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#I have some Fairytales picked out already

toruro · 10 months

Text

— ✧ isohel

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff

tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se

fic playlist

w/c. 26.2k

a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back.

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

find an alternate ending here!

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

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wolfiesmoon · 3 months

Text

The TWST boys and their number 1 princess

reader is fem! and is a bit of a bratty princess typa girl😌

i already wrote this on my haikyuu blog a bit back but somehow the song world is mine fits with like every character ever (defo reccomend listening to the song while reading)

seriously it's so fun imagining the song with different characters

Characters featured: Silver, Leona, Riddle, Jack

₊˚⊹♡ Silver

"Siiilver!~ Where aaaare you?" you called out to him in the courtyard. Lilia told you he would be there so you're beginning your search, well, there.

Why you're looking for Silver in the first place? To hold his hand, of course. None of the subtler methods have worked so far, much to your chagrin.

Holding his hand is the first step to making him your prince, you see. You've spent countless nights fantasizing about him kneeling down and kissing your hand while singing praises about your endless beauty.

Oh, how exciting it is to see the future play out in front of your eyes! You even got endorsement from Lilia for the wedding!

You eventually found him laying in the green grass, peacefully asleep. He really does sleep a lot, huh? You just can't get enough of his face, especially when it's so relaxed and at peace.

Wait... now that you think about it, in a lot of fairytales where princesses are asleep, their problem is solved by true love's kiss. Maybe his issue can be solved by it too....

Forget holding hands, you have a curse to break (atleast you assume it's a curse, since Lilia has told you he can't control it at all)! And being the top princess, you can break it, of course!

You kneel down next to him, quickly checking your breath. Probably smells fine. It's now or never!

As you lean in, his eyes gently open and you immediately jump back, pretending you weren't just about to kiss him. Out of all the times he had to wake up, it was now... You were this close!

"Ugh... I fell asleep again...?" Silver seemed to be bothered, like he always is when he wakes up.

"You did! And I was kind enough to wake you up! You should be glad I happened to stumble upon you!" you tried your best to look unbothered and collected. Silver pouted slightly at your tone.

You got up, placing one hand on your knee and extending the other towards him to help him get up. He silently took it, getting up with your help. "Thank you." he said curtly, expression softening at your happy little grin.

Wait... He just held your hand for a moment there! He really did!!!

The wedding dress! You have to pick out a wedding dress, as soon as possible!

₊˚⊹♡ Leona Kingscholar

"Hmph! Won't you just say something already?!" For some reason, he looked nervous when he heard the anger in your voice. His eyebrows creased in worry for a moment before returning to their normal resting position. He's definitely not asleep then.

You finally got fed up with the lack of acknowledgement from Leona. Practically everyone but him complimented you on your outfit today.

You even dressed up all pretty just to impress him and get him to notice your outstanding appearance. Not that you need pretty clothes to impress. Any guy would be begging at your feet even when you're in your at-home shirt and your old worn out shorts.

Leona should consider himself lucky in that regard. You've fallen for him. He has to act fast or you'll be swept away by a much more noble prince before he can place a ring on your finger.

"Hmmm...? What are you yapping on about?" Leona opened one of his eyes, acting like he has no idea what you mean. He definitely noticed the outfit. He's just choosing not to mention it.

"The dress! You're supposed to mention it!" you stomped your foot on the ground, annoyed with him.

"Oh, I don't really care. It doesn't matter if you're wearin' the finest silk or a potato sack when you're a pain in the ass anyways." he closed his eyes again, sighing with annoyance.

"Ugh! You know what? I don't care about you anymore! I'll go find a guy who can appreciate me properly!"

You were totally bluffing, but you might actually start considering it soon if he keeps acting so annoyed around you.

A great princess knows when to give up, too. Unreciprocated love brings tears, and tears ruin cute makeup.

As you turned on your heels to stomp off to Vil for more makeup advice, you felt your wrist being grabbed roughly.

"Stay here. Just stay quiet and you can stay." He squeezed your wrist, his face looking like the very definition of annoyance and... jealousy?

This is certainly a turn of events. "Fine, I'll stay." You huff. "But ONLY if you say I'm pretty in my dress." You smile smugly, watching him sigh and furrow his brows.

"You look... beautiful." He said it as if he was forced to, but somehow you could sense some truth behind those words.

You never asked him to call you beautiful after all, he definitely could have gotten away with a three-quarter hearted 'you look pretty in that dress'.

₊˚⊹♡ Riddle Rosehearts

"Hiiiii, Riddle!~ Hi Silver, hi Sebek." You greeted Riddle cheerily, treating the other two Equestrian club members like an afterthought. Riddle is much cuter in comparison, after all.

You're here for a poetically romantic reason. You see, ever since you learned that Riddle knows how to ride a horse, a certain fantasy has been visiting you in your dreams every night. Ideally, you wish he had a princely white horse, but you suppose a brown one can fulfill its duty well enough. The fantasy of him taking you on a romantic horse ride is the same no matter what his horse looks like.

Which speaking of, you visit the Equestrian club every day so you can convince Riddle to let you ride his horse, to make your dream a reality. So far, no luck. Actually, you've been trying to get closer to Riddle in general recently.

He isn't the most receptive to your flirting attempts but he makes adorable faces of anger when Cater or Trey tease him about you. Truly, a prince deserving of your attention.

"Hello. Have you come to watch us again?" Riddle asked with no particular emotion behind his voice. Surely, he knew what was coming by now. No need to ask such foolish questions.

"No, I came to ride your horse with you. You should know that by now." You are equally calm and collected in your own request. You try to put on your most cute, charming smile to lure him in.

You have been getting close to Vorpal, since you knew some horses are untrusting of unfamiliar riders. You researched every known piece of horse-related literature you could get your hands on in the library just to impress Riddle with horse facts. You're very prepared.

"You..." Riddle sighed.

"Just let her." Silver placed a hand on Riddle's shoulder, probably getting a little sick of your nagging too.

"...Fine, if I must." Riddle said after a short pause and you damn near passed out from excitement right then and there.

"As you should. I cannot believe you made me wait this long." You kept it casual on the outside, not wanting to let your excitement show too much.

Once you were properly sat on the horse with Riddle behind you, you felt like you achieved something great. You still almost can't believe how many refusals it took for this to happen. But a princess always gets what she wants in the end.

"Just don't be tense. Horses can sense that and it puts them in distress." He instructed. When you turned back and smiled cheekily at him, you noticed his cheeks were pink.

"What is it, my prince?" you gave him puppy eyes.

"D-Do not call me that, or look at me like that. It's distracting." His face got even redder. Yikes, even Vorpal can sense that he's panicking right now.

₊˚⊹♡ Jack Howl

"Get me food. Something sweet." You crossed your arms, raising your chin smugly. This is a non-negotiable matter.

"I don't think I'm indebted to you right now." that was his gentler way of saying he's not doing it. Why he doesn't just straight up say "no" to you is a mystery. Perhaps he knows the proper way to respect a princess such as yourself.

You sighed in annoyance. Seems you have to pick up the charm.

"But Jaaaaack, I'm just so hungry!~ And I can't run around in my pretty heels..." you put on your best puppy dog eyes. Surely, you can convince your future prince to do a simple favour for you.

Future prince...

The fact that wolf beastmen have one partner for life has been keeping you up at night, in both a good way and bad way. That means once you get him hooked, he's there for life, BUT! He can easily get stolen away by another and then you lose all your chances.

Truly, a challenge befitting of someone like you. That's why you're hanging around him so much.

"You know, you make it really hard for me to say no sometimes." Jack scratches the back of his head. "Doesn't mean you succeeded this time, though." he smirks slightly at you.

You would squeal (internally) over his smirk if you didn't feel slightly dissapointed right now. Oh well, you suppose you can't demand everything from your future prince. He is your equal, after all.

Upon seeing your slightly sad face, something bubbled up within him. It doesn't look right.

"I'll go get it. Do you want anything in particular?" he got up suddenly.

"Huh? Jack, you don't have to. I changed my mind." He felt a strange sense of unease to see you acting so... gently. It wasn't a bad thing neccesarily, it just felt wrong. And besides, you'd never 'change your mind' about sweets. He knows you enough to know that.

"I'll still do it.... Not because I feel bad, though. Don't get the wrong idea." he huffed, turning away before you could notice the slight pink dusting his cheeks.

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Heeey sweetie ! I hope you’re well !! I always look forward to your posts and check your page daily for updates ! Your writing is incredible and always leaves me with butterflies in my stomach !! I wanted to leave a request if that’s okay ! I was thinking about mob Bucky with grumpy-sunshine trope !? Bucky being the grumpiest little shit ! He’s arrogant and stares too much . But then he meets this ray of sunshine and she’s the only one to get him soft ! She’s the only one that can coax a smile out of him ! Gives her the gentlest touches and sweetest kisses ! He’s proud to have her next to him and loves how much smaller she looks compared to his massive size . Even tho he’s dominant in bed , he’s still careful and considerate with her ! Fluffy fluff with a big intimidating man

YESS Omg i love this so much its adorable. (18+, cause there’s fluffy fluff but also smutty smut)

Disclaimer: I love fics where Bucky loves his much smaller reader compared to his larger size but I do my best to not describe the readers size too much because I want anyone to be able to imagine themselves in my fics. When I write, Bucky is obsessed over how he can just easily scoop you up into his arms and toss you over his shoulder effortlessly.

First time meeting you I just imagine you both meet in the most wholesome way as well. He's truly the grumpiest shit anyone's ever met. Arrogant and cocky but he’s earned his reputation so no one dares question it. That being said, he has some principals, one of them being that family always comes first. He takes that very seriously. That's why he's out and about, looking for a present for Sam’s daughter’s birthday, hand picked himself (and by present, we’re talking presents plural, he already bought her a custom gold engraved locket and an Hermes baby blanket, no godchild of his would get any less).

Still, he wanted to give her more, wandering into a little book shop at the corner of the street that appeared to be empty. His men stood outside the door while he scanned the shelfs, huffing in frustration because there were so many choices and it would have been easier to just buy the all the books. He picked up a book and set it down, the store probably wouldn’t cost too much-

"Can I help you?"

A sweet voice called him from behind and Bucky was ready to give the person hell, he hated sales people. Most people. Honestly all people. Except Steve. He'd maybe pee on Sam if he was on fire but that was as far as his love for him went. (its all a front, he loves Sam).

He turned around, about to tell whoever it was, to fuck off, blinking instead when he came face to face with you. You smiled up at him, eyes twinkling, setting down the pile of books you had in your arms to look at the shelf he was browsing.

“What age group are you looking for?”

Bucky hardly registered your words, staring at what looked like the human form of a cute little garden fairy straight out of a fairytale. You were in a blush pink sundress, covered in tiny flowers, standing on your tippy toes trying to reach the books higher on the shelf. Garden fairy, what the fuck was wrong with him, he shook his head trying to regain his train of thought.

“Uh- a baby?” Bucky didn’t know what to do with himself, most people took his staring as a sign to go away but you seemed unbothered.

"Oh! Come with me, there’s a great section at the back, I’ll show you!” You happily led the 6′4 mob boss to the kids corner at the back of the store, colorful drawings, plush rugs and little bean bags covered the area.

“Any of these would be great for a little one” You pointed to the shelves that were low to the ground, pulling out a few and handing them to him “let me know if you see anything you like” with that, you went back to putting books away. You returned a few minutes later, biting back a smile, looking at the tall man covered head to toe in dark ink, diligently reading through one of the books you handed to him.

"You look so cute" You giggled, looking at Bucky sitting on one of the tiny chairs, his long legs sprawled out in front of him.

"Cute?" Bucky had never been more insulted in his life, of all things to describe him, how dare you tell him he looked cute.

“Of course” You grinned as you walked over and sat down beside him. The gentle sweet scent of your perfume evaded his senses, his heart jumped when he felt your warm hand brush against his. Bucky didn’t know why his heart was racing, he didn’t like it. His brows furrowed, trying to stop the blush that spread across his face when he saw your smile.

“Do you like that one?” Bucky nodded, looking at the cover of the book; two bears sitting together looking at the moon. “I love you to the moon and back, its such a sweet book, I would have picked this one too”

Bucky nodded again, not trusting himself to speak around you. You took the book to the front to check him out. After he paid, you placed a little brown bear that matched the ones on the book cover in the bag as well. Bucky cocked his head confusedly, reaching for his wallet again.

“How much?”

“Just take it as part of the gift” You smiled, tying a ribbon around the handles of the bag. “I’m sure they’ll love it. Have a good day!” You gave him a little wave as he walked out, turning back to your books, while Bucky felt his insides melt.

The pretty girl at the book store thinks I’m cute.

Bucky slid into his SUV, the corner of his lips twitching, his cheeks dusted pink. You thought he was cute. Cute. He continued to bite his bottom lip, fighting with his face muscles to keep from smiling, failing miserably instead.

“Is he having a stroke”

Sam whispered, staring at Bucky through the rearview mirror while he sat at the front with Steve. Bucky’s face continued to twitch, trying to keep his classic scowl on his lips.

“I think he’s smiling” snorted, cocking an eyebrow watching Bucky carefully inspect the little brown bear you put in the bag.

“He knows how to smile?”

“You good punk?” Steve called out, smirking when Bucky stuffed the bear back in the bag, pretending he wasn’t giving it heart eyes while thinking about you. “You looked real cozy talking to the girl at that the bookstore”

“Shut up” He ignored his two friends snickering, throwing them a growl before thinking about you again.

She thinks I’m cute.

After that meeting, imagine Bucky finds himself going back for more and more books; he doesn’t even have time to read but he can’t help it. Every time he steps into your bookstore, its like sliding into a comfy blanket. He’s addicted to your sweet smile; your always there with a new book for him to read. He can’t help but smile every time he sees you flit around the shelves, he felt like he was living in his own fairytale.

The first kiss

Bucky watched you huff in frustration, trying to put a book back on the shelf but it was too high for you to reach.

“Um-could-would you please help me put this back?” You asked shyly, while Bucky smiled, nodding and coming up behind you, his hand gently holding your waist, placing the book on top with ease. His tall form towered over you, his chest brushing against your as you turned and looked up at him.

“Th-thank you” you whispered, your eyes flicking from his blue eyes to his pink lips. His lips were curved in a soft smile that gave you butterflies; it wasn’t often that you saw him smile but it seemed he did it whenever he was close to you.

“You look handsome when you smile” You squeaked, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as the words slipped through. Bucky bit his lip, while you looked away embarrassed you had said that out loud. “Sorry I didn’t mean-”

You gasped, feeling him pull you closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up to look at him. His head dipped down slightly and you felt your body moving on its own, standing on your tippy toes to be closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his nose nudging against yours. You nod, letting out a shuddered breath as his hand cupped your cheek, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. You hesitantly moved your arms to wrap around his shoulders, melting into his touch.

You didn’t know how much time had passed, staying tucked in his arms, having waited ages for him to finally make a move. When he finally has to leave, he comes running back in mere seconds later.

“Did you forget something?”

Bucky nodded, his hands wrapping around you waist, pulling you close to him again, his lips kissing you softly as ever.

“I wanted another kiss”

That kiss turned into lots of kisses. Lingering hugs. When he finally brings you to his home, he keeps you his little secret for a while so he can enjoy your company. You bring out a softness in him he didn’t know was possible; soft fluffy dates with him cooking for you, or going on evening strolls. You’re his everything, he loves seeing his little garden fairy comfy in his home. You made everything warmer; the soft scent of candles always traveled down the halls; sweet baked goodies were always ready in the kitchen. Sam and Steve were definitely not complaining, pretending they didn’t notice Bucky’s classic grumpy face now also came with a cute little blush on his cheeks.

The first time they meet you

Imagine Bucky’s team finally find the mole they’d been hunting for months. They’re all riled up, throwing him into the van, threatening him within an inch of his life. They know Bucky likes to take care of business himself but it doesn’t stop them from warning him about the pure wrath he’s going to face.

“You’re fucked”

“You thought we were bad? You’re gonna wish your mom swallowed you”

They drag him up the steps, bursting into his office, expecting Bucky to be waiting there with his knife twirling between his fingers.

Instead...

Bucky’s men all stared at each other before looking at the sweet thing that was sitting in their bosses lap, feeding him pastries. Bucky grinned like a love struck puppy, cradling you to his chest while he sat on his office chair, moaning at the sweet caramel melting on his tongue. The last thing they expected to see was a delicate thing like you cuddled up with who they thought was a blood thirsty gang leader.

Sam snorted, shaking his head, watching Bucky ignore the rest of them, his eyes still trained on you, peppering kisses onto your cheek.

