#Melancholic Reverie

[wantsusdead]

FRANCIS CROZIER — 1.01 'Go For Broke' ◈ [crozier gifs] ◈

[changbunnies]

Reverie (18+)

♡ Pairing: Prince!Hyujin x Lord's Daughter!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, love at first sight, fairy tale elements, angst, fluff, eventual smut

♡ Word Count: 18.9k

♡ Summary: Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.

♡ Warnings: reader has an evil step-mother and step-sisters, involuntary confinement, themes of loneliness, isolation, and emotional + verbal abuse, reader is very touch starved and has low self-esteem from her mistreatment, past + referenced parental death (none are described) as well as having a parent who is sick, outdated marriage traditions, chan is featured and goes by chris, incredibly unrealistic because of the fairy tale romance inspo lol but it's a fun read, i hope!

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin hyunjin, petnames (darling), loss of virginity, nipple play, oral (f + m rec), unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: hey yall sorry its been a over month since my last post :') i was going thru a lot in my personal life that made it hard to write, as well as i HATED my first draft of this fic so i decided to entirely rewrite it gfsdhsdg but it's finally here after a lot of grief !! I honestly still don't like it all that much but I didn't want it to sit in my drafts any longer or rewrite for a third time so :') anyways i took a inspo for this one from rapunzel and cinderella, as well as a bit from sweeney todd (if you’ve seen the movie pls tell me you see the vision of hyunjin as jamie campbell bower’s character…) + a smidge of romeo and juliet.

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Sighing as he watches the scenery slowly pass him by through the carriage window, a deep frown adorns Hyunjin's face. He's no stranger to traveling, and normally he quite enjoys the break from the typical royal monotony, but this time around he can't bring himself to enjoy the sights that pass him by. The abundant flower fields, the surrounding lush forest on the edges, the perfectly blue sky.. none of them prevent the melancholy from setting in; because waiting for him at today's destination, in a manor just a fair few miles outside the castle city's walls, is yet another girl hoping to be his bride.

He's tired, to put it plainly; tired of meeting girl after girl who cares not for who he is as a person, but what his lineage offers them- and he expects today to go no differently. Why would he after the countless disappointments he's faced, after the myriad of times he's expected a night to end badly, and been proved right? And perhaps it is unfair of him to judge how the afternoon will go well before he's even met her, but his expectations have long since been set.

Hyunjin's royal attendant, who accompanies him to all his meetings and currently sits beside him within the carriage, does his best not to show how the prince's constant sighing grates on his nerves. Royal attendants should always be calm and patient in the face of frustration, and that is what Christopher strives to be; so he speaks to the prince as kindly as his dwindling patience will allow him. "Must you look so miserable? I imagine the girls won't take kindly to the prince looking at them with such disdain."

"Girls? Plural?" Hyunjin asks, groaning audibly when his attendant nods. Great. As if a blind setup with just one girl wasn't enough.. Still, he doesn't need to be reminded to mind his manners. He'll hold himself to the utmost royal standard when the time comes, as he always does- and he tells Chris as such. "I certainly hope so," Christopher responds with practiced ease, "There aren't many demoiselles left to meet, and your father will be disappointed if we return with more outright denials."

"I'm aware," Hyunjin replies simply, frustration still clear in his voice, though he tries his best to temper it. He knows his attendant is not wrong, and is simply trying to look out for him while also keeping Hyunjin's royal duty in mind. It's imperative that Hyunjin marry before his father's illness progresses to the point that he must concede the throne, and it's Christopher's job to ensure that Hyunjin doesn't forget that.

But still.. despite the circumstances begging for urgency, this is not a matter that Hyunjin is willing to bend on. He values true love, romance, genuine connection above all else; and so when he marries, he'll do it for real love, and real love only- even if it means the throne passes him by and goes instead to his uncle. Hyunjin doesn't understand, nor does he care, why the law requires him to marry to take the throne. He imagines it's related to ensuring that the noble line continues- something he ultimately pays no mind to and refuses to take seriously, though he knows he should.

Hyunjin is considered by most of the royal family to be stubborn by nature, a trait his father has told him countless times he gets from his late mother, but Hyunjin himself likes to believe he is reasonable. While he's not entirely malleable, he does act with the country's best interest in heart, and he swallows down all frustration and gracefully does whatever he feels he must in favor of doing what is best for the citizens.

It just so happens that marriage is the one thing on which he will not compromise; and stubborn or not, Hyunjin thinks he should be allowed this one thing. All he wants is genuine love with someone who places the same amount of value in that love as he does, and he never expected that such a wish would be too much to ask for. But either way, all he can do for now is straighten his posture, put on his best smile, and hope that against his expectations, today will bring him the love he’s been searching for.

Similarly, you too stare from your window; though not from a horse-drawn carriage, but from where your bedroom lies on the second floor of your late father's manor. According to your step-mother, a very important suitor is coming to meet your step-sisters today, and she has taken every necessary precaution in ensuring you would be out of the way for the evening. You were used to such treatment by now, and being locked away in your room and ignored for hours on end was no longer something that brought you the intense grief it once had.

Sad to say, it'd become a simple fact of life since your father passed; you were used to the loneliness and the sadness and the grief of having a family that did not love you as you loved them. Truly, you loved your step-mother and sisters, and back then you never would've guessed they secretly abhorred your existence. But your father passed, and with his passing came the truth- that she never loved your father, or you- just what he had; and she was raising her daughters to be just the same.

Against his wife's knowledge or wishes however, your father's will had stipulations she must follow if she wanted to inherit his estate- the most important of which being that she care for you, his precious, only biological daughter, as one of her own until the day you are wed and depart from the manor to be with your new family. Thanks to this clause, your step-mother provides for you; and though it is only the bare minimum amount necessary, it could certainly be worse. You still have your childhood bedroom, all your precious belongings, 3 hot meals a day, and the maids who helped your father raise you still checking in on you.

The maids are forbidden from interacting with you more than is necessary, as your step-mother makes it her mission to make you as miserable as possible within the limitations your father's will provides, but they do what they can. The small talk they provide while filling your bath with hot water, and the snuck in messages written on scraps of paper hidden beneath your dinner tray are often the highlights of your day. You are lonely, but not alone, and that keeps you going on the particularly hard days.

Days like today, where the padlock your step-mother installed outside your bedroom door is ordered to remain locked no matter what, ensuring that you are unable to leave and ruin her evening, or her plans. She intends to find her daughters wealthy, prestigious husbands- men that cannot be given the chance to look upon you, lest they decide they like you more than her biological daughters.

You wouldn't misbehave regardless of whether or not the lock was in place. You're so used to being locked away in your room that even were the lock to no longer exist, you don't think you'd even notice; because you wouldn't ever try to leave in the first place. And compounding on that, you don't think yourself particularly special or beautiful enough to "threaten" your sister's marriage prospects; all you'd do is needlessly subject yourself to reminders that you're lesser than when they inevitably gloss over you.

You simply.. exist. But in your step-mother's eyes, that's your greatest sin. She hates you, and your existence alone causes her great grief. The simple fact that you exist prevented her from truly obtaining what she wanted most; your father's wealth hinged on you being taken care of to obtain. And thus, she couldn't just throw you out and leave you to your fate as she originally intended; so she begrudgingly provides for you, the depth of her loathing coming out in passive-aggressive words, meals resentfully delivered, and a locked bedroom door where she can leave you for a time and pretend her greatest wish is true- that you don't exist.

Staring out your window is how you've come to spend most of your days. Daydreaming, listening to birds sing, watching deer graze and rabbits sprint across the fields and between the trees. You reread your books to the point you could recite them with ease, you fantasize about love and companionship and freedom, and you wonder if there will ever come a day where such joy can be yours. You suspect not; when you do marry, it'll likely be to some terrible man your step-mother chooses on the basis that they continue your misery.

But in the sanctity of your bedroom, inside your imagination and idle daydreams, you can pretend that true love and happiness waits for you. Where you are valued and cherished and adored, where you are wanted and craved, where a life without you in it cannot even be imagined, for it would be too painful for your lover to even consider.

Lost in thought as you are, you almost miss it when the carriage your step-mother and sisters are expecting comes into sight. And normally you would pull yourself away from the window, make sure you're out of sight from whomever exits the carriage, lest whoever your step-mother is having over recognize you. But this carriage is so different from the ones that typically arrive at the manor that it makes you curious.

It's fancy- easily the most extravagant and ornate carriage you've ever seen; not that you've seen many, but the point stands. It's clear that whomever your family is meeting today is no ordinary suitor. There’s a crest beholden on the door, one that seems vaguely familiar, and you wish you could place it as it would assuredly be a hint to who is arriving, but the memory of what family it comes from eludes you.

It’s been so long since you’ve been out to the city, or communicated with families your father was close with, that it's hard to recall the family crests you once so easily recognized. But whatever family it belongs to, one thing is clear- they are surely wealthy and prestigious to afford a carriage this grand. No wonder your step-mother wants you out of the way today; if a wealthy suitor somehow chooses you over her real daughters, that would be her worst nightmare. 

You watch with bated breath as a man steps out from the left side of the carriage, a man you can tell from dress alone is some sort of attendant. He works his way around to the right of the carriage to open the door for whoever remains inside- the wealthy suitor being an obvious guess. And really, you should look away and mind your own business lest you risk angering your step-mother, but you can't help yourself. This is the closest thing to fresh entertainment you’ve had (and are going to have), and so you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away.

And oh, the man who steps out when the door is opened for him is breathtaking. Even at a distance, he’s positively ethereal- easily the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. And you are certain that, even with your lack of worldly experience, he is utterly without comparison. He’s pretty, impossibly pretty, with long black hair, half of which is tied back by a ribbon, rings adorning his fingers, ornate yet dainty bracelets that seem to perfectly match the necklaces he wears, and beautiful, pure white and dangly earrings that remind you of a teardrop in shape, all of which match his equally embellished doublet.

He looks so very grand, elegant, to the point that you feel absolutely unworthy to even be looking at someone so strikingly gorgeous and well dressed. God, if he chooses one of your step-sisters to marry, someone so clearly wealthy and beautiful and important.. you just know your step-mother will lord it over you as her greatest proof that they are better than you.

The bitter, hurt part of you half wished the man your sisters were meeting today would be boorish and unimpressive, but of course that’s not the case.. And it saddens you, strangely. You like to think yourself above pettiness, and you’d rather experience the world through a lens of kindness despite what you’ve suffered, but seeing someone so utterly perfect going to meet your sisters, and knowing how they will mock you and laugh in your face should he fall for one of them..

Maybe, somewhere deep down, you’re jealous. Jealous, and angry, and hurt, as you’ve always been, but tried not to acknowledge. And it’s not the perceived wealth you’re jealous of, or the possibility of a beautiful husband, but the chance for connection they have that you don’t. That they can meet someone like him and be given the chance to fall in love, while you are forced into isolation and monotony. It isn’t fair, and it never has been, but today of all days is where you feel that injustice most strongly.

You choke on the melancholy, your eyes well with tears that you try to blink away as your hands ball into fists in your lap. You shouldn’t have watched the window today or let your curiosity and boredom get the best of you- all you’ve done is make yourself impossibly sad. You begin to stand from your seat by the window, ready yourself to close the curtains and wallow in your bed for the rest of the evening, when suddenly, you freeze. Your hand unmoving on the curtain, eyes widening with the realization that your sister’s suitor is looking at you. And it's not as simple as a passing glance- no, he is staring at you.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened when he first saw you in the window, at first just passively looking over the manor and taking in the sight as he readied himself to enter, before his eyes fell upon you. And upon seeing you, he became completely and utterly enraptured by your beauty, in a way he’s never experienced with anyone he’s ever met before.

He can’t help but stare, can’t manage to tear his eyes away from your visage even when Chris calls his name. And when you stand to close the curtains, and your eyes travel to him and meet his gaze, his breath catches in his throat, his heart skips a beat before it races, and his face flushes to an impossibly bright pink.

How and why does he have this feeling? How is that you enchant him with just a glance, when others have failed to with much more? You’ve not yet truly met, nor spoken a single word, and yet he feels it firmly- a desire hereto unmatched, that does not follow preconceived notions of what is logical, the kind you would only read about in the great romantic works of playwrights and novelists. A feeling he never expected to be based in truth, but here he is now, feeling it for himself- love at first sight.

And if love at first sight is real and it is true, then he cannot wait to meet you. To learn your name and hear your voice and speak with you until your throats run dry. He’ll devote himself to learning everything about you, to carving your every word and thought into his memory. He wants to learn what it is about your soft, melancholic expression that he finds so entrancing, to discover what it is that causes his heart to stir in ways entirely foreign to him.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Prince Hyunjin, Hyunjin-” Christopher tries every way possible to get the prince’s attention, letting out an exasperated sigh when Hyunjin finally turns back to him. He doesn’t even know what caught his attention- when he tried to follow the prince’s gaze, all he was met with was a window with its curtains pulled shut. “My apologies. I just-” Hyunjin starts, taking one last glance at the now empty window before turning back to his attendant. “Nevermind. Let’s just go inside.”

Chris quietly huffs his agreement, quickly offering the manor’s maids who were waiting on them his apologies in Hyunjins stead, as he is used to. He’s accustomed to not understanding what goes on inside the prince’s head, but at least he seems prepared now.. Almost happy, Chris would think if he didn’t know better. Regardless of its origin and whether or not he understands where it came from, he will welcome it- because it really is vital that Hyunjin choose a bride with haste.

The start of the evening goes as predictably as anticipated from that point on- the maids lead them to the great room, offering tea and freshly baked sweets while they wait. Hyunjin politely turns them down while Chris stands a comfortable distance away, there simply to keep an eye on the prince and observe how the arranged meeting proceeds. The lady of the manor enters the room after some time passes, bowing politely and apologizing for the delay before ushering her daughters into the room.

They’re dressed extravagantly, as expected, with expensive jewelry, perfectly laid hair, and tasteful makeup. They introduce themselves politely, though they erupt into quiet giggles afterwards, likely excited that one of them will potentially be chosen to marry the prince. Their mother shoots them a look, and it makes them clear their throats and cease their elated giggling, returning to proper posture with their hands folded in front of them, both smiling at him sweetly. But something’s wrong..

Hyunjin looks between the girls, their mother, and back to the girls, head tilting and brows furrowing in confusion; he doesn’t see the one from the window anywhere.. Shouldn’t she be here? “Isn’t there another?” he asks, and the dame’s eyes widen for a moment, a complex flash of emotions that Hyunjin doesn’t have enough time to fully decipher within them, before she reverts back to her previous calm, inviting demeanor. 

“I believe I wrote in my proposal to the royal family that I have two, and only two, daughters. Perhaps there was a miscommunication between you and your men?” She suggests, and though it’s spoken kindly, Hyunjin gets the distinct impression that she wants to shut down any talk of a third daughter here and now. Christopher too is confused, but he apologizes to the dame, insisting the mistake is his fault, though it certainly isn’t.

The dame accepts the apology and swiftly moves on, though the tension still lingers. Even as she begins to talk at great length about how wonderful her daughters are and how lucky everyone involved would be should Hyunjin choose one of them to be his princess, there’s an edge beneath the kindly spoken words that hint towards how bothered his mistake made her. Her daughters too seem tense when he first questions if there is another, though by the time they are allowed to speak themselves all tension in them seems to melt away, instead focusing on singing their own praises and expressing their desire to see the royal castle.

It’s so jarring, tense, awkward, that it completely prevents Hyunjin from being able to focus on a single word the girls say. Ordinarily, he would not bat an eye at someone correcting a mistake in his speech or for having come to an incorrect conclusion, as it is imperative that a prince goes about his dealings with as correct as information as possible. But that being said, the dame’s reaction rubs him the wrong way, especially when paired with the nervous flash in her daughter’s eyes as their bodies tensed..

If he was simply mistaken, it would be natural and correct for her to clear up any misgivings he has about her family and estate kindly- there’d be no reason to address him with such underlying hostility or be on the defensive, as if he’d brought up a point that needs to be fiercely fought against. The emotion that flickered in their eyes, the terse words filled with faux-niceties, the shift in body language.. They suggest to Hyunjin only one thing- that a third daughter is in fact here; and for some strange reason, the lady of the house doesn’t want him to meet her.

But why would that be? The ideas that cross his mind make him woefully unable to focus on anything spoken to him. Maybe you’re already promised to someone else, maybe you’ve been married before and are now widowed, living in your old family home while stricken with grief.. Maybe you’re a cousin simply having a visit that by pure chance coincides with the prince arriving too, or maybe he imagined you somehow. But could that really be? You were so real, that doesn’t seem possible..

“But what do you think? .. Prince Hyunjin..?” One of the girls asks, and when he doesn’t reply, Chris clears his throat and steps forward to subtly nudge the prince, breaking him from his thoughts. “Allow me to apologize. The prince is.. tired these days. He’s got a lot on his plate, as I’m sure you understand,” Chris says, shooting Hyunjin a look that begs him to take the lead and finish cleaning the mess he’s made.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Uhm- perhaps you could allow me a small break? And then I promise you’ll both have my undivided attention,” Hyunjin suggests, being sure to offer them his most charismatic smile in the hopes they’ll look past how inattentive he’s been thus far. They agree easily, giggling and lightly blushing, assuring him a break is good for everyone (which he knows isn’t true, but it’s polite of them, at least.)

This time, he accepts the tea when it’s offered to him, chugging it down in a display that goes completely against the manners that have been drilled into him. He asks to be led to the nearest restroom, splashes water on his face and wills himself to focus on the task at hand. And though it comes with great difficulty, he forces himself to pay strict attention to every word spoken to him from that point onward, though your image continues to exist in the back of his mind the entire time.

Hyunjin steps out of the manor with a sigh, finding himself entirely drained after his meeting with the two sisters and their incredibly duplicitous mother. Originally, he’d planned to leave before nightfall, but they somehow managed to rope him into having dinner with them, and to say it was exhausting would be an understatement. Now he stands in the light of the moon, deep frown returning as he waits for preparations to leave to be made- because he absolutely refuses to stay here until morning.

As expected, once he broke himself out of his fog and started paying attention to what they were saying, they were incredibly vain and equally daft, and the more he spoke to them, the clearer it became that they weren’t fit to someday sit on a throne. It was extremely obvious that they were vying for increased fortune and pride- and at the behest of their mother specifically. To old herself to marry into the royal family, it seemed she was content to allow her daughters to do the social climbing on her behalf.

Not that her daughter’s are completely ignorant of this plot- he’s sure they’re well aware of the benefits if one of them becomes a princess, and are well instructed and prepped on how best to appeal themselves to a noble’s proclivities. Unfortunately for them, Hyunjin is unlike most nobles, and he takes the task of one day rearing his country very seriously- much too seriously to marry someone selfish, and without grace or tact, nor whom he fails to have a genuine connection with. Beauty alone won’t be enough to win him over.

Saying that however.. He can’t seem to stop thinking about the strikingly gorgeous girl he saw from the window. He feels himself a hypocrite, saying it takes more than good looks to win his heart, and yet still finding himself hung up on the mysterious beauty in the window. He looks up to that window, and sees nothing- the curtains are drawn, the room pitch dark, and there’s a part of him that considers the dame’s words true. There is no third girl, and what he saw was perhaps a phantom, a trick of the light, a mysterious cousin, or..

Well, he doesn’t know what, but he can’t allow himself to continue to linger on a girl that may not even be real, or obtainable if she does exist. "What's going on with you tonight? You never have a good time at these things, but you've been more off than is.. typical of you," Chris suddenly speaks up after Hyunjin sighs once more, and the prince frowns as he looks to his attendant.

A lot weighs on his mind; more than he feels he can even begin to explain. The way Hyunjin's thoughts swim in his head like a whirlpool- can he even begin to express himself in a way that is coherent and understandable to his most trusted attendant? Regardless, he has to start somewhere, and so he tries. “I’m afraid that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. Those girls were.. vapid to say the least. I’ve no interest in marrying a social climber, but.. I am beginning to think that perhaps I have no choice.” 

Chris' expression softens as he offers Hyunjin a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. There is little he can do to make the prince feel better about his circumstance, he knows; he often has to remind Hyunjin to keep his royal duty in mind, and though it doesn't always show, he does feel bad that the prince is forced into such a situation.

It can't be easy bearing such a burden, and Chris certainly doesn't envy the struggle to find a bride under such constraints, or the responsibilities that will come to Hyunjin once he is wed. “Well, don’t fret too hard about that just yet. We still have a few more interested parties we’ve yet to meet. And maybe the universe wants to show you the wrong first, so that when you meet who is right.. you’ll know,” Chris says earnestly, trying his best to show the prince support.

"Mm, maybe," Hyunjin mumbles, desperately hoping his attendant is right. He hoped you would be that right person, but if fate deems it right to show him heartache and to put him through trials before happiness can come to him then he will just have to accept that. Chris frowns, but knows there is not much else he can offer to ease the prince's worries; so he instead turns his attention to the carriage to check on the progress for departure.

 “Looks like we’re ready to depart,” Chris says after the coachman finishes adorning the carriage with lanterns suitable for the night ride back to the castle, "Maybe you'll feel better after some rest. And if you'd like, we can talk some more about this tomorrow." Hyunjin simply nods, following his attendant to the carriage with an immense weight still on his shoulders.

Despite what he logically knows, he can't shake his sadness over the fact that his burden wasn't lifted this evening, the irrational sorrow that comes from his hopes being dashed- that the beautiful girl he saw in the window could not be met.. But he tries to think that maybe it’s for the best that there wasn’t a third daughter for him to meet after all. Given the influence of their mother, she’d likely have been just as bad as her sisters, and that would’ve surely broken his heart beyond the ache he feels now. 

Chris approaches the left-side door first, opening it swiftly and then standing to the side, motioning for Hyunjin to enter first, as is customary. Hyunjin places a hand on the doorframe and a foot on the iron step, ready to step inside in the carriage, but takes one last glance at the manor before he does. And there, a glimmer of hope- the image of you, just barely there peeking through the curtains, the faint light of a candle flickering in your hand.

Though a considerable distance away, he can see your eyes widen when you realize he sees you yet again, gasping and quickly moving away from the window, the light of your candle disappearing with your image. “She’s there!” Hyunjin exclaims, instantly separating himself from the carriage, and taking an unconscious step back towards the manor. “Who’s there?” Chris questions as he follows Hyunjin’s gaze to the window, confused to, again, find absolutely no one and nothing of note.

"I.. don't know who exactly, but she was there, I saw her," Hyunjin continues, and while Chris is still utterly baffled, he does see that the curtains are slightly swaying despite the window being closed- meaning someone was there, and caused them to shift by either touching them, or walking past them. He looks back to Chris, sees the hesitant, puzzled expression, and tries to explain himself in the briefest, but most concise way possible.

“I saw her in the window when we first arrived too! I asked the dame about her, thinking she may have had another daughter, but you heard how she reacted- she brushed me off so coldly.” "Well.. maybe she was telling the truth? It's possible she's simply a maid," Chris suggests, but Hyunjin quickly shakes his head. "She isn't. I assure you, after seeing their maids I wouldn't confuse her for one.. She's entirely unlike any of them."

