finish your project and that bothered you even more.

You laid down, attempting to sleep once more. Of course having the same outcome and not being able to get enough rest.

Before you knew it your alarm was ringing and it was time to get up and get ready for work. You rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and haphazardly applying your makeup. You could see dark circles under your eyes but you were too tired to care and the throbbing headache you had was an additional factor to your lack of energy. You quickly got changed and rushed out of the house to get to work.

When you arrived at work you heard more commotion of that new hire. You couldn't have cared less until you caught sight of him. You could see everyone crowding near the desk he was working at. He payed them no mind, just focussing on getting tasks done. Thats when it hit you, it all suddenly made sense. Jay was the handsome man everyone was talking about. That's how he got in last night.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at him as well until he looked up and his eyes met yours. You snapped out of your trance and hurriedly got situated at your desk. After a couple moments he was behind you, spinning your chair to have you face him. You jumped in your seat with a gasp, grabbing onto the arms of the chair. "Jay- What are you-" "I'm joining your group for the project, our supervisor told me to let you know." You looked around seeing the shared whispers between your co workers. You never liked attention, it made you anxious. "You could've told me that without scaring the shit out of me." You rolled your eyes turning your chair back around, but he stopped you. "Is.. there something else." He nodded. You stared at him, shifting uncomfortably and waiting for him to speak. His eyes traced over you, leaving you with the same feeling from the night before.

He leaned closer to you, causing you to back up and leaving you pressed into the desk. His face was inches away from yours and your heart was pounding in your chest. His eyes scanned your face and he softly chuckled, "Stay late after work today, Y/n."

You couldn't formulate a reply, not that he would've waited for one anyways. He left you stuck to your desk and returned to his work without another word. You took a deep breath and gathered yourself, turning back around. You sat idle at your desk for a while.

"Y/n, what was that all about?" One of your coworkers sat at the desk next to yours with a judgemental look on her face. "What? Oh, you mean Jay. Nothing, he was just letting me know he's going to be part of my group for the project." She sighed, "Ah that makes so much sense!" She turned away to her group of friends. They all whispered loudly enough for you to hear. "Of course it was just because of work," one of the girls scoffed. "obviously he wasn't interested in her, shes not that attractive." You rolled your eyes, ignoring their remarks.

You glanced up to see Jay looking over at you. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his gaze but at one point you'd had enough. You made your way over to the restroom just to have a few minutes without being watched. What's his deal?

You carried on with your day, zoning out everything around you. Once it hit 10pm, everyone began packing up their things and leaving.

"Y/n." You looked up to see Jay hovering over your desk. "Ah, Jay.. you'd asked me to stay late after, right? " He nodded, taking the seat next to you. He pulled your chair in front of his, you sucked in a breath making eye contact with him now. "Is... is this about work..?" He chuckled, placing his hand on your knee. "Of course, I'm just curious about the project." He rubbed your thigh, causing your body to go stiff beneath his touch. "Jay- I-" You quickly grabbed his hand, forcing it to stop. "I have to go." You stood up grabbing your bag and heading for the elevator. He followed shortly after you, his steps matched your pace. He walked slower when you slowed down and he walked faster when you sped up. Once you were inside the elevator you rapidly pressed the button waiting for the door to close. Unfortunately you weren't quick enough, right before it closed he swung his bag through the small gap causing the doors to re-open.

You gasped and harshly pushed your back against the wall of the elevator. He slammed his hands on either side of your head. The dark look in his eye made shivers run down your spine. "You know, it was quite rude how you left just now." You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes welled up with tears formed by fear. You weren't able to speak, he didn't seem to mind your lack of reply though.

You felt uncomfortable by the close proximity between the two of you. The ride in the elevator felt like an eternity to both you and him, for different reasons though of course. Neither of you were able to take your eyes off each other. For you, it was fear. For him, it was lust.

The elevator finally came to its stop, the door opening. "I'II let you go now. Baby. But we'll talk about this later." He left a soft kiss on your forehead before exiting the elevator. You were left with a single tear rolling down your face.

You eventually made it home, but of course you were pretty shaken up. You felt so dirty. The second you put your things down you got into the shower. The steaming hot water was all you needed right now. You took a nice long shower and prepared to sleep.

You sat on your bed checking your missed messages when a loud thump was heard. It sounded like it came from your balcony. You got up and peeked through the blinds but there wasn't anything there, so you sat back down. But it happened again. And again. And again. This time you went outside, you looked below, to the sides, and above. But there was nothing. What the hell is going on?

You leaned against the railing, looking out at the street. It seemed to be peaceful, the road wasn't too busy, and the sky was full of stars. It would have been a perfect night

You took a deep breath getting ready to go inside when a hand suddenly clasped over your mouth. You kicked and screamed into the hand. The person's other hand held tightly onto your waist to prevent your thrashing. Their hand was removed from your mouth for less than a second before a cloth was pressed back against it. You tried prying it off but their grip was too strong and so eventually, you lost conciousness.

You woke up on the floor of an empty room with white walls. It was dark but not to the point where you couldn't see. You sat up holding your head in your hands, you felt groggy and had a painful headache.

You looked around the room but there were no windows and no way out other than a single door that you assumed would be locked.

As if on queue you heard the locks being opened and someone came through the door. The lights flipped on and your breath hitched in your throat. "Jay...

"Hello, Y/n." His saccharine smile made you feel sick. "Why did you bring me here." He knelt down in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Isn't it obvious, I wanted to see you." You pushed his hand away, "Well I don't want to see you." He cooed at you, lifting his hand back up to caress your cheek. "One day you won't feel that way anymore." You pushed him away again but this time he wasn't having it. He pinned you against the cold floor, holding you by your waist. You pushed at his shoulders but he wouldn't budge. His eyes studied every inch of you. Oh how he loved to see you vulnerable like this beneath him. You felt his lips on your neck and immediately you were kicking and punching. He had no trouble holding you down, he liked it more when you put up a fight.

He only stopped when he heard your soft frustrated sniffles. "Shhh Baby, It's not that bad. You'll get used to me." You shook your head, holding back a sob. Jay got up leaving you on the ground. He left the room momentarily, but came back within seconds. He got down and pulled you in for a hug, inhaling your scent. You were too tired to fight him this time, he could tell, so he placed a short peck on your lips while he could. After that you felt a small poke in your neck and you were out like a light.

You woke up to your usual alarm. You shot up looking around, feeling distraught. You were in your bed in your room. But you could've sworn you were with Jay? You had been very stressed with anxious thoughts after the incident in the elevator so could it have been a dream?

It just felt so real.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #yandere enhypen #enhypen imagines #jay park x reader #jay x reader #yandere jay #enhypen jay #enhypen jay x reader

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f1shart · 3 months

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omg happy new year ^^ haha *disappears for an entire month without a word*

i'm sorryy i know i should've said something but i really needed a social media break... like if you look at my previous posts you can see me slowly get more depressed ☠️ but i'm getting therapy! and i caught the flu! that's pretty much all that's new sooo STRANGETOWN

it's not asher f1shart without a bonus... just some guys i drew while i was out NOT tagging everyone i'll die fr

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luv4fushi · 3 months

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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.

he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.

it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.

“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”

“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.

arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.

you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.

“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”

“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”

it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”

satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”

“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.

the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.

“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.

“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.

“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.

“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”

satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”

“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”

silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.

“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”

you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”

“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”

you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.

“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”

satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.

“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”

“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”

“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”

“it’s a game!”

you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.

“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”

“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”

“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.

“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.

satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”

“love you, dummy.”

“love you too, baby.”

“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.

“yes, chef!”