“Motherfucker, are you eating butter tarts right now?”

“They taste good” Bucky shrugged, giving you one final sweet kiss to your lips before looking up at his team.

“Why don’t you wait for me in my room, I’ll be there soon” Bucky pressed a soft kiss onto your temple, helping you off his lap. You smiled, brushing some of his hair back, kissing his forehead.

“Come soon bubba” Your bare feet padded through his office, giving the towering men a quick wave as you passed them “Hi Sam, Hi Steve!”

Sam blinked, before grinning and giving you a friendly wave back.

“She is adorable, fucks she doing with you”

“Shut the fuck up bird brain” Bucky panned, a growl emitting from his chest, as he rounded the table, his previous soft demeanor dropping as soon as his eyes landed on the mole. “Have Steve keep him quiet, my angel doesn’t have to hear this shit”

After Bucky’s men saw how soft he was for you, you become their secret weapon. You’re always there to soften the blow they’d face, making him smile even when delivering the worst news.

“Boss, the deliveries were seized” Peter trembles at the door, while Bucky’s nostrils flare, he’s about to tell everyone off, but his anger dissipates as soon as your head pops into the room.

“Bucky, come cuddle?” You push past the men, your hands draping around his shoulders.

“They put you up to this, didn’t they?” Bucky snorted, rubbing his temples, melting as soon as you crawled into his lap. You giggled innocently, kissing his scruffy cheek while he lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to his room.

“Hmm, they’re lucky you’re so sweet babygirl”

The first time

For months, Bucky didn’t do anything more than give you soft kisses, hugs and cuddles. He wanted you, he needed you in a way he never thought was possible, but he didn’t want to rush anything. You were special and if he was going to be intimate with you, it’d be whenever you were ready.

He never wanted to pressure you into anything, but you reassured him you wanted this. Bucky swallowed thickly, looking at your smaller form curled up against his bed waiting for him. You looked so sweet and delicate, wearing just one of his shirts, nervously fidgeting with your hands while he crawled up the bed to you.

“Are you sure about this prinţesă?” He kissed your knee, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb; you felt your face heat up and the name he had for you, nodding without meeting his eyes. “Look at me baby” He tilted your chin to meet his gaze, “I won’t be upset if you want to wait”

You knew he meant it. Not once had he ever made you feel like doing something you didn’t want. His sweetness only made you want him more.

“I want this, I-I want you” you whispered, moaning softly when his lips pressed against yours. He kissed you softly, his hand moving to your waist to lay you down against the pillows. He was on top of you, nipping your jaw, peppering kisses down your neck, his hand caressing the side of your thigh.

Being with you was different.

He natural instinct had always been rough and fast; clothes torn, no build up.

He didn’t want that with his pretty doll. Yet.

He slowly undressed you, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare underneath him. He continued to kiss you while still being fully dressed, chuckling when he felt you squirm under him.

“What is it baby?” He cocked his head, picking up on what you wanted when you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt but he didn’t want to give in, enjoying your flustered state.

“I-um” You fisted his shirt, burning under his gaze, “Take it off”

“Take what off?” He cocked his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his pretty lips.

“Ugh, I want to see you naked Bucky” You pouted, burying your face into his neck while he grinned, bringing your hands to unbutton his shirt.

“Whatever my babydoll wants, go ahead prinţesă, m’all yours” You squeaked when he pulled you and rolled over so you were straddled on top of him, his hands stroking your bare waist and thighs.

“Want you to take it off babygirl” He couldn't take his eyes off you as you shakily undid his tie, moving to his buttons next. As soon as his shirt was off, you managed to unbuckle his belt and tug off his pants. You blinked at his thick cock straining against his briefs.

Bucky brought his fingers to rub though your soaked folds, groaning at the slick that easily coated his fingers.

“Will you let me taste you?”

“I-no one’s ever-

“I’ll be gentle baby, promise it’ll feel good” Bucky laid you on your back as he worshipped your body, trailing kisses down your skin, while you hesitantly parted your legs, his thick, wide shoulders forcing them apart further.

“So pretty baby” Bucky groaned, kissing your clit, his lips sealing around your clit, sucking softly, careful not to apply too much pressure. “You have the sweetest clit doll”

He could feel his cock throb against the mattress at the way your face contorted, soft whine slipping past your lips as you tried to keep your moans down. He pushed a finger in, gently stretching you out, while you started to grow needy, your hips shifting under him. He pulled away, his beard glistening with your arousal, eyes heavy with lust.

“Want to be inside you prinţesă”

You nodded, while he threw his briefs off, his cock standing tall and proud as he hovered above you.

“Bucky, it-it won’t fit” You whispered, watching his thick cock bob between his legs, grazing on your clit.

“We’ll make it fit baby” His hand gently cupped your face, while your legs moved up to hug his waist. “Tell me if its too much and I’ll stop” He moved his cock through your folds, groaning at how you felt on the tip of his cock.

“Ready?” You nodded, gasping feeling his thick blunt tip prod against your soaked entrance.

“Jaames...” You whimpered feeling him stretch you while he kissed your forehead, stopping his movements with just the tip inside you.

“Shhh angel, it’s just me sweet girl” Your body trembled under his, biting down onto his shoulder as he pushed himself further while holding your body close to his. You were still getting used to the burn and stretch of him as he buried himself to the hilt, clinging onto him while he stayed still.

“I know baby” Bucky stroked your forehead, brushing your hair away from your face, kissing your cheeks. He felt a new type of feral, his sweet girl under him, whining and whimpering over his cock, your pussy dripping around him.

“S’too big Bucky” You bit your lip, your pretty doe eyes locked with his.

“My cocks too big for you baby?” Bucky cooed, while you nodded, throbbing at your nails digging into his skin “Your pussy’s too tight, huh angel, you need me to go slow?”

There was something addicting over how hard Bucky was trying to hold back, his brows furrowed, cock already leaking into you. He started off slow, gentle thrusts, letting you adjust, telling you how perfect you were, his hands laced with yours, pinned against the bed.

“Taking my cock like such a good girl baby”

“You know how pretty you look right now doll?”

You felt the burn start to melt, your moans growing louder while he pushed his entire length in and out of you, his bally smacking against your ass.

“M-more Bucky, please?”

Bucky’s breaths grew heavy, feeling his spine tingle already, you had a different affect on him, his cock already throbbing.

“You’re beautiful prinţesă”

“Could make love to you like this for hours my baby”

“Taking me so well babydoll, making my cock throb, you’re so tight”

He craved so much more of your warmth, his pace speeding up, moaning and grunting each time you cried out. He gripped onto the head board as he started to pound you, the sounds of skin slapping carrying through the room.

“F-uck baby, you feel so good” He moaned into your neck, the muscles on his back tensed as he fucked you harder. “Am-am I too rough sweet girl”

“F-feels g-good James” You cried out from under him, your walls starting to flutter as he hit your g-spot. Bucky moaned, his forehead coming down to rest on yours, lips parted and brushing against each other. “Bucky, harder, please”

The sound your moaning his name made him almost cum on the spot.

“Oh fuck don’t stop, tell me it feels good baby, tell me how bad you want it, keep saying my name”

“JAMESS” The headboard practically slammed against the wall as he abandoned all softness, the both of you feral over each other, chasing your highs.

“Tell me how good my cock makes you feel baby” His hand snaked between your bodies, rubbing and teasing your clit, making you nearly sob.

“S’good Bucky, stretching me, I- fuck m’gonna cum!”

“Cum my gorgeous girl, CUM” “JAMES-I-F-FUCK” You clenched around his cock, cumming and squirting around him while he roared, his pace stuttering as he spilled ropes of cum into you. You both held onto each other, moaning and panting as you came down from your orgasm, your body still convulsing feeling his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck I love you” He panted against your skin, pressing sloppy kisses all over your face. He had a goofy grin, sweeping you into his arms to run you a hot bath.

(Which was a waste of time, considering he spent the rest of the night with you, making an utter sticky mess in his bed)

Bonus: The first tattoo (dedicated to you)

Most of Bucky’s body is covered in dark ink, but none of his pieces were done impulsively. Each piece had a meaning behind it, and his latest one was his favorite.

“Close your eyes baby” He picked you up and placed you on his desk, unbuttoning his shirt while you impatiently waited for him to tell you, you could look. “Alright, open”

“A fairy?” You gasped, looking at his newest piece, your fingers gently tracing over his chest. Above his heart, was his latest piece, a little fairy reading a book while sitting on the moon.

“From when I first met you. I thought you were like a little garden fairy” Bucky blushed, kissing your nose. “Could never get enough of you, the only little fairy to think I’m cute”

Tears stung your eyes, sniffling while he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled against his skin, kissing his chest.

“You like it baby?” His thumbs swiped across your cheeks, stroking your hair while you nodded, struggling to formulate words.

“I-I love y-ou” You choked out, hugging him tighter

“I adore you sweet girl, love you to the moon and back”

Tags:

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pitchsidestories · 6 months

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Baby It's Cold Outside II Alessia Russo x Reader

a/n: based off this request. We hope you enjoy a wintery oneshot.

masterlist I word count: 1602

Alessia Russo’s eyes were still closed as she discovered that your bed side was already empty: “Babe..?” It did not take you too long to come back to you and your girlfriend’s shared bedroom. You beamed at her excitedly: “Lessi, it snowed over night!” “Come back. It’s cold.”, the striker demanded, shivering from the temperature you brought from outside. Amused you asked her:” Don’t you want to go and see the snow?” “No, I want to stay in bed and cuddle.”, Alessia replied with a crooked smile. Grinning you remarked: “You don’t want to leave the bed, huh?” “No, it’s so warm and comfy.”, the blonde shook determined her head.

An innocent smile was forming on your lips while you proposed:” What if we go downstairs to the fireplace?” “But you want to go out into the snow, right?” “Yes, I’ll let our little puppy out and when we can cuddle on the sofa, okay?”, you admitted, already looking for the tiny golden retriever. Quickly Alessia got up from the bed: “Wait, I’ll get dressed.” “So, you do want to join us for a little walk in the snow?”, you realized happily. She confirmed with a nod: “Yes, I’m coming.” “Perfect.”, you mumbled.

During the time the English forward was changing into some comfy clothes you put on a leash on your very excited puppy.

Outside the nature was covered in a snowy white blanket which made it look like a scene straight from a fairytale your parents were reading to you when you were a child. But even fairytales did have a darker side to them and Alessias mood has been a bit down the recent days as you noticed.

Worried you turned to her:” Do you want to talk about what kept you up at night?” “Oh no, it’s fine.”, the taller woman shrugged her shoulders and tried hard to keep her tone light. Unconvinced by her reaction you begun: “Alessia..” “It’s stupid.”, the forward seemingly waved off your concern. Encouragingly you slipped your hand into hers: “You can still tell me, you know I won’t judge you.” “I know you won’t.”, she softly sighed. You waited out for her to further explain what has been going on in her brain:“So?”

“It’s just the pressure.”, Alessia answered honestly. Attentively you questioned her:“At the club?” “Everywhere.” The sad look on your girlfriends face touched you deeply, so you tried to mend her worries: “I know they want you to be the next Kelly Smith for Arsenal or the next Ellen White for England, but you know what?”

Alessia looked up. She was absentmindedly touching the snow on the bushes you passed. “What?” “You‘re best when you‘re you.”, you smiled encouragingly at your girlfriend. She rubbed the snow between her fingers until it melted, the corner of her mouth quirked up; “Thanks, love.” “You‘re welcome.” “I‘m just happy to have the day off.”, she admitted. You nodded thoughtfully; “Breaks are important.” Your girlfriend hummed in agreement but your attention was caught by a pile of freshly fallen snow.

You bent down to pick some up and shape it into a ball. It left your hands cold and tingly. Alessia watched you cautiously; “What are you doing?” You turned back to her with innocent eyes; “Distracting you for a bit.” And then you threw the ball. It hit Alessia right in the chest.

She squealed in surprise and looked down at the wet stain on her jacket; “Ew, stop that!” “Oh, come on.”, you laughed, happy to see her smile return. She pointed a warning finger in your direction; “I‘ll get you back!” “Try it!”, you teased. As you expected, your girlfriend grabbed a handful of snow and made her own snowball. Her eyes narrowed as she targeted you.

The snowball hit you on your shoulder as you tried to turn away, leaving bits of snow all over your clothes. “Got you!”, Alessia cheered happily. “Damn it.”, you cursed to yourself. When you turned your face back to your girlfriend, she already had both hands full of snow again and was coming towards you. “Oh no! No snow in my neck, please!”, you pleaded and tried to wriggle away from her as she tried to stuff the snow inside your jacket.

The coldness on your throat made you gasp. “Sorry. Here‘s some more.”, Alessia laughed, putting new snow in the collar of your jacket. You softly pushed her away with a shriek. You could feel pieces of snow slide down your clothes, directly on your skin. You almost immediately started shivering; “S-so c-cold.” “It‘s just snow. You wanted to go outside.”, your girlfriend shrugged but still wrapped you up in her arms while she carefully guided you to continue your walk. “Yes but someone obviously wanted to speed up this little walk so we can get cozy again.”, you replied, giving her deprecating look. Her ice-blue eyes blinked at you with innocence; “I don‘t know what you mean.” ”You do know that!” She rolled her eyes and sighed, her breath visible as a small cloud in the cold; “Let‘s go or I‘ll hit you with another snowball.”

“Is that the Italian side of you speaking?, you joked before continuing, we’re going, I could need a hot shower when we’re home though.” With a cheeky grin on her face Alessia agreed: “Oh yes, me too.” “We can do it together.”, you suggested with a playfully seductive smile. The striker winked at you: “Yes, so you can’t use up the hot water.”

A couple of minutes later you two hurried up the stairs on the way to your bathroom. Relieved you turned to your girlfriend as you reached the door: “Let’s get in there.” “Coming.”, the blonde whispered into your ear. Apologetically you looked down to your puppy:” No, little one, you’ve to stay outside the bathroom.” “Sorry.”, Alessia stroking the golden retriever’s fur before getting inside. Still, you promised your pet: “We’ll be right back.”

After you took a shower together you were entering the living room with two hot chocolates in your hands. The light of the fire was turning the scenery in front of your eyes into a warm glow. Cheerfully the taller woman remarked: “That smells so good.” “It tastes even better.”, you told her. “Thank you, love.” “Here you go.”, you handed your girlfriend her cup. She closed her eyes as she was taking her first sip:” It’s perfect.” “Agreed.”, you nodded. Her eyes twinkled as she pointed out: “That’s better than being out in the cold.”

From the sofa you had an excellent view into your little back garden, delighted you couldn’t suppress a little squeal: “It started snowing again.” “You’re right.”, Alessia admitted but she couldn’t take her eyes from you as she enjoyed seeing you this happy about such a small thing. Enchanted by what you saw you said: “It looks so beautiful.” “You really love the snow, huh?”, your girlfriend asked as she was covering you both with a cozy blanket.

Dreamily you reminisced: “I do. It reminds me of the winters in Norway.” “Missing it?”, the striker wanted to know from you. Truthfully you replied: “Sometimes.” “Sorry.. maybe I can ask your mum for some Norwegian recipes, and we can bake something together soon.”, Alessia suggested. If you were not warm already due to the soft blanket and her warm embrace, you’d be by those words now:” You’d do that? That’s really sweet of you. Maybe we can make a menu out of it? Main dish Italian and the dessert Norwegian?” “Sounds delicious.”

“Oh yes. Looks like the little one is sleeping again.”, you draw her attention to your asleep puppy which lay right in the middle of you two. Lovingly Alessia glanced at the golden retriever:“He’s so cute.”

You nodded in agreement; “True.“ Alessia set her mug down on the coffee table in front of you. You could feel her shift next to you. Her head ended up on the arm rest of the sofa.

With a smile you realized that her eyelids were already half closed. Smiling, you reached over your dog to carefully rub her leg; “You can sleep too, love.“ Alessia shook her head, opening her eyes again; “No. I want to enjoy my free day with you.“ But her statement was immediately followed by a yawn. “It’s okay, you need that rest.“

Your girlfriend stretched out her arms towards you; “Come here.“ “Coming.“ Slowly you moved your dog to the other side of the sofa to not wake him up but the walk must have exhausted him as much as your girlfriend. When you finally sat right beside her, she put her arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug on top of her.

She sighed with content, her eyes falling shut again; “Is it too early to watch a Christmas movie yet?“ “No, I’ll put something on, don’t move.“, you laughed, temporarily exiting the hug and reaching over to the coffee table to get the remote. “Thanks.“, Alessia yawned as you picked the cheesiest Christmas movie you could find, knowing that your girlfriend will only be able to watch the first few minutes.