"Okay.. So she's not a maid. But there could still be a reasonable explanation for everything," Chris says, and oh no, he can instantly tell where Hyunjin's mind is going. "Exactly! So I'm going to meet her, and find out what that reason is," Hyunjin says, wasting no time in walking back up to the manor. “What? How exactly do you plan on doing that when the dame clearly didn’t want you to meet her?” Chris quietly exclaims as he follows Hyunjin towards the direction of your window.

“There’s a trellis near her window, and I intend to climb it,” Hyunjin smiles, as if it’s a perfectly reasonable plan and not at all insane for him to do. “Go back to the carriage, and instruct the coachman to drive it down the road and out of sight. I don’t want the ladies of the house to know I’m still here if they happen to look out from their windows,” Hyunjin instructs, and again, Chris is absolutely floored by the prince. “Your Highness, you- you can’t be serious,” he quietly exclaims again, though he can tell Hyunjin is entirely serious about all of this.

"Just do this for me, please? I need to do this- for my peace of mind if nothing else," Hyunjin tells him, and though Chris still doesn't understand why the prince is so adamant about meeting you, he can see the sincerity and the drive in his eyes, and so he concedes. “Fine, just.. try to be discreet and don’t take too long, okay? And don’t make her uncomfortable!” Chris warns and Hyunjin thanks his attendant warmly before turning his attention back to your window.

He approaches the manor carefully, tiptoeing up to the trellis that will act as his ladder to your window. He places a foot into one of the slots and carefully adds his weight, making sure it’ll hold before he begins to climb it in earnest. He’s never done anything like this, but he knows he’d regret it if he didn’t at least try to meet the woman who so easily captured his heart with just a glance, while desperately, and maybe vainly, hoping he has a chance with you.

Hyunjin knocks softly on the window once he reaches it, doing his best to make it loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud that he would alarm anyone who may be nearby. Though your room is dark, the moon offers just enough illumination through the curtains that he can make you out. And while unlit, you are still holding the candle in one hand, while the other is nervously placed over your heart.

You can't believe this happening- the devastatingly handsome man meant to be wooed by one of your sisters saw you again, and is now at your window? Your heart is racing out of control, you don't know what to do or what to think seeing him there, waiting for you to approach the window, approach him.

You didn't even expect to see him again when you stepped to your window and peeked out; you simply saw lantern light from your window whilst preparing for bed, and it piqued your interest. You wanted to know what was going on, of course you did, so you looked, fully expecting the answer to be guards doing an uncharacteristically late sweep of the grounds, or maids sneaking out to meet the secret lovers you knew them to have.

But what you saw instead was the beautiful man from earlier in the process of stepping inside his grand carriage- and as if sensing you were watching, he turned to the manor, his eyes instantly falling on you. Just as you had this evening, you gasped and quickly shuffled away from the window, blowing out your candle as your heart pounded in your chest. Several seconds passed, and with trembling steps, you stepped back to the window and took one more cautious glance outside, only to see him approaching the manor, clearly intending to seek you out.

You gasped again, moving away from the window once more, mind reeling and pulse quickening. And now he’s here, having clearly climbed the trellis up to your window, hope in his eyes as he looks at you and waits. Swallowing, you carefully set the candle down on your nearby nightstand before you take cautious steps back towards the window, opening it ever so slightly. “May I come in?” he asks quietly, likely recognizing that speaking at full volume would be unwise, “I wish to speak with you.”

His voice is as silky and pretty as you imagined, and it positively jolts you. Everything about him seems impossibly perfect- part of you thinks that you've must've already fallen asleep, that you're tucked in bed and having a vivid dream based on the events of the day. But no, you've never dreamed as vividly as this, and you'd certainly remember if you'd crawled into bed after checking the lantern light from the window.

And that leaves you with a dilemma; the man, as gorgeous as he is, is still a stranger- and certainly you can't just let a strange man enter your room through your window.. That goes against everything your father ever taught you about safety. So you hesitate, observing him carefully for a moment.

And maybe it's just the fact that he's beautiful, or your yearning for connection that makes you want to trust him, even if it makes no logical sense to do so. You can't help but think he looks genuine and sincere, and well.. you can't ignore how desperately you desire to talk to someone, anyone, for more than the brief amount you're allowed to with your maids. Still, even if you crave connection with someone, you should be careful who you speak to shouldn't you?

He notices the hesitancy, recognizes what kind of situation he's imposing on you, and so he speaks up again, "Or I can stay here and we just talk through the window? If that's okay with you." Hyunjin knows he's being unreasonable and getting way too ahead of himself in his desire to speak with you, and it's crucial that he does his utmost to show you that he has no intention of making you uncomfortable.

Really, you should turn him down; but logic has left you, and truth be told you don't entirely trust that he can stand at the top of the trellis and support his own weight for much longer. So, you open your window further, granting him permission to step inside in your bedroom. He crawls in through your window as quietly as he can manage, smiling at you when he's fully inside. His smile is timid, and a bit awkward- this is easily the most nervous he’s ever felt, and he knows he’s going about meeting you completely backwards, but what other choice did he have? 

Your mother, aunt, or whoever she is to you- he doubts she would’ve allowed him the chance to meet you. Her words and body language were much too passive aggressive to lead him to believe she’d meet the request to speak with you kindly, nor does he think she'd take kindly to being insinuated a liar. Additionally, it was highly unlikely that she’d willingly and truthfully divulge information about you or answer his questions. And so it led him to this- his fateful first meeting with the girl of his dreams happening within her moonlit bedroom.

He's completely out of his depth and unsure of himself or anything he's doing, but he holds out his palm, offering for you to place your hand in his. You blink, look up and down between his hand and his patient expression, and then you remember- oh, right, proper introductions. The setting is unorthodox, but it seems he still has it in mind to be polite and correct; as much as is possible, anyways.

You hesitate a moment, but ultimately place your hand in his, and he bows to you, lifting your hand to his mouth and placing a chaste kiss just above the knuckle. It's a simple, proper greeting, one that most people your age are entirely accustomed to, but it's been so long since you experienced it that it makes your skin erupt in goosebumps and heart thump erratically in your chest.

And there's the fact that he's jaw droppingly gorgeous- that certainly doesn't help.

You do your best to collect yourself when he straightens back up and looks at you once more. "I'm Hyunjin," he tells you in case you don't know, voice still as soft as it was at your window, a near whisper, "would you tell me your name, please?" This whole thing is entirely out of order and backwards, but you politely curtsey after offering him your name, though it feels silly to do so in your night chemise. And something about the way he looks at you makes your face burn hotter than it ever has.

All he’s heard is you speak your name, but he already considers your voice to be just as pretty as you are- he hopes he’ll get to hear it far beyond this single night. "If I may, I want to ask.. Do you know who I am? Or why I came here today?" He asks, looking directly into your eyes as he awaits your answer. You swallow, the eye contact making your heart skip a beat and pulse climb, but you steady yourself the best you can to answer. "You're.. a suitor who came to meet my sisters. But I didn't know your name until you told me it." 

Hyunjin's eyes flicker with unfamiliar emotion as he takes in your answer- he knew it! You're no ordinary girl, nor a housemaid with an unusually lavish room. And what strikes him, apart from the confirmation that you're related to the girls he met downstairs, is what you said about him. You didn't know his name, don't know who he is apart from a potential suitor to your sisters.

He still doesn't understand why you weren't allowed to meet him, but it gives him hope- that if you are unwed, your love can be genuine. You won't marry him for title or wealth or power, but for who he is as a person. In the 4 corners of your bedroom, his name holds no weight, and that's all he's ever wanted.

But he should ask now, before he gets too ahead of himself and breaks his own heart, or lets a leap in logic carry him far beyond where rationality can reach him- ask if you are already promised to another. "Are you betrothed?" Hyunjin asks, and you quickly shake your head, surprised by the way he smiles in a mix of joy and relief to know you are unwed. Is that.. a good thing?

You're not even sure why you shook your head so vehemently when he first asked, as if you wanted there to be no mistake. Why would it matter to him if you are going to be married to someone or not? But something about his smile tells you it matters to him very much, though it is impossible for you to fathom why that could be. "Why do you ask..?" you question hesitantly, unsure of what you even hope to hear in response.

"Since I first saw you in the window, I've wanted to know you," he tells you earnestly, and your heart once again skips a beat. You knew he saw you, and you knew that were he perceptive enough to tell you aren't a maid he'd likely have questions about you or lingering curiosity. But it still surprises you that he shows this much interest- that it's more to him than just a passing question he'd be content to forget about in a day's time.

“Why didn’t you ask my mother then?” you ask him, though you suspect you know the answer. It’s not that he’s trying to solve a mystery or investigate why a seemingly innocuous girl is tucked away out of sight from visitors- and while you’re sure he’d welcome the answers to such questions, it’s more than that. For some strange reason, it’s just you- you as a person that he wants to know.

And you don’t know what to do with that. Your existence is so often ignored and trivialized, you can’t begin to understand why a glance of you in the window is enough to drive him to seek you out. You can’t understand what it is about you that is worth this, worth the curiosity and the climb to your window. Why would anyone want to speak to you so badly? You’re not special enough to warrant this.

“I did ask, and I didn’t like the answer,” Hyunjin says, and you blink in surprise. You can easily imagine that your step-mother would dismiss your existence when asked about you, or say something along the lines of “she doesn’t matter,” or “don’t worry about her, she’s nobody,”- so it’s not that that surprises you. What surprises you is that he heard an answer and not only didn’t accept it, but said he didn’t like it. Why?

Try as you might, you can't understand his motivations. Even if he could tell there was more that your step-mother wasn't telling him, why does he care so much about who you are? All visitors before Hyunjin who have stolen a glance at you either never asked about you, or have accepted her answers at face value, and it made sense that they did- because what reason did they have to push for the truth, or meet you regardless of her wishes?

“I’m interested in you, and I didn’t believe what I was told. I want to know you,” he continues, reiterates his sentiment, and you feel utterly frozen. All you can manage to do is blink up at him, your breath and words caught in your throat. And you realize your hand still rests in his, and you’re sure he can feel the way it trembles- from confusion, from nerves, from the simple act of even being held by someone for the first time since you were a child. But he doesn’t let go, and you don’t take it away- because he’s interested in you, and you want to know what that means, want to cling to the possibility that you can have the companionship that has eluded you for years.

“But.. why?” you finally ask, mind reeling from the possibilities. Regardless of what your step-mother may have told him, there’s one thing that she’s never wrong about- that you’re nobody, nothing, that your existence is a hindrance and you’re better off shoved aside where you can’t impose on her. You used to challenge that thought, but you’ve long since lost the will to fight against it, often finding yourself believing it to be true. And since you’re not special, or important, or particularly pretty, why is he so interested in you? You just don’t get it. 

"If you'll forgive me for being forward.. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. And I know it's presumptuous of me, and perhaps shallow, to want to meet you so badly for that alone but.. I couldn't let the image of you go. I had to take the chance to find out who you are," Hyunjin spills his thoughts freely, making his desires and motivations clear.

And just as before, it leaves you completely stunned. What he's saying.. that can't be right. You? The most beautiful he's ever seen? That feels like something you should be saying to him- Hyunjin is easily the most radiant and ethereal person you've ever seen, but he's saying all this about you?

You're rendered speechless, face burning impossibly hot as the words repeat themself in your mind on a loop. "I've got to go," he continues, slowly letting go of your hand as he prepares to return to the window, "but I want- I hope you’ll allow me to see you again." I hope you'll give me a chance to win your heart, he wants to add, but he's already been much more forward than he'd ever imagined himself to be, and he doesn't want to jeopardize anything that might be budding.

He steps back to the window and you follow, watching as he readies himself to climb back down the trellis he used to reach you. "We'll meet again?" he asks after settling his weight on the trellis, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. It feels foolish, and a bit naive to wish so hard that you'll desire to see him again; all he can do now is hope the impression he made is enough to allow you defy your sense of logic, just as you've done to him simply by looking his way.

You smile softly, the first smile you've shown him, the first you've done in God knows how long- and you nod as you promise him you will. You don't know how it will work or where it will lead, if anywhere, but you think you'd regret it if you didn't at least try. You miss companionship, you miss having someone to talk to, you miss smiling and the feeling of comfort and joy that comes from being close with someone who understands and knows you. You don't want to let this opportunity to have someone in your life slip you by.

Hyunjin's heart jumped when you smiled at him, and he returned the smile brightly as he said his goodbyes, heart still thumping and smile still plastered on his face as he descended the trellis. He looks back to the window, waving to you when he sees you watching from between the curtains, a giddy feeling building in his stomach when you wave back. Following the dirt road away from the manor, he meets back up with Chris at the carriage, happily relaying everything that happened to him on their way back to the castle.

You retired to your bed once Hyunjin was out of sight, but found it hard to sleep following your interactions. Curled up under the blankets, eyes closed and heavy, ready to sleep, but mind racing and replaying the night's events. There's a chance that this is a mistake, but you don't think you'll regret having taken the chance- because the hope and joy you feel now is the most delightful feeling you've experienced since you were a girl, and that feeling alone is worth whatever trouble it may bring your way.

It's hard to explain in words the emotions that come from having Hyunjin close to you. From having just a few short months ago gone from spending your nights restless from loneliness, to now lying awake in bed wondering if tonight will be one of the nights you hear his tap on your window. Going from hardly ever speaking a word, to now talking so much that your throat aches. To never feeling the warmth of another, to lingering touches and reluctant parting of held hands heating your skin.

You suppose what you can say is that it feels like the hole in your heart is being mended; a void wrenched open by loss and sadness slowly repaired with each clandestine meeting you share. It's bittersweet, sometimes; your melancholy was easier to ignore when you didn't have someone to share your thoughts and feelings with. It’s strange, how gaining what you were missing makes the bad in your life hurt much worse. It awakens a new fear within you- that one day, Hyunjin will tire of you, and you'll be alone once more.

As if knowing your fears, irrational or not, Hyunjin makes it no secret how he feels about you, or what he hopes the two of you may become. Besides, the very reason he first came to the manor was to answer a marriage proposal- so of course he makes it clear how much he likes you. And though you're aware of his feelings, you don't feel any sort of pressure or expectation from him, nor does he ever make you uncomfortable. You get the distinct impression that should you ever reject him, Hyunjin would move on gracefully, even if it weighed heavily on his heart.

All that being said, he hasn't blatantly asked you to be his bride yet, though it is obvious he wishes to. And putting aside what is rational, proper, or logical, you don't think you'd turn him down were he to ask you now. Hyunjin has become the highlight of your days, the hope that keeps you going when loneliness and sadness acutely strike you. He's radiant and intelligent and effortlessly witty; and you can still remember the way his eyes lit up the first time he made you laugh.

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing too loudly, and Hyunjin's eyes crinkled as his smile beamed. He told you it was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard, that happiness suited you much more than sadness, that he hoped you'd smile and laugh more than you'd frown. And you think as long as you're with him, that'll be an easy promise to keep.

You've confided in him much of your life, your thoughts, and your feelings. He's an attentive listener, as well as empathetic and compassionate. And while you're sure to most it's the bare minimum, it felt nice to be listened to for once; to cry openly without being ignored, or mocked on the off chance you were acknowledged. It was nice to be held and gently consoled as you let out years worth of pent up tears flow out, though by the end you were always greatly embarrassed by your red eyes and puffy face.

Hyunjin, who wasn't fond of your step-mother from the start, liked her even less after you'd explained what you'd gone through following the loss of your father. It was interesting, as well as vindicating, hearing in detail his first impression of her, and how accurately he pin-pointed her personality and motivations. He told you he was used to dealing with people such as her, and his ability to nail her down was proof enough of that.

That's why he likes you, he said; likes that you're nothing like your step-mother, or step-sisters, or the countless other people he's met that hold the same motivations and values as them. There was no denying that his attraction to you started with your appearance, he admitted so himself right from the start, but you believe him when he says he's not superficial enough to marry for looks alone.

Whether you're as pretty as he says you are is still a matter of contention within yourself, but you try not to reject the compliments; especially not when he speaks them so earnestly. You don't find yourself special, but maybe it's enough that he does. And you recognize that everything about your relationship with Hyunjin is unconventional, but you don't dwell much on it.

You never would've had the chance to meet someone normally, and you welcome the solace and joy he brings you just by being near. When you think further upon how close the two of you have become, you wonder if words like "friend" or "companion" are enough. You wonder if this is what it means to be in love, if longing and desire and joy are really as hand in hand as they were always portrayed in your novels.

His tap on your window comes earlier than you expect it to today, elation spreading through your veins instantly as you rush to the window to open it for him. Normally, Hyunjin doesn't come to you until the sun has long since fallen, but tonight he arrives while the last specs of sunset still linger on the horizon. "You're early," you comment simply, a small smile spreading on your lips as he steps his way inside to your bedroom.

"Couldn't wait anymore," he replies, meeting you with a soft smile of his own. Summer brought with it longer days, which meant longer waits for Hyunjin to arrive at your window, and less time spent together before he had to rush back to his home. He pulls you into an embrace, gentle and warm, and you squeeze him tight for a small moment before you allow yourself to melt in his arms.

His hands rest comfortably on your back, lingering even as you pull slightly away to look up at him. "Your hair has gotten longer," you muse, taking a soft strand into your hand and admiring it between your fingers. "Has it?" he asks, having not noticed himself; it's hard to notice subtle changes considering he sees it everyday. "Do you like it?" he follows up, ever so slightly tilting his head as he awaits your answer. 

"I do," you reply as you let it fall from your fingertips, now letting your hand fall to his shoulder, "it's pretty." He hums in response, smile turning bashful. Since becoming more comfortable in his presence, you speak your mind more openly, which also means he receives more compliments from you. There's a shyness that lingers, a blush often overtaking your cheeks after an admittance of finding him pretty, or handsome, or beautiful, but it never stops you from saying what you truly think.

Hyunjin is used to receiving compliments; and it's not meant to sound vain, but that's the reality of being the prince. And because he is used to them, he is normally unaffected by such words; but with you it's different. He isn't blind, of course, he knows he's conventionally attractive- but it's the intent of the words that matter. Unlike others he's met, you are genuine and sincere. You don't speak with ulterior motives, you don't say things unless you earnestly mean them.

So, when you say he's pretty, he takes great pride in it; because you aren't saying it out of a sense of obligation or gain. You just like him, and he likes you- that's all there is to your interactions. The affection you share is the realest thing he's ever felt, refreshing and authentic.

You know he's the prince, though he hasn't yet told you himself; you overheard your sisters speaking about it to each other just a few days after their arranged meeting. They were by your door, loud voices carrying and infiltrating your space. You think you were meant to hear it- vain and confident in themselves as they are, you suspect they wanted to rub it in that one of them would marry the prince.

Not that you cared- unbeknownst to them, you already met him yourself, and you’re the one the prince really shows interest in. And his identity shocked you at first, but as you thought about it more, it made sense; his impressive carriage, his elegant attire, the way he carried himself and spoke, why you thought you recognized his family crest- it all clicked.

Given all you've learned about him, what he thinks about the world and what he values, it makes sense that he wouldn't tell you right away, and you don't hold it against him. Going your whole life questioning the motives of others, and perceptively picking up on their dishonesty.. it must be hard. You can't even imagine it.

In turn, Hyunjin can't imagine how hard your own sufferings have been, his heart aching terribly for you whenever you put your sadness to words. There's a strange sort of comfort that comes from it however; your lived experiences being so entirely different, but aligning in just a way that leads you to understand one another.

Still, there were many times that Hyunjin wished the solutions to your problems were easy- that he could just use his authority as prince of the realm to give you your life back. Unfortunately, he thinks his interference would only make things worse for you; wish as he may that he could simply order your step-mother to be kinder to you, there's no way he can do so without great risk to your well-being.

It's frustrating and saddening to realize how little his power can do to help the one he cares most deeply for. There were equally times he wishes he could just take you away from all that hurts you; but until you either agree to wed him, or he becomes king after marrying another, he has no authority over who may or may not reside in the castle.

His greatest hope, of course, is that you'll wish to marry him. He doesn't even want to think about the devastation that will be wrought upon him should you reject him. You like each other, that much is true and plainly obvious, but marriage, especially to someone destined to rule, may not be something you want. And besides that, he's always wanted his marriage to have real affection tied to it- and until he knows definitively where your heart lies, he will be patient.

Though they sound like complaints, Hyunjin actually loves the progression of your relationship. Yes, it saddens him that as things stand now he can't remove you from the source of your pain or change things, but there is an equal amount of good that has come from his experiences climbing to your window.

His heart beats fast and erratic whenever you look at him and smile, your soft, small giggles and sweet laughs make his ears and face burn pleasantly. It doesn't always show, given his natural charisma and learned manners, but you fluster him more than you realize. His brain stutters when you compliment him, his body crawls with goosebumps when you initiate a hug or hold his hand, he unconsciously holds his breath when your face ever comes slightly too close to his own.

Though his father still urges him to bring home a bride sooner rather than later, he has managed to quell his father's worries by describing his affection for you. It's also what allows him to regularly leave the castle to meet you, with Chris himself also attesting to how genuine the prince's infatuation for you is.

And it's moments like this, when you're in his arms and looking up at him with your soft doe eyes and sweet smile that he feels the urge to kiss you the most. Before he can think about it much longer, you're separating from his hold, grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed with a softly spoken, "Shall we?"

It's your routine when he visits to sit or lie in your bed together, talking endlessly until the time comes that he has to depart. Sometimes you fall asleep, in which case he just indulges in the feeling of holding you close, stroking your head until the chirp of birds begins with the start of the sunrise, alerting him it's time to go.

Sometimes talking is too hard, and all you want is to feel him close and let your negative feelings wash away in his hold, and let them be replaced by his warmth. Sometimes you run out of things to say and simply enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence. Oftentimes, Hyunjin just being in your space with you is all you need to be happy. 

There's an unspoken hope there that you share- that someday soon you'll be able to fall asleep together, to wake together, to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, for every moment to be spent with the person that rouses your once dormant heart. There’s still part of you that questions if you can really be loved by someone as good as him, but it’s what you hope for more than you’ve ever hoped for anything.

"Wait-" Hyunjin calls softly as you begin to step towards the bed, and you stop, turning back to look at him with a curious tilt of the head and questioning eyes. He swallows, beginning to lose his nerve as you stare at him. He wants to tell you how badly he wants to kiss you, to ask if it's something you'll allow him, if you crave it as much as he does.

"What is it?" you ask, squeezing his hand when you feel the slight anxious tremble. His face reddens, and he internally curses himself for having such difficulty. He once felt it was entirely unlike him to be reduced to such shyness, but you bring it out of him with just a look. "I just.. uh, well-" he starts, but before he can get much further, you hear a sound from the hallway that makes you jump.

"Shit-" you mutter in a harsh whisper, the sound of a metal object clinking just outside your door. Hyunjin doesn't realize what it is just yet, but the sound is one you can instantly recognize- it's the sound of your step-mother taking the padlock into her hands. You scramble to push Hyunjin in the direction of your bathroom as you hear the lock begin to turn, afterwards standing near your open window as calmly and naturally as you can manage.

Hyunjin doesn't have any time to think about what's happening, or to dwell on the sound he heard outside your door before he hears it start to swing open. All he can do is hide himself behind your bathroom door, and pray that whoever is entering your bedroom has no reason to step inside your bathroom.