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader

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eightmakesonebraincell · 6 months

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ateez as royals who fall for you (hyung line)

read maknae line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 12.8k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: this has simultaneously been the pride and joy of my life and the bane of my entire existence for the last 2.5 months 🥴 and tumblr is an inept incapable CLOWN who cannot handle the full 24k worth of bullet points so here is the hyung line first - maknae line coming soon (yumi @sorryimananti-romantic can vouch for my unsuccessful 3-hour attempt at formatting them into a single post)

hongjoong

pov: you're the king's royal courtesan

“fuck,” hongjoong lets out a deep growl from within his chest as his head dips down to rest against the crook of your neck. “you’re just as tight as last time”

when your hips involuntarily buck from the pleasure, he nudges your thighs further apart and keeps your wrists pinned above your head

he can’t help but let out another groan when he feels your walls clench around his cock as you adjust to his thickness

“i thought- god,” a moan escapes you after he thrusts his hips against you, “thought you never fucked the same woman twice”

“i don’t,” he simply says

and it’s true

hongjoong is one of the youngest princes to have ruled during the kim dynasty, having risen to power after the previous king succumbed early to an unknown illness

he has the choice and selection of all the courtesans available within the palace and outside its walls

hongjoong also has a reputation of being highly sought after by everybody, not just amongst courtesans

it’s not only because he is devilishly handsome, knows how to properly fuck somebody dumb, and is the literal king

the main thing that makes him so desirable and unreachable?

he never sees the same courtesan more than once

“yet here you are,” you hook your legs around hongjoong’s waist to gain leverage and meet his thrusts with your own hips, “between my legs for the second time”

you smirk when he curses and throws his head back

his grip on your wrists tightens and his voice drops dangerously low

“the first time doesn’t count because i was meant to see lady chae. so really, this is the first time i’m requesting for your services”

he silences you from retorting by pressing a bruising kiss against you, lips messily attaching to yours before trailing down the sharp angle of your jaw to bite your neck

you are a courtesan for people of nobility and royal status

part of the ‘house of flowers’ and commonly referred to as ‘flower courtesans’, you and the other women are highly-sought after for the companionship you offer

you are well protected by the house of flowers though - the services of companionship that you provide is requested by your client, but is ultimately accepted or rejected by you

lady chae, another of the flower courtesans and one of your closest friends, is requested by the king for her services

it is quite clear what it is going to entail and you both spend several of the following nights giggling and whispering scandalously to one another

whether the rumours about his stamina will be true

whether lady chae will be the first to break his one-fuck rule

except when the day of the meeting comes around, she spikes a sudden fever

lady shin, the head of the house of flowers, takes all but one look at her before ordering her to bed rest despite both of your attempts to, albeit unconvincingly, persuade lady shin that chae’s fever would only serve to help make the king’s dick warmer

lady shin is not amused to say the least

with the last minute hitch, the king agrees for you to be sent out to him as a replacement instead

and you end up being the flower courtesan who he breaks his reputed rule for

(lady chae is initially jealous, understandably)

(but very quickly, she appears to be even more excited than you are as she combs through your undergarments for the “sluttiest set” that she can find)

your attention is brought back as hongjoong flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, continuing to drag his length in and out of you while your back arches off the bed

you tease in between short breaths, “are you really bringing up another woman’s name while you have your cock inside me?”

“you brought it up first,” he reminds you, accentuating his answer with timed thrusts

you grind your hips against his, chasing more friction against your clit as you feel your high approaching

“why?” he snakes one of his hands down between your connected torsos to rub messy circles against your clit, smirking as he asks, “are you getting jealous already?”

for that, you clench down hard on his cock, immediately feeling the way it throbs inside of you as you bring him closer to his orgasm too

“as if. fuck off”

your words are hardly audible from the whines that are leaving your mouth due to the added pressure of another finger against your clit from your retaliation

“i’m close,” hongjoong releases his grip on your wrists so that he can straighten his body, anchoring his hand on your hip instead so that he can fuck you and rub your clit with his other hand with renewed vigour

when you hear him groan, “cum for me,” the string snaps and your whole body quivers in his hold as your orgasm washes over you

hongjoong’s hips gradually stutter to a pause, an occasional thrust inside your clenching pussy as he milks out the rest of his cum inside of you

he finally eases himself out of you and hums in satisfaction as he watches his cum slowly leak out of you

hongjoong drops down beside you, toned chest covered in a sheen layer of sweat as it rises up and down with his pants

when your fuzzy mind has cleared a little from the blissful haze of your orgasm, he strokes his fingertips along the side of your thigh, along the curve of your ass, and over the dip of your waist just under your breasts as he says, “you better not be jealous. first one to get jealous loses”

“if anyone’s going to get jealous first, it’s you,” you scoff back

he raises an eyebrow

oh yeah?

he shoves his leaking cum back inside of you and fingers you to another orgasm

now that shuts you up

for a man who barks, he sure has no bite, because you find yourself being notified by lady shin several days later of yet another request for your services under the king’s name

and another request turns into another

and every single time, hongjoong makes sure that the only word leaving your lips for those many hours is his moaned name

but at the same time, the more you and hongjoong meet, the more he just savours in your simple companionship

he asks you to teach him how to embroider because you’ve mentioned before it’s how you like to spend your free evenings

he rifles through your bag of materials that you bring

you smack his hand away at the carelessness with which he’s upturning everything

“what’s this?” he holds up a large, wooden hoop before trying to fit it through his head, “a necklace?”

“i wonder if people know they appointed an idiot to be king,” you say as you gently unscrew the hoops and demonstrate how to align a piece of fabric between the rings

he watches with interest as you screw the outer hoop tighter until the fabric is nice and taut and then repeat the process so you both have one to work with

you have to help hongjoong thread his needle too, because apparently the king’s fingers are only good for scissoring you open

you weave your own needle through the fabric at a slow pace whilst telling him the different names and uses of the stitches you’re showing him

except, when you look up to see if he’s following?

his own hoop has been abandoned to one side and he’s leaning against his hand as he gazes cheekily at you

“were you even paying attention?”

he sounds a little too confident when he answers not at all

in return, hongjoong shows you how to write hanja the next time you meet

he positions himself behind you with his hand over yours as he guides you through different characters stroke by stroke

he claims that there are specific ways of applying pressure to the brush so he has to be holding your hand at all times

you most definitely roll your eyes several times but you indulge him anyway

there are a lot of giggles and teasing pushes when you accidentally dip the end of your sleeve into the ink and you try to spread it onto his robes too

(the calligraphy may or may not become forgotten when hongjoong pins you down to stop your cheeky behaviour, because things naturally escalate whenever he has you under him)

you two do eventually manage to finish one decent-looking scroll of characters which he ends up gifting you so that you ‘don’t forget’ about him when you’re not with him

when you walk back into the house of flowers, the hanging scroll perks lady shin’s interest as you walk past

“hongjoong taught me how to write my name today”

lady shin waggles her eyebrows at you suggestively because of how casually you refer to the king, for which you nudge her with a shoulder

she laughs then asks to have a look

you unravel the paper to show her but then she makes a funny noise

“that’s not your name? these are the characters for- oh,” she cackles scandalously to herself, as if she has made a secret discovery

“what does it mean?” you hurry to clarify

you wouldn’t put it past him to have taught you a crude phrase instead, like ‘best tits’ or ‘biggest ass’

lady shin lets out an amused exhale, handing the scroll back to you

“it says, my flower”

you’re looking at those exact characters from where you lay on your bed when a knock sounds on your door several days later

lady shin steps into your room with a warm smile as you greet her

“you have an appointment with lord min tomorrow, but the king has just inquired about your service availability for tomorrow,” she informs you. “would you like me to give him the usual answer?”

this isn’t the first time a clash has occurred, particularly with the increasing frequency with which hongjoong requests to see you

you have always told lady shin to ask for hongjoong’s pardon and to offer him an alternative time or day, because in the end, you still need to maintain a professional and admirable reputation as a flower courtesan

and as you open your mouth to tell her ‘yes’, your eye catches the scroll hanging on your wall

my flower

you hesitate

“actually,” you look away from the hanja, “i’ll see hongjoong.”

lady shin gives you a motherly smile as she nods in understanding and closes the door behind her

the next day you see him, he excitedly points out the large tambour frame in his room that he bought just a few days prior, claiming you two can work on a big embroidery patch together now

you give him one look then demote him back to the small embroidery hoop because he still hasn’t learnt his basic stitches yet

(that’ll teach him to not pay attention when you’re demonstrating, ha)

you relent and end up going through the different stitches with him again anyway

and you find that he’s actually not that bad with embroidery once he’s actually focused on the task at hand

it’s nice, basking in each other's presence while he threads his little square of fabric and you work with the large frame you have now essentially claimed as yours

not that hongjoong minds; he did buy it solely to make you happy

and then you offhandedly mention that someone had gifted you a handkerchief with your initials embroidered on one of the corners the other day

“i actually have it on me, in fact,” and you take it out from where it’s tucked into your waist so that you can show him

he juts out his chin as he peers down at the delicate letters, huffing, “it’s pretty, i guess”

then as an afterthought he tacks on, “bet i could do a better job”

“are you jealous right now, kim hongjoong?”

said man is hellbent on avoiding your eyes as he picks up his needle and thread again

“no i’m not!”