You ignored what happened on screen, your attention was on Alessia who was adamant to keep her eyes open. Slowly but surely, she had to give in, her breathing slowing down. You pressed a quick kiss to her forehead; “Sleep well, love.“ “Not asleep…“, she mumbled tiredly. You nodded with a grin; “Sure.“

The snow continued falling but you just couldn’t take your eyes off your girlfriend. She hadn’t looked this relaxed in weeks.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #engwnt #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #alessia russo imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women #lionesses #woso oneshot #awfc #engwnt x reader

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callie-the-creator · 4 months

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being bigby wolf’s mate would include… (sfw and nsfw)

nsfw below the cut. mdni. warnings: tried to make the reader as gender-neutral as possible, mentions of jealous, creampie, heat cycles, aggressive smut, biting, etc.

author’s note: i cannot wait for the second game to be released. i’m so excited! 💗

sfw:

• you are one of bluebeard’s ex-partners, having escaped him and avoided decapitation in the old days. sadly though, you didn’t get to meet bigby when he was in his prime— only heard stories and legends about him— until you along with all the other fables moved from the homelands to the mundy world.

— more specifically, you were brought into questioning since you knew a thing or two about brutality against women (which is exactly what was happening with the working girls at the pudding & pie, like faith) and you helped snow and bigby’s investigation at times…

• that’s how you two acquainted yourselves.

• it should also go without saying that you are filthy rich and since you’ve grown an attachment to sheriff bigby, you came to find out that he lives in the smallest apartment in the woodlands, you’ve invited him over to your place countless times at the beginning of your relationship so he can get out of that crowded space and sleep in an actual bed.

— that and colin can be a real pain in the ass. it’s good for bigby to be away from him, even if it is for a few days.

• bigby always found you to be attractive. it was a bit part of your fairytale back in the homelands, but he tried not to show his attraction toward you…but it was hard for others not to pick on the big bad wolf after they see him tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, helping you out of cars, holding doors for you, having a special soft spot for you, all sorts of chivalrous shit.

• you two ended up being a thing a few days after the investigation about faith and the crooked man came to an end. more specifically, you were outside with bigby when all of a sudden you were pushed by a mundy and you lost your footing. luckily, bigby was able to catch you and pull you close to him, cursing the blatant rudeness of the mundy, under his breath before checking up on you to see if you were okay.

— then, what followed was you two looking deeply into one another’s eyes before you wrapped a hand around bigby’s tie and pulled him closer, kissing the sheriff.

nsfw:

• i want to say that bigby’s libido is average. nothing too unbearable, but as soon as spring rolls around, it does a complete 180° and bigby becomes the epitome of needy.

— during this time, he can be a bit rough, he gets way more animalistic than usual and there are times when bigby takes a brief vacation from work just so he can pound you all day, leaving you unable to walk on your own.

— his favorite thing to do is to put you into a mating press, so he can penetrate you deeper as he fills your hole with his cum. the alternative, of course, is him mounting you.

• he always wants to be able to mark you, in some way, whether that be by leaving bite/scratch marks all over your body or hickeys. it’s bigby’s way of telling the world that you’re already taken and satisfied sexually.

• it’s hard to hide whenever you’re in the mood from bigby because of how strong his sense of smell is. once he catches a whiff of your arousal, he almost loses all strength in his body, his mouth watering, but if he’s in a public setting, it takes every fiber of his being to go against of his instincts and you know the power you hold over him at times like this because of the way bigby stares at you, raptured with barely contained lust.

• it’s only when bigby regains his senses, he apologizes for being so rough on you (he is scared that because of how rough he can be, he’s a terrible mate and you’ll want to leave him for someone better). soooo…he tries his hardest to make it up to you by doing whatever you want him to, amping up his arm, and overall being super gentle and sweet.

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iamasimperyk · 27 days

Note

A good fic idea maybe his ex wife comes over and the reader is over and the wife goes crazy saying that her and rafe are talking again or spent the night together and he’s not home so she leaves because she doesn’t want to start anything so rafe has to find the reader

Sorry that I couldn’t work on your request earlier but I hope you still like what I made out of it!💕

Crazy Ex -Rafe Cameron

Warnings: Manipulation, naive reader, angst, assumption of cheating, English is not my first language, not proof read

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

You have never had a problem with the fact that Rafe had already been married once. You met him at work, and the two of you immediately had some kind of connection. You were the complete opposite of his ex-wife, maybe that was what drew him towards you.

After months of talking, you two got into a relationship, and you were nothing but happy. Rafe loved you, and you loved him, it was like a fairytale.

But in every fairytale, there was a villain, and the villain in your story was Rafe's ex-wife. She tried to get him back on multiple occasions, but Rafe just turned her down.

Today, Rafe was on a business trip, leaving you alone at Tannyhill. Exhausted, you lay on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around your body as you watched one of your favorite movies.

You let out a yawn when the doorbell suddenly rang. With a small frown, you stood up, walking to the front door before you carefully opened it.

There she was. Rafe's ex-wife. 5'7 feet tall, platin blonde hair, curves at the right place, expensive clothes, and an annoyed look on her face. You looked down at yourself, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, suddenly feeling insecure about your own appearance.

"Well, hello," She smirked down at you, "I see, Rafe, still didn't get rid of you."

You slightly gulped, "Rafe is not here. He is in Tennessee."

"Well, that's what he told you, but what if I tell you that we started talking again." Her smirk was even bigger than before.

"He would never do that. We both know that." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Why don't you take a look at his location, sweetie?" She told you.

Immediately, you started chewing on your lower lip, a thing you always did when you were nervous. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his location. He was at hers.

"Told you. Why don't you start packing your shit? I will move in again in a few days." She hissed, walking towards her car before she drove off.

After a small breakdown at the front door, you packed your most important stuff and left.

You didn't even text Rafe. You just wanted to be alone and at peace.

----

The next day Rafe came home.

"Y/n, I am back." He smiled, waiting for you to run downstairs, but you never did. He started to shout your name again and again until he finally realized you were gone.

Quickly, he called you, but you didn't pick up. After he sent you hundreds of messages, he thought about checking your location.

Your parents' house. Of course.

He ran to his car and drove to their house.

Your mom opened the door, wanting to shut it as soon as she saw him, "Y/m/n, please, I need to talk to her." He pleaded, still not knowing what he did wrong.

"But she doesn't want to talk to you." Your mother replied angrily.

After a few seconds of silence, you appeared behind her, "It's okay, Mom."

"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes not leaving Rafe.

You gave her a small nod, and she disappeared into the living room.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked desperately.

"Because I didn't wanna talk to you." You simply answered.

Rafe looked at you, taking a step closer, "What did I do?"

"You lied to me about your trip to Tennessee." You mumbled.

He quickly shook his head, "No, why would you say this?"

"Oh, please, I saw your location. You were at your ex-wife's." You started to fiddle with your fingers.

Rafe's eyes widen, "You have to believe me when I tell you I never was there after we divorced."

"I saw it with my own eyes. She came when you were gone and-" You started, but Rafe was quick to interrupt you.

"She came when I was gone? Just to tell you that I am at her place?" He asked, and you just nodded.

"Don't you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" He sighed, and you finally started to think about the situation.

"B-but she-" You started but couldn't find the right words.

"I don't know how she faked my location, but I promise I never lied to you. I love you." He smiled a little, wrapping his arms around you.

"I am so stupid. I am sorry." You mumbled, feeling extremely guilty to believe his manipulative ex-wife.

"It's okay, just don't run away the next time she tells you shit." He chuckled.

"Promise," You kissed him, "Oh, and I have to make sure my parents won‘t kill you.“

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #obx #outer banks #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x reader #outerbanks rafe #angst

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nburkhardt · 3 months

Text

Every Time You Shine, I’ll Shine For You.

Soooo this was originally going to be full one shot, but I’ve decided since it’s been sitting in my drafts for months, that I’m just going to post it as either an unfinished piece for now. I might try to come up with a second half but for now enjoy this soulmate au ✨

Having a soulmark wasn’t necessary for Steve. Sure, seeing the word- the nickname his soulmate will eventually call him is nice. But it’s not needed, not in his eyes at least.

At the age of five years old, everyone in the world gets a nickname on their wrist. It’s fate telling you your perfect match, that the other half of your soul is out there for you. It’s the ultimate fairytale growing up, that it burns when you hear the nickname said by your soulmate and there’s an instant spark, instant connection. It’s the bedtime story, the ultimate love story and something to wish for.

It’s a wish everyone wants but Steve Harrington.

He has a very good reason to not like the idea of having a “perfect match” out there for you. While he heard the stories and sees the potential in it, he grew up watching his parents be in love without being actual soulmates. Hears stories of their love and ideas of finding love on your own, deciding to show the world that they don’t need fate’s help.

It’s beautiful and he wants that. Wants to make his own story, find his own match. There’s no need for fate to help him.

On his fifth birthday, he watched ‘Dingus’ appear on his wrist, it made him pout while his parents laughed and kiss his head, told him not to worry. That he doesn’t have to be with whoever fate picked for him and joked about only being five.

It eases his five year old mind.

His parents aren’t surprised to watch him grow up to be a true romantic, isn’t surprised to see his love in everything and how having a soul mark doesn’t stop him from having crushes or falling in love.

Life goes on but after some failed relationships and the disaster of a relationship with Nancy; seeing the nickname give him some hope that somewhere out there, there is someone for him. Someone who fate decided is his match, which growing up he hated it.

At eighteen, he really thought he’d already be with the person he’d love forever (and who would love him). But instead of that, he’s single and not at all close to figuring out why fate’s pick for him would call him “dingus” of all things. To top it all of he’s stuck working at the new Scoops Ahoy until he hears back from the colleges he applied too.

The uniform is lame, it’s in the middle of the brand new mall and it’s leaning towards being too cold in the shop and he doesn’t even know his coworker yet, hopefully they’re not expecting him to be some big shot like he was in high school.

Those days are long gone, he’d rather be his lame and hopeless romantic self instead of the asshole keg king he was.

His first week of working is spent being laughed at by ex-teammates, being ignored by his only coworker and failing to get at least a date with someone. It’s not his longest week, but it’s real close.

After a total of three weeks of getting ignored and laughed at by people he flirts with, his coworker, Robin decides enough is enough and- “maybe with this you’ll try harder”

Glancing behind him, she’s standing there with the whiteboard from the back but instead of the random doodles she drew, it looks like a score board with You Rule/You Suck on it.

There’s already three tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and he can’t figure out if it makes him want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

Definitely both.

“At least I’m trying here, you could find your soulmate with flirting!”

Robin rolls her eyes and hangs the board up behind her, “I’d rather suck on a lemon than flirt with guys”

It surprises him for all of three seconds before he rolls his eyes, whatever, he thinks. If she wants to miss the opportunity to find a soulmate, so be it. He’ll continue trying to find love, he doesn’t need whoever fate picked.

The board is definitely mocking him, he thinks several days later. Currently there’s five tally marks under ‘You Suck’ and a big fat nothing under ‘You Rule’. Robin thinks it’s the funniest thing on the planet.

He doesn’t find it funny, he finds it embarrassing and stupid, actually. Really embarrassing, especially when she brings it out when another girl their age walks in. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Which is confusing, she told him explicitly that she does not like him and will only ever tolerate him. So, her practically chasing people away doesn’t make sense.

Her loud crackle of a laugh starts as his head nearly hits the counter, “That’s another one for the you suck column! Zero for the you rule, popeye!”

Standing up he turns around with a glare, “yeah I can read!”

“You sure about that one, Dingus?”

His wrist burns and he can’t stop his eyes from going wide. There’s no way, absolutely no way. This is a fluke, she must have seen his mark one day. That’s why his soulmate mate, fate’s pick, is his co-worker.

His disbelief and discomfort most show on his face because Robin shifts on her feet, “I’m uh, sorry. If I took that too far, really-uh I don’t think that way about you and, and- this is was” she looks uncomfortable now, tripping over her words.

Opening his mouth to calm her down, he find that his words are gone. The disbelief stopping him. He quickly shuts it and looks away from her. The shop is completely empty. When did that happen?

“Steve- I really didn’t mean to be well, mean.”

All he can do is nod back, “no, uh, I get it. Really- uh. It’s fine.”

How exactly is he supposed to do this? He’s never once called her a nickname! Unless she was his but he isn’t hers? He doesn’t know. Either way he’s still a little disappointed.

“You sure? Because uh, you’re looking a little pale there”

A laugh bubbles up and before he realizes it he’s on the ground with his back against the counter and tears on his face, “ye-yeah. Sorry.”

He hears her move around and then there’s a foot bumping his, he moves his head to look at her.

“We’re currently low on everything, did you know that? It’s unbelievable, just wiped clean.” Robin explains with amusement dancing on her face, “Scoops Ahoy is officially closed for the day”

That surprises a laugh out of him as tries to loosen the tension that built up, moving his arms he puts his chin on his knee, Robin copies him. They’re just looking at each other, comfortable in this silence.

“Sooo”

“Look-”

Their eyes meet and both burst out laughing. This feels different, at least for Steve. There’s something soothing coursing through him now, he never felt on edge with Robin but he wasn’t always this comfortable either. A smile spreading on his face, he didn’t know about this feeling when you meet your soulmate.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorts, “they might be worth more, Birdie”

Robin gasps and he looks at her, but her eyes are wide and locked on her wrist. He follows her look and he can’t exactly see what she’s looking at but he knows it’s her soul mark.

They really are soulmates.

This is where I’d put the continuation… if I had the idea for it! (Said in that fairlyodd parents meme)

Anyway! If this brought you some inspiration, you can totally take whatever piece you want and write something! But please know I had this ending up as Steddie with side of Rockie (Vickie&Robin)

Permanent taglist: @spectrum-spectre @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690 @strangersteddierthings

#platonic stobin #stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #nburkhardt writes #stranger things #stranger things fic #soulmate au #Steve has good parents as a bonus btw #it’s open ended to give me the chance to add more #if you see any typos no you don’t

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2knightt · 1 year

Note

IM SORRY, I KNOW U GOT A REQUEST ON THIS SO MUCH ALREADY BUT…

Your motherly!reader fics are so good 😭! can you pleasee do another? platonic with the gang!! no romance 🥰 thank youu ❤️❤️❤️ your work is amazing btw!

the gang x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.i did headcanons i hope thats okay😭

2.fem!reader

3.swearing and a small mention of violence.

Johnny Cade ;

like i’ve said before in other fics, he loves you so much.

honestly, you might be one of his favourite people!

when he walks down the street and he just so happens to see a cute flower, he picks it and gives it to you!

when he first met you, he refused to see you when he was injured in anyway. he thought you’d think he was weak and never see him again.

but as time went on, and you showed that you genuinely cared for him, he showed more of his vulnerable side.

johnny likes it when you patch him up now!

he thinks it’s calming, relaxing, and a, ‘nice change of things rather than lettin’ mother nature cure it.’

when he unknowingly/accidentally vents to you about his home life, he does get embarrassed.

he didn’t want you knowing, but when you hugged him real tight and told him sweet nothings?? he teared up ngl.

johnny wishes you could’ve been his mom.

when or if you have kids, johnny wishes they don’t take the, ‘how was your day?’ and the, ‘how’s school going?’ for granted.

because to johnny cade, that would be his perfect fairytale.

having someone as sweet as you to turn his life around, makes him excited to see tomorrow.

Dallas Winston ;

another bitch with mommy issues who is glad to have you.

mrs.curtis was definitely the mother he never had but always wanted and when she died, he was devastated.

but when you came along and started being that mother he missed??? he was both annoyed and over the moon.

he didn’t like that every time you bailed him out of jail, he got an ear full. however, he did like to know verbally that someone cared about him

he doesn’t show you any sort of affection, but he will tell you how he feels when drunk.

“thank you, so much y/n. i-i don’t know where i’d be without you.”

for mothers day, he doesn’t do anything special.

BUT—you didn’t hear this from me, before the clock hits 12, expect to hear like a cute little knock at your door, and open it to see a single flower on the ground with a pack of cigarettes.

dally ran off before you or anyone else could see him.

even though he didn’t sign his name, you knew it was from him. so, next time you see him, say thank you.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he’s like a toddler around you???

ponyboy definitely pretends to be like, your own bodyguard.

but really, who’s scared of ponyboy?

he tries though!

when he watches a movie and some character reminds him of you, expect that to be the first thing he tells you.

“ya know, when i went to the drive in, you really reminded of this one character.”