Your step-mother enters your room with suspicion clear on her face, looking around the room with narrow eyes and scrunched brows. You take a quick, cautious glance towards your bathroom, relieved to notice that Hyunjin isn't in immediate sight. Thank God, you think; you don't know how she'd react to seeing the prince inside your bedroom, and you don't want to find out.

"Who are you talking to?" she asks, taking a stern step closer to you. You swallow down your nerves the best you can as you prepare yourself to answer- you can't give her any reason to suspect you're lying. "I was talking to the birds," you answer, pointing to where a nest of them rests on the tree nearest to your window.

The family of birds are settling in for sleep now that the sun has sunk, and you hope your step-mother finds it believable enough that you'd talk to them as they ready themselves for bed. Her eyes follow where you point, easily spotting the birds beginning to tuck their heads down, and she scoffs. She could've sworn she heard another voice replying to you but.. that'd be impossible, wouldn't it? Who would even be here talking to you?

Yes, though she hates to admit when she's wrong, she was likely just mistaken. The other voice she thought she heard was likely just you supplementing a conversation you wish you could be having with another person. There were never two people- just you, and the lonely life she inflicts upon you. So she smiles, condescending as ever as she speaks, "Yes, well. I suppose that's all you can do."

Your step-mother takes one more cursory glance around your room before she decides she's satisfied and turns to exit your bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief when she finally steps out the door, and Hyunjin steps out from your bathroom just as the sound of the lock on your bedroom door clicks shut. He recognizes what it is more clearly after hearing the sound of the lock a second time, and his heart sinks at the realization of what that sound means.

"Hyunjin?" you whisper in question as he walks right past you, heading straight for your closed bedroom door. He takes the doorknob in his hand, twists it and pushes the door- and what he feared to be true is immediately confirmed. The door doesn't open, harshly stopped as the lock clanks against the door from the motion of it trying to be opened- you're locked in. Why are you locked in?

When he turns back to you, you say nothing; just look at him with those deeply saddened eyes that twists his heart into knots. "You're.. are you always locked in your room?" he asks, though he dreads the answer- and he suspects he already knows. You feel as if you'll sob if you speak, so you don't- you just nod.

His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach, a complex mix of sadness and rage on your behalf beginning to boil in his veins. He knew your step-mother to be vindictive, vain, materialistic, mean, but this.. It was a cruelty positively unheard of, and he couldn't fathom why anyone would have so much hatred in their heart as to resort to this.

He clenches his fists, takes a breath, tries to quell the intensity of his anger before he steps back to you. Your eyes have fallen to the floor, head hung low, hands balled into fists. Hyunjin softly calls your name once he's returned to your side, and you look up at him, eyes glassy as you blink away the tears that try to form. He wraps his arms around you, pulls you to his chest and hugs you tight.

Your reaction is delayed, the complex whir of emotions dulling your senses, but you eventually return the hug. You hold him the tightest you ever have, your hands gripping and bunching the fabric of his linen shirt. Carefully, Hyunjin leads you to your bed, where he knows you find the most comfort. You crawl into bed as soon as he pulls back the blankets, practically curling into a ball as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Hyunjin lies next to you, pulls the blankets up to your chests once he's settled, holding you once more after you move in closer. You press yourself close to him, curling your limbs around his, clinging to him in a desperate need to stay as close as possible. Head pressed into his chest, he softly strokes your head, whispering comforts to you until he feels your body begin to lose its built tension.

Now more than ever, Hyunjin is firm in his belief that he can't let things stay this way- there has to be some way he can use his power to help you. He doesn't want to walk away after knowing the true depth of all that you suffer, he wouldn't forgive himself if he did. Again, he calls to you softly, and when you look up at him he asks, "Do you want to leave? Get away from here?"

You blink, processing the question and wondering how you should answer. Unfortunately, the answer isn't an entirely simple yes or no. The truth is, you wish you didn't have to; this is your father’s manor, the house you grew up in, and though you've suffered greatly since his passing, you find it hard to let go of the happy memories that came before the tragedy.

Despite that, even if he were still here now, it is true that you'd have to leave eventually; you'd marry someday, and married women always leave their childhood homes behind when they wed. Still, when you think of never seeing the manor again, of never returning to your childhood bedroom or talking again with the maids who helped raise you, you feel impossibly sad.

You wish you didn't feel so tied to your home, but it's hard to let go, even when you know it is what's best for you. Additionally, when you did let your mind wander and think about what sort of life you'd lead if you ran away, you realized you were impossibly scared of the world. You've been locked away for so long that you don't remember the way to the places you once recognized, all your connections have been severed, and getting to the castle city, even if you did remember the way, would take days on foot.

Add the fact that you'd have no money, and no way to prepare food for the trip without getting caught, you never let yourself entertain the thought of running away past the occasional frivolous daydream. Sure, you could climb from your window and leave without getting caught, but you could never convince yourself that it was worth trying.

But now you have someone, don't you? Someone who cares about you, who would help you find your way in the vast world you've been kept away from, someone who doesn't want to sit idly by and let you suffer any longer. All you've done since meeting Hyunjin is hope- and the more you look at him and see how vividly he cares, you think that maybe your hope isn’t misplaced. That maybe the life you’ve always wished for is actually obtainable if only you just try.

"If I leave.. where would I go?" you can't help but ask now that you are entertaining the thought of fleeing from the source of your suffering. Realistically, you know there is no way you can do this without Hyunjin's help, and you're sure he knows this too, but you don't want to ask too much of him. You're thankful to have him to rely on, but you don't want to impose- so it's imperative to you that he offers first, so that you don't feel as if you're burdening him.

"Stay with me," he offers without any hint of hesitation, "even if we never wed, even if you never desire me the way I desire you, stay with me." Hyunjin takes your hands in his, squeezes them in his as he continues, "I promise, you’ll never have to suffer again as long as you are in the castle. Please, leave this place with me.”

Your heart skips and stutters, emotion crawls back up your spine and pricks your skin, hitching your breath. And shit, Hyunjin realizes what he just said- he got ahead of himself, and brought up that he lives in the castle. He wanted to admit the truth of his identity carefully, but now.. well, he supposes if you agreed to leave with him, it would've come out tonight regardless.

Still, he stutters as he tries to explain himself- how it was never intended to be a lie he kept from you. How he doesn't often have the chance to meet people who don't already know his status so when you didn't recognize him, it made him happy. How he enjoyed that you could talk to him without pretense, how refreshing it was to him and how it was exactly what he needed, what he'd been looking for.

You smile, even giggle a bit once he gets really deep into his spiraling ramble of explanations. He stops then, nervously giggling back when you squeeze his hands and tell him to slow down, that you understand him completely. "I knew," you tell him after a moment, "well, not the whole time- I didn't find out until later. But I didn't bring up that I knew because it didn't change anything for me. I never cared that you're the prince. To me, you're just Hyunjin."

God, the relief that spreads through his body at your words- a massive weight has lifted from his shoulders. And the confusion you felt about why someone like him could ever fancy you so much- you feel like you understand more now why he likes you, and it helps ease the burden of your self-doubt. You sit up from the bed, looking down at Hyunjin with a timid, yet eager smile.

"Let's go," you tell him, and he quickly sits up with you, a bright smile of his own plastered on his face. "Right now? You're sure?" he asks, trying (and failing) to hide the excitement in his voice. You nod, and he positively beams, ready to help you with everything you need. You don't have many bags, much less ones suited for travel- so you settle for choosing the largest of them all.

Hyunjin helps you back the things you can't bear to part with; old gifts from your father, sentimental pieces you can't bear to part with, the blanket your mother knitted for you when you were still growing inside- you stuff your bag to the brim with your most precious belongings. It's heavy by the time you're done, and Hyunjin takes it and slings it around his shoulders, promising to treat it with care until it's delivered safely to the carriage. "Are you ready?" he asks after you both approach the window, and you pause, turning around to take one last look at your bedroom.

Once you leave, you'll never be back, and with that comes strange, new and complex feelings. But you think it's more than past time you left this place behind, and made a new place your home- a place where you are free to be happy and to exist without guilt. "I'm ready," you affirm as you turn back to the window, and Hyunjin smiles and nods, giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he lets it go to climb out of your window.

Hyunjin steadies his weight on the trellis, and you lean out of your window to check how far down the ground is- and shit, you might be afraid of heights if the way your stomach drops is any indicator. "I'll wait for you at the bottom," he tells you after noticing the apprehensive look in your eyes, and you nod with an anxious swallow. Hyunjin has done this a million times at this point- you can do it too! No problem!

Of course, Hyunjin makes the climb look effortless, but you suspect you won't have nearly as easy of a time climbing down. Once he's finished his climb, he takes a few steps back to see you clearly when he looks up, smiling at you encouragingly. You take a breath to steel your nerves before you take a cautious step out of your window, carefully finding your footing on the trellis before adding your weight- the same way you saw him do it.

You descend much, much slower than Hyunjin did, impossibly terrified of losing your footing and falling to the dirt below. When you finally reach the bottom, you let out a massive sigh of relief, and Hyunjin pulls you into a hug, beaming as he squeezes you- he's proud of you, you think.

His joy adds to your own, so much so that you can't help but show it. Leaning closer, standing on the tips of your toes, you kiss his cheek- a way to tell him thank you, to show him how much you like him, and to convey how happy you are with him. He blushes ever so slightly as his smile grows, a giddy feeling once again building in his stomach.

"When all this is behind us, and you're safe at the castle with me.. Can I kiss you?" he finds the courage to ask, your face flushing as you smile and nod. "I'll look forward to it," you tell him, and you raise your pinky to him, intending for it to be a promise. With a soft chuckle, he interlocks his pinky with yours, happily solidifying the promise.

"This way," he tells you shortly after, separating your pinkies to take your hand in his, and lead you to where the carriage awaits him down the dirt road, and away from the manor. You take a final glance back at it as you walk with him, whisper goodbyes to all the things you'll miss, to your father most of all.

As the carriage comes into sight, it really sets in how real all of this is- how with this night, your life will become completely different. You wonder how everyone will react when your maids enter your room in the morning and find that you aren't there- part of you is sad you can't bid them goodbye personally, but you hope they'll be happy for you and wish you well.

You hear the coachman call to Hyunjin's attendant as you step closer, informing him with surprise in his voice that he is back earlier than expected- and with you. His attendant, who you know as Chris, and have heard many stories about, steps out of the carriage with an almost bewildered expression. He certainly wasn't expecting this to happen tonight.

Hand in hand, Hyunjin continues to lead you up to the now open door of the carriage, with Chris standing next to it. "Are you..?" he asks tentatively as he looks between you both. Together, romantically, you infer him to mean. "We'll discuss it later," Hyunjin says, turning to offer you his usual warm, reassuring smile before he looks back to his attendant, "for now, I'd like you to formally meet the future princess."

Living in the royal castle is something you never would've believed would ever happen to you, and it became your reality in the strangest of ways. To think that a beautiful man came to your window in the night, that said beautiful man wanted to marry you, and was the prince of the realm of all things.. It was confounding how you ended up here.

There's part of you, that even having known the truth for months, still can't seem to wrap your head around Hyunjin being the prince. You suppose it comes down to knowing something and seeing something being entirely different- because though you knew, you never, until now, saw him in his element, so to speak.

Watching him interact with the world behind your small scope was as enlightening as it was affirming; you saw a new side of him, but it was a side that was still firmly Hyunjin. He was eloquent but opinionated in royal discussions, he was kind and grateful to his workers, he was stern when something needed done, but never cruel or overly demanding- again, all you could think was that he’s perfect.

Was Hyunjin getting ahead of himself when he introduced you to his attendant as the future princess? Maybe. But though you haven't said it aloud, you think you fell for him harder since coming to the castle; and being the princess, while a stressful endeavor that requires you to intensively study politics and speech, will be worth it to stay by his side.

The parts of Hyunjin you've come to love the most are the parts you realized are reserved only for very few to see- the part that is wittier than political discussions will allow, who is secretly a bit dramatic when things don’t go his way, a hopeless romantic who clings to the ideals of literature.

And further beyond even that, are the parts of Hyunjin that are for you, and you alone; where natural charisma melts away into bashful sincerity. Whose soft, affectionately spoken words are said with an equal mix of earnesty and boyish timidity. Whose graceful confidence is intermixed with the subtle complexities of shyness and the seeking of your approval. 

All these aspects combined are what make him so special to you, and you will be forever grateful that after all the suffering you’ve endured, you are allowed to love someone as good as him, and are loved by him in return. And thanks to his help, not only do you live a life you could have only ever dreamed of, but are adjusting quite well to that new life.

Some things are the same, such as having kind maids who helped you settle and attended to your needs, but then there were things that were entirely different from the life you lived before. You have your own attendant now- a sweet boy that Christopher vouched for named Felix, who Hyunjin affirmed you would be able to trust with your life, as he does with his own attendant. And truly, Felix did quickly become someone you felt like you could rely on and trust; oftentimes, he feels more like a best friend than a royal attendant.

Though he makes sure you stay on top of your studies, and fulfill all tasks you need to have done, you can also easily spend hours giggling away about various things- like how Chris is so serious but also a secret softie underneath, about your relationship with Hyunjin, about Felix’s secret crush that he hopes to confess to after preparations for your wedding to Hyunjin are concluded.

It’ll still be some time before that day comes, as apparently the king is sparing no effort in making it an extravagant event to remember- his only son is being wed, after all; it’s worth the kingdom celebrating to the fullest extent possible. You try not to think about the life you left behind, but you often wonder if your step-mother and sisters have connected the dots between your disappearance from the manor, and the announcement of the prince’s wedding.

If not, she’s certain to realize once the day has arrived; because all reputable families of the kingdom are invited, and she never turns down a royal invitation. The offer to rescind their invitations came up, of course, but you declined- because there’s a part of you that sincerely wants this to strike your step-mother in the core of who she is, and make her reflect on herself. And if it doesn’t, well.. You’ll find some satisfaction in seeing her appalled and infuriated that you’re thriving despite her meddling in your life. 

Currently, you and Hyunjin still reside in separate rooms because unwed couples sharing a bed before marriage is deemed inappropriate- not that either of you care; it doesn't stop Hyunjin from sneaking to your room at night, in much the same way he did when you lived back in your father's manor. Sneaking across balconies, quietly climbing over each and every banister until he reaches your room- it's a far cry from the "proper" way a prince is expected to behave, but when it comes to the whims of his heart, he pays no mind to such expectations.

What was once a knock at your window is now a careful tap to the glass of your balcony door, where Hyunjin stands and waits with a shy grin for you to greet him. You never lock the doors, as you're sure he knows- but regardless, he always waits for you to come and let him in yourself. It's just the same tonight- he softly knocks and waits, smiling when he sees you rise from your bed to come to the doors.

"My darling," he greets you sweetly when you open the door, taking your hand and kissing just above the knuckle as he bows to you. You've experienced the greeting what feels like a hundred times over at this point, but it never fails to raise goosebumps on your skin; especially when he looks up at you and smiles before he straightens his back and stands tall once more.

Instead of inviting him inside, you step past the door to stand on the balcony with him, the cool breeze refreshing after having dealt with the heat of the late summer sun prior. He wraps you in his arms, wasting no time in tilting his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. His lips on your always fill you with just as many butterflies as the first time, his hands finding their way to your waist causing you to shiver.

"I've missed you," he breathes against your lips before he kisses you again, and you hum as you return the kiss, wordlessly agreeing with the sentiment. Preparing for the wedding makes you both incredibly busy these days, from dress fittings to studying in your case, and readying to ascend the throne in Hyunjin's.

With hardly any free time to yourselves, this is how Hyunjin ensures he gets the chance to spend at least some time with you. Sneaking over to your room, no matter how exhausted the day has made him, because now that you're in the castle with him, he can't go a single night without seeing you, feeling you, at least just once.

And normally, he would follow such a kiss with conversation- ask about your day, what you did and how you're feeling, what preparations for the wedding were done today, etcetera. But for whatever reason, right now he just wants to keep kissing you, over and over again, for as long as you'll allow him.

Maybe it’s because the last few nights he hardly got to see you for more than a few moments, leading to greater longing. Maybe it’s because the wedding looming closer makes the reality that you’re together feel so much more real- you’re his, and he’s yours, and there’s so much beauty in being in love, in promising that you’ll remain together no matter the years that pass or challenges that come.

Your arms wrap around his neck, your body pressing closer into his, and it’s almost criminal how much that simple of an action makes his head spin. You’re a clingy lover- not that Hyunjin minds by any means; he loves it, in fact. He loves feeling wanted and desired by you, and the way you crave and seek out his touch; the problem, so to speak, is the way his body reacts to your close proximity. It’s.. an indecent reaction- one that he has to do his best to contain, lest he do something improper and act gracelessly.

Still, you tempt him- with doe-eyed looks, pouting lips and gentle caresses to bare skin. He desires you, wants to lay your bare and look upon every inch of your body, to feel you naked beneath his fingertips- but he can’t, not yet. And so instead, he has to make a conscious effort to not linger on such thoughts, to swallow them down until the time is right. But the more time he spends with you, the more difficult a task it becomes; and now, after having gone a handful of days not being able to see him for more than a few passing moments, you cling to him more than usual, making the need inside him impossible to ignore. 

You drive him utterly crazy with a simple touch- and he wonders how much of it is a conscious decision, and how much is executed simply by instinct. Do you realize just how deeply you affect him, or do you act purely on what feels good and right to you? Maybe it’s an equal mix of both- enjoying the effect you have on him, but also thriving in the euphoria that touching him makes you feel.

You haven’t gone much further past passionate kissing and idle, yet purposeful, groping of each other’s bodies, as Hyunjin tries his best to be proper and “follow the rules”- in which having intimate relations whilst unwed is wildly improper, and against everything he’s ever been taught. But when the wind blows your robe partly open, and he sees nothing underneath but your soft white lingerie, he can’t help but recall that such rules have always been pointless to him.

Hyunjin has always followed his heart before considering consequences and what is "right." So, if you're in love, if you want each other more than words, if you know you're going to be wed soon anyways, why should he hold off from following what his heart desires? Nothing about your relationship with one another has ever been conventionally proper, nor followed pre-established rules and notions, so why hold himself to such things now?

Do you think and feel the same as him? He suspects you do, but tonight he intends to find out for sure instead of wasting any further time questioning the depth of your intent, and considering conventional rules above his feelings. His hands squeeze your waist as he turns you both around, pressing your backside against the sturdy balcony banister, the sound of surprise that leaves you muffled by his lips that have still yet to part from yours.

"I want you," he says after pulling away from your lips, though still close enough for you to feel his breath directly on your skin, "more than I fear is allowed." There’s a fear there- that the depth of his longing is entirely one-sided, that the way in which he craves you goes unrequited, that the longing you feel doesn’t go past its current boundary.

Hyunjin rests his forehead against yours, eyes staring straight into yours in a way that makes you feel equal parts vulnerable and warm. "Do you want me too?" he asks carefully, setting aside his nerves and uncertainty, his hands trailing over where the wind tousled your robe and exposed your shoulder.

"Say no, and I'll stop right now. We'll move on as if this never happened until you're ready to discuss it," he continues, hand pausing where the strap of your bra lies, uncovered thanks to your partially fallen robe, "but I need to know- if I am allowed to want you as badly as I do, and if you return these feelings." He watches your reaction attentively, unconsciously holding your breath as he waits for a hopefully favorable response.

You swallow, heart nearly beating out of your chest as you open your mouth to speak, and you're certain that Hyunjin can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin- goosebumps that exist solely because of him, and not at all from the late night chill. "I want you too," you respond, and you can see the way relief and excitement wash over him. A million promises and "thank you"'s linger on his lips, but instead of speaking them aloud, he pours them into his kiss, letting his body do the talking for him.

His hand travels away from your shoulder, down towards your waist, where your robe is held together with a loosely tied ribbon. The anticipation makes you shiver, and when you feel the knot come undone, you pull away to allow him the chance to look at you. It's utterly nerve wracking being this exposed, and you don't feel the least bit confident in yourself- but at the same time, you know how much Hyunjin reveres you, and so you want him to look.

While it's still a struggle to believe all that he sees in you, you know this is something he'll sincerely love. From the very moment your touches started to become more intimate he has craved this sight of you, and you grant him the opportunity to stare as much as he wishes to. You leave him breathless for a moment, and for quite possibly the first time, you watch in real time as something shifts inside of him.

The look in his eyes changes, first from awe as he unconsciously sucked in a breath, to utmost, almost overwhelming desire. He takes you in his arms and lifts you up, and you instinctively cling to him with a surprised squeak. His hands hold you up from under your thighs, and you wrap your legs around him while tightly holding his arms. He places you on the thick banister, and you shiver when the cold iron makes contact with your skin through the thin material of the robe you’re wearing.

He kisses you with fervor, his tongue sliding past your now parted lips. Comfortable with your position and Hyunjin’s strong hold on you, you move your hands from his arms to his face, holding it as you invite his tongue further inside your mouth. One of his hands continues to support you and hold you close to his body, while the other slips your robe further down, until it falls down your arms and pools at your elbows.

Another breeze rolls by, and you shiver once more, this time fully feeling the chill. Your thin, almost sheer lingerie does nothing to hide how hard your nipples have gotten, allowing Hyunjin to see them clearly when he pulls away from your kiss and glances down. He licks his lips as he stares at them, lets his free hand move away from your legs and up to your chest, palming one of your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra.

You gasp when his fingers brush your nipple over the fabric, and Hyunjin drinks in the way your body reacts to the near overwhelming sensation his fingers grant you. Your hands fall back to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as your body squirms. "Does it feel good?" he asks, this time watching your face as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, attentively watching the way your face changes.

Biting your lip and closing your eyes as you nod, your legs instinctively try to close together but are unable to due to his place between them. The soft, near whiny gasps you let out are intoxicatingly sweet, a sound Hyunjin could easily imagine himself becoming addicted to. He kisses you again, lingering on your lips and briefly muffling your whines before he trails down your jaw and to your neck, where he places wet, open mouthed kisses.

His touch makes you hot- so much so that the cool breeze no longer affects you the way it had moments prior, your shuddering coming solely from the way he's making you feel. He slips a hand inside your bra, touching your nipple directly now, the pad of his thumb rubbing over it in rhythmic strokes. He can feel your thighs tremble and squeeze him, still desperately trying to close together, driven by the innate need to seek friction.

You don’t outright say you need more, but your body does more than enough to tell him- and so Hyunjin dips his hand further down, slowly traveling between your bodies, over your stomach until it reaches its destination between your legs. He doesn’t know what to do, really- but he’s nothing if not a romantic at heart, and he lets that guide him onward. Following the romantic fantasies that often played in his head, he brings his lips back to yours, sensually kissing you as he rubs your heat over your panties.

It's so wet- much more than he ever could've anticipated. The fabric, that was already so thin and nearly sheer to begin with, has become almost entirely see through and now sticks to you uncomfortably (though Hyunjin’s hand is proving to be a perfect distraction from the discomfort.) His own fingers become slick even without direct contact, and it excites him as much as it drives his curiosity. What do you taste like? Is it okay for him to find out, or is that too far?

He wants to know, desperately wants to know- “Can I taste you, please?” he asks in a soft, pleading tone; it’s okay if you say no, he’d never question your limits, but fuck, he really wants it. You let out a breathy, eager “yes,” to which he responds with the most breathtaking smile. You watch with bated breath as he begins to trail kisses down your torso, leaving a few lingering touches to your nipples and stomach on his way down.