“whatever you say,” you smirk

after that day though, you don’t receive another request from hongjoong to meet until two weeks later

which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much

but in comparison to the frequency at which you are used to seeing him, the frequency at which your body is used to having him, it is much too long

you are almost beginning to wonder whether you shouldn’t have brought up the handkerchief gift

yet, he greets you with his usual teasing squeeze of your waist, dangerously close to your ass

you make a move to follow him through the doors to his chambers but he turns around to produce a silk cloth

he starts to blindfold you, whispering sultrily, “i have a surprise for you”

you feel the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his tone

guiding you inside, hongjoong gently pushes you down so that you sink into the plush duvet of his bed

“do you trust me?” he whispers

trying not to dwell on the urge to lick your dry lips, you answer, “of course”

you feel him tugging slowly on the string that holds the front of your corset together, loosening your dress with tenderness like you are a fragile gift

you shiver when your shoulders are suddenly exposed to the cold air

and then the sensation is followed by the warmth of hongjoong’s soft exhales along the expanse of your collarbones as he leans closer to fully disrobe your shoulders

you have to remind yourself to keep breathing

“you can look now,” he tells you

you remove the silk cloth from around your eyes, unsure of what to expect

it takes a few blinks to readjust your vision to the room around you but then your eyes finally focus

and you gasp

there, hung on the wall with its striking viridian green, shimmering threads and intricate swirls on glorious display, is quite possibly the most stunning dress you have ever laid eyes upon

“try it on,” he encourages

but as you step closer, you realise the lacing across the front of the corset and running down the sleeves of the top dress is in fact, not lacing

it’s patchy

it’s uneven

it has empty areas

but it is no doubt embroidery

“did you…did you make this?” you reach out a hand to lightly caress one of the embroidered flowers, not quite daring to believe that hongjoong would go to these lengths for you

“of course,” he wraps his arms around you from behind and presses a light kiss against your temple, “i’m not losing to a lousy handkerchief”

“is that why you disappeared for two weeks?”

you let out a laugh, sinking into his embrace, because the image of the great king holed up in his chambers for days on end, hunched over your dress with a needle, thread and frown on his face is just too endearing

he lets out a warning huff as he turns you around in his embrace to face him

upturning his hands, he shows you the tips of his fingers and grumbles, “i poked myself so many times for you and you laugh at me?”

you bring his hands closer to your face, pressing light kisses to his fingertips as you smile, “thank you, joong. i love it so much, i really do”

he looks at you impossibly soft

under his tender gaze, something suddenly rushes to your very core

you hold one his hands steady in front of your lips then swirl your tongue out in an experimental lick over his fingers

it’s almost captivating how quickly his pupils dilate and zero in on your tongue

so you dare to bring his fingers into your mouth

you suck on them a little harder

a little deeper

and then you moan around his fingers, “i want you”

he lets out a groan himself, feeling the front of his breeches tighten as his cock twitches

“i- fuck, i didn’t give the dress to you in hopes that it would lead to this,” yet despite his words he is stepping you backwards so that he can pin you against the wall

“i know, but i want you,” you palm his growing bulge, your knees going weak at how hard he already is. “and i need you. now.”

he doesn’t need further encouragement

he shoves the remainder of your clothes aside before inserting his fingers roughly between your folds

it doesn’t take long for him to bring you to your first orgasm, curling his fingers relentlessly as you ride them

he spreads your cum over your pussy and you buck your hips with a whine when he circles over your clit briefly

then he’s turning you around and bending you over, one of your hands bracing against the wall, your other arm held behind your back by hongjoong’s firm grasp

“fuck, you’re so wet,” his whole body shivers with pleasure as his cock slips right into you

the obscene sounds of his hips slapping against your ass and your slick being pushed back into your hole over and over again fill the room

and to the clenching of your pussy from another orgasm, hongjoong also cums into you with a guttural groan of your name

he gently carries you to his bed and lays you on top of the covers

he leaves your side for a moment and you listen to him rummage through something while you try to regain control of your quaking legs

when he comes back, you feel him gently spreading your legs and then the ticklish sensation of a soft cloth along your inner thighs

a whine escapes your lips when he rubs over your sensitive clit and hongjoong grips your thigh a little tighter

“be careful what pretty sounds you’re making if you can’t handle another round”

it isn’t until he finishes cleaning you up and lies down next to you to start wiping himself down that you look over and realise what it is that he’s been using this whole time

your mouth drops in disbelief

when hongjoong notices your expression, he smirks, “the man who gave you this has no idea his handkerchief is being used to clean my cum off your thighs”

“hongjoong!” you flush with a laugh. “you are definitely jealous, aren’t you?”

“yes, i’m fucking jealous,” he growls, “you’re the only one i want. you’re the only woman i’ve been requesting for since i’ve seen you. and i want to be the only one who gets to have you, too”

you confess, “well, you can have all of me. because i’ve started refusing other people just for you”

he looks at you for another moment before he’s suddenly straddling your hips

“change of plans,” he says breathily, “i need you again”

“very good plan,” you grind up against him

and then you pause, mirth starting to bubble in your throat, “one last thing though”

hongjoong looks down with amusement in his own eyes, wondering what could possibly be so funny

“that handkerchief?” you start, struggling not to laugh when his eyes immediately narrow, “i never said it was from a man. it was a gift from lady chae”

seonghwa

pov: you're his royal guard

as soon as you notice the movement out of the corner of your eye, your body reacts straight away

you murmur seonghwa’s name with a tight voice and move to position yourself in front of him, unwilling to risk the prince’s safety

one of your hands grasps the hilt of your sword, ready to unsheathe it at the first sign of danger, as your calculative gaze darts between the two young men stumbling closer on the dirt path and the line of forest trees from which they appear

they are wearing simple tunics and breeches with their colour faded and seams loosening from wear

from what you can discern, they are simply commoners, but that does not rule out the possibility that they are bandits

seonghwa seems to think otherwise, though

unsurprising but still grating

the prince places his hand on your shoulder gently in a silent reassurance and request for you to step aside

albeit reluctantly, you force yourself to move to his left

it becomes clear to you as the two figures stop just shy of a few feet away that the term ‘men’ was pushing it - their faces are young and they appear to be no older than seventeen or eighteen

the young strangers dip their head in greeting, one of them apologising as well as he pulls out a tattered map that he extends out for you two to see

“my companion and i are traveling to the village norshaw but seem to have lost our way. would you be able to point us in the right direction?” the one with the map asks

“of course,” seonghwa offers with a kind smile

you watch as the three of them step closer together to look more closely at the map

on high alert, and just as you are predicting, you see the companion shuffle closer to seonghwa, hand inching towards the leather pouch that hangs from the prince’s belt

you catch the subtle motion of seonghwa’s eyes flickering down just an inch

because of how well you understand his body language, you know that it means he has already noticed the thieving intention

but because of how well you understand seonghwa, you know that he isn’t going to do anything about it either

so you strike in his stead

your hand darts out to snatch the thieve’s wrist, twisting his forearm upwards so that he is forced to lean awkwardly towards one side to prevent his elbow from snapping

his partner drops the map, letting out a string of curses and hesitating for all but three seconds before he turns around to flee

scoffing, you threaten the one who is still in your hold, who then bolts with his tail between his legs after you release him

"did you really need to scare them off like that? it's not like i had any money in the pouch anyway," seonghwa chastises with a chuckle

"yes," you deadpan. "i did not spend the last two hours of our trip pausing every fifty meters to wait for you to pick up a rock because you thought it looked pretty, only for them to be stolen by a pair of petty thieves"

"it would have been funny to imagine their faces after realising what they stole," seonghwa grins

“mhm,” you hum, “and the next thing you know, you’ll wake up to your palace ransacked, because word in town is that you can steal from the prince and get away with it”

he levels you with a boyish scowl, “you’re so dramatic. what are you, my mother?”