“oh? why’s that?”

“well because-“

and now you have to sit there and listen to him.

he’ll draw for you so much :(.

if you tell him your favourite flower, he WILL give you a drawing of it the next day. he’ll stay up all night if he has too!

Sodapop Curtis ;

he’s literally your #2 fan. first place goes to johnny.

he’s your biggest hypeman??? omg???

“gee, y/n! you’re lookin’ real fancy!! gonna get all the guys, eh?”

when ponyboy and darry argue and he just can’t take it anymore, he calls you and asks to come over.

and of course, you say yes everytime.

so please, PLEASE, just let him cry into your arms!!!!

when he’s done, he’ll try to go home but i’m begging you to tell him he’s welcomed to stay the night.

and if he does stay? ponyboy will be at your doorstep too.

he’ll share his famous chocolate cake with you!! he’ll make sure steve doesn’t touch it.

“STEVE THAT WAS FOR Y/N! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT! WE MAKE MAKE ONE TOGETHER! THE MORE PEOPLE THE FASTER THE CAKE WILL BAKE RIGHT?!”

“DO I LOOK LIKE A SCIENTIST??”

Darry Curtis ;

he is so thankful for you i legit can’t stress that enough.

you keep the gang in check, you keep ponyboy happy, and you help him around the house. what more could he ask for?

you legit force darry to relax while you look after the gang to make sure nothing bad happens.

“we’ll be fine, darry. go to bed, your dark circles are gettin’ darker by the minute.”

“yeah super-man! we’ll be fine with y/n!”

“yeah!!”

“fine, but if she wakes me up to tell me about any of you, so god help me.”

if you welcome him home with a newspaper and his favourite cup of coffee after a long day at work, he might ask you to move in.

Steve Randle ;

steve pretends that he doesn’t like you that much.

but he really does. like, the second he hears some soc threaten or insult you? he’s after them.

shit, he might be chasin’ after them in two-bits car while two-bit yells at the person.

he will legit go to war for you if you asked him nicely.

he will rant to you about cars if you let him😭.

he’ll rant to you about anything, honestly.

“and then the old bastard asked for a refund! the ‘no refunds’ sign was right on the door! how could that old bat not see it?!”

“steve! don’t call people that, but yes, it was very rude of that man to do that too you.”

“RIGHT?!”

Two-bit Matthews ;

he forces you to relax and watch mickey mouse with him.

he says it’s for your own good but when really, he just wants to spend time with you without the gang interrupting.

“guys! you’re stressing her out with all your STUPID questions! c’mon, y/n, mickey mouse is calling our names. can’t you hear it?”

“or maybe its the booze you had at 10AM.”

“i will sock you in your fucking throat steve.”

he plays with your hair…he finds it fun!

please tell him how to do some styles so he can go home and impress his little sister :(.

he offers you beer every once and awhile just so he can say he got you to loosen up.

“so y/n…you want some?”

“oh! no thank you, two. you know i don’t drink.”

he calls you mom in a joking way, ya dig?

“momm! steve called me a dumbass!”

“steve, be nice! apologize.”

“what the fuck?!”

author notes ;

1. i like totally rushed near the end LMFAO.

2. i never thought you bitches would eat motherly!reader up like this??

3.are you guys okay??

4.THANK U SWEETHEART OMFG??

5.i think theres no romance??

may 15th, 2023. 6:39PM

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve x reader #steve randle x reader #two bit x reader #two bit matthews x reader #platonic the outsiders #motherly!reader

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awfcspencer · 4 months

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Excessive || leah williamson x reader

leah williamson x reader

prompt: It is your daughter’s first Christmas and Leah absolutely spoils your daughter.

warnings: maybe slightly suggestive at the very end, mostly fluff though!

a/n: Short and sweet one for Christmas day, merry Christmas everyone! Hope everything went well today. Something about Leah and Christmas warms my heart.

The snow crunched softly under your feet as you enter yours and Leah’s shared home. You had ran out to grab a few last minute Christmas items for tomorrow. Opening the door, you can hear Leah’s voice echo through the house and the occasional babble from your daughter. Dumping the acquired bags from your minor trip in the kitchen and taking off your coat and gloves, you make your way towards the noise.

Your house was flooded with Christmas decor, twinkling lights hung from every corner. A large white tree with gold decorations and matching colored tinsel stood in the center of your living room, creating a fairytale setting. This was your daughter’s first Christmas as she born in late May. Everyone knew that Leah absolutely adores Christmas, it being her ultimate favorite holiday, so you already knew she was going to make your daughter’s day incredibly special, that combined with her first ever Christmas, she was in for a treat.

Hearing you enter the room, Leah faces the giggly baby your way before saying, “Look who is home!”. A large smile appears on your daughter’s face as she spots your return and makes an effort to escape Leah’s arms and be in yours. Grabbing her, you place her on you hip and spin in a few slow circles, around and around, forcing a laugh from the both of you and you place a small raspberry kiss on her cheek.

Leah has now gotten to her feet and forces you and your daughter in for a strong hug, quickly placing a soft kiss on first your temple and then your daughter’s.

“How was she while I was gone love?” you ask her as you bounce your daughter on your hip, her tiny little hands trying to pull anything she can get ahold of.

“A perfect little Angel like always. Aren’t you always an Angel.” she replies while gently trying to pretend to pinch the small baby’s cheek. Looking back and forth between your wife and daughter is when you first realize their matching pjs. “Wearing matching sets, without me?” you pretend to be hurt.

“Yours are upstairs love, go get changed and we can start a Christmas movie before we lie her down.” Leah explains as you hand her the small baby and run to quickly discard your old clothes and place the identical pair of pajamas on and return to the two.

Upon your return, “Look how gorgeous mommy looks in her set.” Leah says, making your heart melt. “I can say the same about her mama.” you reply before grabbing your phone to capture your outfits on camera. Leah and your daughter in Christmas themed pajamas next to the tree quickly became your favorite photo you have ever taken, posting it to your instagram before closing your phone.

With a Christmas movie on and a bottle of warm milk in your daughter’s tummy, she was out like a light, snoring softly as she was nestled in between you and Leah. Leah carefully picked her up and placed her in her cot before returning to you.

“Okay baby we need to wrap some of her gifts.” you tell her, walking to the closet where you were storing a few of the gifts you had gotten for your daughter. You and Leah had discussed that she necessarily would not be old enough to fully understand Christmas and unwrap gifts so you would mostly focus on a few toys and a few cute outfits. She already had everything she could ever need and want so you didn’t want to waste money on stuff she wouldn’t use.

Returning with a few of the items, Leah is awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, you could tell she was slightly stressed. “What is wrong baby?” you ask out.

“Before I begin, you have to promise me that you won’t get mad” she rambles out. Quickly confused, you look at her to continue, “I promise” you say questioningly, “What did you do?”

“I might have bought a few more things for her.” she says quietly, almost like she was scared of saying it.

You laugh out, “That’s fine Lee, I also got a few more things for her when I was out, I couldn’t help myself. Go get them so we can wrap them for her for tomorrow!” you tell her.

“Well you see thats the issue” she says before a long pause, “It might be more than a few per-say.”

Grabbing your hand, she leads you towards the guest room, a room you probably haven’t entered in ages. Walking into the room, you see an indescribable amount of toys, clothes, and accessories, just toys upon toys.

“Leah Cathrine Williamson” is all you can mutter out as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I thought we discussed this!” you say.

In the room, you take notice of things like a bike, “Lee she is just over 7 months old, she can’t even stand, let alone ride a bike.” you laugh out.

“I know baby, but I would be at the store or online shopping and I would see something and I had to immediately buy it for her. Then at some point, I just kept buying things. And it is her first Christmas, I want to make it perfect for her.” she tries to explain.

Your immediate anger has subsided and has now been replaced with adoration for your wife in front of you. How could you possibly be mad at her when she is so sweet. She makes your heart melt, all she wants to do is make tomorrow special and share her adoration for the festive holiday with your daughter.

“Okay Lee, I’m not mad baby. It is kind of the sweetest thing ever. But if we don’t start wrapping gifts now, we won’t be done until next year’s Christmas.” you tell her as you have now moved to wrap gifts since there is basically a toy store in your guest room.

“I’m telling Santa to put you on the naughty list for this.” you tell your wife as you are nearly finished wrapping the gifts.

She fake scoffs, “You wouldn’t” she says as she pretends to be highly offended.

“Oh, I would.” you quickly reply.

“I can make it up to baby.” she tells you as she pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Before you head to bed for the night to prepare for tomorrow, Leah says, “Hey love”, you look towards her, “I’m like 95% sure my mom did the same thing for baby girl.” she says. All you can do is laugh. Like mother like daughter.

#woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #woso couples #woso soccer #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #awfc

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freedomfireflies · 11 months

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iFall for Harry pt. 8

Summary: The eighth part to iFall for Harry

You and Harry have your final phone call.

And you tell him the truth you've been avoiding since that fateful day in the diner.

Word Count: 3.2k

“So…what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you mean since I fled from the diner in a fit of dramatic rage? Not much. Just…picking up the pieces of my pathetic excuse for a life. The usual. You?”

“Honestly? Pretty much the same.”

You feel your heart flutter as you flop down onto your bed, phone still pressed tightly to your ear. “Yes, I’m sure your fabulous, glorious, and very expensive life is quite pathetic.”

“Maybe not that. But the diner wasn’t my proudest moment. Been picking up those pieces since you left.”

Shit. There's not enough alcohol in the world to soften that blow. “Harry…I’m so sorry—”

“No. Don’t be,” he interjects through a bit of static. “Seriously. I get it. I thought about it a lot after you left, and you were right. I mean, you were right to be…wary. I guess.”

You swallow thickly. “Still…I should have heard you out—”

“Wouldn’t have changed anything,” he says, once again cutting your response short. “Really, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it. Or…I’m making peace with it. Right now. Talking to you. For the last time.”

Shit, shit, shit. The tears are already working their way back up your throat as you roll over onto your back and stare up and the ceiling. “I like the idea of us being friends. And I appreciate you for…offering to make space for me. I just…I can’t—”

“Really, you don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“No, I know, I just…I know you’re probably a good guy, and you’re trying to…make this work—”

“No, you said no, and I pushed you anyway. I even did it again, like…five minutes ago. Tried to make you do something you didn’t want to—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I don’t think it would work—”

“Right, and I can’t change your mind about that—”

“It’s not that you need to change my mind, it’s just…I wouldn’t want to hurt you—”

“I’m telling you, you don’t have to explain. I get it—”

You huff. “Harry, would you please just let me apologize—”

“No.” His reply is resolute. Slicing through the phone until you bite your lip and swallow the rest of your argument. “No, you don’t have to apologize. It’s…a weird situation. You had every right to be wary and I jumped the gun. You don’t know me. You have no reason to trust me. We’re good, Cheese Girl. Seriously.”

Even still, your eyes flutter shut. “You being so nice and understanding is not helping me let you go.”

You hear a gentle chuckle. “Oops?”

“Did you decide all this in the past five minutes, then? Because you were pretty adamant when I first called.”

“Kind of, yeah.” Some rustling. You imagine him sitting down. Because you can actually imagine him now. Put a face to the voice. To the name. The idea. “If I have to say goodbye, I don’t want our last conversation to be me trying to convince you to do something you don’t want to do.”

Your stomach wrenches. “Again, it’s not that I don’t want to…I just…I don’t…”

You can’t seem to force the explanation free, but your silence seems to tell him what he needs to know.

He sighs. “I get it. Really. Like I said, this is…a strange thing. It’s not a fairytale. We can’t make something work just because we want it.”

You bite the inside of your lip. “But you still think I should have given it more of a chance.”

A beat.

“Maybe,” he admits, and a tear slips from your eye. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe this saves us some heartache.”

Tell him.

The command rings between your ears as you suck in a sharp breath. It’s not the first time you’ve contemplated telling him the truth. Telling him why you’re so hesitant. Why you’re so nervous.

But even with all this wine…you can’t make the story come out.

After all…it wouldn��t change anything.

It’s too late.

“Tell me something good,” you whisper. “Tell me…tell me what the best part of your day was.”

He hums, and you wait. Changing the subject is the only way you’ll get through this phone call. Creating some final memories before you go.

“Saw a ladybug on my hat,” he tells you, sounding rather excited. “It was really cute. It rode with me all the way through town. We became buddies.”

You laugh through the desolation. “How sweet. I love ladybugs.”

“Yeah? Me, too. I named him Francis.”

“Francis?”

“Yeah. Like the ladybug in A Bug’s Life.”

“Oh…you a big Bug’s Life fan?”

“Yeah, why not? Pixar is great.”

“Pixar is great. That’s cute you’re such a Disney follower.”

“What can I say? I have taste.”

“I bet your millions of Twitter followers would absolutely love to know that.”

There’s another moment of silence before he snorts to himself. “I think they know a little too much about me already.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Just…because,” he replies coyly, and you smirk, “I might have…accidentally…liked some porn on there and everybody saw.”

You gasp so hard, you nearly choke. “You’re kidding. Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You think you hear him grin. “God, I was so fucking embarrassed. I didn’t realize you could see what somebody liked on Twitter. Nobody ever told me.”

“So…you liked the porn and then what?”

“I…okay, don’t fucking laugh,” he begins hesitantly, and you feel yourself smile. “I thought if I just…liked a bunch of other stuff immediately after, like pictures of cute kittens…people would think it was a glitch.”

You bite back a laugh. “And did they?”

“What do you think?” he snorts. “My pussy plan was a complete and utter failure and to this day, my sister still makes fun of me for it.”

You slap a palm over your mouth to hide your laughter as Harry groans from his side of the phone. “Okay, then what did you do?”

“Well, what else could I do? I said, ‘So…the weather?’ and that was that,” he replies, and you can hear his amusement. “My mum threatened to ground me.”

“Oh, as she should.”

“Not for the first time, either. Apparently, I have a problem.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There was this TV thing…I don’t know, basically I said pussy on national television, and she was pissed.”

“Oh…my god.”

“Okay, in my defense…I was being a good friend. I was telling him how much tail he was gonna get, and I think that was a very nice thing for me to say.”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, what, like you’ve never done anything like that?”

“Like responding to porn on twitter and saying pussy on TV? No. No, I can’t quite say that I have.”

“Shame,” he retorts, and you hear his gentle chuckle. “It’s quite liberating.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

The conversation lulls then, leaving you to listen to the soft breaths in your ear.

And you listen for quite some time, overwhelmed by the comfort you feel in knowing he’s there.

And overwhelmed by the fear that comes with it.

“His name was Nico.”

“What?”

Your eyes squeeze shut. “The guy I was being catfished with. A few years ago. His name was Nico.”

Silence settles between you as Harry seems to await the rest of the story.

“It was….god, it was so dumb,” you begin, waves of remorse washing over you. “It was back in college. There was this guy in my class that was kind of cute. I really liked him, and my friends and I used to…you know, giggle about it all the time.”

You hesitate, fingers curling even tighter around the small device against your cheek.

“Anyway, one day my friend told me that he wanted my number and had given it to her to give to me. So, I started texting him. And we texted for…shit, for months. All the time. Like…all the time. From the moment we got up to the moment we went to bed.”

You hear some static from his end and feel slightly calmed by knowing he’s still there.

“I told him…everything. Everything. I mean, things I had never told anyone else. Not even my therapist,” you admit, voice dissipating into a whisper. “And…and we sexted a bunch, and he asked for nudes, and I sent them because I’m an idiot.”

You take a deep breath.

“And for some reason, it never struck me as odd that he never actually talked to me in person,” you continue. “Or that he told me he was too busy to hang out. Or that he couldn’t call and actually talk. Or that whenever we were in class, he wouldn’t even look at me. I just thought…you know, he’s popular, he’s a good student…at least he texts me. And I felt so lucky.”

Harry inhales quietly as well, almost as if he knows where this is going, and you feel your skin grow hot.

“Then one day…he ghosted me. Just completely stopped replying. Wouldn’t answer a single text that I sent, and whenever I called, it went straight to voicemail,” you recall. “And I cried about it to my friends, and I tried really hard to get over it, but eventually, I got so pissed…I went up to him in class.”

“Shit,” Harry murmurs, and your heart lurches.

“Yeah. He had no idea who I was,” you snort bitterly. “Introduced himself and everything. And I explained about the messages, and he was so confused. And then he took out his phone to show me that it wasn’t him. Even showed me his number. Which was not at all the number I had been texting.”

Another quiet stillness as this sinks in.