Hyunjin helps you slide off the banister, hands securely on your hips and guiding you forward, closer to him. He completely kneels down in front of you, presses soft kisses to your inner thighs as he guides one of your legs to rest over his shoulder. You lean back against the banister, your hands holding it for support while his hands rub over the back of your thighs and to your ass. He holds you there, occasionally squeezing, and you can feel him smile against the meat of your thighs when it causes you to squirm in his hold.

You watch his tongue dart out from between his lips, wetting them before he finally brings his face closer to your center, giving you a curious kitten lick over your panties. That alone is enough to make you jolt, and he squeezes you a bit tighter in response, trying to help you stay still while he explores the newly accessible parts of your body.

He can’t think of a single thing he could compare your taste to, but he loves it, an involuntary noise of pleasure rising from his throat. He quickly grows dissatisfied with small, careful licks- he needs more of you on his tongue, needs to taste you directly. But rather than separating from you and wasting precious time getting your panties off you, he decides it's a better idea to simply pull them to the side.

Your balance falters for a moment when he moves his hand away from your behind to shift your panties out of his way, but he’s quick to bring it back and continue to hold you once his tongue has once again met your core. Your grip on the railing tightens, head falling back and eyes fluttering closed as you let out a low moan. You never expected to be experiencing your first time with something like this outside, on your new balcony of all places, but you can't deny that it excites you.

It's fun, exhilarating, almost freeing- something that would've forever eluded you had you not met Hyunjin, and fallen in love with him. And oh, you’ve never felt anything as good as his tongue between your folds. You divert your gaze back down, mesmerized by the sight of him between your quivering thighs, and he too is mesmerized- by your taste, by the way you drip on his tongue, by the way you gasp and cry out when his tongue finds your clit.

He alternates between swirling his tongue around it, and giving you long, flat licks, both of which drive you crazy with need for more. You try your best to not let your noises get past a certain volume, teeth digging into your bottom lip almost painfully, hands desperately clutching at the banister as your body involuntarily trembles. It doesn't take long for Hyunjin to find the pattern you like, what motions cause you to cry the loudest despite your desperate attempts to contain yourself.

Your stomach rapidly tenses and contracts, your moans quickly turning into high-pitched whines as you’re driven closer and closer to release. You’re dizzy, mind practically floating with immense pleasure, your hips unconsciously rolling into his face as you seek sweet, blinding relief. Hyunjin’s cock throbs painfully in his trousers, straining against the fabric that has now grown tight around him, but he ignores it, completely focused on you.

He looks up at you from between your legs, watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you take desperate, panting breaths, sweating clinging to you in an ethereal sheen. You take one of your hands off the banister, instead burying your fingers into Hyunjin’s long hair. He groans against you, unexpectedly enjoying the way you slightly tug on the loose strands.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach grows in intensity, your eyes rolling back as he flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you please. You let go of his hair when you feel your orgasm start to peak to clamp your hand over your mouth, wanting to avoid waking the entirety of the castle with your moans if you can help it.

He squeezes you once more, does his best to hold you upright as you lose yourself to the feeling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, the tingling that starts in your spine spreading throughout your entire body, as mind numbingly euphoric as it is overwhelming. He doesn’t separate from you until he feels your thighs relax and legs go limp, carefully removing your leg from its perch on his shoulder, holding you steady as he rises back up to his feet.

It takes you a moment to return your senses, only just barely registering Hyunjin talking to you as you blink away the fog of pleasure muddling your brain. He’s asking things like if you’re okay and if it felt good, grinning when you nod and answer him with meek affirmations. When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on him, and it somehow adds to just how amazing you feel.

It’s in that moment, where he’s stroking your cheek while kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth and sharing the taste of your release with you, that you decide you want to return the favor. Mirroring what he’s done to you, you let your hands wander his body until they meet the waistband of his trousers, where you slowly undo the buttons. His breath hitches when you sink to your knees, anticipation rising in tandem with his nerves.

Will you like what you see? It’s not something he’s ever worried about before, but now he finds himself awaiting your reaction anxiously. Wanting to spare him the late night chill, you don’t pull his trousers and underwear all the way down, instead just pulling down enough for his cock to spring free of its confines. And, wow- it’s much longer than you expected, as well as mouth-wateringly pretty, the vein running along the length utterly entrancing to you.

Pre-cum leaks steadily from the tip, and you curiously stick out your tongue to taste it as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He hisses and softly gasps, twitching and throbbing in your hand that is so much softer than his own. You quickly move on from small, careful and curious licks to swirling your tongue around the tip, sometimes stopping the movement of your tongue to press wet kisses to it.

His pre-cum smears over the tip and all over your lips thanks to your kisses, and it’s easily the most erotic thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. And God, when you look up at him through your lashes as you kiss him, your pretty lips wet and glistening because of his release- he has to make conscious effort to not let out a visceral groan.

After a few more soft, wet kiss, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue, leaning forward on your knees, using your hand to guide his cock into your eager mouth. His body shudders as he groans, the more you take of him into your mouth, the more he struggles to restrain himself. Hyunjin leans forward, grabs the banister for support while he watches you try to work him in past your limits- taking him in until you gag, retreating just long enough to recover before resuming, trying to take him further than last time with each attempt. 

Tears prick the corners of your mouth, threatening to fall with each additional inch taken down your throat, but you refuse to concede. He brought you such unimaginable bliss- and you’ll do anything to make him feel the same. Just as Hyunjin had done, you proceed purely on instinct, staring up at him as you finally succeed in taking his entire length into your mouth. And fuck, the sight of you- how is he supposed to retain composure after seeing you like this? 

Grip on the railing tightening, his eyes roll back when you start bobbing your head along his length, the sound of his cock sliding back and forth in your mouth creating impossibly salacious wet sounds. Saliva drips from the corners of your mouth, down to your chest and thighs, but you continue on, paying no mind to the mess you're making on yourself.

For the first time, you hear Hyunjin speak with an utter loss of composure- no smooth charisma, no eloquently crafted line of dialogue; just pure, pleasured rambling. "Darling, I can't- feels so good, I-" he cuts himself off with a curse, biting his lip as he feels you caress his throbbing vein with your tongue. He’s never felt so good before, and he’s so close- but what is he supposed to do? Release in your mouth? Is that even okay?

He intends to ask, opening his eyes to look at you as he does, but oh- the sight of you instantly causes the words to die in his throat, the sight of you paired with pleasure he feels is just too much for him. He cums with a moan, loud and pretty, his cum gagging you as it shoots straight down your throat. You pull away seconds later, releasing him from your mouth with a pop, swallowing the cum that lingers on the back of your tongue as you wipe your lips clean with the back of your hand. You look up at him next, taking in the sight of your normally elegant lover looking so debauched. He’s breathless and utterly disheveled, but still so impossibly perfect.

Hyunjin helps you to your feet after he’s collected himself, pulling you into an emotionally charged, sensual kiss; lips parted, tongue seeking yours. He lifts you up once more, deciding that both of you have spent more than enough time on the balcony, continuing to kiss you even as he carries you inside your bedroom. It makes the walk more precarious, but neither of you care, absorbed in one another as you are. And maybe you should feel some amount of shame for having pleasured one another in such an open space, but it’s the furthest thing from your minds. 

All that matters is Hyunjin; how he makes you feel, and how you make him feel. Lying you on your bed as gently as he can manage, he finds his place between your legs as you fall to your back. His hands find the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off your body. Your robe is the next thing to be removed in your flurry of impassioned kisses, followed by your bra, and all of Hyunjin’s clothes. 

“Love you so much, my darling,” he breathes against your skin between his kisses to your lips, hands roaming your body, “want to be inside you.” You pull away enough to see him clearly, your eyes finding his even in the dark of your room. “I want it to,” you admit softly, heat rising to your face, “I love you, Hyunjin.” He smiles, brief and timid, before he kisses you again, slipping one of his hands between your thighs to feel your heat with his fingers.

He rubs his fingers between your folds, and you let out a shuddering breath, body trembling with anticipation. You’re still so wet, and Hyunjin can’t help but involuntarily groan when he imagines what you’ll feel like wrapped around his cock. He takes his cock in his hand, smears your essence along it to get it wet, glancing up at you after he aligns himself with your hole. You look apprehensive, and he’s immediately worried you’ve changed your mind and want him to stop- 

But when he offers, you quickly shake your head. You’re nervous, that much is true, but you want this- everything you experience with Hyunjin is new and beautiful, and you’re certain this will be too. And every time you’ve been hesitant, or scared, or anxious, he was there for you; he held you and listened to you and helped you find not only the courage to be where you are now, but your self-worth too. You love him, you trust him- and what better way to show him the depth of your love and trust, than to offer yourself to him, body and soul. 

With one last affectionate kiss, a softly spoken promise to always take care of you, he begins to slowly push inside you. You both gasp, sensitive from your prior orgasms, the effect profound even before he’s all the way inside. There’s a slight discomfort at first that quickly gives way to tingly pleasure across your body, the sensation effectively stealing the breath from your lungs. Hyunjin clenches his jaw, breath growing more labored, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you even when his body is completely still.

He leans back down to you once your hips are flush together, wraps his arms around you, pressing your body against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, while he holds you under your shoulders, kissing you as he experimentally rolls his hips into yours. Each roll of his hips is slow and purposeful, as is each kiss you share. You understand now, why sex is often referred to as making love- because there can truly be no other way to describe the moment you share, and the feelings that come with it.

When he pulls away and looks down at you, his heart races even faster; you’re so pretty, beautiful- with your hair fanned out around you, the moon shining through your balcony doors highlighting the sheen of sweat in the most ethereal way. All he can think about is how much he loves you, how lucky he is to have you, how good you are to him. You’re perfect, utterly perfect in every conceivable way- and he knows you’d say just the same about him, would still find new ways to compliment him once you ran out of words.

Despite the languid pace, it doesn’t take long for Hyunjin to feel close again- he’s already cum once, and the sensitivity he feels from it in combination with the way your walls squeeze him is impossibly overwhelming. He squeezes you closer, his chest pressed against yours, his face burying its way into your neck. You can tell how close he is, from the way he twitches and throbs inside you, to the way he gasps and moans close to your ear. 

Wanting to cum again with him, you move your dominant hand between your bodies, finding your clit with your fingers. When Hyunjin feels what you’re doing, he separates from you enough to watch, looking between your bodies to watch the way your fingers move. Your walls start to squeeze him tighter as you work yourself close to your release, and he can’t help but groan, hips picking up speed as he chases his orgasm with you. 

Your noises grow louder once he picks up his pace, and you’re sure the guards outside your room have realized what’s happening- but neither of you can bring yourselves to care about containing yourselves anymore. You cum in tandem with one another- Hyunjin first, a strained groan of your name passing his lips as his cum shoots deep inside you, the feeling of it sending you over the edge with him. 

Both of you are breathless and hot, with hearts thumping the hardest they ever have, but he kisses you regardless, paying no mind to his desperate need to catch his breath. He brings one of his hands to your face, caresses it as he kisses you, and still after he pulls away. He looks at you with such pure affection, soft admissions of love and tender care softly spoken for only you to hear. 

Even after he carefully pulls out, he sticks close to your side, holding you close in his arms, refusing to leave you to go back to his own room. This is his place now- with you, listening to your soft breaths and stroking your head as sleep begins to take you. His own eyes quickly grow heavy, your warmth inviting, and he knows he’ll soon fall asleep with you. He whispers his affections, his love for you and how happy he is, knowing that this night is just one of many perfect nights you’ll continue to share in the future. 

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

[hyvyinjie]

CHANCE.

TW! implications of death.

bittersweet! melancholic

t. muichiro x f. reader

graciously requested by @muuumuiiii ! thank you so much for requesting, you sweet lovely lad<3

who would have anticipated it? the mist hashira, of all individuals, displaying a concern that surpassed anyone else's for you—the spirit pillar; a warrior whose technique came at the steep cost of a gradual erosion of your life.

THE MOON; THE BRIGHTEST PEARL SUSPENDED IN OUR VELVET SKY THAT FLOODED THE INKY DARKNESS WITH ITS SILVER GLOW.

a radiant disc it was. casting its ethereal glow upon the shadows of the night, while also heralding the relentless onslaught of a few infamous entities—demons.

a symbol of hope, this pale sentinel embodied a goddess-like presence, standing as a timeless guardian, observing the earth with an unwavering gaze as warriors valiantly battled the monstrous creatures scattered throughout.

above, the luminous orb commanded the vast expanse of stars, illuminating them all. yet, even in this peaceful night, two particular slayers found themselves immersed in the serenity, although one seemed burdened by a more pressing concern, far beyond the tranquility itself.

in a world where such creatures roamed, the perfect harmony would remain elusive.

thus, what purpose did survival serve if death constantly loomed, a persistent visitor at one's very doorstep?

well, the purpose of life is to be happy. or at least, that's what this young man believed.

said boy possessed an acute understanding of this belief, as if it had become ingrained in the very fabric of his being—an awareness that, perhaps, bordered on the excessive.

the sheer ecstasy of savoring every moment of existence, embracing its essence in its entirety, was undeniably a remarkable achievement—a feat that deserved to be celebrated with fervor.

thus, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending—indeed, he never had—how she could nonchalantly dismiss the imminent cessation of her own existence, as if it were a trifling matter. the weight of her disregard for her own life gnawed at him, like a persistent ache that defied understanding.

..then again, had he been any different?

"—and…now you’re spacing out, again.”

ah, the sound of that melodious voice; both longed for and dreaded, resonated within him and snapped him out of his reverie. even though he had incessantly poured out his thoughts to her since he awakened from his coma, with her faithfully by his side, deep in slumber—despite her own exhaustion—she had remained.

as your words echoed in his ears, he shifted his gaze to meet your own—and oh, those eyes.

he would give anything to forever witness his own reflection in the depths of your eyes.

in a mesmerizing dance, your gazes intertwined; an exquisite tapestry woven with delicate threads of connection.

he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnificence of your irises—their majesty akin to rare crystalline treasures, gleaming beneath the majestic canopy of the nocturnal sky.

as a gentle zephyr whispered sweet nothings, its delicate touch caressed their beings, a tender embrace from the invisible hands of nature. he watched, his eyelids descending to a half-closed state, surrendering to the enchanting symphony of the night.

the breeze, like a playful sprite, felt as if it alone, could carry away his worries and sorrows, dispersing them into the velvety darkness.

yet, amidst this reposeful tranquility, a question lingered in the depths of his soul, an enigma that remained elusive and enigmatic.

it was one of the few riddles that continued to elude his grasp, an enigmatic puzzle that defied comprehension, regardless of whether he had regained his former self or not.

why, he pondered ever so deeply, did your well-being hold such profound significance to him?

why did his heart ache with an inexplicable yearning to protect you, to ensure the radiance within you remained untouched by the shadows of the world? it was as if his very purpose revolved around safeguarding your light, shielding it from the encroaching darkness threatening to dim its brilliance.

no, he never intended to diminish your worth in any way.

on the contrary—he understood, with a profound certainty, that you’re fully capable of caring for yourself alone.

yet, despite his awareness, a veil of mystery draped over his consciousness—that of a delicate wisp of mist teasing the boundaries of his understanding. it remained tantalizingly close, yet perpetually out of his reach, an enigma that eluded his grasp.

similarly elusive was the faint, almost imperceptible yet weighty pang in his heart each time his gaze flickered to your bandages that dressed your wounds.

he struggled to fathom its origins, to decipher the emotions that coursed through him with every glance. was it concern, fear, or something different altogether?

of course, he chastised himself for overreacting. after all, you were healing, weren't you?

...right?

at least, that was the relentless mantra he repeated to himself, like a haunting melody, a lullaby of self-deception.

perhaps it was a lie he constructed, a defense mechanism to shield himself from the harsh reality. deep down, he knew all too well that you were pushing yourself to the brink, sacrificing fragments of your own well-being to save countless others from the clutches of death.

how he yearned to tell you—to implore you—to cease using the very essence that slowly, yet inexorably, eroded your own vitality. the desire to shield you from the self-inflicted harm, consumed him.

yet, who was he to stand in your way?

who was he to dictate how you should pursue your purpose—your solemn vow? who had the right to demand that you discard the only technique you knew, as if acquiring a new skill were a trivial matter?

perhaps, for you, it had maybe once been a tangible option—a plausible alternative.

however, it clashed with the very reason why you chose to persist in wielding the power of spirit breathing, despite its unfortunate and devastating toll on your own being.

it was a conundrum that weighed heavily upon his soul, yet another conflict that tugged at the frayed edges of his limited understanding.

then, abruptly—his consciousness snapped back to reality, like a fragile dream shattered by the gentle sweep of a waving hand.

in that instant, the symphony of your voice, a sweet and melodious tune, graced his senses once more, stirring his spirit from its slumber.

"hello? earth to tokito?"

your words danced in the air, adorned with a delicate blend of amusement and genuine concern—whilst he, silently observed your actions. his gaze lingering for a fleeting moment, as if capturing the essence of your graceful movements.

soon enough, his eyes blinked, like a dormant star awakening to illuminate the night sky, as he finally stirred from his reverie.

with a subtle tilt of his head, he emitted a soft hum—a melodic expression that intertwined intrigue and acknowledgment in response to your beckoning. the notes of his hum danced through the air, a secretive melody that conveyed both his curiosity and the recognition of your presence.

meanwhile, you watched him with an internal sigh of relief.

the young man, whom you had believed to be forever lost in the bewitching realm of his perpetual daydreams, had returned to the realm of the present. the transformation within him, from introspective to effervescent, had you spellbound, never failing to leave you even in but a speck of awe, of these rare moments of clarity that graced his being.

"seems like someone's finally awake."

a faint smile blossoming upon your lips, akin to the first delicate bloom of a spring flower. lowering your hand with graceful grace,

you adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position beside him on the edge of the engawa outside the butterfly manor—a perch where you and him had been leisurely spending time together, without a care in the world, rambling on about. relishing in the comfort in one another’s presence—like a normal pair of souls basking in the way of life.

"you’ve been staring at me for quite a while.”

pausing for a breath, you tilted your head—the radiance of your irises blooming with an enchanting glow, as if the secrets of the universe were hidden within their depths.

"what's wrong?"

in the midst of an enchanting moment, a subtle hint of wounded innocence played across your seductive countenance, evoking a mysterious allure.

"do i look that bad?"

your voice, though as mellow and gentle as always, carried an underlying touch of vulnerability.

in an instant, he reacted, tilting his head with a subtle mixture of surprise and denial.

"what? no."

aa he blinked, his words slipped out absent-mindedly, like a whisper from a dreamer's lips.

"far from it, actually."

he confessed, his sincerity palpable.

with a gaze that held a painter's eye for detail, he saw your flaws not as imperfections, but as intricate brush strokes that added depth to the masterpiece of your being. inexplicably, he adored you, to the point where it practically pained him.

and who could blame him? for you were way more than a mere beauty that could be captured in words. you were a tapestry of emotions, a symphony of sensations that defied description.

to him, you are everything.

your brows raised slightly, captivated by his ever-unpredictable nature. truly, like the wind, he embraced the freedom to wander in any direction he pleased.

reminiscent of an owl, you blinked a plenty amount of times, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of his flattery. it seeped into the recesses of your heart, stirring a delicate blend of bashfulness and gratitude.

"then..."

unintentionally mimicking his gestures, as if dancing in synchrony with his spirit, you then asked, avidly yearning to explore the depths of his thoughts.

"mind sharing what's got you so..distant?"

although it was not deemed uncommon for him, of all individuals, to maintain a silent disposition, you possessed a deeper understanding—having witnessed something greater, something more.

despite the mere span of a few days, you stood as a crucial observer to the sudden shift in his demeanor. having been privy to a bewildering yet endearingly interactive side of the boy since his awakening, it became slightly disconcerting to witness him potentially regress into his characteristic, distant, and dazed state.

the memory of those extraordinary moments lingered, and it was disheartening to question whether they were mere illusions or if they held the promise of something genuine.

as of now, the male in question pressed his lips together, creating a slender line as his gaze wandered away from yours, as though searching for a brief respite from reality.

seeing this, you reassured him. carefully observing these subtle occurrences with your keen irises.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

responding with a weary shake of his head and a sigh escaping his lips, his gaze flickered back to you, and as his eyes connected with yours once more, a subtle softness overcame them.

truly breathtaking were his eyes. they possessed a hue reminiscent of emerald, yet they gleamed like the replesdent glow of the moon above.

however, what truly captured your attention was the way his brows furrowed just as the corner of his lips downturned, for internally—a cascade of emotions crashed upon him all at once. moreover, a despairing layer seemed to coat his eyes, a poignant sorrow that caught you off guard.

"i don't like it."

he stated firmly, his words hanging in the air, leaving you perplexed.

your head tilted slightly further, eyes widening as you regarded him with curiosity and intrigue.

in response, he raised a hand to the area where his heart resided, his gaze lowering and narrowing towards the ground beneath you both.

"this feeling..."

his voice carried a weight of uncertainty, gaze delicately shifted back to meet yours—and in that moment, you could have sworn you saw his frown deepen as the hint of sorrow on his features became even more pronounced.

"and knowing you could..."

he trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete his sentence. yet, the unfinished words were enough for you to grasp the essence of his meaning.

your brows upturned, sensing the profound depth of emotions he struggled to express fully through words. you had a hunch that it might be something like this, but witnessing his reaction with such intensity was, without a doubt, enough to evoke a painful ache in anyone's heart.

the desire to comfort him welled up within you, an overwhelming longing to ease his burdens. yet, you couldn't help but question how you could possibly offer reassurance.

would it be by telling a blatant lie about something that was inevitable?

now, that would be nothing short of cruelty, no?

to suggest that you would overcome it would only exacerbate the pain. moreover, you were uncertain how to approach the situation without inadvertently triggering a devastating chain of events in the unavoidable future.

truth be told, if he were anyone else, you might have dismissed the matter with a casual remark, wouldn't you?

but with him, it was different.

you couldn't bring yourself to say so.

unable to find the right words in that moment, your gaze somberly shifted away from his, fixating on a distant point ahead. yet, in a sudden and unexpected instant, you were taken aback as you felt the weight of something new but vaguely familiar resting upon your shoulder—soft strands of supple hair gently brushing against you. along with it came a delicate warmth, enveloping you in an oddly soothing sensation.

"you don't have to say anything."

he quietly uttered, his honeyed voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and reassurance. he simply needed to release his thoughts into the open, to let them be heard, even if it was just a single sentence.

there had been no intention to pressurize or burden you, but rather a desire to be the one offering reassurance while subtly seeking comfort himself.

in a silent plea to convince himself that he wasn't caught in a dream, he gingerly leaned his head against your shoulder, and though was making sure not to add any more damage to your wounds, he did so without a hint of regret.

your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his actions. turning your attention back to him, you found solace in this unspoken gesture of support. that tender gesture conveyed a profound understanding, a connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. it was a silent reassurance; of ones comforting presence for the other, especially in the face of uncertainty.

a sentimental smile graced your features as you felt immense gratitude for his selfless deeds. even in this moment, he made sure you were as comfortable as possible, going above and beyond to provide solace. the warmth of his actions filled you with a deep sense of appreciation and reinforced the unmatched bond between you.