“no, but i am your royal bodyguard”

“exactly. you are my bodyguard, not my brainguard. if i am to be swindled of my pretty rocks, then so be it”

you roll your eyes out of exasperation, but everything is swiftly forgotten minutes later when you point out a heart-shaped rock and seonghwa rushes over to pick it up

it has been like this ever since the incident occurred - him, the sunshine; you, the sunshine protector

it has been almost four years since it happened

somebody had attempted arsenic poisoning of not only seonghwa, but also those working under him

you had noticed strange discolouring of the silverware in the kitchen and on the table serving his dinner, which prompted an investigation and subsequent discovery of the perpetrator

an act of betrayal and treachery by one of his closest relatives - his very own uncle

seonghwa was - still is - too merciful and tender-hearted to punish his uncle, even if the severity of his uncle’s crimes warranted execution

to have his trust broken so shatteringly hurt seonghwa more than if he were to actually have been poisoned

you still remember like it was yesterday; the sight of the prince slumped against the wall, weighed down by chains of turmoil and despair as whispers fly through the palace of the weak-hearted prince who is unable to deliver fair judgement

it is the sight of the prince looking so small and lost that drives your feet forward to stand before him

as the soft draught coming through the windows tugs gently on your tresses and the flickers of candlelight illuminate the glint of steel in your hand, you make a decision

“i’ll be your sword,” you pledge

not just as his royal guard, but as his haven when he is forced to face corruption and wickedness

and when you see the way his shoulders immediately sag with relief at your declaration, the way he nods like a child who has been reassured that everything will be okay, you tell yourself that seonghwa will never have to dirty his hands as long as you are with him

you will be the dark to his light; the yin to his yang

quietly, you see to it that his uncle is executed for his crimes - your statement to the rest of the palace that prince seonghwa is not to be mocked

neither of you bring it up again, but seonghwa knows

he pulls you into a wholehearted hug, arms enveloping you securely as his chest shakes with shuddering breaths of thank you over and over again

you rub your hand up and down his sturdy back soothingly

it is an action that simultaneously reciprocates his embrace and his crossed line of professionalism

one that starts the shift in dynamic between you both, boundaries of sought comfort blurring with friendship and then something more

where seonghwa is too trusting and too soft-spoken, you become his skepticism and his voice

“you should be more wary of others,” you always remind him

“and you should be more trusty of others,” he’ll retort

yet, he will never make a decision that does not receive your input nor one that you do not agree with

where seonghwa is too gentle and too humble, you become his sword and his shield

you do not waver when you strike down foe, and friends turned foe alike

you speak up and establish firm boundaries when others take advantage of the respect he shows everybody regardless of their class or status

and yet, if you find yourself on the receiving end of someone’s condescension or discriminatory treatment, be it due to your rank as a guard or identity as a woman, seonghwa will be advancing forward to defend you before you can do so yourself

where seonghwa is too innocent and too bushy-tailed, you become his eyes and his caution

your morning walks together always last for longer than they are scheduled for

he stops to watch every butterfly and bumblebee that flutters along the flowery path, and he waits for caterpillars to crawl onto a leaf that he holds by the stem so that he can move the critters off the pathway

you love to watch him and his glittering eyes, his cheeks rosy from happiness and from the air still crisp with morning dew

but you also make sure to watch his surroundings with greater vigilance because the quiet peace that the freshly awoken sun brings simultaneously increases the likelihood of a targeted attack against him

as much as you rib him for being a marshmallow personified, however, and as much as he banters back that you are more than welcome to resign at any time, neither of you want it any other way

seonghwa carries out a lot of gestures that he justifies to himself as being eternally grateful for you and the things you do for him

he likes to gift you flowers he has plucked from his garden or the bushes he walks past that remind him of you

(“that’s actually just a very pretty-looking weed, but thank you, seonghwa,” you tell him on more than one occasion)

(it’s adorable, because the next time he finds a flower, he goes to the length of certifying that it is indeed a flower with the merchant who sells bouquets in the nearby town before presenting it to you, eyes gleaming with pride)

you stand still and let him tuck a flower behind your ear, sometimes braiding your hair gently so that he can weave and secure the stem into your hair, holding your breath as his features fill with the same enrapturement that he would admire a beautiful artwork with

after you voice this out one day, seonghwa supposes to himself that there is not much difference between an artwork and you

not that he’s attracted to you or anything - you just…have an objectively attractive face

yes.

especially when your usually-piercing expression is softened by fatigue, guard no longer up as you sleep slumped over a desk while accompanying him during his late night of studies

he does not realise his feet have moved until he is right beside your resting form, as if the soft exhales escaping from your slightly parted lips are a siren’s song

seonghwa tenderly brushes your stray locks away from your face and behind your neck

except he forgets to account for the fact that you are trained to sleep on the brink of consciousness

the squeal that leaves his mouth when your reflexes kick in and you almost slit his throat resounds at a frequency so high you almost believe it comes from your own mouth

you have a grand time watching his beet red face stutter out an excuse as to what exactly he was doing so close to you

needless to say, that is the last time seonghwa ever tries to do anything while you are sleeping

but as much as he bumbles around, he also reveals his perceptiveness when you least expect it

like now, as you accompany the prince to one of his meetings with numerous advisors and ministers

it is relatively dull and uneventful, mostly a cordial appearance to maintain amicable and loyal relationships with his subjects

conversation is limited to pleasantries and at one point, seonghwa even points out the calligraphy paintings hung at the back of the room

everyone nods with throaty laughs as if the paintings are indeed the most exquisite and tasteful artworks they have ever laid their eyes upon

when you and seonghwa arrive back at his chambers following the conclusion of the meeting, he walks over to his bed and shakes the sleeves of his robe over the expanse of his duvet

and out drops a neatly-wrapped sweet, followed by another, then another, until there are enough to amount to two handfuls

baffled, you look at seonghwa, because these are the very same treats that had been plated on the tables during the meeting

“you smuggled candy out of the room?” you try to keep the amusement out of your voice

he peers into his sleeves to ensure there are no more stragglers, before turning to face you as he waves his hands over the small collection of goods on his bed

as if they are-

“for you!” he exclaims almost proudly. “i saw you eyeing them during the meeting so i took some for you”

okay

most definitely proudly

you feel something tickling you from within, as if he has reached through your chest to directly caress your heart with a delicate finger

“when did you even…” your voice trails off when it comes out a little fonder than you are expecting it to

“remember the paintings i pointed out?” seonghwa giggles, and you think that the hand in your chest is now cradling your heart completely. “i swiped the sweets when everyone was looking back at them”

“thank you, hwa,” you settle on saying, because you do not trust yourself to say anything else

that is more than enough for him, though

which, of course it is - this is seonghwa, with his huge heart that fills easily with the smallest of things

he eagerly hands you one of the treats and you unwrap it to place into your mouth

you’ve had these before, but this one that he has specially grabbed for you tastes remarkably sweeter

you wonder if his lips will taste the same…

but then you accidentally bite your tongue, hard enough to draw blood, and you realise just how wrong you are for letting those fleeting thoughts into your mind

because while you navigate the world in thick droplets of red and sharp glints of silver, seonghwa sees the world in soft hues of pastel and gleaming rays of yellow

how could the two palettes ever blend together harmoniously?