“Long story short, it had been my friend,” you reveal, the admission nearly catching in your throat on the way out. “Actually, it was a few of my friends. They thought it would be funny, and apparently, they didn’t expect it to get so far. But then it did, and they couldn’t back out. So, they went with it. For months. Through the sexting, and the pictures, and all the secrets.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, and you nod to yourself.

“Yeah. So…Nico was really sympathetic when I found out. He apologized on their behalf and said he hoped there were no hard feelings. Which was nice, but…you know, I didn’t know what to do,” you breathe. “The rest of the year, I just kept waiting for the girls to do something with everything I had said and sent. Waited for all the things I had told them to get posted on a blog or for the pictures to get leaked.”

“Did they?” There’s a certain apprehension to his question. Almost as if he’s nervous to hear the answer.

“No,” you say, rather relieved. Even after all this time. “No, they just never talked to me again. And I spent a long time learning to be okay with what happened.”

“But it wasn’t okay,” he argues, and you can almost hear the frown he must be wearing. “And you don’t have to be okay with it. I…that’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well…I can’t do anything about it now,” you sigh, reaching over to absentmindedly fiddle with a loose string on your duvet. “Anyway. Then I started texting you. And it was great because I didn’t know you from Adam. And it was never gonna go past a few cheese puns. And I had told myself that this is where I get over what happened. I make a better memory. I let the past go.”

He's quiet.

“And then you wanted to call,” you mumble. “And I figured, what the hell. Because if you were someone I knew, I’d recognize the voice. But I didn’t. And you sounded really nice. And hot. And for just a minute, talking to you…I forgot. I forgot why I was so scared. I forgot what had happened…and I had fun.”

He takes another breath, and you sink further into your mattress.

“And then you wanted to meet,” you whisper. “And I almost didn’t come, but then I decided that if this was another joke…I’d stand up for myself this time. I’d tell you off. I’d give myself a better ending. And then…I saw you.”

Another beat before you hear him murmur, “Shit.”

“And I know it wasn’t fair of me to assume the worst,” you tell him. “But I did. I saw you, and I saw a hundred and one opportunities for you to humiliate me. And I saw Nico, and I saw those girls, and I realized…I couldn’t trust you.”

You’re not sure when, but the tears you had been trying so hard to swallow are now streaming down your face.

“Not that I didn’t want to trust you,” you blubber. “But that I couldn’t. I couldn’t—can’t—trust anybody. I don’t know how anymore. And…and I don’t think that’s gonna change. I don’t know how to make it change, and that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to put this on you when all you’ve done is try…try—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, attempting to soothe you through a softer tone. “It’s all right. You’re okay, yeah? You’re okay. You don’t have to explain, okay? I understand. I understand, ladybug, and I’m so sorry.”

This new nickname brings your soft sniffles to a halt as your lips tug up in a smile.

“I’m…shit,” he exhales. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m…I’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that. And I’m so sorry that meeting me brought it all back up—”

“No. No, it wasn’t you, I just—”

“Still, it was probably way too close to home—”

“Maybe, but I know you were just being nice, and—"

“Can you let me finish?” he snaps but you can hear the playful undertone. “I understand why you don’t feel ready to give your trust away again. Believe me. I understand. And I would never want you to do something before you were ready. Ever. So…thank you for telling me. And I’m so…so sorry.”

You swipe your knuckles across your cheek as you work to steady your breathing. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Don’t care. I am anyway.”

A steady calm echoes between you.

“Harry?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“…thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not hanging up.”

You hear him sigh, and it sounds heavy. “I won’t hang up until you’re ready.”

Another beat.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds.

“I’m really gonna miss you.”

He takes another breath, and you feel the hole in your stomach grow a bit wider.

“Yeah. I’m really gonna miss you, too.”

You spend the rest of the night exchanging stories about your lives. He tells you about his X-Factor audition and his family. You tell him about your dog and your weird fascination with Back to the Future.

He makes you promise that one day, you’ll watch the movie together.

And despite the fact that you both know it’ll never happen…you agree with a giant smile on your face.

Hours go by. Until the sun is beginning to come up and your eyelids are beginning to go down.

You don’t want to hang up. Don’t want to let him go or say goodbye.

But the longer you talk, the more stories he tells, the more little quirks you become enamored by…the more you realize you’re beginning to really like him.

And the more you realize that losing him…just might kill you.

You’d wanted a happier ending than the one you got before. And perhaps this is your happier ending. Even if it ends in a dial tone.

Either way, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ll never be able to give Harry the kind of partner he needs. Or the kind of friend or confidant. Your trust in the smallest of things has been shattered, and with his life…you never know what might come out of the woodwork.

You don’t know if those girls would come back to claim their five minutes of fame. If they’d attempt to blackmail you, or even worse…him.

You don’t know if you’d ever feel safe with cameras following you around or if you’d ever be able to trust that he wasn’t using this situation for personal gain.

And you hate that you wouldn’t. You hate that you can’t just believe him. You hate that your own mind is working against you.

But you especially hate that he’s been nothing but great cheese puns and amazing phone sex. That there’s so much more to discover about him. That he’s so kind.

And that you’re so…broken.

The soft golden streams of light slip through your curtains and offer you their morning greeting. It’s a new day.

For both of you.

It hits you then. Letting him go—actually having to press the button—might ruin you. You aren’t sure you have the strength. You aren’t sure you can let these few wonderful things go and block him out of your life for good.

No matter if it’s the right or wrong thing. It’s the only thing you can do.

You haven’t spoken in a few minutes. Instead, listening to him recall his favorite spots in London. The soft, silky sound of his voice luring you deeper into your infatuation.

You realize you can’t do it. You can’t be the one to hang up the phone. To tell him goodbye.

You can’t. Your tongue physically won’t let you.

So…you devise a plan.

“Ladybug?” he calls after his story has finished. “You there?”

Silence.

You are here. You are, and you don’t plan to go until he hangs up. Because that’s the only way you’ll ever do this.

You have to force his hand.

“Cheese Girl?” he teases before you can practically hear the smile slip from his face. “Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Your pulse bounces against your ribcage like a basketball as you hear him sigh.

“I think you’re asleep,” he decides. Softly. As if speaking to himself. “And I think that means it’s time to go.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. No…

“In case you aren’t asleep…and you can hear me…” he begins as your throat constricts, “…I want you to know how happy I am that I met you. That you got my number instead of his. And that you gave me some of the best cheese puns I’ll ever hear.”

I’m happy I met you, too.

“I’m so fucking sorry for what happened,” he sighs. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t have…fixed it for you.”

Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.

“You deserve so much better than what happened.”

You deserve better than me.

“And I know you’ll find someone who can help you rebuild your trust.”

It should have been you. It should be you.

“Please take care of yourself, Ladybug.”

I don’t think I know how.

“And please remember me in a better light than the I-Liked-Porn-On-Twitter light,” he chuckles.

You smile.

“I will always…brie here…if you need anything,” he finishes, and your grin gets a bit wider, forcing a tear from your eye.

Don’t say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Cheese Girl.”

With that…the phone beeps three times.

And the call goes quiet.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

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~ iFall for Harry pt. 9

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~ iFall for Harry pt. 7

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (if I'm doing this right, and if you'd rather be taken off, just let me know!!):

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles request #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #iFall for Harry #harry and cheese girl #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot

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gojos-thot-patrol · 10 months

Text

Good evening Dear Reader, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I've missed you so much! Don't worry darling, I don't return empty handed ;)

Now Presenting...

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, in a modern day curse-less AU Summary: After being left at the alter by your less than magnificent fiance, you only have one thing on your mind: revenge sex. And who better to help you out than the man your ex hates the most.

Warning: This fic contains a gratuitous amount of smut, both praise and degradation, unprotected sex, face fucking, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, and is all wrapped up in a nice cream-pie. viewer discretion is advised ;)

Okay, admittedly, you may have had this coming. Everyone and his mother warned you about Satoru Gojo. About his womanizing ways, his commitment issues, his demanding job. Still, none of that mattered to you. You were convinced that you could fix him! That love would pull through. He’d realize that you meant more to him than being a playboy, and he’d settle down for you. You knew in your heart that you would have your fairytale ending with him.

Yea well turns out your hearts a dirty fucking liar. The weight of that realization was crashing down hard on you as you nursed a vodka sweet tea at what was supposed to be the reception for your wedding. You secretly vowed to never pick up another romance novel ever again. There’s not many things in this world more mortifying than being left at the altar. Maybe somebody pulling an “I told you so” right after you got left at the altar? That could be just as bad.

“I told you so,” Nanami said as he sat next to you, tie already undone. The groan that escaped your throat was a little more raw than you intended as you dropped your head into your arms. It was official; this was the most humiliating day of your life.

“Thanks Kento, that's actually exactly what I needed right now,” You muttered as you picked up your head long enough to finish your drink.

“Always happy to help.” He said, patting your back in what you were fairly confident was meant to be comforting. You sighed as you rubbed your face, not even caring if your makeup smudged anymore. You were sure at least your mascara was wrecked.

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong,” You admitted, turning to face the partying crowd, dancing the night away as if this wasn’t the worst night of your life. At least it was all on fuck faces dime. “I was the perfect fiance! I was loving without being suffocating, I supported him in everything he fucking did, I was faithful, shit man, we fucked constantly, it was like-”

“I don’t need to know the details, thanks.” Nanami said, quickly cutting you off before you put any images in his mind. He shook his head to expel any that had slipped in. “It’s nothing you did Y/n,” He assured you, “Gojo is just not the type to commit to a coffee order, let alone a marriage.” You shook your head, not wanting to accept it.

“I just wish I could find a way to hurt him like how he hurt me.” You muttered. You scanned the faces dancing in the crowd. You were shocked to see how many of his friends were still there. Nanami made sense, at some point he became more your friend than Satorus. But Suguru? That one didn’t make any sense. Unless it was to report back to Satoru what you were do-

Oh.

Oh, he was definitely here to make sure you were a fucking mess. He was here to report back to Gojo that you were indeed destroyed and were never going to get over him. No, No absolutely not, you were not going to let him have that.

“Y/n, are you listening?” Nanami asked. You absolutely were not.

“Uh huh, yea,” You nodded, scanning the crowd for a body to get under, “I’ll be sure to start investing tomorrow-”

“Nope, not even close to what I was saying.” Nanami groaned, rolling his eyes. He recognized that look on your face. “What are you scheming Y/n?” It was then your eyes landed on the perfect target- I mean hookup. Ryomen Sukuna, nursing a drink in the back of the venue, watching the party the way a lion watches a herd of gazelles. You never fully understood Satoru’s friendship with him, but you completely understood why he got the invite. The two were less close college friends, and more bitter rivals patiently waiting for the other's downfall. The two constantly had to one up and outdo each other, and you had no doubt in your mind his invitation was just another way to try and show off.

“So, Nanami, You still talk to Ryomen, right?” You asked, ignoring whatever he was saying before.

“I don’t like that you’re asking me that right now.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I just want to know if he’s sing-”

“No.” Nanami said firmly, looking at you with the same eyes a father gives a child that keeps drawing on the walls.

“No he’s taken or no you won’t tell me if he is or not?” you asked, taking out a compact from your bag to check your makeup. It actually wasn’t that bad! Shout out to waterproof makeup!

“No, I’m not going to watch you make mistake after mistake. Ryomen is bad news. You think Gojo was bad? Well he’s ten times worse.” Nanami warned, looking into the crowd to see if he could find Ryomen lurking in it. He didn’t even know he was here! And if anyone would be down to make a bad situation worse, it was him.

“How does my ass look in this dress?” You asked. Satoru had picked it out because it was “danceable” for you. It wasn’t something you would have chosen for yourself, but you still felt like you rocked it.

“I’m not answering that question.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes in annoyance.

“You don’t have to, I know I look good.” You smiled and winked. The dress may not have been great on you, but it’s fine. Confidence is what's really attractive. You took a deep breath, then went to approach the unapproachable. Ryomen couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried, but the closer you got the more interesting he became. His black dress shirt hugged him just a little too tight, leaving very little to the imagination. He had his sleeves rolled up, tattoos on full display while he checked his watch. He looked up from it just in time to capture your eyes with his, intrigue and amusement igniting behind his scarlet irises.

“Hi Ryomen,” You smiled. You had been working on a loose outline of a script as you made your way to him, but now that you were next to him that script was about as good as your marriage was. And well, considering your marriage never actually happened..

“Hi Y/n. I’m surprised to see you here, honestly.” Ryomen had never been one to beat around the bush. You noticed his eyes fall to your cleavage.Oh good, he was willing to play ball.

“Why are you surprised? It’s my party.” You smiled, resting next to him against the wall.

“I don’t know many people that would want to go to the reception after getting so publicly dumped.” He said. Ouch, ok that was uncalled for. You hoped the sting didn’t show on your face. If it did it didn’t phase him.

“Hey, the party was paid for,” You shrugged, “No use letting a perfectly good open bar go to waste, especially when I’m not paying for it.” You grinned. You had successfully earned yourself a smirk from Sukuna, and a point for the home team.

“I’ll drink to that,” He laughed, “Want me to grab you something?” The ball was in your court, quick, be clever!

“A drink actually sounds great right now. How about a Sex on the Beach?” You smirked.

“Ooo, I don’t think they’re serving those. How about I give you a Screaming Orgasm instead?” He smirked back.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I may need a Leg Spreader before that.” You hummed, giggling for the first time all night. He nodded,

“Got it, a Blowjob for me and a Leg Spreader for you. I’ll be right back.” he nodded, walking off. The thought of Ryomen trying to take a blowjob shot, hunched over the glass and trying to drink the liquid without using his hands, genuinely made you laugh a little. You found an empty table nearby to take up residence at, and contemplate if you really wanted to do this. Your relationship was in the gutter, there was no getting around that. Being left at the altar was the kind of blow you can’t just come back from.

But you didn’t have to fuck his friends (enemy?). Doing this was most definitely an act of war. Whether you were actively together or not, Gojo was extremely territorial of you. You knew that was why Suguru was here; to make sure you didn’t jump into a rebound. If he found out you slept with Ryomen Sukuna of all people on your (almost) wedding night of all days, that would eat him alive from the inside out. There would be hell to pay for sure.

Good. You reminded yourself that you didn’t ask for this fight, but you would win it. You smiled as Ryomen returned with two drinks: a whiskey neat for him and a drink that looked more akin to chocolate milk with whip cream for you.

“Gotta say; looking a bartender in the eye and asking for a ‘screaming orgasm’ will never not be funny.” He joked, handing you your drink and sitting across from you.

“Yea, why are so many drinks named like that? It’s weird, right?” You asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion.

“All bartenders are secretly nymphomaniacs,” He said with enough confidence you were almost convinced that was a real requirement to make drinks. “You’d know that if you slept with more.” and he said that as if it was some moral failing on your part that you had not slept with an adequate number of bartenders. It made you laugh.

“Oh, my mistake you’re right. I’ll fix that right now,” You bluffed. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the bar.

“Be my guest.” He offered, calling out the aforementioned bluff.

“Oh, but that means I’d have to leave my guest alone, and that’s just bad hosting.” You faux pouted. He shrugged.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be alone for very long.” He smirked at you from behind his glass before taking a drink. You wanted to call him out on his bluff, but, you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Satoru had dragged you to enough social events with Sukuna to know that he rarely went home alone. You decided to go with a different strategy.

“Well, what if I told you I had my sights set on a better prize for tonight?” You asked, batting your eyes and bringing your arms together to emphasize your chest. Sukuna gave a dark grin, seeing right through you.

“I’d say good choice,” he winked, “especially for what you’re trying to do.” Welp, you didn't have anything planned for that comment. You blinked at him

“What do you mean?” You asked, playing dumb.

“Come on Y/n, I’d hope you’d give me more credit than this. You got stood up at the altar by your asshole, hopefully ex, fiance, and now you want to fuck the guy he hates more than just about anything else to get back at him. It’s a solid plan honestly, and luckily for you, I’ve had my eyes on you since the first time Satoru brought you around.” He was making eye contact with you. The fire in his crimson eyes danced with mirth and hedonistic intent. You realized this was probably why Sukuna had even bothered to show up to the reception. He had your plan before you even did.

Before you could respond, you were startled by a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Hey Y/n, how you holding up?” You looked up to see Sugurus' gentle smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes held nothing but steel and mild resentment. He always looked at you like that. You moved your shoulder from under his hand.

“I’m fine Sug, thanks for asking.” You muttered, taking a long sip of your drink. ‘Don’t sit down, don’t sit down, don’t sit down,’ played in your mind on repeat.

“Of course, Y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He said, sitting down. ‘Fuck!’ “I know this must be hard for you.”