"..thank you,"

you whispered in a hushed breath, your voice carrying the weight of profound appreciation.

though the words seemed simple, they held within them an entire universe of gratitude—a universe that bloomed with vivid colors, dreamlike aspirations, and meaningful connections.

with a delicate grace, you lifted your hand and allowed your fingertips to dance upon the canvas of his raven tresses. each strand, like a silken thread, wove a tapestry of sensations beneath your touch.

the texture was soft and supple, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. as your fingers glided through the ebony strands, you embarked on a journey of intricate care, smoothing out the knots that dared to disrupt the harmony.

in this intimate act, time seemed to suspend, creating a space where the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a transcendent moment. your touch, as mindful as the brushstrokes of an artist, traced a path of tenderness and care. each movement held intention, a pledge to protect and cherish him, ensuring no harm would befall his vulnerable spirit.

It was a silent symphony, where the language of trust and gratitude flowed effortlessly through the whispers of your fingertips.

as you continued this tender ministration, a vibrant tapestry of emotions unfurled within the depths of your heart. gratitude, like a delicate fragrance, mingled with a sense of wonder, weaving a spellbinding combination.

the tenderness you shared painted a tableau, akin to a cherished memory, where hues of warmth, understanding, and appreciation blended harmoniously.

pleased by your touch, a contented hum escaped your companion's lips, his eyes finding solace in the comfortable embrace of closed lids.

a smile, brimming with emotions, blossomed upon his visage, a testament to the profound impact of your presence.

his heart fluttered with a bittersweet ache, caught between the beauty of the present and the uncertainty of the future.

yet, even in the face of daunting odds, a glimmer of hope persisted within him. it discreetly clung to his being, refusing to be extinguished.

it was undeniably a childlike hope, both fragile and resilient; to yearn for the possibility of a miraculous turn of events.

still, muichiro wanted to embrace that chance, to patiently wait for the magic of a future with you.

[ninikrumbs]

Die First

Summary: The incoming battle weighs heavy on your mind. Keeping you awake despite the warm embrace of you recently unsealed boyfriend. One ridiculous thought leads to another, thankfully your boyfriend is there to kiss your tears away.

Tags: Gojo Satoru x reader, f-reader, angst with lots of comfort, fluff, Satoru calls reader a variety of petnames (princess, baby, etc) Gojo likes to nuzzle. establish relationship.

A/N: This is me still trying to cope. Not exactly proofread. Currently looking for credit on the banner, saved it awhile ago.

The moonlight cascades throught the slightly ajarred window, and it softly shines on your shared bed. Summer air flows through the gaps, engulfing the space with much needed coolness from the heat. The sound of crickets filling the air with a sense of tranquility.

It was a beautiful night. Moon full, stars twinkling brightly. You should be asleep yet here you are with your knees to your chest, sitting against the window sill as you stared delicately at your lover sleeping, albeit a bit restlessly. Nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a adorable pout. Most likey due to the lack of your warm form in his arms.

Its makes you chuckle despite your melancholic state. How his body seems to instinctively search for yours despite its unconscious state. You gently ran your hands through his snow white hair, making his expression relax a little.

Your eyes made the mistake of catching the dark blindfold on the night stand making warms thoughts leave you as your mind once again raced to the harsh reality of the Jujutsu society.

19 days. 19 days without him. 19 days of you going over the every worse possible scenario. What if he never gets unsealed? What if he's hurt? What if? What if? What if? Even when you knew he was the strongest and your worries were completely groundless, yet you couldn't help but become irrational when it comes to your blue eyed idiot.

You always prided yourself in being logical and unflappable in the face of danger and uncanny circumstances. But apparently you were a different person when it comes to the matters of the heart.

Even as he sleeps there besides you, so solid and real. Some irrational part of you still thinks that he'll disappear if you blink. Is this what it means to love someone this intesely? Having to live with the knowledge that everyday they have the trigger to break you completely?

Your 3am thoughts are just filled with futures that you want to shield him from.

For instance that Jujutsu society that has always treated him as some sort of weapon, some sort of monster, you doubt they even see him as human. And it scares you to think about the levels they would go through to use him, justifying it to winning a battle with too much bloodshed to ever count as a victory.

And knowing Satoru, he'd likely play his role willingly. Oh so willing to lay down everything for this world, especially when he thinks you're gonna be safe in it. And you both love and hate that about him, his selflessness. Always thinking about others and never himself.

You've seen this happen too many times, you're heard the stories, youve seen the films and you didn't like the ending.

Strongs arms tugged you out of your reverie, as youre quickly pulled into a sturdy chest. He tightened his arms around you possessively, your head placed snugly in crook of his neck. His soft breathing indicates that he was still sleeping, body simply moving on reflex on what he needed.


And it takes everything in you to hold yourself back from fisting his shirt and crying into his neck. Cause if by some twist of cruel fate that this man is cursed to be taken away from you. You would kneel, pray and scream to every God out there to change the curse, that if one of you has to die, you hope you die first.

Suddenly, a thumb wipes a stray tear that you didn't even realize was lining your eyes. A low gravelly voice laced in sleep and confusion made you look up into low lidded eyes.

"What are you talking about, sweets?"

Your eyes widened, you didn't realize you had voiced that last thought outloud. Choosing not to answer, you quickly avoided his questioning gaze.

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Toru."

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead telling you all was well. "I don't mind, pretty. Now tell me whats on your mind."

"I was just rambling nonsense. It was nothing important." You said, smiling sheepishly.

His cerulean eyes narrowed, clearly not believing your lame excuse. He maneuvers you to your back, hovering on top of you, caging you between his sinewy arms.

"I know somethings bothering you. I also wouldn't call talking about dying - nonsense."

You lips parted to say something before you dropped his gaze, ashamed that you gave in to such selfish thoughts.

You bite your lip. "I was just .. thinking."

"About what?"

"Just 3am thoughts, you know I have an overactive imagination." You try to keep your voice light and pleasant, erasing any underlying traces of sadness.

"Then why are you crying?"

His fingers gently grasp your chin to make you look at him. You're breath hitched the moment your eyes met his, shimmering sky blue eyes that somehow has stars twinkling in them, the moon light shining behind him making them look as if their glowing. His eyes were filled with concern and helpless adoration. "You can tell me anything, y'know that, right?"

You nod, facade breaking, "I know."

He grabs one of yours hands and kisses your palm before nuzzling his cheek into it. the sight making your heart clench, such a soft and tender gaze made solely for you. "Especially when your talking about death, though Id rather you don't think about getting hurt. The thought of you getting hurt makes me wanna die."

Though his voice was light, it had an underlying tone of seriousness. He had no idea that it wasnt your mortality that you pondered about the most.

You press your lips together, "Please dont,"

"Don't what?" he asks, tilting his head.

"Talk about you dying.."

His eyebrows raise, ready to start a debate that you were the one who started the topic, but he was cut short when he saw tears lining your eyes again, lips starting to tremble and breathing shaky.

"Oh, baby." He leaned back in his knees, pulling you him and placing you on his lap. Calloused thumbs wiped your tears away, but they seem to endlessly fall down with no sign of stopping.

"Shh, its okay, Im here." He hushed you gently as you practically sobbed and whimpered in his warm embrace. A hand sank into your hair, pulling you into his chest. The other rubbed smoothing circles on you back.

Somehow having him like this, so close, so sturdy and strong, so undeniably alive, tipped you over the edge, your hands fisting the shirt over his back.

You try speak, but the words stumble over each other, your voice still watery. "I just - Im scared - Im - Toruu, I don't dont wanna - your just -"

"Hey, its okay. You don't have to tell me right away. Just breathe, I got ya."

You nodded, as you try to bury yourself deeper into his chest. A little more, you thought , you let yourself be selfish just a little more.

When your sobs turned into small sniffles, Gojo pulled back to look at your tear stricken face. Even then, it amazes him how beautiful you look with puffy watery eyes and a cute red nose.

Warms hands clasped each side of your face, he kissed your wet cheeks before his thumbs caressed soothing circles on them, "Ready to talk to me, princess?"

You nodded sullenly, but you didn't know where to start, so blurted out the first thing that came into your head.

"I..I don't wanna learn how sl-sleep without you.."

Gojos eyes widened a fraction, "Baby, what do you-"

"I don't wanna wake up one night a realize that you're not there anymore!" You sniffled, voice still shaking," I don't wanna go around town trying new sweets on my own."

"You're not going to-"

"I don't wanna live my entire life learning how to live without you in it."

You're chest heaved as you blurted out the last sentence, crystalline tears once again lining your eyes as you desperately tried to stop them from falling.

Gojos eyes softened, heart aching from how utterly heartbroken you looked, like you already knew when he was gonna die. He hated seeing you like this, especially when it was because of him.

Still sitting on his lap, Gojo pressed a kiss on your nose before leaning his forehead against yours, his voice was unwavering and resolute, "And you'll never have to,"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Have some faith in me will ya?" He said, nuzzling your nose, the gesture offering some sort of comfort.

He pulled back, sky blue eyes meeting yours once again, filled with nothing but sincerity and unfiltered love, "From the moment I met you, you had me in the palm of your hand. Then and there I vowed to always protect you, your body, soul and your heart."

He nuzzled your hand with his cheek once more, unable to even spare a minute without your touch. "So believe me when I say that Im not going anywhere."

Your let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. His assurances making you visibly relax, as they temporarily silenced the negative voices at the back of your head, like he always did.

He always called you the light of his life, but in truth he was the light of your life. You hated it though, that you needed to once again burdened him with something so trivial when he was practically Atlas, carrying the world in his shoulders. You were stronger than this, you knew that and he knew that.

Regardless, he never once made you feel like your feelings were not valid, he was always so soft and patient with you, doting on you. God, you felt ridiculous.

"I know, Toru.. Im sorry." Your gaze focused on your fidgeting hands." I do believe in you, with everything in me. Its just that you being sealed and now the culling games, its made my anxious brain go haywire."

"Hey, don't apologise." He scolded softly, "You have every reason to feel anxious. Just tell me right away when you start feeling these things before you bubble over like this. "

You nodded like a scolded child which made chuckle a little.

"I like comforting you, baby -any reason to have you in my arms is a win- but I really don't want you to carry something this heavy alone."

"But, you already have the world on your shoulders, I do-"

"You are my world." He cuts you off, "Theres nothing else that matters to me as much as you do, you have to know that."

You feel your cheeks laced with dry tears heat up at his confession

Slemder fingers tilted your chin up, "Promise you'll tell me next time?"

"I promise,Toru."

"Good girl." He praised, "Now come here."

He pulls you flushed against him once more, one hand on your back while the other gives soft pats on your head. "Feel better?"

You silently nodded.

A moment passed, the steady sound of Satorus heartbeat completely calming you down.

Next thing you know, you croaked out three words, words you've told him a hundred times but somehow this time felt more raw, more profound, and more devout than the last few times. Hoping maybe this time these three simple word can convey the magnitude of what you felt for him.

"I love you, Satoru."

At some point, you felt he like stopped breathing. His arms tightened around you, like you could disappear at any moment. Finally, he answered with a shaky gasp, voice filled with so much emotion, "..God, I love you. Not even the King of Hell himself can stop me from coming home to you."

-----

Epilogue :

You can basically feel Satoru pouting from where he was spooning you from behind.

"Whats wrong?"

His childish pout deepened, "Hmmpf, was sealed for 19 days and your girlfriend loses all faith in you."

"Toru...."

[yaniiiiism]

just fine. -h.hj ✭ !

💥 chapter 2.

if you haven't, be sure to read chapter 1 ✿ before , here !

✧ pairing : hwang hyunjin x fem!reader (maybe not) ͏✧ info : sadfic (hah) , a LOT of angst , melancholy (ofc) , drama , feelings , mature themes , suggestive , bsfs , one sided. ͏✧ personas: uni students ; dancers ; hyunjin does art and dance, reader does dance and songwriting. ͏͏✧ word count : 1.2k ͏✧ warnings : mature themes !

may not be best friends -> lovers

— ☆ 

“Earth to Hyunjin?”

Her voice broke through the soft haze of their conversation, snapping Hyunjin out of his reverie.

His eyes blinked slowly as he turned to her, dropping his pencil onto the sketchpad. 

“What happened after? That newbie who was crushing—”

She rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips twitching, clouding her insides. “He wasn’t crushing on me, Hyunjin. The poor guy just needed notes.”

Hyunjin let out a short laugh, but the sound was tinged with disbelief rather than humour. 

"Right, because guys always ask for notes while staring at you like you’re the last piece of cake on the table." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her intently.

“Plus, you’re so fucking pretty, and talented and all. There’s no way guys haven’t tried hitting on you.”

“Look, even if guys are into me—why does it matter? It's not like I’m interested anyway. What if my heart already belongs to—”

The words slipped out before she could catch them, hanging in the air between them like a fragile truth she hadn't meant to reveal.

Hyunjin’s brow knit together, the teasing curve of his lips faltering as he caught the shift in her tone. "What do you mean, belongs to someone?" he asked, his voice dipped in a gentler shade, almost hesitant, as if he were stepping into fragile terrain.

She swallowed the weight of the unsaid, a burden pressed firmly against her chest, threatening to unravel everything she’d kept so carefully hidden. This was dangerous ground, a precipice she wasn’t sure she dared to approach. 

"I just mean... I’m not really looking for anything right now. You know, too focused on school and stuff."

He leaned back, the playful light in his eyes dimming as something more contemplative took its place. 

He leaned back in his chair, that look settling over his features as he absently sketched with a charcoal pencil, his fingers deftly moving on the blank page. The gentle scratch of the pencil was a soft backdrop to their conversation, a counterpoint to the heaviness in the room. 

"Right, school," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her, betraying a curiosity he couldn’t quite shake. "But if you were looking… there’d be plenty of options. I just don’t get why you haven’t... tried, you know?”

She bit her lip, the words she wanted to say tangling with the ones she knew she should voice. Her eyes flickered to the scattered notes and textbooks on her bed, the very essence of her current life.

"Maybe I’m just waiting for the right person."

His eyes locked onto hers, "And you think you’ll know when you find them?"

The brunette’s heart fluttered painfully, leaping a mile of lost hope, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. She whispered, her voice barely a breath against the charged air.

"Maybe I already have."

The guy’s expression softened, the veneer of teasing slipping away to reveal a vulnerability beneath. He looked down at the sketch in his hands, his fingers hovering over the delicate lines of the drawing. The room seemed to hold its breath, the soft hum of the air and the distant strains of music mingling in a delicate symphony.

But just as swiftly, the moment ebbed away, and he shook his head with a light, almost melancholic laugh. "Well, when you do find that person, you’d better let me know so I can give him a hard time."

She forced a smile, turning her gaze back to her notes with a heavy heart, trying to ignore the ache that had settled deep within her chest. “Right.. definitely.”

Yet, deep down, she knew she never would. Because the truth, as stark and clear as the lines in his sketch, was that he would never see her in that way. 

To him, she would always be the girl who shared his secrets, his dreams, his fears—but never his heart.

As he continued to sketch, lost in the quiet of his art, she remained on her bed, the distance between them feeling as vast as an uncharted sea.

And then it was another weekend. 

The soft thrum of music and laughter filled the air as a party unfolded in the cozy apartment of one of Hyunjin’s friends, Changbin - celebrating his uni grad.

Y/n was pretty close with his friend group, so of course, she was invited.

Didn't mean she wanted to go though. But well- it was a graduation party right? They'd all be celebrating Changbin's freedom from education. Nothing more or less.. right?

Mmm.. but boy was she wrong.

saturday night, 08:01 pm.

The night hummed softly with the pulse of muted conversations, faint music, and the warm buzz of revelry. In the small, dimly lit apartment, the air felt heavy—not just with the scent of summer heat and cheap cologne, but with something more, something unspoken.

But even in the crowd, even with people swirling past her in bursts of conversation and carefree laughter, she felt alone. Worse than alone.

She weaved through the crowd, her smile faint, eyes distant as they wandered—searching, yearning. She could feel the invisible pull, like a thread wrapped tightly around her heart, tugging her gaze toward the corner of the room.

And there, in the far corner, was Hyunjin. And he was not alone.

He leaned casually against the worn leather couch, Seori curled up beside him like they had always belonged together. Their laughter drifted through the air, soft and intimate, like the music was playing only for them. Hyunjin's fingers brushed Seori’s hair out of her face, and the way she smiled up at him made her heart clench painfully.

It was effortless. It was painful.

The girl’s heart ached, the dull throb of it settling low in her chest. She tried to look away, but it was like watching a sunset—beautiful, heartbreaking, inevitable. 

She had always known, deep down, that Hyunjin was slipping away from her. 

Maybe he had never really been hers to lose, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Her fingers traced the rim of the cup she held, absentmindedly. The laughter and chatter around her blurred into a distant hum. 

She felt like a ghost in her own life, a silent observer in a scene she couldn’t even rewrite. Every glance Hyunjin shared with Seori felt like a door closing.

But she wasn’t the only one watching.

— ??

Leaning casually against the wall, his eyes were fixed on her, observing every subtle flicker of her emotions—the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly when she caught sight of Hyunjin and Seori, the faint sadness in her eyes. 

He knew her well enough to recognize the facade of nonchalance she wore so tightly around herself. And it stirred something in him—a mix of frustration, empathy, and the lingering, unspoken affection he had long kept buried.

He clenched his jaw slightly, trying to ignore the resentment bubbling inside him. 

Resentment toward Hyunjin for being so blind, so careless with someone like her. 

It wasn’t that he disliked Seori. 

No, it wasn’t about her at all.

It was about Hyunjin forgetting the girl who had always been there— who had silently, patiently stood by his side, waiting for him to notice. 

But instead, Hyunjin’s world seemed to revolve around someone else now.

author's note !

AHHHHH ANOTHER CHAPTERRRR been 5 days since i posted omg😨 my mid terms are less than 25 days away and i havent started studying yet bye ok i have the next 2 chapters ready in my draft trust🤟 posting the next maybe tmr or today? day after? idk wtv i feel <3 sooo who do you think is 'him' ? 😛 try guessing in the comments and if yr right i might answer u in a msg ;3 also plz lmk if u wanna be in my taglist !! <3 i love teasing people like this omhfjdsn ok muah BYEEE 💋

[fabydoll]

ILLICIT | TEASER. coming soon

ৎ ݁ ۪ ⋅ Ꮚ dilf, cop, taehyung x teenage milf, fem reader

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ sum ৎ ݁ ۪ after the murder of two people so dear to your heart, in front of your own eyes, your left broken and all alone, but who better to make you feel loved and cared for than an officer of the law...

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ starring ৎ ݁ ۪ kim taehyung ⟡ kim jennie ⟡ kim namjoon ⟡ choi tzuyu, ect 𓂅ﾞ

ϑϱ⭒ ݁ cw ৎ ݁ ۪ AU, infidelity ౨ৎ murder ౨ৎ drugs ౨ৎ cheating ౨ৎ power imbalance ౨ৎ underage pregnancy ౨ৎ pregnant sex ౨ৎ cock warming ꒰sorta꒱ ౨ৎ reverse cowgirl ౨ৎ lactating kink ౨ৎ ephebophilia౨ৎ underage sex ౨ৎ illict, illegal relationship ౨ৎ hints to a daddy/daughter kink

Taehyung stood in front of your tattered apartment door, knocking. The acrid smell of a recently smoked and lit cigarette lingered in the air, shoving a muscular, veiny hand into the pocket of his long, heavy dark brown winter coat, eyeing his somber and desolate surroundings that were your apartment complex.

You lived here?

Thinking back on your condition and the fact that you’re only a young teenage girl—a young pregnant teenage girl—a part of him, the fatherly part of him, couldn’t help but feel so sympathetic, empathetic to your situation. You must feel so scared, alone, just like the same broken young girl whose pleas and begging not wanting to go to jail somehow found a way to pull on his heartstrings.

If he was being honest, he should care as much as he did.

But you made him care, so much.

“Miss Y/N, hope I wasn’t bothering you,” Taehyung said, his velvety voice sounding nurturing, fondly looking at your slumbering state, like you were the cutest thing his eyes had ever laid on. You rubbed your doe eyes; you were beyond adorable. “Of course not, Mr. Kim, I was just taking a little after-school nap,” you softly yawned, stretching your tired limbs, looking up at the taller, older man and giving him a sweet sleepy smile.

“I see,” he said, fondly smiling back at you. Mr. Kim was ever so beautiful, especially when he smiled, looking like a gorgeous matinee idol. You could never tell he was in his late thirties; you softly blushed. “Anyways, I came to check on you. Your case worker, Mrs. Choi, informed me that you hadn’t checked up on her calls lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

And see your beautiful smiling face again.

“Oh,” you formed an “oh” with your plump, plush pink lips as Taehyung tried his best to avoid looking at, you’re blooming and blossoming cleavage that your oversized low-cut t-shirt offered a tantalizing view of. “I must have dozed off; being pregnant can be so trying sometimes,” you hummed, daintily placing a hand on your 4-week-old tummy bump. Taehyung softly nodded, eyes on your tummy “I image it would be hard.”

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, for what seemed like eternity, just gazing into each other’s starry eyes, like you were in reverie, daydreaming, waiting, albeit nervously, for the other to make a move. Taehyung awkwardly cleared his throat, breaking the moment as he began, “Um, do you maybe want to go out for a walk together?” You blushed again but nodded, smiling.

“I would love to.”

꒰ 8:12 pm ₊˚⊹ᰔ ── apricity 𝜗𝜚

It was a chilly evening with crystal clear snowflakes falling from the heavens, daintily snowing down onto you two as you walked side by side, hands softly brushing against one another every now and then as you strolled around the neighborhood, which was covered in snow, looking like a gloomy but beautifully melancholic winter wonderland.

It was peaceful and calming; the two of you just strolled around. Taehyung reached into his pockets, taking out his thick leather gloves and slipping his equally thick and large hands in, as well as lighting up a cigar.

You watched him almost hypnotically, Taehyung feeling your curious and innocent gaze just deeply chuckled as he took a drag. “You wanna try some?” he called out, a chilly smoke-filled fog airing out as he offered it to you. You coughed and hesitantly took it.

You took the itsy bitsy, tiny drag you could possibly take before passing it back to him, as you started to air out cute little puffs of air, a fond chuckle ringing in your ear. Taehyung took it from your small hands and took another long drag. “So how’s school? Heard you were in your last year of high school.” You gently hummed, “Yeah, it's going fine. I actually just started my senior year.”

“Hmm”

“Yeah, I was pretty excited about it too, until you know,” you looked down at your pregnant belly. Sighing, you gave your tummy little gentle, soft rub as you continued in much softer tone “I never expected to get pregnant at such a young age, you know? I had my whole life ahead of me, I had dreams and hopes, but then again maybe it happened for reason, a reason that I sometimes believe was so I could still have someone by my side, like an angel looking after me, now that I'm. . . all alone.”

You tried your best to suppress the tears that threatened to cascade down your pale, rosy, ruby red cheeks. Taehyung frowned seeing you cry, it hurt for an odd reason he couldn’t quite fully explain, you still managed to look so breathtakingly beautiful, Taehyung pulled you closer laying his head on top of yours, a strong, muscular arm around your small shoulders. As he rocked you back and forth, like a loving father trying to coo their crying child, comforting you with nothing more but soft, warm words in a deep mellifluous, euphonious tone, his words as sweet and as warm as a hot cup of cocoa.