so instead, you grant yourself one last moment of selfishness and pull him into a hug, a gesture that toes the already shaky borders of professionalism yet can still be excused under the guise of friendship

you realise that he has always meant much more to you, but that is what this will stay as - a mere realisation

seonghwa wraps his arms around your form as he relaxes into the way your bodies naturally meld together

it’s strange how easily you slot into his life, his thoughts, his heart

he wonders whether it’s possible for feelings of appreciation to run so deeply and potently within somebody, like a drug that he cannot get enough of

and when you take a step away from him, leaving his chest feeling physically and emotionally empty, he wonders if he is perhaps…

in love with you

following that incident, it is almost as if a switch flips - both of you take several steps away from the line that has been danced around

but neither of you notice the distance because you are both consumed by your own thoughts

until one of your usual morning walks around the castle walls of his palace

seonghwa is wondering whether the bushes you walk past remind you of the flowers he used to gift you and you are debating whether to reach out to brush a petal out of his half ponytail

then, like deja vu, your eyes flicker towards the burst of movement as a figure covered in black comes darting forwards with their blade raised intended for murder

you immediately start to unsheathe your sword, feet poised and prepared to defend-

until you are harshly tugged back and the prince steps in front of you to parry the strike that the assassin tries to land

it takes your lifetime of training and experience to snap back into focus and thrust your sword into the enemy’s exposed side

when you are sure he is dead, you whirl around to descend upon seonghwa with a voice trembling from both anger and relief

“what in the world were you thinking?” you yell

“i-”

taking a step forward, you toss your sword to one side, “no, actually. you weren’t thinking at all”

“i was afraid that you would get hurt!” he takes his own step closer

“that is my duty!” the volume of your voice raises even more. “i am willing to lay down my life to ensure your safety! i have been guarding you for years now and you have never acted this way. what has changed?”

for a moment, the only sound that punctuates the silence is your harsh breathing

seonghwa swallows

“my feelings…” he whispers, a stark contrast to the peak of emotions you have been riding. “my feelings for you have changed”

your throat tightens at his words

it is your turn to whisper, a noise of confusion leaving your lips

he takes another step closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of you as he looks down earnestly into your eyes

“i’d rather be the protector, and you be the protected”

“but…why?” your heart races with anticipation

“because i’m in love with you”

right at the invisible border that has been separating you two for as long as you have been his guard, seonghwa now stands, hands wringing together as he awaits a response

“then that makes the two of us,” you confess

you step forward to take your familiar spot on the other side of the line, except this time you do not stop

you stride over the boundary completely to stand by his side

raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you pull him down slightly by the front of his doublet so that you can press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips

it stretches wider and curves upwards under the nurturing of your own smile

you can’t help but give him another kiss on the other side of his mouth to match the one you just gave him

“from now on,” seonghwa starts, “i’ll be your sword”

you wouldn’t really, and you will fight him to let you continue being his guard, but that doesn’t stop one last teasing question from escaping you

“does this mean i get to retire?”

yunho

pov: you're part of a rebel group

the crown prince is not in his fucking library

for the past three weeks, the crown prince has always been in the royal library at night

until today

under normal circumstances, his royal guards and staff would be alerted to ensure that the deviance in routine is a conscious decision and not an issue of the crown prince missing

except doing that would make your job significantly harder…

considering you have been ordered to assassinate him.

you’re part of the ‘red sun’, a revolutionary movement aiming to overthrow the current monarch

following the debilitating state of the king after falling ill and the subsequent coronation of queen jeong into power, she has since then established numerous royal decrees to keep everyone under her reign on a tight leash

a leash made of barbed wire

people are quick to become resentful and thirsty for an end to the dictatorship and bloodline

although he has made limited public appearances, the crown prince has also developed a reputation rivaling the queen’s

within the second year of the jeong dynasty, red sun has already amassed a multitude of supporters

the focus is currently on growing in numbers, preparing for an imminent revolution and picking off corrupt royals and noblists, be it through incrimination or assassination

dealing with those in positions of higher power is a task only completed by an elite selection of red sun rebels who have distinguished skills and traits that set them apart from peasants and commoners

and you are amongst the elite team

which is why you find yourself staking out on the tiled roof of the imperial palace, clothed in black with a mask and hooded cowl covering your face that blends you in with the darkness of night, on the orders of a higher-up to assassinate the crown prince

except the target is missing; the information you were given is wrong

which never happens

you can’t risk staying around for much longer, especially now that the crown prince has broken his routine

he could be anywhere and so could his royal guards

you shift your body to a crouch and place your hands on the cool tiles beneath you, ready to leave

only to spot a figure, crouched just like you are, on the opposite side of the roof

their face is a black hole of nothing within the shrouded confines of their hood, but you can feel their gaze piercing into you all the same

you run

you scramble to the edge of the roof and nimbly leap off the curved eaves to the neighbouring structure of the study room

when you glance backwards, you see the man - physique now obvious - is keeping up easily along the stepping stones of roofs

this game of cat and mouse isn’t going to work for long

if you don’t get caught by him first, you’re both going to get caught by the palace guards

so you make a split decision and alter your next trajectory lower

keeping your arms outstretched for the eaves, you grab on tightly when your fingers touch the edge of the roof and use your core to kick your legs up to stop your body from slamming into the wall from the momentum of your jump

you let go and drop to the ground like a feline, noiseless, and slink towards a line of trees

then you wait

he’s good, you note to yourself, when the only sound that alerts you to his presence is the quick scuffle of his feet as he softens his impact against the wall and the muted thud of his body landing on the ground

“state your purpose,” he demands, voice low yet firm

you ignore him to ask, “who are you?”

now up close, you can see that the man is wearing attire almost the same as you are, identity also hidden by the his bandana and hood-

wait

even the dark red stitching that subtly replaces the original seam on the right shoulder of his outer clothing is the same

the same as those on the elite team

“one of you,” he confirms your suspicions

except you don’t recognise his voice nor his build

being one of the earliest members of the rebel organisation, you are familiar with all the members who carry out missions like yours

he is not one of them; not one you can trust yet

when you don’t speak, he adds on, “we need to go. the safehouse might be in danger”

he refers to the two of you so easily, as if you and him are an unspoken team

you cannot trust this man until you know for sure he is part of red sun, so you ask him

“when is red most beautiful?”

it is a vague question with a fixed answer

one that reflects the heart of the revolutionary itself

during the sunrise of a new beginning

“during the sunrise of a new beginning,” the man says resolutely

the tension releases from your shoulders

“okay,” you opt to abandon your original mission. “let’s check on the safehouse”

the man offers you a hand to hike yourself up onto one of the outer walls of the palace before he jumps up himself with ease

you both flip over the top and land in unison

the moon illuminates the ground beneath your feet as you both sprint into the surrounding forest

the safehouse is really just a small hut situated far enough from the palace to stay inconspicuous, yet not close enough to the outer borders of the kingdom to risk discovery by the frequent border patrols

you both slow down as you approach the clearing, steadying your breaths and treading with cautious steps

and then you hear it

the shattering clang of a desperate parry

all it takes is a quick glance at the man by your side before your eyes harden with purpose and your steps are dashing in unison towards the hut

you’re both hit with the smell of a metallic tang in the air, and it’s not from your drawn swords

bursting through the door, you quickly take in the scene before you

several red sun members are scattered around the hut and slumped in varying degrees of injury

it’s easy to spot the intruder; they’re yanking their sword out of a body’s torso as they simultaneously turn to look at you

and it’s hard to miss the royal insignia of the jeong monarch on their chest plate

you have the element of surprise

but only for the next few seconds

you leap forward with the thud of footsteps of your partner following almost immediately, side-stepping once you close the distance to dodge a haphazard swing

there’s a brief break in defense when the enemy tries to aim for another strike that leaves the gap in the side of their armour exposed

you feel the slight resistance of your sword entering flesh as you thrust it forward into them

except when you try to tug it back out, a hand grasps your own and the hilt of your sword, stopping you from stepping away

the enemy has realised they are not going to make it out of this alive

but if they are to die, then they are going to take one last person with them

you.