“Actually, You’d be surprised.” You said, getting your nerves back together. This was Gojos' spy. You couldn't let him see you falter. “I’m just ready to be over it.”

“You know what they say; the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody.” Ryomen chuckled as he finished his drink. Suguru glared at him.

“Yea, I never liked that advice.” He said, venom lacing its way into his words as he shot daggers at Sukuna with his eyes. He turned back to you, “It’s always sounded like a good way to make your situation worse.” Was that a threat?

“I mean, You never know until you try.” You challenged.

“I disagree.” Suguru warned. You brushed him off.

“Well, If that’s how you feel, so be it. Do me a favor?” You asked, looking at him with your best doe eyes.

“Of course, anything.” He said, plastering back on that fake sympathetic smile.

“Watch my drink for me,” you said, standing up and taking Sukunas’ hand, “Ryomen and I were just about to dance.” You grinned. Ryomen returned your grin ten fold, laughing as he followed you to the dance floor, leaving an almost visibly confused and quite frankly offended Suguru to seeth at the table. Last time you looked back, he had taken out his phone and was furiously typing on it. Good.

“I knew I liked you.” Ryomen whispered into your ear as the two of you made it to the dance floor.

“Try to keep up with me.” You whispered back. You let the music flow through you, taking a few seconds to find your rhythm before moving your body in time with the music. Ryomen to his credit didn’t miss a beat, dancing not only to the beat, but in harmony with your own body as well.

As the music played the two of you became more acquainted with each other's moves and dance styles. You thought you would switch it up on him, going in to grind. He didn’t falter for a second, placing a hand on your hip and matching your pace. You expected a lot of things from this exchange, but the electric pulse his touch sent through your body was not one of them.

“Am I keeping up with you?” Ryomen mumbled into your ear, the sound of his rough voice sent waves of heat through you and directly to your core. You spun around to face him, realizing that now he was within kissing distance.

“You’re doin’ well enough,”' you purred to him, running a hand over his chest and god damn. It should be illegal to be that well built. Between the tight shirt and your own sense of touch, you felt like you had a pretty good idea of what he looked like without that shirt on. Still, you desperately wanted to confirm your theory.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Ryomen asked, almost as if he could read your mind.

“I say that's a pretty good idea,” You nodded as the two of you left the dance floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you to the exit, and you slipped your hand into his back pocket. You really hoped Suguru had a clear view of this. ‘Eat your goddamn heart out Gojo’ You thought maybe just a bit too smugly as you found your way outside, and he gave his ticket to the valet boy.

You took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to ground yourself back into reality. It didn’t feel quite real yet. Your almost four year relationship had just barely ended, and already you were hopping into bed with someone you knew was bad news. Nanami wasn’t joking when he said Sukuna was just Gojo ten fold. In the four years you’d known him, you had watched him lay waste to more hearts than you cared to keep track of. You just hoped you weren’t next.

All doubts evaporated like water in Texas when Sukuna approached you again. He had unbuttoned three of his shirt buttons, showing off hints that his tattoos didn’t stop at his face and arms. A cigarette dangled loosely from his lips. He removed it long enough to exhale smoke as he approached.

“Valets on the way.” He informed you. You willed your brain to think of anything other than Ryomen naked long enough to nod.

“Good to hear.” You nodded. You had a whole new set of anxieties now. You knew Ryomen had a lot of experience. What if you didn’t measure up? Apparently, your nerves were evident in your features. You caught a smug smile from the pink haired man next to you.

“You nervous?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Me?” You chuckled to hide the fact that yes, you indeed were. “I’ve got nothing to be nervous about Ryomen.”

“Hmm, Well see about that.” He smirked. Before you had time to ask what the fuck that ment, a far prettier car than you were expecting pulled up. A gorgeous, 1957 Ford Thunderbird, with a beautiful cherry red paint job and, from what you could tell, a black leather interior. You knew that all of Gojos' friends were just as loaded as he was, the fact he had a nice car wasn't a surprise. But you had expected a Bently or a Lambo. Not a classic bombshell.

“You have a T-bird?!” you scoffed in disbelief. He laughed and nodded.

“You like her?” He asked, beaming with pride as he tipped the valet. “I fixed her up myself.” He added, opening the door for you. You slipped into the soft leather seat, and a few seconds later he joined you.

“I never pegged you as a car guy.”

“You’ve never pegged me at all.” He grinned, laughing at his own joke.

“Wow, you’re so funny you know that?” You scoffed, dripping in sarcasm. Despite that, you were giggling softly to yourself.

“Oh, I’m the funniest. You’d know that if you didn’t have your head up Satorus ass for four years.” He scoffed, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe that relationship lasted as long as it did. You shrugged softly, not really having a come back for that one.

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “The dick was just that good.” If you had thought you had heard a full hearty laugh from Sukuna before, you hadn’t. You realized that as he fell into near hysterics over that comment. And, despite yourself, the sound was warm and infectious, making you laugh along with him.

“God, was he your first? That’s the only way I could see anyone thinking Gojo was good at sex, god.” He laughed, taking a drag off his cigarette before dangling it out of the window again.. You raised an eyebrow at that.

“And just how would you know? You get a little close and personal with our boy?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He was laughing, warm and hearty, again.

“Good God no!”He shook his head, “Some of us have standards! No, I don’t have any personal experience with him. But he brags all the time. Or, really, he thinks he brags. In reality, He talks about how bad he is at sex and we all just kinda nod and laugh at him behind his back.”

“Wait, He hasn’t talked to you guys about what happens in our bedroom, has he?!” You asked, a new wave of betrayal overtaking you. Ryomen just gave you a look and you knew the answer.

“Right, forget I asked.” You muttered.

“Don’t worry Doll,” He assured you, placing a hand on your thigh. You thought your heart might explode at his warm touch. “After tonight, all of his bullshit will just seem like a fucked up nightmare.” You hoped he was right.

💒💒💒

You were beginning to doubt your decision to bring him to your apartment instead of going to his. It’s not that you were ashamed of where you lived, on the contrary, you knew you had a beautiful residence. The shame came from the fact that this was technically still your shared dwelling with Satoru, and evidence of him still lingered in every corner of this apartment. His things were still here, which shouldn’t have been surprising really, but you were less ready to face it than you thought.

The good news was Ryomen gave you exactly no time to start to miss your ex. His mouth was on yours almost the moment the two of you were in the door, pulling you close and taking your breath away in a needy kiss. You moaned softly into him, tangling your fingers into his soft pink hair, getting drunk on the scent of pine needles and Marlboro cigarettes.

He kissed his way from your lips, to your jaw, all the way down to the base of your neck, leaving a trail of purple bruises in his wake. “Bedroom is-”

“I know.” He cut you off. You realized two things at that moment. 1.Sukuna had been to your house before, no doubt with Gojo. and 2. That he had been leading you to the bedroom the whole time. He fumbled for all of two seconds with the door before getting it open, ushering you in and all but pushing you onto the bed. It was in that moment that it hit you just how much bigger than you Sukuna was. 6’4 and made out of pure muscle, he could have truly hurt you if he wanted.

You would think this would kill the mood a bit but quite the opposite actually. You pressed your thighs together to try and distract yourself from the almost uncomfortable amount of arousal pooling between them. Ryomen notably did not like this, moving to cage you onto the bed. “Come on Y/n, Don’t get shy on me now,” He purred as his hand moved down your body, “We just started having fun.”

You bit your lip as you began to melt under his electric touch. You watched as his hand disappeared under your dress. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers brush against the translucent spot on your panties. Your breath hitched and his smirk only grew.

“Is all of this for me, Doll?” He asked, teasing you through the fabric. You felt your hips unintentionally buck, trying desperately to make more friction. You nodded, maybe a little bit too aggressively for your taste, but it just seemed to encourage him. He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. “Thought so.” He muttered, moving your panties to the side and running one of his thick fingers up your folds, gathering the natural slick forming.

His eyes seemed to glow in the dim moonlight filling the room, taking in even your smallest reaction as he teased you. You whimpered softly at his touch. His gaze held yours firm as his fingers finally made contact with your clit. It was slow at first, sending soft pulses of pleasure through you. He built up a steady pace, applying more pressure and speed as your reactions demanded it. You whined needily, digging your freshly manicured claws into his shoulder blades.

“Ryomen..” You moaned. His name sounded so much prettier falling from your lips than he ever imagined. And he had imagined it.

“Say it again.” He encouraged, applying more pressure to your clit to make you squirm. His free hand found your hips, firmly pressing you into the mattress to keep you still.

“Ryomen, please..” You whimpered, “I need more, please..”

“What’s your rush?” He asked, a finger slipping down to tease at your weeping cunt. “We’ve got all night princess, and I’ve waited for this for too long to rush it.” He chuckled darkly, though he did grant your wish, slipping one of his fingers into you. He curled the long thick digit up, gracing your ever elusive (to Satoru) g-spot. You saw white hot, waves of fiery pleasure coursing through your core. You dug your claws even deeper into his back. He hoped the crescent moons of your nails would still be there in the morning.

“Fuck, fuck! Ryo..” You moaned, losing yourself in the endorphins. He was persistent in the massaging of the soft part inside of you, and tension was quickly mounting.

“Ryo?” He all but laughed, “That's new. I think I like it from you though.” He muttered, adding another finger into the mix. Your body tensed, both not ready for and more than excited to accept the intrusion. Your cunt clenched around his fingers as the tensions built inside of you. The string that had been tangling itself in your stomach was ready to snap, as were you.

Your eyes screwed shut as you braced for your release, only to feel his hand move from your hip to your jaw, his nails digging into your skin just enough to get your attention. “Don’t close your eyes.” Ryomen growled, and you obeyed. “You fucking look at me. I want you to know who made you feel this good.” you whined at his words, but maintained eye contact with him. His blood red gaze was intense, molting hot even. If the inferno in your veins didn’t burn you alive, the incinerator behind his eyes surely would.

“Ryo, I’m so close.” You whined out. You were hit with wave after wave of bliss. Your body reacted to every stroke of his fingers inside of you, and the whirlwind was picking up.

“Oh yea?” He muttered, with an intense focus that could almost be mistaken for disinterest. “Then cum for me Princess.” It didn’t take long after that. Three more passes from his expert fingers at most before you were overcome with euphoria. Fireworks pulsed through your core, making you far too hot and very sensitive all at once. All the while, Sukuna was finger fucking you through your high, watching as your face contorted with bliss.

As you came down, you watched him slowly slip his fingers out of your sobbing cunt and into his mouth. He made the most obscene show of sucking his fingers clean, removing them after with a loud pop.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He praised, taking your hand and helping you stand up, “Come on, you’re too pretty to be in this ugly dress.”

“Hey!” You protested, “The dress isn’t that bad!”

“Yes it is.” He said, annoyance quickly mounting as he saw it was a button up back. “It hides you more than it compliments you.”

“Well that doesn’t-Ryomen!” You snapped at him as he ripped the back open, deciding that the buttons weren’t worth the time. “This dress is Fucking Expensive!”

“Invoice me for it then,” he scoffed, turning you around to face him. He dropped the dress from your shoulders. “There you are,” He hummed, smiling as he pulled you into a fierce kiss. The anger that you held for him ruining the dress quickly dissipated as you melted into his warmth. Fuck it, he was right. It was an ugly fucking dress.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you impossibly close. Your hands started to wander. You thought back to his tattoos, wondering about just where exactly they stopped. You found your way to the noticeable tent in his dress pants, grinding your palm against it and earning a deep groan from him. The sound went straight to your core, and suddenly it was the only thing you wanted to hear.

You fumbled with his belt, trying to get it undone while also focusing on your kiss. You didn’t get very far though before Ryomen brushed your hands away. He mumbled a soft ‘Fucks sake,’ before just undoing it himself, taking care of his button and zipper while he was at it. You were on your knees before he was finished, earning a smile and nod of approval.

“Well look at you Doll, pretty and smart.” He praised. You swallowed the air in your throat before reaching up to take him out. He sighed in relief once his cock wasn’t constrained anymore, and you bit your lip hard. If you were being honest, You had imagined Sukuna before. Late at night when your fiance was surly out with another woman, you found solace in daydreaming about what his rival's dick would be like. You had not imagined this.

He was long and thick, almost intimidatingly so. Even at your most generous, you hadn’t imagined this. The tattoos also admittedly caught you off guard, the two black bands around his base standing out against his pale skin. But it worked for you.

“Like what you see?” Ryomen smirked, never one to be shy. You felt embarrassment set a fire in your chest, despite the face you just looked him in the eyes while he finger fucked you into oblivion. Still, you nodded.

“Pretty cock.” Why was that what you thought to say!?

“Thanks, grew it myself.” He chuckled, his fingers falling to the back of your head, “I think it would look even prettier in your mouth though.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You licked your lips, wrapping your fingers around his base. You gave him a few experiential strokes, before taking the head into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him, eliciting a growl.

“Don’t fucking tease me Y/n.” He warned darkly. You decided to ignore his very clear warning, licking along one of his more prominent veins. You kissed the tip again, opening your mouth to try and suck on just the head again. That didn’t slide this time though, as Sukuna sunk his nails into your scalp and pushed you the rest of the way down his length. You gagged around him, drawing a satisfied moan from him as he fucked your throat.

You scrambled for a few seconds before finding your rhythm. Breathe through your nose, relax your throat, and in no time you were taking him like a champ. You looked up and felt your cunt clench at the sight before you. Ryomens head was thrown back, strands of hair sweat stuck to his forehead, and his eyes twisted shut in bliss. The dim lunar light casted an angelic halo on the sinful scene, and you wondered why you had’t fucked him sooner.

“God, you feel so good.” He breathed out, “Satorus’ a goddamn moron for giving this up.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you or not, but he was right, and you hummed your approval of the statement. You watched his jaw tighten as the vibrations ripped through him, followed by him pulling you off of his dick. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, quickly crawling on top of you. He didn’t go to even part of that reception just to cum down your throat. He wanted everything you had to offer. You spread your legs for him as his fingers made their way back to your still dripping pussy. He started to work you open again, catching you in yet another passionate kiss. Satoru never kissed you like this.

“You’re fucking soaked still.” Ryomen noted, easily working you open for him. “Think you’re ready for me Doll?” You hummed your response, mentally preparing for this. He tsked at you. “With your words.” He said, the edge in his voice cutting through your brain fog.

“Yes.” You nodded, licking your dry lips.

“Yes what?” His annoyance was getting more evident.

“Yes, I’m ready for you.” You whimpered. He finally nodded his approval.

“Good girl.” He said, before slowly pushing in. No matter how wet you were, you couldn’t have prepared yourself for this. You felt yourself being ripped apart at the seams, your cunt molding itself to him to accommodate. You took in a sharp breath as he let out a jagged one, hips faltering for just a second as he paused to let you adjust.

“Jesus fucking christ you’re tight.” He groaned, getting lost in the way your velvety walls clenched around him and tried to pull him in further. You whined out in response.

“Ryo, I don’t think I can fit it all..” You admitted almost shamefully.

“You can.” He assured you, pushing even further in, “You’re doing so good Princess.” You bit back a squeal, suddenly wanting nothing more than to make him proud. You let out an embarrassing moan as he finally pushed all the way in, but that's ok because he did too. For all the nights that he spent fucking his hand to the thought of you, nothing could have prepared him for how good you actually felt.

He stilled for a minute, giving you time to fully adjust to his size. You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ok, I’m ready..” You muttered. He chuckled darkly.

“Ready for what Doll?” He asked. You groaned, tired of his bullshit.

“Come on Ryo, please. You know what I want!” you whined.

“I do.” He confirmed, “And I want you to beg for it.”

“Ryomen please!” you begged him, “Please, I need you to move. I need you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore, I want to feel you ruin me. Make me your whore, please, I want to be destroyed.” GOD Ryomen was lucky he didn’t cum right then and there. That was so much hotter than he thought it would be, and you could feel his dick twitch inside you.

“If you insist.” He said, setting a brutal pace right off the bat and making you scream. “I’m going to mold this cunt to me, and me alone.” He growled into your ear, “When I’m done with you, I’m going to be the only man you’ll ever want again. No one will make you feel this good again.” He was probably right. The curve of his dick put it at the perfect angle to continuously massage your g-spot, overriding the slight discomfort of him fucking your cervix. He stretched you out so beautifully, you couldn’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this full ever again.

“Tell me, Does he fuck you like this?” he asked, tangling his fingers into your hair to force you to look at him again. “Like the dirty whore you are?” you tried to shake your head no, but his grip was too tight.