The snow continued to fall on both of you, as you were wrapped, engulfed in, Taehyung’s warm embrace your tears slipping down your cheeks and socking into Taehyung’s coat, his sweet-smelling cologne and strawberry scent, somehow calming and soothing you, as Taehyung gentle let go, he entwined his lager hands with your smaller. You two just stood there for a moment hands twinned together, it was quite picturesque scene with beautiful snowy backdrop.

“You wanna go out for some hot cocoa? My treat” he cooed, a hand pushing back a strand of your hair out of your angelic tear-stricken face.

“It would my pleasure.” You sniffed, smiling warmly up at him.

𝜗℘ㅤׁㅤ. . taglist . . . @taevestr, @tan-veee, @nm4565natty

꒰ ၇୧ ⠀ᅟ𓈒⠀note, if you want to be added to the taglist you must comment ⠀⠀⁺ ꒱

[elizaleclerc]

How I love your writing so much! 😭 I saw that you are taking requests / ideas so maybe something of Charles x famous singer reader where they break up and everyone kinda thinks he broke up with reader or it was just a mutual breakup but then reader comes out with a song similar to midnight rain by Taylor swift and ppl piece the pieces together + the lyrics and kinda realize that Charles proposed and reader said no. Just something angsty and with Charles and reader they tried remaining friends but obvi are still in love with reader just isn’t ready for such a commitment. Thank you and love u 😭

tysm for this amazing request xoxo

float in your orbit 🪐

charles leclerc x reader

summary: famous fem singer!reader releases music about her surprising breakup with long term partner charles leclerc

songs: i can do it with a broken heart by t.swift , this is me trying by t.swift , wildflower by b.eilish , champagne problems by t.swift , chloe or sam or sophia or marcus by t.swift :)

author's note: ahhhh my first request!!!! the topic is right up my alley i love love love it. hope u love it too <3 plenty of angst ahead for u x

word count: 2k

With a heavy heart, your fingers traced the same piano note over and over again. The sound was monotonous, a stark contrast to the busy and lively world of your recent world tour. Now, back in your New York City apartment, life seemed dull and uneventful. It was even more glum now that you were alone, with no one to share your thoughts and experiences with.

You sat hunched over the piano, staring at the black and white keys in front of you. Your eyes had a distant glare, as if lost in a deep and melancholic reverie. The city sounds outside seemed muted and far away, as your mind was stuck on pause. Every memory felt like it was on repeat, playing over and over again.

In this moment of isolation, all you could do was sit and reflect on the ups and downs of your career, the highs and lows of fame. The emptiness inside seemed to grow with each passing moment, until it consumed your whole being. You were trapped in a bubble of loneliness, yearning for human connection but unable to break free from the walls surrounding you.

Charles had been your partner for five years. When you were first rising to stardom in the music world, you received an invitation to perform the national anthem at a prestigious Formula One race. As you stood on the track, your heart pounding with nerves and excitement, you caught sight of Charles, one of the esteemed drivers. The connection between you was immediate, a spark of recognition and attraction that lit up the air around you like fireworks. In that moment, you knew that love at first sight wasn't just an empty phrase, but a tangible reality. You could feel it deep within your bones, a warmth spreading through your body that told you this was meant to be.

A deep ache, like a heavy weight, settled in your chest as silent tears fell down your cheek. The emotions swirled and collided inside of you - sadness, hurt, anger, and betrayal all jostling for dominance. Despite both of your chaotic schedules, especially with your tour this year, you had always made sure to prioritize spending time together whenever possible. But during the last month of your tour is when things fell apart.

It was like a sudden storm had swept in, tearing down everything you thought was stable and secure. At first, it was hard to even process what was happening. The shock and confusion were overwhelming, making it difficult to make sense of the situation. But as time passed, the anger and betrayal only grew stronger, raging like a wildfire inside of you. You released a new song two weeks after the split, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart. 

The media went into a frenzy. Fans from both you and Charles speculated on the recent events, but the lyrics in the song were simple and undeniable - Charles had ended things with you. You couldn't help but worry about the hate he must've been receiving, especially since the two of you hadn't spoken since the night everything fell apart. And to add onto the chaos, you still had a tour to finish, forcing a smile and putting on a brave face for the fans that had no idea of the turmoil within.

Being on tour was a necessary distraction, a way to keep your mind off of things. Yet as you lay in yet another unfamiliar hotel room, the same thoughts still haunted you. The rooms all looked different, but they were all characterized by the same sterile and impersonal feeling. The only thing that used to make them feel like home was the sound of Charles' voice on the phone. You would talk for hours, often until you drifted off to sleep, so even though you were physically alone, you never felt truly lonely.

Despite releasing a new single, the public still didn't have the full story of what happened between the two of you, and why you had broken up. With Charles choosing to remain silent in the media, you were left to navigate through it all on your own. It was a daunting task, trying to piece together your relationship and figure out where it went wrong without any input from him. But you refused to let his silence define your story.

Throughout your life, anxiety had been a constant shadow, lurking around every corner and following you wherever you went. It wasn't until a year ago that you finally sought help and medication for it. During this time of struggle, Charles was your unwavering rock, always there to hold you up and support you. Relationships in general were uncharted territory for you when you first met Charles, and the unknown of it all scared you most.

But as the months went by, he became your confidant, someone with whom you could share your deepest worries and fears during those late night conversations. He would listen with patience and understanding, easing your anxieties with his calm presence.

Yet when fate intervened and pushed him away from you, he was not as accommodating as you had hoped. You couldn't blame him entirely, but the void left by his absence consumed you more with each passing day. In an attempt to express all that you felt and lost, you turned to your songs as a means of communication – letting the lyrics speak for your heartache and longing.

In your next release, an EP of four songs would be put out into the world, the lyrics explaining everything. In the week after the release, fans had put all of the pieces of the puzzle together. You spent the hours scouring social media reading the analysis of your relationship, all of it correct but nevertheless heartbreaking. 

~

One particular post analyzed the meaning of the four songs perfectly:

this is me trying: This song is the beginning of the end. Y/N is clearly struggling mentally and is pleading to be understood that they are simply doing the best that they can do. It is a desperate call for affection and is riddled with self doubt. After such a long relationship, Charles could have begun to crack, and Y/N is trying to keep it all together. 

wildflower: This is clearly about Charles’s past girlfriend. He dated her for many years, and was speculated to be one of Y/N’s friends. The lyrics depict her struggling to get past the thought that Charles is actually over his old girlfriend, and she feels terrible about “betraying” her to date Charles. Further in the song the lyrics showcase that Charles clearly loves Y/N, but again her internal battle prohibits her from seeing the truth in their relationship as things seem to break further. 

champagne problems: This is the breaking point. Shocking to fans everywhere, this song reveals that Charles proposed to Y/N, but due to her already detailed mental struggles and anxieties, the commitment was too much for her to bear. The melody and lyrics are filled with regret and a tinge of shame for not being able to commit to Charles, no matter how much she loved him and vice versa. 

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: The aftermath of it all, she details that even though she cannot commit to marriage with Charles she still loves him deeply and wishes that they could still be together. This caused fans to piece together that after she said no to the proposal, Charles ultimately cut things off.

~

With misty eyes, you read the post that brought back a flood of memories. The night he proposed in Monaco, the city where your love had blossomed and thrived, was etched in your mind with crystal clarity. In your shared apartment, tucked away from the bustling streets, the two of you had a private and intimate dinner that would change your lives forever. Warm flickering candles cast a soft glow over the dining room, while rose petals adorned the table and floor.

Despite being in the comfort of your own home, you both dressed to impress, savoring this rare moment when it was just the two of you. "You look absolutely stunning, mon chéri," he whispered as he gazed at you with adoration, making you feel like the most special woman on Earth. Every detail of that night was ingrained in your heart and soul, a cherished memory that would never fade.

Your hand rested on the white tablecloth, and he gently placed his on top. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through your body. "Thank you, love," you murmured before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand. As the night went on, you caught up on each other's lives - him excitedly sharing about his latest Formula One race while you reminisced about your past tour experiences. But as the dinner neared its end, you noticed his fidgeting and asked him if he was okay. Suddenly, he stood up from his chair and sunk down on one knee next to you. Your heart skipped a beat, and everything seemed to slow down as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

“Mon amour, I don’t want to spend another day without calling you my wife. You’re the most important thing in my life, and I want to spend the rest of it loving you and giving you the world. Will you marry me?” 

Your throat constricted as sweat formed on your palms. The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen - not here, not now. Marriage was never a topic of conversation between you and Charles, but suddenly it felt like an inevitable future staring you in the face at this dinner table. You weren't ready for this.

“I don’t- I can’t-” 

~

Your fingers moved deftly across the ivory keys of your piano, playing the familiar beginning chords of "Champagne Problems." Tears continued to fall down your cheeks, leaving glistening trails in their wake. Memories flooded your mind as you played, memories of a love once strong and unbreakable.

But now, as you sat alone in the dimly lit room, you couldn't help but feel the weight of that love slipping away. You missed him with every fiber of your being. You yearned for his cheeky smile and the way his crystal eyes sparkled when he looked at you. The memory of his messy bed head first thing in the morning made you ache with longing.

The thought of living without him was unbearable. You longed for his laughter, how he would throw his head back and let out a hearty sound that always filled you with joy. You could almost see his nose crinkle in amusement at a bad joke, just as it always did.

And oh, how you missed those moments when he would wear his glasses, simply because he knew how much you loved the way he looked in them. You could picture him now, standing before you with that charming grin and those frames perched on his nose.

But now they were only memories, and you were left to play out this heartache through the melody of your piano.

The realization hit like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you. You couldn't fathom the idea of moving on from this moment, it was too pivotal, too raw. With a sudden surge of energy, you leapt up from your seat at the piano and frantically searched for your phone among the scattered sheet music and empty coffee cups. Your fingers flew over the keys as you dialed the number you knew by heart, each digit a familiar melody in your mind.

One ring, and he picked up.

[dumplingtrait]

oh my goshness guys i hit 300 followers !!

thank you so so much, it doesnt feel like that long ago that i joined simblr and i've met so many amazing simmers already !! i cant believe that super talented people who inspired me during my lurking days are now my mutuals ?? crazy.

as a thank you, i'd like to share my pretty office lady nora with you ! i have included her work outfits as her everyday outfits, everything else is up to you !

if you want her to look exactly like this, i use @elysiantrait's melancholic reverie default eyes and @lamatisse's bare skintones !

download 🥟

credits to all these amazing creators ! @sims3melancholic @faaeish @okruee @pralinesims @helgatisha @poyopoyosim @northernsiberiawinds @rheallsim @jius-sims @elliesimple @obscurus-sims @simandy @christopher67 @cosimetic @nesurii @tamo-sim @rimings @serenity-cc @sammi-xox @liliili-sims @bloodland @gorillax3-cc @luumia

oh and if u do use her in ur game, pls tag me ! i'd love to see what she gets up to 👀

[naoristerling]

Hyunjin fic rec

Love Letters to Who | 4.9k @skz317cb97

Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?

Reverie, (18+) | 18.9k @changbunnies

Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.

ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin. | 25k @starlostseungmin

Hyunjin assassino

a lullaby on his throat | 67.8k @straywrds

a demigod is sent to the mortal plane by his god of a father as a punishment

I can hear the siren | 25k @moonlinos

To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

Off-limits | 15,4k @hwangism143 irmão de best

hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

Hell Above | k @kim-miyeon

Seven Generations. That’s how long the Lee Family has operated their family business and have held their place as the “most powerful family organization the world had ever seen.” The next heir of the Hwang Family, the pawn of my grandfather’s game, my natural born enemy..

…and my beloved husband.

Allegedly, of course.

• Félix fanfic

Why does It Hurt ?

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏]

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: Larissa was compelled to use her annual leave to take care of her nieces for five days; what she wasn’t expecting was that an unnecessarily attractive baby-sitter would be accompanying her as well. 

a/n: The Bouchards are original characters.

warning/s: none for this chapter.

Next part >>

Sunday afternoon, the Bouchard’s family car halted in their driveway, a woman in her early forties exited from the passenger’s side as the kids—Tory and Laura, came bolting out of the door and running toward the woman, engulfing her thighs with their dainty, but strong arms. Enamoured, the woman kissed their foreheads, gently stroking their backs with her soft-looking palms.

Mr. Bouchard—or Adam, as he insistently told you to call him, hauled two suitcases from the trunk, both were no less elegant as the tall woman who exudes a promising character, with the finest, breath-taking, blue eyes. The gods had been so kind to her.

The children peeled themselves off of her as per their mother's request to let the woman breathe, which then was dismissed by the woman with a wave of her hand and let the children pamper her with delightful hugs. They surely loved her.

Bewitched, you couldn’t help but wonder in between Mr and Mrs Bouchard, was the one related to the woman. It was hard to gamble, none of them had any resemblance with her, not with the nose, not the eyes—they all had brown eyes and all brunettes…

Registering Mrs Bouchard’s voice, you snapped from reverie that caught you, “Yes?” she beckoned you to her side. With the little amount of time you took your eyes off her, you were surprised to see the woman was already by the door with the kids clinging on both of her sides, offering a pleasant smile.

Mrs Bouchard took the courtesy and introduced you to the other woman and vice versa. After exchanging pleasantries you offered to take her coat.

“It’s okay. Here, let me help.” Truly, your motive was to innocently help her discard the coat. However, you were attacked at the moment of weakness when the expanse of pale, supple skin made an impression on your eyes. Your mouth gaped at the appetizing sight. She wore a green sleeveless dress, flaunting a good amount of skin that your eyes drink fairly well.

Larissa, who was very much aware of your lingering gaze, cleared her throat and handed her coat over, “Thank you,” and you dismissed yourself, taking her coat, which you secretly inhaled as it was rich with her scent. And your heart clenched in response to the smell. It was new to your nose, smelling of fresh cut flowers and vanilla, with some hint of peach…

While the family started to welcome their guest, you busied yourself tidying the toys the children had played with prior to their Aunt’s arrival. From time to time, your eyes would wander, seeking for the silver-haired woman, it was a challenge not to, her presence seemed to demand attention, your attention specifically.

As an unfamiliar flutter called for your attention, your cheeks consequently warmed. You hadn’t been this engrossed over a person in so long, and while it appeared to be exciting, it also felt melancholic. A woman of her age would certainly not bat an eye at you, you looked young, inexperienced, out of her league. It was never going to work out.

Later, while the children were keeping their Aunt occupied, the wife and husband went about every nook and cranny of their house, checking what else they have missed for their four day vacation in the Bahamas and you watched them dizzily as you munched your sandwich in the breakfast nook.

Panting, Renata Bouchard stopped by, steadying herself by the table, her other hand squeezing your freehand, “Thank you. Thank you so much for doing this at the last minute. I owe my life to you.”

A soft, sincere smile appeared on your lips, “It’s no big deal. I love watching your kids.” And watching their aunt…

Renata couldn’t help herself but pull you into a hug. It was awkward but no less genuine.

“Honey! It’s five! We have to go! We don’t want to miss our plane!” Mr Bouchard yelled somewhere in the house.

“Will you fetch the kids and Larissa, sweetheart?”

-

While the parents struggled with goodbyes, it was also evident that they couldn’t wait and get in the damned car and leave.

When the car disappeared from your eye-line, the kids had long gone and retreated to their own rooms doing God-knows-what that was keeping them entertained. 

A voice bloomed in the background.

“Do you really not speak much?” Larissa spoke with a playful bite in her tone, arching her sculpted brow.

In surprise, your body jolted. You had thought she went inside as well.

“You have seem to render me speechless is all”

“Goodness, tell me it isn’t because I intimidate you, dear.”

You gave her a smile with sheer confidence to deceive her into thinking you weren’t burning with desire and said, “No, not at all, Ms Weems.” As if.

You didn’t know how you broke the eye contact, but you did and walked past her, aiming straight for the kitchen with your poor heart beating so fast. And without another word, you started making dinner.

She didn’t follow. Thank God. But as the pasta boiled and the sauce and meatballs were nearly cooked, Larissa appeared. Before the smile that was quite fixated there already, get you distracted, you shield your eyes away and focus on steering the sauce.

“That smells delicious.” Larissa was standing right behind you now, hovering, if she ever so desired to lean her body forward, her front would have touched yours and your body would have burned from the contact. Lucky you she maintained a tiny space, perfect to torture you.

With clenched jaw, you turn, carefully so as you were mindful of how thin the gap was between the two of you. She looked down at you, “Do you mind?” She wanted to taste it.

“Please, help yourself.” Expecting her to grab a spoon from the drawer, Larissa decidedly not to and just wrapped her hand around yours to lift the wooden spoon and guide it to her mouth catching you off guard. She blew a couple times before tasting the red sauce and licked her lips.

Larisa made a sound, making it known that she liked it, “This might be the best spaghetti sauce I’ve ever tasted in a while.”

You felt her withdraw her hand, and you intently watched it settle on the blade of your shoulder, her thumb affectionately stroking over the skin where the hem of the sleeve just ended.

“T-thank you.”

She smiled one last time—although if you stared longer you would have convinced yourself it was a smirk—before leaving the kitchen, and said something about getting the kids ready for dinner.

A long exhale escaped your lips, your shoulders sagging, unaware of how tensed they were until now. You took a pause, supporting yourself as you grip on the edge of the counter, trying to collect yourself as much. She took a lot from you, the very little time she had you practically trapped between the stove and her body, had drained you.

Your gaze fell on your right hand, the skin still tingled from her touch. Did she know what she was doing to you? Was it deliberate? Because if so, you were willing to play with her, whatever game it was in her head, you would dutifully play the part she wanted you to even if it included acting dumb.

Dinner went civil. The girls enjoyed the spaghetti and meatballs without a fuss. You kept yourself collected. She kept her tricks all to herself. Every once in a while, you two would eye each other and just harmlessly smile, trying to see which of you would break first. It was a fun night.

After Larissa guided both twins to clean their hands, Laura spoke, “Auntie, can you read to us before we sleep?”

From the sink you watched her crouched to their level, “Anything for my munchinks,” Something about the woman’s lively, blue eyes made you wish they were looking at you with the same dose of affection she was giving the siblings, her red lips curving into a smile. Your heart almost ached for some bit of her warmth.

The adoration only strengthened at this point, and you knew it would only fiercely grow each and every time she would show off her billion-dollar smile.

You watched the trio disappear in the twins’ bedroom, you chose to stay behind despite the ridiculous longing you felt, giving them the time to bond with each other as it was crucial for Larissa’s first night with the kids and you weren’t going to take that away from her. You didn’t want to be on her bad side.

-

It was still early in the night, only ten minutes past nine and the twins were already asleep without any commotion at all. When Larissa returned with a proud gleam in her eyes, sauntered toward the kitchen to rummaged for some liquid courage, hoping it would spark a nice chat with you. And that was when her eyes found a note on the counter.

“Be right back. Just getting some stuff next door.” It read. The corners of her mouth twitched upward.

When Renata divulged the piece of information to her that you would be staying to help her around with the children before they left, she was more elated with the idea than the other woman anticipated. You looked like a nice companion, although you weren’t entirely there for her own benefit, but still having another grown up around would make this whole experience less nerve-wrecking.

And she nearly cursed when her eyes landed on what she described as an unnecessarily attractive baby-sitter and a very intriguing one at that.

-

Earlier when the kids’ father was pacing around the house looking for his damn keys, Renata told you he was supposed to have already left half an hour ago to the airport to pick up the kids’ aunt. You didn’t know why you expected an old, mean lady, hunched with greying hair wearing a dress and a cardigan combo. Perhaps the way he sweat and paced like he was losing his balls made you think that.

And then surprise, bomb drop, it was a stunning woman with gorgeous red lips. A woman who was dizzyingly attractive with an impressive stature, her elegance called for attention, and it effortlessly captured yours. Fucking hell, Renata absolutely skipped that part.

When your overnight backpack was ready, you left the house, lip worrying between your teeth and hands in your pockets.

The front door opened, Larissa was already settled, sitting on the long couch with her long legs crossed, they were clad in her skin toned tights, you noticed. Her feet were freed from her heels and curling from the cold of the night. She was much more relaxed, more approachable and casual.

“There you are, come and join me, sweetheart.”

Her gaze danced around your legs, finding it hard to keep her eyes off of the skin that your shorts were flaunting. It was a riveting sight. But she urged herself to gather some decency and look away.

The soft glow of the lamps hid the blush on your cheeks quite well. You sat opposite her, “Let me pour you some.” She had a smile curling on her lips.

“So, tell me about yourself, dear. What do you do when you’re not babysitting my nieces?”

“I’m a part time college instructor. I work on Tuesdays and Fridays and sometimes I cover for other professors.” So you were a teacher…

She handed you the glass, you gladly accepted. It causes your fingers to brush against each other.

“Fascinating…and what do you teach?

“Philosophy.” A beat of silence.

Larissa shifted in her seat, somehow it caused her dress to bunch up, giving more sight of her thighs. She cleared her throat, “So, are you married? What’s the deal with you? I can’t seem to read you.”

It made you flushed. “I’ve no husband.” She arched her brows, unbelieving. “A boyfriend perhaps?”

You shook your head. The tension only thickened. “No men.” Larissa knew what you were trying to point out. With a satisfied hum, you saw a fleeting smirk on her lips before she drank the remaining of her wine.

From the visible curiosity in your eyes Larissa tilted her head to the side and said: “What is it you want to ask?”

It prompted your eyes to look into her piercing gaze, “How about you?” pertaining to her status.

“Married.” You felt your finger grow cold right then, breath caught in your throat. “To my job.” She finished.

If you were right, and listened very well, this person here was an esteemed Principal of an outcast academy in Vermont. It all made sense with her posture, the authority in her voice, and her allure—which you were yet to find out if it was because she was an outcast herself or it was naturally all her.

And suddenly, you thought what kind of an outcast she was, but you decided against asking, feeling you’d be imposing.

When silence befallen, you took it as a cue to speak your mind about something that had been worrying since having been left alone with the woman, “I hope you are not offended by my presence. I’m not sure what you were expecting but I’m sure as hell I was not included in the picture yet here I am.”

“Oh no, not at all. Actually it’s quite the contrary. I’m absolutely delighted to have extra hands to help with the kids as I am no mother myself.”

You pressed yourself further into the seat and muttered: “I’m pleased to hear that.” Pleased to which part exactly?

Many glasses later, your eyes could finally roam around without shame, and you started saying things like, “You’re so beautiful.” But mostly they were whispers you meant to keep only to yourself but she heard of them and blushed in response to your kind affection. And you were aware of the unconcealed looks she gave.

So maybe if you tell her now that you find her fascinating and attractive, she would smile at you and tell you she liked you, ending whatever the on-going game was. And then your eyes would linger to her lips, she would ask if she could kiss you and you would nod with trembling urgency to feel her mouth. She would then close the gap and you would be kissing under moonlit night, the bottle of wine forgotten in the coffee table.

The whole idea of it was so tempting. But it wasn’t easy to do. Not even when you were wine drunk.