you see glint of metal as they use their other hand to swing their sword down onto you, only for it to be deflected at the last second by another sword

the man you have met for barely an hour is now at your side with his towering protectiveness

in one smooth kick, his long leg sends the other careening into the wall of the hut with a mighty slam

you feel yourself jerking forward from the enemy’s grasp still on your hand

but the man next to you quickly tucks you into his side before you are also sent sprawling

“check on the others,” he briefly says, and then he is striding towards the fallen intruder

you only spare him another quick glance and then you rush to the nearest figure on the ground

you go around checking for pulses, and for those who are still breathing, the extent of their injuries

there are several casualties but nowhere near as many if you and the man had not come to check on the safehouse

which suddenly makes you pause in your tracks

how did he know about the attack in the first place?

you stretch your legs from their squatted position next to one of the red sun members and turn around to confront him

except…the man has disappeared

and so has the intruder’s body

days later, the question of whether you will chance upon the man again tonight flits through your mind when you find yourself perched in the very same spot on the tiled roof of the palace that gives you a clear view of the royal library

you have received another order to assassinate the crown prince as soon as you see the opportunity arise

this time, the note is accompanied by a cyanide capsule, a non-verbal message that this mission is to occur with your life on the line

you spot him

he’s preoccupied by the scroll in his hand as he makes his way through the shelves of parchments

you wait until he’s walked far enough into the library before you drop down from the roof, keeping your stance low to ensure you stay hidden as you silently move closer

you take out the jagged dagger from its sheath by your waist as you anticipate it will be too difficult to wield your long sword in the narrow aisles

and there the crown prince stands

he has his back to you, exposing him to your mercy

mercy that you have no intention of showing him

the cruel heir to the throne of an even crueler dictatorship deserves none

“it’s you again, isn’t it?”

you freeze

the crown prince still has not turned around to address you, but you can feel the dark gaze of his eyes on you as if he were looking at you

“you were here a few days ago”

fuck

how he knows you have no idea

what you do know though is that you have about two seconds to make a move before you lose this chance to assassinate him completely, and quite possibly, lose your life as well

the pill you have hidden in the breast of your tunic feels heavy

“you are part of red sun, are you not?”

this time the crown prince does turn around to face you, but it isn’t the nonchalance with which he reveals your identity that makes your head reel

it is the warmth and softness in his gaze and the hint of a smile on his face that does

what the actual fuck

you’re convinced that the crown prince is not only heinous, but also batshit crazy

“i am,” you spit out at him, “with orders to assassinate you, in fact”

his mouth thins into a tight line, “the orders you have received are false”

“sounds exactly like something a crown prince would say to avoid being assassinated,” you scoff

but then his next words change everything

“red is most beautiful during the sunrise of a new beginning”

before you have time to fathom the bomb that has just been dropped, your heads swivel simultaneously towards the entrance of the royal library when a voice calls out for the crown prince

“hide,” he hisses urgently

and then he’s stepping further away to conceal your presence as best as possible

you hear the shuffle of footsteps approaching before they stop, dangerously close to where you’re crouched behind a bookshelf

“apologies for interrupting your time, crown prince,” they say

from where you are you can see the crown prince’s expression clear as he lets out a small huff, “i have told you many times to just call me yunho”

“of course, crown prince yunho”

even though you can’t see the other person’s expression, you can hear the amusement in their voice

they continue, “i have the information you have requested for”

“thank you,” you see him - yunho - receive a small scroll. “the queen does not know?”

“no, i made sure to be as discreet as possible”

yunho thanks the other once again and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets when he bows his head in appreciation as he dismisses them

is this the same crown prince as the rumours?

and what is he doing behind his mother’s back?

you don’t realise you’ve been staring dumbly at him until he’s back in front of you with amusement on his face

he stands tall and proud, robes accentuating his stature and nobility

“who exactly are you,” you dare to ask

your voice is small - you feel small, crouched at his feet like a stark physical representation of the power he holds over you

but then he takes yet another step closer and kneels down so that your eyes meet at the same level

“i am the leader of red sun. the creator of the whole revolution”

your ankles actually do give out at that and you have to seat yourself on the floor

because how is any of this possible?

you must have voiced your thoughts out loud, because before you know it, yunho is crossing his legs and making himself comfortable on the floor right in front of you

it makes you feel so strange

the crown prince’s willingness to make himself an equal before you - and even to his staff from earlier

yunho starts to explain

a change in monarch, particularly one of such dictatorship, requires massive momentum and synergy; something he cannot produce alone nor without the support of the people

thus, red sun came into existence for the exact same reason you and all the other supporters have joined

in hopes of a sunrise one day that marks a new beginning

a new leadership

except recently he has had growing suspicious of the presence of a traitor within the organisation, which were confirmed the night the safehouse was attacked

“that night…that man was you,” you realise, “and that’s how you know who i am”

he nods, “and that’s also how i know your orders are false.” yunho nudges you playfully with his knee, “pretty sure i never ordered for my own assassination”

yunho continues to explain that he had taken the intruder back for interrogation, but then you frown when he reveals the enemy had swallowed a suicide pill before any information could be gained

he has an inkling that someone in a high position of power is involved, since the pills are almost impossible to gain access to, but it cannot be ruled out as a coincidence

“hang on,” you pull down the top of your tunic in a hurry

yunho scrambles to cover his eyes and turns his head as he jokingly sputters out, “woah okay, this is moving a little fast don’t you think?”

you tug impatiently on the sleeve of his robe, telling him to look

yunho hesitates for another second before lowering his hands and realising you have-

“a suicide pill?”

you look at each other, because this can only mean one thing

the pills are not a coincidence; the enemy is much closer than yunho would like

you’re both unsure how much time there is until the traitor decides to order someone else to assassinate yunho, or worse, decides to finish the job off themselves

but from that very night of discovery, you and yunho work together incessantly against a ticking time bomb

it’s a delicate balance between finding as many leads as you can and spreading out your investigations to stay under the radar

yunho tries to look further into the cyanide pills while you try to uncover any information regarding the order you had been given

whoever is behind it all has kept their tracks hidden well

there isn’t much to report from either of your ends whenever you sneak into the palace to meet up with yunho

but he makes it very hard for you to feel discouraged when he makes your meetings seem like casual catch ups between - you dare say - friends

you have yet to catch him by surprise whenever you drop down from the roof in front of him in an attempt to scare him; he has an uncanny ability to sense your presence

except, you think you prefer being unsuccessful, because your indignant grumbles never fail to bring out his toothy grin and an excited body jiggle

other times he is the one trying to fluster you

“remember that time you literally tried undressing yourself in front of me-”

“i was taking the pill out to show you!”

you bring your thumb and index finger closer together in front of your face and squint at the gap

“i am this close to changing my mind and assassinating you after all”

he gets a kick out of it, pretending to beg for your mercy, “oh please spare me, your majesty”

other times, yunho teases you for always keeping your cowl and mask on

“bet it’s because you’re ugly or something,” he jokes

and you bite back that he had his face covered too when you both met, so you’re one to talk, ugly

“but since then i’ve always shown you my face as the crown prince. you can see me nice and clear,” he suddenly leans forward, so close you can see the dip of his cupid’s brow. “what do you think about me now?”

you swallow hard

you’re glad you have your mask on because you can feel your face rapidly heating up

“i think…” you gently cup his jaw, “you look better with your mask on,” as you nudge his face to the side

you cannot help but join in with your own chuckles at his laughter and boyish glee

and eventually, you two have a breakthrough

yunho manages to trace the cyanide back to a traveling merchant operating under the guise of selling rare herbs and medicine

in the transaction ledger, there is an unusually large purchase under the name of ‘lee minjun’