“No, not nearly as good.” You whimpered, getting lost in the inferno of desire and pleasure that was overtaking you. Every thrust sent another shock wave of euphoria through you, the waves of bliss threatening to over take you with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to wreck this pussy?” You growled into your ear, “Ever since that motherfucker first brought you round us. Showing you off in that tight little skirt, flaunting you around like a brand new toy. I’ve thought of you every night since.” He said, folding you in half and wrapping your legs around his shoulders. The new angle let him sink even deeper into you, sending a new intense wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins and making you see stars.

“Four years is a long time to wait for something,” He mumbled, “But fuck me you’re so worth it. So much fucking better than my hand, or those bitches I’d pretend were you. Never been more thankful for that idiots' mistakes.” He laughed. You weren’t listening. You were driving at 140 miles per hour straight off a cliff and into a grave of dopamine and bliss. Your cunt clenched and wept around him, your orgasm coming faster than you wanted it to.

“Ryomen, I’m so fucking close.” You whined, nearing the edge of the cliff.

“I know,” He huffed. He could feel it in the way you trembled around him, “Want you to come all over my cock. Come on, make a mess, pretty girl.” He purred, fingers finding your clit and massaging expert circles into it. That was it, the extra pleasure sending you over the edge. You felt like your soul left your body as stars exploded over your eyes. Your blood filled with euphoria, dopamine, and oxytocin. You felt your body stiffen and convulse around him as you were hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

The way your cunt grabbed him like a vice, pulling him impossibly deeper, coupled with the intoxicating look on your face as you came brought him to his climax. He couldn't have pulled out if he wanted to (Is what he told himself) as he came deep inside you, overflowing your cunt and dripping onto the sheets. Everything stilled for the seconds that followed, both of you desperately trying to catch your breath.

He pulled out finally. He managed to roll to the side before he crumbled, collapsing next to you instead of on top of you. “Holy fuck,” He breathed out, basking in the afterglow with you.

“Holy fuck indeed.” You nodded, not knowing what else to really say. Gojos' sheets were definitely ruined.

“And you mean to tell me he left you at the fucking altar?” Ryomen laughed in disbelief. “Talk about a fumble.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s never that good with him.” You admitted. You looked over to see Ryomens victorious grin.

“I believe that.” He muttered. Habit overtook you as you moved into the arms of your lover, resting your head on his chest to listen to his racing heart slowly return to normal. He didn’t move away, wrapping his arm around you instead. He kissed the top of your head. It was by far the most gentle act of the night.

💒💒💒

Ryomen was gone when you woke up. You weren’t surprised, but you did find yourself disappointed, much to your further dismay. You weren’t expecting breakfast in bed or anything, but you were hoping he’d at least stick around long enough for a goodbye. Oh well, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to fuck him. And honestly, the last thing you needed right now was another playboy to fuck around with your heart.

You checked your phone and actually laughed. 12 missed calls and far too many texts, all from Gojo. It must have gotten back to him that you went home with Ryomen last night, and he was running himself ragged trying to “fix” his mistake. As if he could fix it. You deleted the voicemails along with the messages without reading them. You were about to put down your phone when a specific notification caught your eye. New Message, Sukuna. Never one to learn, you opened it immediately.

Good morning beautiful. Sorry I left so early, work called. I’ll see you soon though ;)

The sound that left you was truly embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You were ready to make a New Mistake.

#ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #curseless au #slight satoru slander #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #fem reader #sukuna x fem reader

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demontonic · 10 months

Text

Ethan Landry - Perverted 2

I know it took me forever to finish this but its finally here! Read part 1 if have you havent already! This is it though i dont think ill be making a part three but heres my masterlist if you want more from me

word count: 3990

tw: blood, fighting, knife play, alcohol, dacryphilia, ethan is plowing through you idk what else to say

A month, one whole month and you had yet to tell anyone of what you saw. It was nearing halloween, more people started buying ghostface costumes unbeknownst- or rather in their own ignorance- the victims of woodsboro were amongst them. The uprising of the ghoulish mask had the group on edge, that being the original five as the others didn’t even flinch at the sight. Ethan had been getting closer and closer to you, going so far as sneaking into your room while you were awake, asleep, studying, showering. In a way you were flattered, amused by his boyish antics but there were times you had realizations that he was- no is a killer. At first the noise of your window sliding open followed by footsteps had you reaching for your knife, or any object you could defend yourself with. Now when you hear it, sometimes you don’t even acknowledge him until he speaks, questioning your behavior, lack of honesty, or even your mood.

At some point you convinced yourself he was trying to collect more information on you. Typically you could gather a lot from social media, or just being friends but you had avoided him so much, now was his time to get to know you. He told himself every time you crossed his mind it was purely for the end goal, but he knew you were twisted. He could tell by the way you never told anyone, or how you would react to him creeping through your window. There were times where he would leave, and wait on the fire escape until you fell asleep to go back in and just lay next to you, imagining a domestic life where he didn’t have a bloodlust. A life where he didn’t meet you the way he did, a sweet fairytale story to tell your future kids. He’d make sure he was a better father, never picking favorites and raising them right. You being his stay at home wife, going out everyday to provide for his family that he would love. Coming home at night and sleeping next to this beautiful being that he felt so normal around, but he would always have to leave and dream of waking up next to you.

Today was no different, you’d wake up, go to your classes, have lunch with the group, and then go home- or so you thought. Today had been slightly different, the entire university buzzing with comments about a halloween party. Like normal you had assumed you were going to stay home as you did for most parties and events. In your Literature course Ethan had decided to sit next to you, whispering a little too close to your ear about the party. He wanted you to go with him, and the group of course but he talked about you dressing as a princess as he would be a makeshift knight. Your face burned at the suggestion of corresponding outfits but you declined saying you most likely wouldn’t show. You noticed the immediate change in his demeanor, something that you had seen multiple times. He could be sweet, quiet, soft, well spoken, or he could be harsh, sharp tongued, quick witted, and stern. It was a real Jekyll and Hyde situation, at first it was frightening but now it was just a matter of knowing how to combat his remarks.

“You will look best in a burgundy dress, the color against your skin will be absolutely stunning” his breath fanned against your ear, voice dropping to the one you assumed he used when he made the calls. Ethan’s voice was as strong as the gaze he held, you felt it linger as the warmth of his body left yours. It almost made you shiver, almost refusing to meet his dark eyes knowing you’d be met with the void that accompanied this version of him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” you dropped your pen on the dark wooden desk before averting your eyes to his. First they held that dark void that came with the demeanor, but a few seconds after they went back to warm doe eyes you had first become infatuated with. The ones that stared at you from the floor of your room when you were half asleep finishing schoolwork. A sigh left his chest, almost unnoticeable if you hadn’t known his body language inside and out.

“It’s rude not to… please come to the party tonight it’s gonna be fun,” a crooked smile found its way onto his lips, his teeth peeking out slightly. You looked back towards the professor trying to fill the blanks from where you had stopped taking notes. “I’ll think about it Ethan, I wouldn’t even be able to get a dress such short notice- I don’t even like frat parties to begin with-“

“Stop whining and try to have fun, I don’t like crowds but it’s gonna be a one time thing,” he assured you as he stared at your hand scribble on the paper. Ethan always found himself tuning out to the sound of your pen writing on paper, the smell of your perfume, shampoo, chapstick. He even became accustomed to the tinge of weed under the coconut and vanilla body spray you favored, it was your scent, every product you used. The candles you lit, the oils you put in your diffuser, even your favorite drinks like vanilla frappuccino with coconut milk, or coconut water, vanilla milkshakes- he almost had a whole journal just for you.

“I said I’ll think abou-“

“Please”

Pleading? Asking? Begging? No, it was a demand disguised as a question to make it seem like you had a choice. Did you? Of course, you were a grown woman who could make her own decisions. No matter how he looked at you with those pretty brown eyes you stood your ground.

“I will think about it”. Alarms buzzed around the room signaling the end of this afternoon class, luckily it was your last class today. You quickly shoved your materials into your bag before weaving through the crowd of students, surely losing Ethan in the process. He was a stubborn little shit sometimes as you’ve come to notice, it made you feel special. With others he was a pushover, too scared to say no and always just doing what he was told. With you he felt comfortable voicing his opinions, speaking his mind, you were far past him whispering empty threats into your ear late at night. Now you talked about what he would be doing if he wasn’t doing the whole ghostface shitshow, if he hadn’t followed the ways of his father whom he’d yet to reveal. Some nights he asked about you, your childhood, aspirations, fantasies and then sometimes you would try to talk him out of following through. He’d always laugh and tease you about trying to be his savior, and falling in love with him but maybe it was he who’d fallen for you. Through the fog and the rain, you’d sparked a lantern within him, if he’d follow was still a decision he’d yet to make.

Arriving at your shared apartment the girls sat in the kitchen talking about the party. Sam had been long gone as she went to work, Quinn helped Tara figure out the pirate-esque outfit she was to wear. It was odd however, the redhead pulled a tight lipped smile with a slight tilt of the head before Tara fully turned to you. The smaller girl ran to capture your abdomen in a hug and then jumped in front of you excitedly.

“You didn’t tell us you and Ethan had gotten somewhere!” She practically vibrated in place, waiting for you to spill some details with eager eyes. Quinn had sat down, watching the exchange with her head resting in the palm of her hand.

“That dork actually had the balls to ask for some help,” she said in a gruff voice, you assumed she was tired from her classes although it felt entirely wrong. Jealousy couldn’t be it. She had plenty of guys basically at their knees for a chance with her. “Help? With what exactly I don’t under-“

“The par- Oh my gosh! Did he not ask you yet? Were we supposed to wait?”

“He asked me to the party Tara don’t worry, I just said I’d think about it- BESIDES I don’t have anything close to what he wants me to wear… Where are you going?” You placed a hand on your hip, eyes following the small brunette as she pulled a bag up from the couch.

“Oh no”

“Oh yes”

“No”

“Ohhh yes!”

It was 6pm, time had blurred together as Tara was busying herself with getting you ready. You both decided it would be the easier route to straighten your hair, and to go with a simple eyeliner and mascara than a full caked face. On the daily you made the effort to apply mascara and eyeliner but Tara suggested a pop of color to which you reluctantly agreed. You knew once you got there you’d be splurging in the variety of alcohol they undoubtedly had so opted for a matte red lipstick. Within that time you had discovered Ethan had been in cahoots with Tara and Quinn for the past two weeks in order to have your ‘costume’ ready. The whole thing made you feel wrong, like you were being pampered for him, after all this was his money you were wearing. A part of you however felt like a high school girl getting ready for her first date, maybe over time you had grown a deeper passion for him. You spent more time together than you had even stopped to realize before. Besides that you hadn’t minded him sneaking into your room almost every night like some forbidden love. It was forbidden in all reality, it was wrong, sick, insane, but the sweet boy had weaseled his way into your heart. So as you sat here sitting in front of your mirror, spraying some perfume and patting down your hair, a smile made its way onto your face.

You held open the door for Tara, Quinn opting to stay home with her latest catch, you two started walking to the frat house. The cool air against your body helped as your heart was beating so fast you thought you’d pass out. All dolled up for a man that was burdened with sins you didn’t even remember at this point because all you could think about was not making a fool of yourself. Walking into the party was a hard task, you were already irritated from the pushing and shoving you made a beeline for the hard liquor. Tara had gone for something lighter and assured you it was okay to split up since Mindy and Anika would be with her. Chad had texted you once Tara told him you had made it, so after you had a cup of malibu with a drop of pineapple juice you started to make your way to the boys. By the time you got there half your cup was empty, in all honesty without it you’d be a shaking mess. Chad had grabbed you before you could confront the bitch you had jabbed her heel onto your foot. He always knew you were hotheaded, never scared to scrap with a random chick for fucking with you so he had to be your voice of reason.

“You just got here, try not to get kicked out so soon,” he joked as he walked you over to the doorway they’d stationed at. “Besides, lover boy has been waiting so patiently for you,” he whispered in your ear, playing it off like he was looking behind you. Ethan stood there in his nerdy cardboard costume, a bucket shaped ‘helmet’ on his head paired with a crooked smile. His eyes however held something mischievous, you hadn’t noticed until Ethan put a hand firmly on your waist that Chad left you two alone.

“I was starting to worry that you stood me up, especially after I bought this for you. I hope you can forgive me for taking things into my own hands, I wanted to spend at least one normal night with you.” Ethan spoke next to your ear over the loud music, it was almost too intimidating for you. One hand was on your waist, and the other loosely holding your wrist like he was scared you’d leave him. You laughed nervously before downing what was left in your cup, setting it down on the nearest table.

“It would’ve been rude to reject your gifts, besides it wouldn’t hurt to go out every now and then.” You placed your hands on his forearms, trying to hold your composure as everything felt so overwhelming. His eyes were sharp, like he was trying to read your expressions as if they were hard to decipher. Both of you were still in each other's presence like you were basking in the meld of your auras. For a moment it felt comforting like there would be no consequences and maybe it was the full cup of alcohol or the scenery but you want nothing more than to feel his plump lips against your skin. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for a red headed bitch completely inserting herself into your short conversation.

“Oh my god Ethan Landry with the basket case, what a match made in hell. Two losers made for each other, how disgusting!” Audrey, you knew her name purely because she had been a lowlife that thought too highly of herself. She had tried to get Ethan to be her lap dog in a few classes, always batting her eyes trying to get him to do her essays. He never went for it, he wasn’t some stupid jerk off dying to hump her leg like most of the male population on campus. You had been itching to ring her by that orange hair of hers, especially now.

“Oh get over yourself, you’re just a ran through whore clinging to whoever you think you can push around. Honestly it’s a bit sad how all you have now is some fake tits your daddy bought and loose pussy.” To say you shocked yourself would be an overstatement, but you didn’t expect all of it to come out so easily. Hell even Ethan looked at you as you practically ended her college reputation. The surrounding people catching on slightly to the tension turned the music down so they could tune in.

“I think you’re just mad because you’re a sad pothead with no future.”

“I think you’re just mad because you couldn’t get Ethan to do your work because the fumes from your hair dye killed your brain cells.”

“I’m a natural redhead!”

“Okay fire crotch watch how you talk to me before I check your attitude.”

“You won’t do shit you suicidal bi-“

The whole room gasped, the air felt too hot for you, you almost didn’t feel the impact on your knuckles. Ethan tried to hold onto you but you tore away from his grasp too quickly and before he knew it you had punched Audrey. For a moment you thought you drew blood, but you quickly realized it was the fake blood from her half assed vampire costume. She tried to get back at you but she tripped over her hooker heels and practically fell onto you. Of course you shoved her back onto the floor, everyone laughed at her pathetic attempt at a comeback.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, you should take a nap baby.” You laughed as you watched her slowly rise from the wood flooring. Tears streamed down her face as her head hung down, too embarrassed to face the crowd.

“You’ll pay for this you bitch.”

“Oh boo, you whore!” She walked out of the room, the music quickly returning to its eardrum shattering volume. Ethan was leaning against the door frame by the time you made your way back to him. He had his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watched you walk back, his hands quickly resting on your hips.

“I’m not saying you didn’t scare me a little but… that was kinda hot.” Thank the higher beings for the colorful lights, your face was so red from both the heat and Ethan. Your chest swelled with pride as the serial killer applauded you for taking a swing at that stuck up bitch.

“Someone had to do it eventually, so will you come downstairs with me for a drink?” You pulled on his ‘chest plate’ as he nodded, following closely behind you. After a few shots and strong drinks Ethan had convinced you it was time to leave before you ‘got into any more trouble’. You weren’t hammered but not sober either, so of course he walked you to your apartment.

“How fun I get to walk through your front door this time,” alluding to all the times he’d climb through your window.

“No one ever said you couldn’t, I think the girls would’ve actually gotten a kick out of it.” You smiled as you walked through the door, already going towards your room. However before you opened it you realized Ethan had stopped following you. Instead he leaned onto the wall before your door, looking at you expectantly.

“Don’t act shy now Eth, you’ve been here how many times?”

“I told you I wanted one normal night.”

“Well if you ask me I think I preferred you just coming in through my window, no invitation required.” Again, his demeanor changed as his tall frame straightened and walked towards you. A small tilt of his head and then suddenly he was kissing you, it was rough, demanding, dominant. One of his arms wrapped around your waist before he reached behind you and opened your door. You stumbled back as he slammed it shut, locking it too before resuming the sloppy kiss. He walked you backwards towards your bed, lifting you easily by the hips and tossing you down softly. The diadem on your head was pulled off and placed on your side table, his helmet had been long gone, laying somewhere on your floor. He quickly pulled his chest piece off and threw it somewhere, shocking you in the process as his abs peeked from under the long sleeved shirt he wore under it.