Now you felt like you were fooling yourself. “It’s getting late, I should go.”

You got up, smoothing your clammy palms over the denim that clung to your thighs. “If you need anything, the room I’ll be staying in is only next to yours.”

Larissa wanted to bid you a good night kiss, so she attempted to stand up but suddenly felt unsteady on her feet, “Oh, careful.” Your body moved close, ready to catch her if she were to lose balance.

Now, you couldn’t leave this woman alone here, could you? “I think I should take you to your bed first.”

She hummed, agreeing to your proposal. Larissa was a silent drunk, she only hummed and nodded, considerably cooperative, too. You got back with a full glass of water and a tablet so she could take care of her headache in the morning.

It felt like hours of being rooted on the floor, on stand-by in case she needed anything more, and then you finally snapped, concluding that Larissa had quietly fallen asleep.

Much to your dismay, there was no accidental kissing that happened.   

“Good night, Larissa.” You finally said, and walked away.  

[domm1etae]

Waves of Truth

yunho x mingi

smut | mdni

2.7k

By the pool, Yunho and Mingi finally face their feelings and realize how much they mean to each other

nsfw tags under

m/m, top yunho, bottom mingi, friends to lovers, anal sex, unprotected sex, pool sex, semi public sex, feelings, make out, dirty talk

Yunho sat by the pool’s edge, the water gently lapping at his feet, feeling the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him. Tonight was supposed to be the culmination of years of hidden feelings, but now, faced with Mingi’s sudden approach, Yunho’s resolve was faltering. His heart ached as he thought about how he’d failed to voice his emotions, despite knowing it was his last chance before moving to a new city to start college.

The sound of the party inside was distant, muffled by the walls and the weight of his own anxiety. The laughter and music that had once seemed so inviting now felt oppressive, like a reminder of the connections he was about to leave behind. Yunho’s melancholic smile betrayed his inner turmoil as he stared into the water, the gentle ripples reflecting his restless state of mind.

“Hyung.”

The familiar voice cut through Yunho’s reverie, making him stiffen. He didn’t need to look to know it was Mingi; the tone was unmistakable, laced with an emotion Yunho couldn’t quite place. The way Mingi said “hyung” was a mix of affection and something else—something heavier, more complicated.

“Mingi.” Yunho’s voice was soft, his gaze fixed on the water as he tried to steady himself before turning around. The sight of Mingi standing there, his hands in his pockets and his expression clouded with an unreadable mix of frustration and sadness, made Yunho’s heart sink even further.

“It’s so unfair,” Mingi said, his voice tight, his eyes reflecting an emotion Yunho couldn’t ignore. He looked at Yunho with a kind of intensity that made Yunho’s breath hitch. Mingi’s jaw was clenched, and a tear was slowly making its way down his cheek, glistening in the dim light. “That you think you alone have the right to decide what happens between us.”

Yunho felt a pang of hurt at Mingi’s words. The accusation was blunt, and it struck him deeply. “What do you mean?” Yunho’s voice wavered as he tried to understand the weight of Mingi’s words. “What do you mean by ‘us’?”

“Us.” Mingi took a step closer, his hand coming out of his pocket and gesturing between the two of them with a frustrated sweep. “You and me. Yunho and Mingi. This thing we have.”

Yunho’s breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded, and his limbs felt suddenly weak. “Mingi, what are you talking about?”

Mingi’s eyes were locked on Yunho’s, filled with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “You don’t get to decide unilaterally that we can’t be together. That it’s over before it’s even begun.”

Yunho’s mind raced, struggling to process the depth of Mingi’s words. “Mingi... I...” The reality of what Mingi was saying was crashing over him, a wave of shock and confusion. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, don’t try to explain it away.” Mingi’s voice was firm, though it trembled with emotion. “I thought... I thought you might say something tonight, but it’s like you were waiting for the perfect moment that never came.”

Yunho’s heart dropped. He turned fully to face Mingi, pulling his feet out of the water and rising to his full height. “I was afraid. I thought... I thought I’d make a fool of myself if I said anything.”

Mingi’s eyes softened, but there was still a hint of sadness there. “Didn’t you see? I was being open with you. I showed you how I felt, even though I knew you might not notice. I wore my heart on my sleeve, but you were too busy hiding yours.”

Yunho’s hands shook slightly as he tried to keep his composure. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know... I didn’t realize you felt this way. I was just... I was scared. Scared of what it would mean if you didn’t feel the same.”

“I love you,” Mingi said, his voice breaking, raw with emotion. “I love you so much, and I was hoping that tonight would be the night you finally admitted that you felt the same.”

Yunho’s eyes welled up as he struggled to hold back his tears. “Mingi... I’m going to college. I have to move, and it’s... it’s a big change. I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Mingi’s face softened, and he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Yunho’s. “I’ve been accepted into the same college. I’m not letting you go without me. If you think you’re leaving me behind, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Yunho’s heart fluttered at the revelation. He felt a mixture of relief and elation, his emotions swirling together. “You... you’re going to the same college?”

“Yeah,” Mingi said, nodding firmly. “So you either take me with you, or you stay here. I’m not letting you go without me.”

Yunho’s hands trembled as he raised them to cover his face, overwhelmed by the surge of emotions. “I’m sorry, Mingi. I didn’t know how to...”

Mingi gently took Yunho’s hands away from his face, his touch tender. He wiped away Yunho’s tears with a soft, almost reverent touch, and Yunho found himself laughing through his tears, a mix of relief and disbelief.

“I love you too, Mingi,” Yunho said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry for being so afraid.”

Mingi cupped Yunho’s face and pulled him into a kiss on the cheek. “Take me with you.”

Yunho wrapped his arms around Mingi’s waist, holding him tightly as if to anchor himself in this newfound certainty. “I will. I’m not leaving without you.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Mingi said, his voice low and serious.

Yunho leaned in, closing the gap between them, and their lips met. The kiss was intense, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had been building up. Yunho felt a profound sense of connection as their lips moved together, the kiss feeling like a promise and a release all at once.

They were outside, by the pool, but neither of them cared about the possibility of being seen. The world outside felt distant and irrelevant compared to the depth of their emotions in this moment.

Mingi’s kiss was fervent, a reflection of the desperation and relief they both felt. Yunho's hands roamed to Mingi’s back, pulling him closer. The sensation of Mingi’s body pressed against his own was intoxicating, and Yunho could barely contain the rush of emotions surging through him.

“MINGI!” Yunho almost chuckled into the kiss as Mingi’s hands found their way to his shirt, tugging at the fabric with an eager urgency.

“We’re outside,” Yunho murmured between kisses, though he was quickly losing himself in the moment.

“I know,” Mingi said breathlessly, his lips brushing against Yunho’s. “But I’ve been waiting for this for so long, I can’t help it.”

Yunho felt Mingi’s hands on his body, undoing the buttons of his shirt with a frantic, almost clumsy energy. He responded by guiding Mingi’s hands with his own, feeling the warmth of his touch and the electricity of their closeness.

They continued to kiss passionately as Yunho's hands roamed over Mingi’s back, pulling him even tighter. Mingi’s body was pressed flush against Yunho’s, and the heat from their bodies mingled with the coolness of the night air, creating a delicious contrast that heightened their senses.

Without breaking the kiss, Yunho began to walk backward, leading Mingi to the edge of the pool. He stopped just at the brink, feeling the cool tiles under his feet. Mingi followed eagerly, their bodies never losing contact. When Yunho felt the edge of the pool against his legs, he took a deep breath and then, with a sudden burst of energy, he pulled Mingi with him.

They fell into the pool with a splash, their bodies sinking beneath the surface. The shock of the cold water was exhilarating, and Yunho surfaced quickly, pulling Mingi up with him. They floated together, the water buoying their bodies as they laughed, their breaths coming in excited bursts.

As they floated, Yunho looked at Mingi with a mixture of wonder and adoration. The stars above seemed to twinkle more brightly, as if celebrating their newfound connection. They were both breathing heavily, their faces inches apart.

“Wow,” Mingi said, breaking the silence, his voice light and playful despite the lingering intensity of their moment. “All the rumors about you being a great kisser were true.”

Yunho laughed, the sound echoing softly in the night. “Rumors, huh? You make it sound like I’m some kind of legend.”

“There were other rumors too,” Mingi continued, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “About how good you are in bed.”

Yunho’s heart raced at the implication, his cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. “Really? And what did you hear?”

Mingi swam closer, their bodies almost touching again. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That you’re amazing. That you make every moment unforgettable.”

Yunho felt a surge of heat at Mingi’s words. His hand instinctively reached out, cupping the back of Mingi’s neck. “And you? Did you believe the rumors?”

Mingi’s eyes locked onto Yunho’s, his expression serious but tender. “I hoped they were true. I’ve wanted to find out for a long time.”

The air between them crackled with electricity as Yunho’s hands moved to Mingi’s waist, pulling him closer. “If I’m being honest, I’ve imagined this moment so many times too.”

Mingi’s eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping his lips. “You have?”

“Yeah,” Yunho admitted, his voice filled with both longing and tenderness. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

The intensity of the moment enveloped them, and Mingi’s hand found its way to Yunho’s cock, stroking him with a steady rhythm. Yunho’s head fell back, a moan escaping his lips as he felt the pleasure building.

Mingi’s gaze was focused, his breath hot against Yunho’s skin. “So, are the rumors true?”

Yunho nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Yes. Every single one.”

Mingi’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and excitement. “I think i need to test that out even if the legend himself says it is true.”

Yunho felt a pang of desire as Mingi’s hand continued its teasing exploration. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

They moved together, their bodies slick with water and desire. Yunho guided Mingi’s hands to undo his trousers, and soon they were both naked, the water around them creating an intimate cocoon.

Mingi’s eyes were dark with passion as he lowered himself onto Yunho’s cock, his body trembling with anticipation. Yunho’s hands gripped Mingi’s hips, guiding him as he sank down. The feeling of Mingi enveloping him was intense, and Yunho’s moans filled the air as he lost himself in the sensation.

Mingi’s movements were slow at first, savoring every moment as Yunho’s hands roamed over his body. The water made their movements slippery and fluid, heightening the sensation.

“Fuck, Yunho,” Mingi moaned, his voice a mixture of pleasure and longing. “You feel incredible.”

Yunho’s grip tightened on Mingi’s hips, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re amazing, Mingi. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

He couldn’t help but thrust upward, meeting Mingi’s slow movements with a desperate hunger. Mingi’s eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back as he let out a soft moan.

“Yunho...” Mingi’s voice was barely audible, but it sent shivers down Yunho’s spine. He pulled Mingi closer, their chests pressing together as they moved in perfect sync. The water around them seemed to vibrate with their passion, the sound of their ragged breathing and soft moans echoing through the night air.

Mingi’s hands found their way to Yunho’s shoulders, his fingers digging deep into the skin as he rode the waves of pleasure.

Mingi's hips continued to move, the slickness of the water making each thrust feel even more intense. Yunho's fingers traced patterns on Mingi's hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The feeling of Mingi's warmth and tightness was overwhelming, and Yunho could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Mingi," Yunho gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm close."

Mingi's eyes fluttered open, and he gave Yunho a wicked smile. "Then let go, Yunho. I want to feel you come apart."

Yunho's body tensed, his muscles straining as he struggled to hold on. But it was no use. With a strangled cry, he let go, his body shuddering as he released a wave of pent-up pleasure. Mingi's eyes locked onto his, a fierce glint of triumph burning in their depths as he rode out the storm, his own body trembling with the force of Yunho's release.

As the last shudders of Yunho's orgasm faded, Mingi leaned forward, his lips crashing down on Yunho's in a fierce, possessive kiss.

As their lips parted, Mingi's chest heaved with ragged breaths, his eyes still burning with a fierce intensity. Yunho's hands slid down to his hips, fingers digging deep into the skin as he pulled Mingi closer. The water around them seemed to ripple with the aftershocks of Yunho's orgasm, but Mingi's body was still coiled with tension.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Yunho reached down and wrapped his hand around Mingi's cock, his fingers closing around the warm flesh like a vice. Mingi's eyes flashed open, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as Yunho began to stroke him with a steady rhythm.

Mingi's eyes rolled back, his head falling against Yunho's shoulder as the gentle strokes sent shivers down his spine. Yunho's fingers danced across his skin, teasing out every last drop of pleasure. The water around them seemed to grow warmer, as if it too was responding to the heat of their passion.

As Yunho's hand moved in perfect sync with Mingi's ragged breathing, his own body began to stir once more. The sensation of Mingi's cock in his hand, the feel of his warm skin, and the sound of his soft moans all combined to reignite the flames of desire within him.

Mingi's breath hitched as Yunho's hand began to move with more purpose, his fingers tracing the length of Mingi's cock in long, slow strokes. Mingi's hips bucked involuntarily, his body begging for more. Yunho's lips found Mingi's ear, his breath hot and heavy. "Let go, Mingi. Let me feel you come undone."

Mingi's response was a low, guttural moan as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through his body.

Mingi's body shuddered as he reached his peak, his warm release spilling over Yunho's hand and into the water around them. Yunho's fingers tightened around Mingi's cock, milking every last drop of pleasure from him.

Mingi's breath came in ragged gasps as he leaned back, his head resting against Yunho's shoulder. Yunho's other arm wrapped around Mingi's chest, holding him close as they both came down from their high.

The water around them was still, the only sound was their heavy breathing and the occasional splash as they gently moved.

Afterwards, they floated together, their bodies slick and spent. The cool water felt soothing against their heated skin as they held each other, their breaths slowly returning to normal.

“So,” Mingi said, breaking the silence with a soft, contented sigh. “Now that we’ve done that...”

Yunho smiled, his heart full. “Yes?”

Mingi looked up at the stars, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe we messed up the order of things, but... do you want to be...”

Yunho completed his sentence, his voice gentle. “Boyfriends?”

Mingi nodded, a shy smile on his lips. “Yeah. Boyfriends.”

Yunho’s heart soared at Mingi’s words. “I’d like that. More than anything.”

Mingi’s eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss Yunho tenderly. “Thank you for being here. For everything.”

Yunho returned the kiss with equal tenderness. “Thank you for being with me. For making everything feel right.”

They climbed out of the pool, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies. Mingi dove back in to fetch their clothing, and as they dressed, the unspoken promise of their new relationship hung between them. Yunho might have been uncertain an hour ago, but now, with Mingi by his side, he felt a sense of clarity and contentment.

Everything around them had seemed overwhelming, but now, Yunho knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. He felt as if he were floating, secure in the knowledge that, together, they could face whatever came next.

[fishii-writes]

aphrodite’s favourite star - a poem

cw: profanity, mentions of god (nothing religious), jealousy? (kind of), implied suicide if you squint, self hate,

a/n: melancholic era but there's reasons im sad obv lol

my dear,

my stunning darling.

can i be honest?

i fucking hate it, i really do,

when you say you’re ugly.

because, well, why??

you’re gorgeous,

Aphrodite hand crafted you.

the goddess herself put utmost care into your creation,

she knew what she was doing when i look at your face.

and think, no, wish.

fuck it, not even wish. long.

“god, i want to look like her. be her, even.”

and i mean, am i wrong?

people should be jealous of your beauty,

and be grateful for your mere presence.

i, for one, am delighted and appreciate your mere existence,

for to even breathe the same air as you is a blessing.

but part of me,

i think it’s also a curse.

why must you bless me with your presence,

yet i curse you with mine?

why do you breathe the same air as me,

so gracefully and perfectly,

yet i pollute it like it’s not life’s greatest necessity.

is it?

life’s greatest necessity, i mean.

i mean, i don’t need it, do i?

it’s not like i want to live,

let alone need to.

aw, isn’t that silly?

i’m not pretty and suddenly it’s the end of the world!

maybe you say i’m overreacting,

and i kind of am.

but maybe you don’t know what it’s like

to live like me everyday.

well, that’s besides the point.

may you recognise it one day,

my gift from god themself.

y’know, if you were a star,

which you are to me,

i would dedicate my whole life to astronomy.

just to begin to understand how such an organism exists,

in a world where i’m the night sky. the background.

after all, you’re the main attraction,

my beautiful star.

taglist: @reapkusho / @reaper-in-reverie , @shrii-kk , @the-rini-rush (ask to be added!)

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© fishii-writes 2024

[spacebarbarianweird]

Omg hi!!! Love your Writting, could you make an Astarion x Eladrin! Reader please? It can be and fey eladrin or a celestial eladrin (tough i prefer the celestial ones). I'm surprised no one asked for an eladrin hc already, they're such dolls)

Hi! Eladrins are truly interesting. The difference between two types depends on what edition you play - before the 4th edition Eladrins were native to Arvandor, distant cousins to elves. Beginning with the 4th Edition, they're fey creatures from the Feywild.

As there is more relevant info about Fey Eladrin, I will write this HCs based on them but the difference between different types of Eladrin isn't really big.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Eladrin!Tav

Your ancestors were casted away from Arvandor along with other elves but instead of going to Material Planes they chose Feywild as their home.

Many of your kind have slowly lost their humanoid form and allowing the wild magic of the Faierie to change them.

The seasons for you aren't times of the year, they are places you can visit and the form you can take.

When you are a Spring Eladrin, you sing and dance but so easily fall in love that you lose yourself.

When you are Summer, you are a stubborn fighter.

As Autumn you are kind and generous but to trustful.

But as Winter you are depressed and melancholic.

In trance you change your season like a dress and your change appearance as well.

It drives Astarion insane because you have four different personalities and four different skins.

Fey Eladrins and stability are complete opposites.

But at the same he is attracted to your wild magic, so alive and bustling, nothing like what his undead existence is.

You are also a gender fluid since sex and gender are too limitimg when defined.

Sometimes you feel like a man, sometimes like a woman, sometimes you are both, sometimes you are none.

The adventures on the Material Planes is just another fun experience for you since you are not intedning to stay there.

As for Astarion he doesn't truly knows what to do.

The Undead don't belong to Feywild, he can't go there with you and he isn't sure he wants all this fey madness.

Meanwhile the Material Plane is too exhausting, too stable, too bleak for you.

But you decide to stay.

To stay to get him the cure.

Astarion doesn't remember being alive, but you know how miserable he truly is.

Hunger. Cold. Pain.

There must be the way.

Astarion gets used to your changing nature. You just become a very complex person to him but luckily your pysical appearance betrays your mood change as well and he always knows which "you" he is going to deal with today.

You spend a century looking for ithe cure but nothing helps. It's just a ghost you keep searching for.

And the Material Plane is draining you, sometimes you are so week,you can't move for months, lying motionless in your trance and remembering the Feywild.

Astarion begs you to go.

He will be fine. This century was the the best time he ever hoped to have. He will remember you. He will cherish the memories of you.

But you have to part ways. He is an undead, he belongs to the Shadowplace and all what is dread. He will wander the roads for eternity as the creature of the dark. And you will live your long life in the magical place of fey wonders.

He will never forget you.

Beaides there isn't anyone like you, his tiny wild love.

You dissappear like a mist in the morning and he hopes you are happy in the magical feywild.

He keeps living

Hunting monsters .

Adebturing here and there.

Sometimes he makes griends, sometimes he takes lovers

But in his reverie he remembers only his eladrin of tje feywild the magical creature who gave him hope.

A century passes.

Lonely ten decades.

Astarion meditates and his meditation is so deep it is more like a real sleep.

He feels that something is beside him someone warm, someone familiar.

He wakes up and sees you.

You lie beside him in your atumn form warm like a lantern.

You break the silence and brush his cheek, making him sniff.

"I know how to cure you."

You spare Astarion of details, he doesn't need to know what price you paid.

A century of slavery. Of servitude. Of humilation.

A fey, powerful and cruel, shoved the cure up to your nose, bragging they have it and you don't.

A century. A terrible, difficult century with every day worse than another.

Losing your humanoid form. Being an ugly beast for a decade. Losing yoir mind and doing the most disgusting things for your master.

The feys are cruel when they know you need them.

The transformation is painful and long and you are afraid the fey bitch lied to you.

They didn't.

Astarion opens his eyes and they are emerald greem like Feywild woods.

It takes him time to adapt to his mortal body but it's much easier in Feywild than it would be in the Material Plane.

You don't know what the future holds for you two.

The elven nature is fluid and unpredictable.

But deep inside you know you have always meant to be together, you are thiramins, elven soulmates. Maybe, you knew each other in your past lives. Maybe you are both something new.

And you have centuries ahead to figure this out.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[ode2rin]

JUST MAYBE .ೃ

pairing. isagi yoichi x gn!reader

genre. strangers to .. hopefully something more? | slow burn | chance encounter

content/warnings. 2.3k+ wc | characters are in their early 20s ! | pro-athlete!isagi | reader works in a bookstore | profanity | a bit heavy in narration | written in reader’s perspective |  minimal proofread | ooc!isagi (sorry it’s my first time writing for him..) | open ending

in which: a cafe encounter with a stranger shows you exactly how well fate intervenes

💭 thank you for the request anon!

this is it. this is the last straw.

this is the last time you’re ever allowing yourself to be vain and believe empty words from a man.

sitting in a café, self-pity takes hold of you as regret washes over your being. the nagging feeling, the hollowness in your gut that you should have paid attention to, now mocks you with its undeniable presence. how could you have ignored it, brushing it off as if it were insignificant?

the bustling café seemed oblivious to your disappointment, the air thick with the laughter and whispers of couples lost in their own bliss. their happiness, a stark contrast to your own melancholic state.

you glance at your phone, the screen displaying a conversation that adds salt to the wound.

you: let me know if you’re on your way! [2:06 pm] you: hey, i’m already here :) is everything fine? [2:43 pm]

a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the weight of anger and embarrassment settling upon your shoulders. 

dating in your early twenties has proven to be far more challenging than you ever imagined. while your friends effortlessly navigate the labyrinth of love, you find yourself trapped in a cycle of dashed hopes and unfulfilled connections. 

here you are, once again left sitting alone at a table meant for two.

and you know it's destructive to point fingers at directions pointing to you, but for goodness sake, can anyone just tell you what's wrong with you? or can fate simply provide apparent signs, allowing both you and the divine to save precious time? 

because it's becoming increasingly draining. 

the cycle repeats itself relentlessly: falling in love, only for it to unravel into a cacophony of screams and tears. your heart shattered, you gather the pieces and muster the courage to try again, only to wonder what awaits in the next stage of this never-ending cycle.

and you can’t help but to wonder, when will it ever be your turn? if other people could experience a love so kind, why can’t you? why can't you have what they have? what makes you any less deserving?

is it really too much to ask for a love that doesn't demand a piece of your soul as collateral? can't there exist a love where vulnerability isn't met with heartache?

and coming from someone who has been gravely hurt in the name of so-called love, it’s impossible not to wonder if such love even exists in this world or if it's merely a figment of your imagination born from those contemporary romance books you read on your lonely nights.

well, there's no use crying over spilled milk. he wasn't all that anyway. besides, you had only agreed to this supposed date due to your friend's persistent nagging, urging you to break your self-imposed “man ban” streak and venture back into the world of romance. “why not?” you had thought at the time, only to be reminded why you even imposed such a ban in the first place.

“excuse me, is this seat taken? the place is kinda packed, so if you don’t mind..” 

lost in your thoughts, you're momentarily startled as a soft voice interrupts your reverie. the stranger before you stumbles over his words, shyness coloring his demeanor.

you take a moment to truly see him— this man who has unexpectedly entered your sphere. and heavens, he is gorgeous.