“i’m sure i’ve seen the name before somewhere, but i can’t remember where,” yunho huffs

you let out your own huff at his elbow that has very naturally taken a rest on your shoulder

pulling out a stack of paper, you spread it out onto the table before you two

they are past records of certain red sun missions that, upon looking back, seem suspicious

“i noticed a mark on a couple of them, a drawing or character perhaps? except none of them are fully intact. it’s almost like the paper was accidentally marked”

you point them out to yunho in hopes that he will have a better idea

he doesn’t - not at first

not until he chances upon two that vaguely align with each other to form a clearer image

“this-” yunho runs his hand through his hair, “this is butler lee’s stamp. my father’s butler.”

the king’s butler?

lee?

your eyes snap to yunho’s, just as his meet yours

“lee minjun”

you sink back in your seat

there’s now definite proof that the king’s butler is at the very least involved

the question of why and what for remains

in fact, you and yunho would not put it past the queen either to be involved too

there is a long moment of shared silence as you both mull over what this means for the future

yunho breaks the silence first

“after this all ends…do you want to work for me, officially?” he clears his throat, “will you stay by my side?”

after this all ends

you two must still uncover butler lee’s motives; likely part of a much grander scheme involving queen jeong too

you two must still bring down the whole monarch; with the support of red sun, yunho needs to sit on his rightful throne

the sun has yet to rise but you can see the faint hues of orange and twilight blue in the horizon

the new beginning is close

and at that, something in you relaxes

crumbles and disintegrates with utter relief

“it would be my honour to stay by your side forever, yunho”

and then you are removing your hood and mask, daring to breathe and feel alive and hopeful for once

ironically, yunho chokes on air

you glance at him to find that he is unable to meet your eyes

you think your eyes are deceiving you because-

the tips of his ears are a glowing red

you could definitely get used to seeing the usually calm and collected crown prince become a shy, blushing mess

the corner of your mouth rises with smugness, “like what you see?”

“you should really keep your hood and mask on,” he mumbles

“and why is that?” you humour him

he finally looks at you

and when he sees the shit-eating grin plastered across your face, his shoulders suddenly fill out again with confidence and cockiness to match yours

“because,” his voice deep and flirtatious, “with a pretty face like that, you’re going to distract me from my duties”

yeosang

pov: you're in an arranged marriage with him

ever since you could understand the words coming out of your parents’ mouths, you have known that you will be married to yeosang

it just made sense

for the respective princess and prince of two powerful kingdoms to join together, leading to increased power and stronger allies

it is tradition for the pair to meet their chosen spouse for the first time only when both parties have turned sixteen, and even then, subsequent meetings are rare until the time of the actual wedding

so you spend the first sixteen years of your life infatuated with the idea of your prince charming - of prince yeosang - wondering what he looks like, what his personality is like, and how you two will fall in love

and when you finally reach that long-awaited first meeting, prince charming is everything and more than what you have envisioned

if angels with broken wings were exiled to earth, they would look like yeosang

he is soft-spoken and slightly reserved, as any awkward teenager meeting their future spouse would be, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes overflow with adoration and his shoulders shake with exuberant giggles whenever his little sister, yeoreum, comes tottering into the room

he always bends down onto one knee to match her eye level, uncaring of the stains that mark his pants even as his mother narrows her eyes in disdain, and he listens with utmost sincerity when yeoreum tells him about the secret pink and glittery fairy she spotted in the courtyard

they remind you of the relationship you share with your own little brother, juwon, who is barely half your age and height, yet has you wrapped around his little finger

you lean down closer with a hum at the soft tug on your dress to hear your little brother whisper conspiratorially into your ear, “he looks stupid”

if looks could kill, yeosang would be dead right now

you stifle a laugh as you flick juwon’s chin affectionately at his sudden display of childish jealousy

if anything, you’re pretty sure you are the one who looks stupid

stupidly in love

because walking away from that first meeting with yeosang and his family, you know that you are absolutely smitten for the prince

unable to quell the restlessness of having to wait until the next unforeseeable meeting, you pick up a quill that very same day you return to your palace and start writing

it takes you all night, the gentle gleams and winks of the stars keeping you company until they rotate shifts with the songs of the waking world

but by the time you have crossed out and scrunched your way through rolls and rolls of parchment paper, you are satisfied with the letter you have written

the letter addressed to prince yeosang, which you task eunju, one of your maids, with passing it to the royal couriers for delivery to the kang palace

it is a simple letter, thanking him for the enjoyable day, yet it holds the deeper message that you are interested in him and would like to become better acquainted before your marriage

you wonder whether his cheeks will flush a pretty red as his butler hands him your letter

whether he will trace his fingers delicately over the curve of your words

whether he will bite back a smile as he pictures you saying the words to him

two weeks pass, and you approximate the letter to have just been delivered to his kingdom

and although you desperately wish for him to immediately sit down with a quill in hand to pen out his reply, you wait and give him a week before you eagerly start counting down the days until the arrival of his letter

your whole life you have been able to wait patiently

you wonder what has changed now that mere weeks feel like an eternity

the day yeosang’s letter is due to arrive, you are sporadic bursts of giggles, twirls and skips throughout the palace

even juwon is starting to become sick of getting swept up into a crushing hug to the cheery tune of i loveee youuuu every single time you pass him

nothing can bring you down from cloud nine

only…the letter never comes

not the day after, not the week after, not the month after

you’re disappointed, of course, but you busy yourself with reasons why yeosang has not replied, and you don’t give up

you send him another letter, and then another, and another

sometimes you just tell him about your day - what made you smile, what made you sad, something interesting you saw, something your little brother said

other times you tell him about yourself - your hobbies, likes and dislikes, aspirations, fears

and you also wonder about him

you ask what he likes, what he smiles at, what makes him sad, what his dreams are

with each letter that you hand over to eunju to be delivered, it becomes harder and harder to stay optimistic - not even the words of encouragement from your favourite maid lifts your spirits

you continue like this for over a year, still yet to receive a reply

until-

you do.

it feels like you are brought back to that very night of your first meeting, feeling so very alive as hope and excitement cascade into your body the moment eunju hands you a letter with a smile

with shaking hands, you fumble to unpeel the wax seal and free the envelope’s contents - a single piece of paper, neatly folded

your mind races with anticipated words and explanations

perhaps he had been too shy to reciprocate your letters earlier

or perhaps your letters had been lost in transit

you unfold the parchment as the hairs on your skin raise in anticipation, only to find it blank save for one scrawled sentence in the middle of the paper-

stop sending me letters.

and just like that, the clock strikes twelve

your carriage reverts into a pumpkin

and your carefully curated story of prince charming disintegrates into ashes

you don’t write to him again.

years later, the stacks of parchment scrolls on the wooden desk of the guest room you are currently residing in feel like a fresh slap in the face each time your eyes land on them

they are a stark reminder of your very own letters, the cold rejection you received, and the irony of the only letter you ever received again following his being one from the kang monarchs, announcing the proceeding of the royal wedding between you and their son

now, only a few days newly-wed to yeosang, the king and queen are gracious enough to let you sleep in one of the guest rooms temporarily, under your claims of adjusting to a life in a new kingdom and as a wife

really, you are trying to avoid yeosang for as long as you can

you spend your time instead getting to know his little sister better, which is why you find yourself sitting side by side with yeoreum, legs dangling off the edge of your bed

she eyes the vase of flowers on your bedside table curiously, “did you buy that?”