“So you like the psycho killer version of me better than an econ geek?” His question sounded breathless, both of your faces flushed as he knelt between your legs. You dress barely stopping at your upper thighs, his hair messy and tangled from your hands.

“If I say yes, are you going to kill me mister ghostface?” You asked just as breathless as he was, a smirk plastered on your lips as you watched his expression mirror yours. You almost miss it, his god-like features distracting you as he pulls out a knife, pressing the tip to your throat.

“Of course not baby, I’d never hurt you, I’m just trying to figure out what you’re into.”

“Well this is kinda doing it for me if that helps.” He smiled before trailing the blade all the way down between your thighs, severing the straps of your panties. He didn’t pull the fabric off, not yet anyways, instead pulled his shirt off before leaving dark hickeys all over your neck and collar bones. Your fingers tangled in the mess of curls as he made his way across your exposed skin. Quiet sighs leave your chest as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to your body. His hips began to grind against you, the rough feel of his jeans caused you to shiver under his herculean body.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but the rest of your clothing had been tossed to the floor. Ethan's face was settled between your thighs as you neared your third orgasm. He was fucking you with his tongue as his thumb stayed on your clit, harshly overstimulating you. Your thighs couldn’t even squeeze around his head at this point, they rested on his strong shoulders, shaking and trembling. Tears were welling up in your eyes as your back arched off the bed again, crying out his name as you came on his face. He sat up, crawling closer to you as you trembled underneath him. All he did was smile softly, his canines poking against his lower lip. Your eyeliner had run down your cheeks, your hair tangled and frizzy.

“You look so pretty crying, shaking, and begging. I should’ve been fucking you like this every night for the past month.” As he spoke he traced your face lightly with the tip of his knife, his cock slick with precum as he rubbed it against your clit. Your legs shook with every move he made, you were far beyond overstimulated; this was insanity. You weren’t even sure if you were forming proper words as he began to slide his thick cock into your sensitive cunt. Your nails scratched at his v-line, no doubt drawing blood from his pale skin as he bottomed out. He hissed as he quickly drug his blade across the top of one of your hands. It was a small thin slice barely even bleeding, you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t watched him do it. Anyone would’ve pulled their hand away but it just made you dig your nails deep into his hips. He tossed the knife onto the floor and grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them against your chest as he began to rock slowly in and out of you. Your head dropped back on your pillow as your mouth opened in a silent whine. His lips held a smirk as his pace sped up, head dipping down to your neck as quiet whimpers left his throat. You started crying as you felt another orgasm building from his rough pace, you bit down on his shoulder since your dry throat could barely let your moans out. He groaned at your action and seemingly went faster, you pleaded against his hot skin but he only kept on. Once his hands left your wrists to hold your thighs apart, your nails clawed down his back. The moans coming from him sounded so heavenly, almost pathetic despite him having full control.

He pulled back from you, fully sitting up but his brutal rhythm was unforgiving. He held your hips off the bed as he plowed into your throbbing cunt. Finally a stutter in his pace as he neared his orgasm. He groaned, his head falling back as his thrusts became sporadic causing your body to move upwards on the bed. Your hands braced against the wall as he lost himself in the build of his climax. You cried out into the dim room, your pussy clenching around him as you came. He fucked you until you were squirming under him again, he pulled out and came onto your stomach moaning your name lowly. Ethan stilled for a moment, until finally his hands dropped your thighs and he laid next to you. He pulled your leg onto his waist, pulling you against him as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hand rested on his waist and your head on his chest, it was finally calm again.

The next morning when both of you woke up, you walked into the living room to find the entire group. When they noticed you two together it was like they snapped out of a daze. They joked about how it took way too long for either of you to make the first move. It didn’t take long however for the dread to settle back in as the news reporter spoke of two college students being murdered last night.

@hana-1235

@i-do-be-vibinn

@meh-karma

@cumbermovels

@acornacreacure

@c0untryclub

#Spotify #fanfic #ethan landry #ghost face #ghostface x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x you #ghostface ethan #ghostface smut #ghostface #ghostface x you #demontonic

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kissitbttr · 5 months

Note

hello! i read you miss having asks and i don't know if you maybe miss having some requests (in case you aren't taking any you can ignore this and i hope you'll have a good day <3)

but what about some domestic Miguel and spending your first Christmas together? just imagine sitting on the couch in front of the TV, with a blanket covering both of you, watching some way too romantic soap opera, while drinking some hot chocolate and just enjoy the moment <3

(i know this is so early and we are still in November, but I swear, I can already feel the nostalgic feeling of Christmas </3)

xmas with miggy? say no more baby!!

it is absolutely one of your favorite holiday, ever. the music, the decorations, the presents for your loved ones, the cooking and baking. everything about christmas just screams fairytale,

miguel has never been the one who’s fond of this specific holiday, or any holiday for that matter. he would drown himself in work to avoid any invitations from friends. sad but anything to get away from interacting with strangers.

now ever since you stepped into his life, he can’t help but see how this year’s christmas would be different. having you with him to celebrate together just changes his perspectives. now he has someone to hold and love, this christmas would bring joy into his life.

you and him had been pretty busy with the decorations and stuff. buying a Christmas tree, getting pretty ornaments, looking for presents etc.

“need a hand, baby?” miguel steps into the kitchen, seeing you take out fresh cookies from the oven. you look so… comfy. dressed in his old t-shirt with your hair tied up in a bun—his clothing is basically a dress so there’s no need to be putting on some pants other than underwear—

you nod, looking up at him before setting the cookies on the counter. “can you put those hot chocolates on the table, my love?” you ask with a smile,

his heart soars at the nickname before grabbing the two cups of hot cocoa with tiny pink marshmallows in them. “you pick or i pick the movie?”

you’re quick to raise your hand in a child-like manner, causing him to laugh. “me, duh!” you answer as if it’s the most obvious thing. “we’re tuning in The Mafia Dolls and La Reina Del Sur”

miguel groans at the choice, shaking his head as he put the tray down on the table before grabbing a blanket. “you just want to watch Kate Del Castillo because you have a crush on her” he points out,

shrugging you showcase an expression of no shame. “she’s hot. you know i would leave your ass for her”

miguel jaw drops open, hand over his heart as he watches you stifle a giggle. “i’ve had enough time dealing with men trying to hit on you on a daily basis and now i have to compete with Kate Del Castillo too?!”

“her and Eva Mendes” you nod, arms crossed, smiling to yourself as he rolls his eyes before throwing you a playful glare and sit on the couch. “you’re going to pay for that comment”

you give him a cheeky smile. grabbing two cookies as you stride towards him, his large arm coming to wrap itself around your waist. he gently pulls you down on the couch, letting your head rest against his chest as you feed him a cookie.

“mhmm” he hums in approval. “new recipe?”

“yeah. you like? grandma sent the recipe to me. said that i have to treat my man something nice every once in a while” you giggle to yourself as he put his arm behind you. his lips plants a kiss on top of your head.

“tell her i said thank you” he mumbles as he turns on the tv. “i like this you know?”

a hum rumbles from you as you lay your back comfortably against him, taking another bite of the cookie. “what is?”

then he smiles, eyes landing on you. his fingers move to stroke your soft hair gently, catching that sweet scent of your strawberry mint shampoo that he finds obsessed over.

miguel can’t exactly remember when he had something like this. probably in his childhood? not quite sure. even if it was true, he doubts that it’s actually memorable. he remembers there were a lot of screaming match and broken plates though. maybe that’s why he avoids christmas like a plague. it was never magical.

but you… oh god, you.

you changed it for the better. the decorating christmas tree, wrapping up presents for each other, counting fails at an attempt to create gingerbread house, cooking up delicious traditional food instead of unseasoned dish that he sees people are making. and it might not be a big christmas party like in movies or how his co-workers do it, but that’s okay really. that’s just how he prefers it.

you, him and christmas.

“being with you” he responds, not minding the chatters coming from the tv. “estoy agradecido por ti, princesa”

“so, so grateful” he mumbles, pressing another quick kiss on your temple.

his words cause your gaze to soften. you slowly turn your head to look up to him from the tv, who’s eyes glued into the screen. your heart warms at the sight of miguel being comfortable with you, a small smile attached to his face.

leaning forward, you give him a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. he sighs out of contentment at the gesture, hand around your waist tighten.

“i’m grateful for you too.”

aaa this feels like it’s rushed but i hope u like it anon! I’m sorry it took too long:(

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara fluff

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coqxettee · 11 months

Text

Coquette night routine:

My current Spring night routine: 🌸🍵🌙

Once I get in from being out for the day/doing work I usually get changed into some comfy clothes, and light a candle for a relaxing evening ahead. The sky is still so light outside, (I can’t wait for summer) so I have a lovely evening ahead of me ♡

I tidy my room and make sure everything is clean and put away. I usually open my bedroom window too, to air it (if I haven’t done so already in the day) and to get some of the Spring fresh air before I settle down for the evening. I spray my room with a floral room spritz too ♡

I usually read or journal on my bed until I’m called for dinner. I love reading fairytales in late spring and anything light-hearted/romantic ♡

For dinner I have been having light meals. We’re coming up to summer and the weather has been rather warm recently so something light is perfect. Either soup or salad, and usually before or after dinner I have some cold fruit too ♡

Once I’ve eaten I will watch a comfort film. The Harry Potter series has been added to my countries Netflix recently so I have been watching them every evening. Sometimes I have a light, sweet snack whilst watching too. But I never eat more than 3 hours before bed usually ♡

I make some hot lemon tea and go back into my room to watch a comfort episode of something. I love the Beatrix Potter/Peter rabbit episodes you can watch online for free. They are so comforting, beautiful and radiate such coquette, cottagecore vibes. Perfect for this time of year ♡

Usually I play a wind-down video game. Either Animal crossing or Minecraft. I associate both of these games with Spring because they are light-hearted and allow me to be creative of an evening ♡

Once I’ve let my food digest for a couple of hours or so, I get my yoga mat out and begin stretching for the evening. I try and do Pilates/yoga or a K-pop dance routine everyday and a stretching routine. (Apart from setting my alarm) I also don’t go on my phone from this point onwards, so there are no screens/blue lights before bed ♡

Shower time. I usually shower quite late before bed and every morning too. I just like the way it makes me feel more fresh but obviously not everyone likes doing this so don’t feel you have to! I use my marshmallow shower gel, coconut body cream or my cherry-blossom body cream too. I love washing the day off ♡

Then I take off my days makeup and do my skincare whilst usually watching Vogue beauty secrets. It’s such a comforting thing to watch when your taking off/putting on your makeup. I also spray myself with a lavender body mist to help me sleep, and of course I brush my teeth ♡

I then get changed into a nightgown or some cotton/airy pyjamas. I don’t like to wear anything too constricting in Spring, which is why I love vintage nightwear. Or I wear my Brandy Melville, heart lace pyjamas ♡

I brush my hair through thoroughly whilst listening to classical music, and tie it up either with a ribbon or hair tie so it doesn’t mess up when I sleep ♡

I pick out my outfit for the next day the night before and lay it out on my vanity so I know what I’m wearing the following morning ♡

I turn my electric blanket on if it is a little chilly that night and say goodnight to my parents. I switch my fairy lights on and get into bed ♡

I either listen to relaxing “Lana Del Rey” songs or nursery rhymes ♡

I usually journal about my day to reflect on everything that has happened and I write my to-do list for the following day ♡

I read every night for half an hour or more. Usually it’s a fairytale so my head is filled with magic before I sleep ♡

Before I sleep I play rain music or rainforest sounds, or I choose a subliminal to listen to overnight from my library, and I spray my pillow with “Lavender pillow mist” or I use a sleep oil to help me get to sleep ♡

If I haven’t done it already, I set my alarm for 7AM, to ensure I have a productive morning the next morning. I make sure to get at least 8-10 hours of sleep. I love waking up early and listening to the bird song, especially now since the Sunrise is at 4am ♡

I count sheep & swans and like to imagine fantasy lands in my head before I sleep, and hope to be transported there in my dreams, before I finally drift off to the land of Z z z ♡

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drchucktingle · 8 months

Text

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #3

hello buckaroos and WELCOME BACK for another edition of DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS. as before please remember there are huge spoilers ahead and you should absolutely not read this way if you have not already read camp damascus. however if you are all finished with the dang book then trot right ahead.

this is the third in a series of posts so if you are just now finding this way you should probably trot on back and start from the first post here are links

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #1

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #2

(EDIT: PART 4 IS HERE)

alright buckaroo now that this is out of the dang way lets dive right in. WARNING: CAMP DAMASCUS SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #3: HOLY AS HECK

i have talked a lot about way of layers that make up camp damascus. previously we tackled FAIRYTALE LAYER and this time we will focus on way of BIBLICAL LAYER.

FAIRYTALE layer makes for pretty complete allegory that stretches from beginning to end of story. it moves in specific order to create a full narrative. however BIBLICAL layer is much more abstract in its trot, taking in bits and pieces from various religious stories and texts and ideas and letting them weave over the top of each other. because of this, i will not be as explicit with TRUE MEANING as i have with other posts, but i will give the buckaroos some starter information on their journey to pick this one apart.

FIRST lets see what the bible has to say about some of these characters

ISAIAH is one of the first characters we meet in chapter one of camp damascus, and although he is not around for the rest of the story, his early appearance has a lot to say metaphorically. ISAIAH in the bible says this in ISAIAH 17:1 - 'a prophecy against damascus: 'see, damascus will no longer be a city, but will become a heap of ruins.''

there is a contemporary language bible name of MSG that translates isaiahs prophecy to this 'a message concerning damascus: “watch this: damascus undone as a city, a pile of dust and rubble! her towns emptied of people. the sheep and goats will move in and take over the towns as if they owned them—which they will!'

in other words if you read into name of this character in first few pages you can unlock everything about the trot of the demons and what happens the last few pages of the book.

another interesting name is SAUL GREEN. in bible saul is known for his CONVERSION ON THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS.

i will write out book of ACTS 9 where this story appears in the bible (gonna cut out a few things to make shorter for you but i will keep line numbers)

ACTS 9 (talkin about saul)

3 as he journeyed he came near damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven.

6 so he, trembling and astonished, said, “lord, what do you want me to do?”

then the lord said to him, “arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”

7 and the men who journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice but seeing no one.

8 then saul arose from the ground, and when his eyes were opened he saw no one. but they led him by the hand and brought him into damascus.

9 and he was three days without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

AND THAT IS THAT BUCKAROOS. thing to consider here is that saul green went to camp damascus. he was asked to go not taken like the others (he is counselor) and on his journey he could not see (this is metaphor for memory loss) yet he walked away full of faith.

final name i would like to talk about is WILLOW. she is seen as heathen and seductress by community, especially by LISA DARLING who is roses mother. lisa is righteous and ANGRY, painting herself as the CORRECT and HOLY voice, while believing willow is a sinner and bad influence.

near end of book we learn willows legal name is MAGDALENE which is reference to mary magdalene. in bible mary magdalene is a bud of jesus, they are always hanging out and trotting around together. it is believed by most that mary magdalene was a prostitute (or former prostitute) although this is not specifically in the dang text so who the heck knows.

marys story is about the townspeople treating her badly because of her reputation, believing THEY are the morally superior folks and she is the sinner. HOWEVER jesus will not condemn mary. stepping in jesus says 'actually you townsfolk are wrong, this is my bud, who the heck are YOU to judge? you are all much worse'

so in case of camp damascus this is reflected as a way of saying, 'actually lisa, according to the bible story YOU are the ignorant one for judging willow (mary magdalene) YOU ARE IN THE WRONG.' once you connect these dots you begin to see that lisas main character trait is JUDGEMENT (like in walking game)

a few more quick notes:

all demons mentioned in camp damascus, as well as additional occult texts mentioned like THE BOOK OF THE SACRED MAGIC OF ABRAMELIN THE MAGE, are actual demon titles and real books.

there is a chapter in camp damascus titled STRAIGHT STREET. the main road down middle of the actual city of damascus is 'straight street'

the innermost layer of hell being cold is actually what is written in dantes DEVINE COMEDY. this is the ninth circle of hell and it is described as a freezing, icy landscape where buckaroos are buried up to their necks in ice and tortured.

finally i will leave you buckaroos reading this with an image of a REAL PAINTING name of THE HOLY FAMILY WITH THE MAYFLY. this is an actual painting from 1495. as you can see there is tiny mayfly in the bottom right corner. nobody knows why it is there

#deconstructing damascus #spoilers

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