“no, it’s not taken. please, feel free.”

with your response, the stranger settles into the seat across from you. as he takes a sip from his cup, your nose takes a whiff of the inviting aroma of his latte, which fills the air, adding another layer of warmth to the already vibrant café atmosphere.

taking a contemplative sip of your own drink, you savor the flavors that dance on your tongue. the comforting embrace of the warm liquid spreads through your body, soothing your senses.

his blue-eyed gaze drifts toward your own drink, curiosity evident within those pools. “what drink is that? it looks intriguing.”

you can't help but internally chuckle at his attempts at small talk. your drink is nothing spectacular, let alone intriguing, but the fact that he wants to make something out of it gives you a glimpse of his endearing shyness.

still, you smile, pleased by his interest. “it's actually their signature drink. i find it quite enjoyable. and your latte? it looks divine.”

well, you’re not any better than his attempts. seriously? what looks exceptionally divine about a latte?

the man in front of you nods appreciatively, taking another sip from his cup. “nothing grand, just a decaf latte. i find it soothing and energizing, especially on slow days like this one.”

you hum in response, seemingly out of attempts for small talk. but the lack of a coherent response from you doesn’t elicit an uncomfortable silence, but rather the opposite. a cozy silence settles between you, the ambient sounds of the café serving as a gentle backdrop to your now shared sphere.

after a few minutes of sitting in silence, you notice from your peripheral vision that he steals a few glances your way, as if waiting for the right moment to strike up another conversation.

cute.

it's an understatement, as a matter of fact. the guy before you is downright mesmerizing. if you could gaze at his face for more than two seconds without being called weird, you could map the entirety of how blessed this man’s face is — the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he speaks, the subtle strength in his jawline, and the way his hair falls in a perfectly disheveled manner.

and his eyes. damn, his eyes. such a beautiful shade of blue must have taken the hand of god some time to create.

“so –”

“what –”

the two of you speak simultaneously, your voices overlapping in the air, prompting you both to take a moment and stare at each other before laughing at the coincidence.

“you first,” you offered.

“no, you go first.”

you offer a warm smile and motion for him to go first. “i insist.” the truth is, after seeing him laugh, you momentarily forgot what you were even about to ask.

it’s just a laugh. get it together.

were you this deprived of someone’s company to melt at their laugh? or is this stranger just so painfully beautiful that it’s now affecting your memory and ability to converse?

his lips curl into a shy smile as he hesitates for a brief moment. his eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “alright, well, i was wondering... do you come here often? i don’t think i’ve seen you here before.”

you shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “not really. i'm actually a newcomer here. i work at a bookstore nearby, and i stumbled upon this place by chance.”

it was two truths and one lie. and as apparent as it was, you sure as hell didn’t “stumbled upon this place,” where in truth and fact, you were invited here by your supposed-to-be date who might have forgotten to reply to you two hours after your last message.

“the bookstore on the main street? it’s a huge place, that’s so cool. my friend, chigiri, has been meaning to visit there. maybe i’ll try to tag along some time.”

a blush crept up your cheeks, touched by his admiration. it was a stark contrast to the belittlement toward your job you had encountered in past dating experiences, and this wasn’t even a date. “thank you. i’ll be happy to help you and your friend when you drop by.”

“so, what do you do, mr…?” you asked, trying to delve deeper into the conversation.

“oh, pardon me for not introducing myself properly. i’m isagi yoichi, and i, uhm, play soccer for a living. it's not as impressive as being surrounded by books all day, though.”

isagi yoichi. soccer player.

so that explains the hint of a lean physique beneath his clothes – not that you were checking him out. anyone with eyesight could detect that this gorgeous stranger, isagi, is in great shape. yup, definitely not checking him out.

“and yours?”

“hmm? sorry, what were you saying?”

a soft smile tugs at isagi's lips as he repeats his question, “i was just asking about your name.”

you bring your attention back to the present, realizing you've momentarily lost yourself in his gaze. “oh. it’s l/n y/n.”

as the words of your name hang in the air, a sense of familiarity begins to settle between you. you and isagi engage in a comfortable conversation, effortlessly weaving in and out of topics. each exchange reveals more about your respective lives, forging a connection that feels too genuine for people who just met not even an hour ago. 

isagi shares stories from his soccer career, the highs and lows, the challenges and triumphs. his passion for the sport shines through in every word, and you find yourself captivated by how animated he is in sharing his tales. it's a pleasant break from your previous experiences, where self-importance seemed to be the common thread among your dates. 

with isagi, there's no trace of conceit hanging in every word. 

in turn, you open up about your love for literature and the joy you find in sharing stories with others. isagi listens attentively, his eyes sparkling with interest as you speak about the power of words and the magic that exists within the pages of books. 

while it becomes evident that he may not be an avid reader himself, there's a beautiful acceptance and respect in the way isagi listens. he never once made you feel as though your love for literature is any less significant than his passion for soccer.

amidst the lively exchange, you catch glimpses of isagi's gentle nature, his ability to make you feel at ease, and his genuine curiosity about your thoughts and experiences. it's a refreshing change from the superficial interactions you've had in the past, and you're left wondering if the man in front of you is even real.

you can't help but laugh at the thought of men being able to hold a conversation like isagi. and while that proves that the bar may be in hell, but damn, it is as if isagi raised it above his own head.

time seems to slip away as the conversation flows effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and genuine moments of connection. there are no awkward silences, no need for pretense or guardedness. it's as if you've known each other for much longer than a chance encounter in a café.

just when you think the moment might stretch into eternity, isagi’s ringing phone slices through the air, abruptly breaking the spell. 

his eyes widen, a touch of regret flickering across his face as he retrieves his phone from his pocket. “ah, it's my teammate. i'm afraid i have to head out first,” he says with a tinge of disappointment.

your heart sinks a little at the prospect of parting ways so soon. “oh, it's okay. i had a nice time, isagi,” you reply, attempting to mask your disappointment.

“me too,” isagi responds, his voice filled with a hint of tone you’re feigning ignorance too. “i wish we could talk more.”

you can sense the hesitance in his words, the unspoken desire to extend the encounter. it's an opening, a moment of curiosity lingering between you. seizing the opportunity, you decide to tease him ever so slightly. “hmm, well, that call seemed important,” you remark, raising an eyebrow playfully.

you’re not dense, but you were curious to see how he would try.

isagi fidgets, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, i think so. we have an upcoming match next weekend,” he stumbles over his words, clearly struggling with the invitation he's about to extend. “speaking of the match, would it be too forward of me to invite you to watch?”

wouldn’t it? 

your heart flutters at the invitation, and for a brief moment, you contemplate the possibilities.

this day had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. one moment, you were nursing the wounds of being stood up, wallowing in self-pity and contemplating the challenges of dating. and now, here you were, being invited by a complete stranger — a stranger who also happened to be the most captivating person you've ever laid eyes upon.

fate be damned, because it seems to have a wicked sense of humor, toying with your emotions from one extreme to another.

glancing down at your cup, you swirl the remaining liquid, feigning nonchalance to mask the racing thoughts in your mind. “depends on who you want me to attend as,” you tease, curious to see how he responds.

you raise your eyes, locking eyes with isagi, only to find him wearing a boyish grin that could rival the sun and staring at you with those damn blue eyes that put the oceans to shame.

“anything you can offer to be, right now.”

fuck it. 

with a surge of boldness, you decide to take a leap of faith. “then i would love to be there.”

the energy shifts as isagi beams at your acceptance of his invitation. he bids you goodbye, only to hesitate and return to you with an endearing awkwardness. he offers his number, tripping over his own words as he suggests you can call him whenever you want. you can't help but laugh at his adorable awkwardness, finding it endearing beyond measure. you hand him your phone, and with hurried movements, he inputs his number before bidding you goodbye once more.

with a smile lingering on your lips, you watch isagi's retreating figure, feeling a warmth radiate through you. your gaze then shifts to the phone in your hand, where you see the contact name you've set for him. 

maybe: isagi yoichi

why not, right? you're down to take the chance.

because maybe, just maybe, one more try wouldn’t hurt this time.

note. welcome to isagi mimi debut omg i kinda do not like it but huhu this trope is so hard for me to write, i’m not gonna lie. but i surprisingly had fun making this hehe. and i’m not really a fan of instant love soooo, here’s the best i could do ._. i think i would rather opt to make a sequel than a time skip so let’s leave it at that :>

thanks for reaching this far!

💭 back to: milestone event

[irenethewoman]

Mrs. Shelby - Chapter One- Escape (part 1)

This chapter is quite long, it’s going to be in two parts. Hope you enjoy.

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In October 1914, I found myself in Birmingham. The train came to a halt on the platform, and as it did, a person in brown hastily disembarked from the car. I scanned my surroundings cautiously. The platform lay in dimly lit solitude, the air was chilly, so I draped my half-worn cashmere coat around me and hastened forward, my gaze fixed ahead. My hope was to secure a job in Birmingham that would sustain me, putting an end to my northward travels. My intention was to find a place to rest and recuperate for a while before seeking employment. With all the men away at war, the factories surely lacked labor. Ideally, it would be an office job, but upon arriving at a hotel, I discovered a hole had been cut into my wallet, and the coins inside had vanished. The gaping gash, created by a blade, danced in Birmingham's cold breeze, taunting me. The innkeeper's eyes spoke volumes; he clearly regarded me with suspicion, assuming I had ulterior motives. Over the past two weeks of fleeing, I had endured much hardship.

The injustices I'd encountered, unlike any I'd known in the past 15 years, left the Baroness in a melancholic state. I had wanted to unleash my anger, to scold the innkeeper, but considering my current predicament, discretion was the better part of valor. I couldn't risk leaving a lasting impression that might lead to my being taken back to London. So, I swallowed the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue, turned on my heel, and exited with my head held high. It wasn't until I was out of the innkeeper's view that I crouched down on the street, wrapped my arms around my knees, and wept. If my father were still alive, this would never have happened! He had aspired to marry his little princess into No. 10 Downing Street. The memory of Nurse Claire and Sister Mary helping me pack on that night remained vivid. The wet nurse had packed my luggage with nearly all the jewelry and coins I could carry. My pregnant sister Mary had suffered at the hands of her child's father, my illegitimate brother, for concealing my whereabouts. I'll never forget how Nurse Claire clung to me in tears inside the dark closet, preventing me from rushing out. We had held each other in silence while Sister Mary's voice faded into the distance. I would never forget the sight of the bloodstains on the marble floor of Turner House as we hastily departed. Shards of shattered glass glistened under the crystal lamp's glow. We had left in a hurry amid my sister's screams, and Nurse Claire had personally escorted me onto the northbound train. Despite my pleading, she had refused to accompany me, choosing to stay in London. Her brown eyes had been brimming with tears as she'd said, "Live well, miss, live well..." The gnawing hunger in my stomach pulled me from my reverie. I needed to survive, for the honor of Baroness Turner, for Nurse Claire and Sister Mary. Only through survival could I have a future. I wiped away my tears and, after patting myself down, retrieved three chocolate pieces wrapped in gold foil. It was a humble brand available at malls. In the past, we had imported Swiss and Belgian confections, and I wouldn't have touched this variety. But now, with not a penny to my name, I welcomed it gladly. As I unwrapped the chocolate, ready to take my first bite, I noticed a young boy sitting across the street, about the age of my brother, his blue eyes locked onto me and the chocolate coin in my hand. We shared a prolonged gaze from across the street. He was a child, and I, in my desperation, was acting rather childishly myself. Eventually, I made my way over, suitcase in tow, and sat beside him, offering him the unopened chocolates. My intuition told me he was a runaway. To run away at a time like this, he must have been loved and cared for at home. Perhaps he was the little angel I needed to escape my troubles. He accepted the chocolates but seemed in no hurry to open them. I paid him no mind as my hunger overtook me, devouring the chocolate in my hand. "What's this?" he asked softly, eyeing me as I ate. "Chocolate," I replied honestly. "You're lying. The chocolate here doesn't look like that," he retorted, still fixated on the chocolate in his hand. True, even though it was a cheap brand, the glittering wrapping paper had an irresistible allure to children, not to mention the delicious chocolate within. "But this is how they make chocolate in London," I shrugged. "I've tasted better ones, from Switzerland and Belgium. The French are skilled in making chocolate desserts too. We used to have a French chef at home, and his desserts were exquisite." The boy's interest grew with each word I spoke. It was a promising start. "So, can I come to your house?" I feigned regret, "I'm afraid not. We had to let that chef go." The boy's bright blue eyes dimmed at my response, but I quickly added, "But I did learn a few dessert recipes from him. If there's a kitchen, I can make some for you." After some internal struggle, the boy finally stood up, took my hand, and led me to a busier street.

[dansconcepts]

Balloons

A (not so) little Komahina drabble with a Kyouko (and hints of Naegiri) preamble based on this interaction from the Danganronpa Summer Camp game (and yes I 100% bought it and for full price because I'm really silly but I'm so committed for the interactions like JSKAJSKSKA I want them to be happy so bad):

Hajime: You make the flower petals like this, attach the stem… and there ya go, done! Kyouko: Huh, you're surprisingly dexterous. Kyouko: Would you mind if I took this flower? Hajime: Sure, no problem at all. Kyouko: Thanks. Keep up the good work. Kyouko exits. Hajime: I know it's a fake flower, but… giving it to a girl is still kinda embarrassing. Hajime: And to Kyouko, no less. I hope she doesn't tell the boys that she got it from me…

The detective thumbs at the rubbery material, indeed appreciating Hajime’s workmanship. He truly does seem capable of plenty, even if it was like a jack of all trades. But oftentimes is better than a master of one. She retorts her silent conjecture. And indeed, it shows in the way his determination seems to spark around people who are motivated in their passions.

It is just like the creation of this flower. The happy yellow it sprouts reminds her of a certain classmate. She has no need to act coy to herself, it is prevalent to her that her emotions have strayed to a place she never anticipated them to go.

Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Luck. He has shown time and time again he was more than such a title. Every time he asks questions, remarks on a viewpoint she hadn’t considered, provides patience and calmness when she is unable to compose herself quickly enough… he was endearing and dependable, the type that she can’t help but be drawn to in the midst of the chaos that was her detective duties.

Perhaps she will present this flower to Makoto. It may not be overly affectionate, but she knows Makoto enjoys small acts with messages as simple as “being thought about”. It’s an idea to scoff at, with his easy going personality being the most digestible compared to her fellow classmates. He is, quite often, considered by everyone as the de facto leader of their class the moment he stepped up in second year. His development was quite admirable and impressive. Everyday, he will be greeted by everyone and talked to in one way or the other.

In that sense, it is easier to dismiss his more anxious side, melancholic and self-loathing. Although caring for others is not very easy for her despite the strides being taken by her classmates, there is something about Makoto that makes her feel adequate in giving him an ear to listen to rather than forcing physical affection.

“Kirigiri?” A soft voice pushes through her reverie. Lavender eyes trail up to stark white hair, and a more casual outfit than she has ever seen him wearing. It reflects the setting of the festival however, and she endeavours to say as much-

“I apologize for interrupting you with my presence. I know you must have more important matters than looking upon trash like me,” Kyouko’s mouth closes. Nothing has prepared her to treat this sudden situation. She is aware of Komaeda’s low self-esteem and the way it manifests, but she has never been on its receiving end and is uncertain how to proceed. Komaeda continues on regardless, “I saw this flower balloon had flown out of your hands and I managed to get it back in one piece. How lucky!”

Indeed, in his hand is the yellow flower balloon that she must have let go of during her musings. She takes it from him and nods. “Thank you Komaeda.”

He beams. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, I’m very happy to help. It’s really the least I could do for an Ult- for such an admirable person.”

She notices the intentional slipping of the word “Ultimate”, but does not make any move to indicate her recognition of it. Clearly, it was a habit of his he was trying to stop, if his behaviour is any indication.

“Although," Komaeda says, "I did find it strange you had a balloon with you.”

“Hinata is the one making them. Although his repertoire was limited, he does what he offers quite well.”

The Ultimate Lucky student hums, turning his head back in the direction of where Hinata’s table was. “Really now? How fascinating.” He looks to the ground, and she wonders what he is pondering about.

She remembers seeing them together often, albeit in passing. She notes that their position relative to the celebration is quite distant, out closer to the beach, but still close enough to see most of the attractions. Hmm… “From what I observed, he still has about half a package of balloons left. I’m quite certain you can get one from him.”

Kyouko studies the way Komaeda turns to her warily. She has a hunch now though, and she states, “He would gladly give you one, regardless of what occurs. I think he will appreciate a more familiar presence supporting him.”

Some emotions seem to dart across Komaeda’s face, but she cannot process them all in time before it settles. He sighs. “Ah, I suppose you figured me out. As expected of the Ultimate Detective!” He praises. She sees the way he glances back to the festival tents. “I suppose I can pay a friend a visit.”

She allows herself a smile, hoping it comes off as encouraging. “Good luck.”

He laughs. “I sure hope I'll have it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nagito hugs himself loosely, clutching onto the soft fabric enveloping him as he walks past stands and tents. He looks around, biting his lip. A sigh inevitably escapes, much like his resolve always does.

He listens. Chatter, laughter- so much, so loud... But no cries or sobs. No cracks of wood or thumps of metal. And most thankfully, no screams. Regardless, he checks around him anyway. His presence here can change so many things. He can bring so much despair just by simply existing. Why did he possibly come in here again?

A glimpse of spiky brown hair and a familiar tie fills his vision. Right. It always traces back to Hajime.

The Reserve Course student goes to finish up shaping a red balloon into a flower, and hands it over to the Ultimate Astronaut, although his name escapes him. He can hear the “Awesome!” all the way from where he's standing, which is kind of impressive. The man makes his way to the Ultimate Caregiver, who he immediately tries giving the flower to. She looks pleased. Yet, she shouts “Do you want to die!?” so maybe he misread her?

Nagito turns back to Hajime, who’s already gesturing to him to come over. “Hey!” He smiles. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

He frowns. “I know that my presence isn’t deserved around U-.”

“Okay, shut the fuck up. You know I’m just glad you’re out here. How are you enjoying it so far?”

“Ah. What if I said I only came to see you?” He can’t help but tease. Hajime’s ears, as predicted, turn red.

“You can’t be serious. Out of everyone else?” that are Ultimates isn't spoken, but heavily implied.

“Now who’s the one who needs to stop talking about status?” He teases.

“H-hey! I didn't even say anything!” Hajime coughs. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t change the subject.”

Nagito hums. “I’m not joking though, I did come here because of you. Kirigiri told me you made her flower balloon and I just had to see what that was about.”

Upon sharing that info, Hajime averts his gaze, clearly blushing. How interesting…

He feels tempted to smirk, but doesn't in favour of sounding noncommittal, “Something wrong about what I said, Hajime?”

“Nope, nothing.” He trails off. “…You don’t think she’s told anyone else, do you?”

Nagito crosses his arms. Why would Hajime care? Is he embarrassed? How silly. He eyes the bag of balloons and lets out an amused puff. “Well, it certainly benefitted you if she did, considering you’ve emptied the whole bag.” The sigh escapes him before he can stop it. He didn’t even realize he wanted a balloon before it was taken away.

Just his luck. How disappointing.

“Huh?" Hajime asks. "It’s empty?”

He swiftly lifts the bag. "Aha!" He calls out triumphantly. Turns out, under the opaque portion of the packaging sits a deflated green balloon.

Nagito grins. “How lucky!”

Hajime responds with a smirk. He adds as much air as possible to the balloon, and when satisfied, says, “Alright, I know you’re going to make fun of me, but I can only manage a flower and a dog. Which one do you want?”

Although he probably would’ve been quick to tease Hajime about his skills “befitting a Reserve Course student”, the mention of a dog makes the words freeze on his tongue.

“A dog would be nice.” Nagito admits.

“Oh, sure.” Hajime says, a little disconcerted by the honesty, and his eyebrows are furrowed. Adorable. He doesn’t know how Hajime isn’t an Ultimate. In a way, he almost likes that he isn’t.

Within a few minutes of tanned hands twisting and turning rubber, he is finally presented with a cute little dog.

The ends of his lips tug upwards. He gently grabs the balloon, being extra careful to transport it into his arms.

“This is wonderful.” He says breathily.

Hajime looks at Nagito, bemused. “Your eyes are sparkling. I’ve never seen you so happy.” And almost as if it was an afterthought, he adds, “It looks good on you.”

What? “H-huh?”

“It seriously can’t be that surprising. It’s… nice to see you happy. Not that you don’t already look nice! You tied your hair and even wore a jinbei for the festival. You’re looking pretty good.”

The lucky student just stares at Hajime, who grows steadily more red under the gaze. The Reserve Course student swipes his hand through the air, as if that'll somehow dispel the flurry of thoughts going through his head. “Alright, what’s with that look?”

“I’m glad you think I look ‘good’, Hajime." He starts, "I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, much less someone like yourself, but I see your eyes would be more used to seeing trash in your everyday life and thinking it’s beautiful.”

Hajime stares him down. “Nagito, anyone at this camp would agree you’re good-looking. And I know you’re just saying that shit about me being a Reserve Course because you’re spiraling a little bit.” Ah. He looks at the ground. “Hey, it’s fine. We kinda talked about this, remember? I know we’re friends.”

He doesn’t reply. How could he? To be read so easily…

A warm hand grabs his shoulder. His gaze immediately whips to Hajime's face. “D-don’t think too much about this." A flustered Hajime spits out. "Let’s just go. We’re going around and enjoying this damn festival together.”

How is Hajime Hinata real?

“Is this your way of getting a date, Hajime?” He says playfully instead. “You could have just asked, you know. I’m sure Chiaki- or anyone else really- would not have declined.”

Hajime gives a raised eyebrow at the mention of Chiaki, but doesn’t seem to press it. Instead, he goes, “I’d rather be here with you, to be honest. I said it already, but it’s nice to have you out here. I might as well enjoy it while I can.”

Nagito shuts up at that. While judging Hajime the whole time, his face isn't any better, probably looking crimson at this point.

“And you dropped this.” Hajime waves the green balloon dog that ended up in his hands. The Ultimate blinks, surprised he had let go of it. However, the wind picks it out of Hajime’s hand and starts carrying it on its currents.

“Shit!” Hajime exclaims. He jumps, but it flies out of his reach.

“Fuck! I’m sorry Nagito, I didn’t mean to lose it.”

He easily waves it off with a chuckle. “No, it’s alright. Besides, you could always make another one.”

“I mean, honestly, this was pretty fun." Hajime admits, "I wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

And Hajime trails off, and he knows exactly why, considering he’s leaned in in that cutesy way he’s seen girls in dramas do. He smirks at Hajime’s bewildered face. While amused, he backs off, as if it was merely an accidental brush.

He sends him an innocent smile. Olive eyes narrow in response, but they face forward again in silent acceptance. It would be quite impressive, if Hajime’s face wasn’t flushed.

“There’s a restaurant here. You’re coming with me.”

He nods happily.

Things could always be worse because of my luck, but for some reason I feel like, perhaps, I'll be okay. But can I hope? Do I dare hope?

Nothing hurts more than hope getting crushed.

…But maybe…

Maybe this is worth it.