“no,” you reach out to touch the baby’s breath, “someone delivered it to my room”

you had offhandedly mentioned to some of your staff the other day that flowers would make your room look more homey, and you had woken up the morning after to find the beautiful vase teeming with flowers next to you

“why?” you ask yeoreum when she hums thoughtfully

“it looks just like the vase in my brother’s room, but he’s weird about it. yeo never lets anyone touch it, much less have it”

you blanch a little, “in that case i’ll give it back to him later then”

“you don’t like it? or…you don’t like my brother? my brother talks about you a lot, you know,” she reveals

caught off-guard by her perceptiveness, you reveal that you have been hurt before

you don’t specify by what exactly or who it is that you’re talking about, but she seems to understand regardless

later that night, sweet yeoreum barges into yeosang’s room and with as much feistiness as she can muster, she glares at her brother and interrogates, “what did you do to make her upset?”

before he can so much as blink, yeoreum concludes, “you boys are dumb. go talk to her and fix it or something,” and then walks out with a huff

there’s no one there to witness it, but yeosang nods anyway

heart feeling a little heavy after your conversation with yeoreum, you head towards the kitchen to seek solace in the sweet pastry you are usually served each morning

the first time you tasted the danish pastry, decorated with strawberries and cream cheese, was when you had traveled to yeosang’s palace at the age of sixteen for your first meeting

you remember the blissful expression that had bloomed across your face with your initial bite, and no dessert ever captivated your tastebuds quite the same way ever again

if there is one good thing out of this arranged marriage with yeosang, then it would be the reunion between yourself and the strawberry danish

“your highness,” the head chef bows, followed by the rest of the staff in the kitchen, “how may we help you?”

when you ask for one of the pastries, the head chef apologises that there are none

“but we can make you one now, if you do not mind waiting”

you tell him not to go to the trouble and ease his worries, “i just thought there may have been leftover pastries”

“we make only one fresh every morning, specifically for you,” the chef explains, and confusion must settle across your features because he adds on, “his highness has expressed that you may like them”

oh?

flustered, you can only muster a short response of, “i do, thank you,” before you smile once more and excuse yourself

because of all people to notice and remember such a small detail, and then to go out of their way to put in the request with the kitchen on the off chance that it was still true, it was yeosang?

first the vase, and now this

you feel something deeply buried inside of you start to stir but you rush to nip it in the bud

your head and your heart are beginning to wage war against each other and suddenly everything feels like it’s too much

when you reach your bedroom, you throw open the double doors to step out onto the balcony, welcoming the chilling breeze of the darkening sky

you’re tired of fearing rejection if you open up

you’re tired of questioning yeosang’s intentions

and on top of it all, you suddenly miss home and you miss your parents and you miss juwon and-

“are you okay?”

yeosang’s soft question startles you, having missed his knocking at your door

he walks closer to join you out on the balcony when he sees that the answer is obviously a no, and he prompts you again, “what’s wrong?”

thoughts of vases and strawberry pastries flit across your mind

you start with half truths

“just missing my little brother”

“you love him a lot, don’t you,” yeosang smiles sweetly, “i can see it in the way you take care of yeoreum”

you can’t help the heat that slowly creeps up the back of your neck and to your ears, because it implies that he’s noticed all the times you’ve showered his little sister with the same love you give to juwon

it implies he’s noticed you

“what’s your fondest memory of juwon?” he asks when you nod

something within you thaws slightly at the fact that yeosang remembers your little brother’s name

you step closer to the edge of the balcony so that you can overlook the garden outside your room a little clearer, resting your hand on the railing as yeosang waits patiently

“we used to have this game we played. we had a lot of gardenia flowers growing around our courtyard and juwon loved cutting some to make me a mini bouquet,” you pause to shake your head with a chuckle, “it drove our mother nuts”

“doesn’t sound like it stopped him from continuing though, did it?” yeosang questions with mirth

“no, it didn’t,” your heart aches with fondness. “he would use a certain number of gardenias and make me guess what phrase containing the same number of letters he had in mind”

it never failed to tug your mouth into a smile whenever juwon giggled at your attempts to guess the flower phrase, even when most times he would bound away whilst singing answers like y-o-u s-t-i-n-k or d-u-m-b d-u-m-b

yeosang supports himself on the railing with one hand as he nearly folds in on himself in laughter, and before you know it, you too are gasping for air and wiping away tears from your eyes

when you both calm down relatively enough, only intermittent chuckles leaving your lips, yeosang clears his throat and scratches his neck awkwardly

“i know it might not be much, but maybe we can go out into town tomorrow and it might take your mind off things? and we can bring yeoreum along if that makes you feel more comfortable, because you’ve probably spent more time alone with her than you have with me?”

you don’t admit it, but you’re already feeling a little better, so you decide to tease, “are you asking me out on a date right now, kang yeosang?”

“oh, well, we’d be doing things a little backwards since we’re already like, married…but, yes? maybe? is that okay?”

it’s yeosang’s turn to flush a deep red as his usually composed demeanor is reduced to stutters, but you don’t notice under the faint glow cast by the moon now reigning the sky

“yeah, that’s okay”

you and yeosang smile fondly as your little trio stroll through a nearby town the following morning, his younger sister skipping ahead to peer at the colourful trinkets being sold at the market stalls, and your own small squad of royal soldiers following behind at a respectful distance

it’s kind of endearing how yeosang points out item after item, asking whether you like it or whether you find it pretty, in a not-so-subtle attempt to learn about your preferences

you have to stop him from buying you something from every second stall you both pass, but you’re unable to convince him from purchasing a small wooden toy as a gift for juwon, insisting that you give it to your little brother the next time you see him

the more you actually interact and talk with yeosang, the harder you find it to associate him with the memory of the yeosang in your rejected letters

because the equation of the letters, the vase and the pastries just does not add up

as you two sit under the awning of a small shop, watching yeoreum play with the shopkeeper’s dog, you find yourself unable to hold back anymore

“why didn’t you reply to my letters?” you break the silence, trying to hide the hurt laced in your voice

yeosang looks at you with wide eyes as his mouth stutters open

and in the smallest voice you have ever heard him speak with, he says

“you wrote me letters?”

your eyebrows knit together as your eyes dart back and forth between his, searching for any hint of deception

“too many to count,” you confess, “until you sent a letter telling me to stop…”

“impossible. i never got your letters”

your head recoils back as you try to make sense of his words, “but-”

“wait,” he interrupts

yeosang reaches into his robes, pulling out a small, wooden block, extending it out closer to you as he asks, “do you recognise this?”

upon closer inspection, you realise it’s a square seal stamp

it has the character ‘姜’ carved into it and you’ve seen it enough times to know it represents the kang family name - but the inscription that stylises the border is unfamiliar

“not the seal, no”

he swallows apprehensively, “i stamp all my letters with this to certify authenticity”

you let his words sink in as they throw you into a sandstorm of bewilderment

“but then-”

but then who wrote the letter?

and where did all your letters go?

the only people who would have known about them would be the royal couriers and…eunju

a memory flashes through your mind - the moment she handed you a letter with a smile

no, not a smile, you realise

a smirk

you are simultaneously overwhelmed with betrayal, guilt and apologeticness

yeosang doesn’t push you for a response, and you come to recognise that you are also grateful

“i’m sorry for doubting you,” you tell him

it’s nowhere close to the amount of things you want to confess, but it is a start, one that yeosang picks up on and understands immediately

“no, i’m sorry you felt the need to doubt me,” he offers. “that i didn’t make you feel loved enough”

“but i did, actually. the vase and the pastries, then our conversation last night…and even today”

he blushes a deep red as you list the things off with your fingers

“you weren’t meant to find out about the first two,” yeosang admits as he ducks his head shyly

then he suddenly perks up with a sudden thought

he ruffles inside his satchel that had been abandoned to one side, mumbling, “my sister said i did something to upset you…so i um, got you these”

he turns around to reveal a bouquet of flowers, looking a little rough for wear after being hidden in his bag all morning, but his clumsy consideration only serves to makes your heart skip dangerously

“forgive me?” he asks cheekily, and you both giggle at the absurdity of his question because it should very well be the other way around

“if you insist,” you take the bouquet into your hands

and finally, you allow the chains around your heart to fall away, “i can’t say no to my husband, can i?”

yeosang lets out a little squeak as you look at the bouquet more clearly, counting the number of flowers

you turn to ask if he remembers the game you told him about, but the way yeosang suddenly finds the patch of dirt near his foot absolutely fascinating tells you everything that you need to know

eight flowers

eight letters

i l-o-v-e y-o-u

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