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lucidfairies · 7 months

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money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

#abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #tlou modern au #lawyer #ceo #ceo au #maya writes

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teamatsumu · 5 months

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PLS I JUST NEED SOME DOMINANT XAVIER

a/n: I GOTCHU BABY

warnings: smut, nsfw, swearing, fem!reader

Xavier is….. quiet. Playful and slightly teasing, but he usually remains withdrawn. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, so you can’t often predict what he will do next. Moments like these can catch you off guard, but not in a bad way. In fact, you welcome the display of emotion, when he goes from being quiet and endearing to…. this.

Sex with Xavier is almost always initiated by you. He is shy when it comes to intimacy, but when you initiate, he reciprocates enthusiastically. He is eager to please, and eager to make you feel good. You turn him on, so he finds pleasure in giving back to you, and that means making you cum as many times on his cock as physically possible for you.

With how giving yet teasing he is, it’s rare to see Xavier lose his composure, especially in bed. But sometimes, like right now, your pussy squeezes around him just right, and fits snug around his cock, pushing him closer to what he knows will be a mind numbing orgasm, and he can’t help but want to chase that addicting high.

You are face down on the bed, holding yourself up by your elbows, with Xavier behind you, cock sliding steadily in and out of your wet cunt. You already came twice, but your body continues to want more, the glorious feeling of reaching your end when it is Xavier getting you there. Your arms struggle to hold yourself up, trembling under you as your body begins to feel more and more like jelly.

“Harder.” You manage to gasp out, feeling your walls tighten around his heavy cock. You can feel how much you are gushing, how close you are to the next orgasm, and it makes you arch more, push yourself back on him as he continues to fuck into you.

Xavier almost growls, feeling his inhibitions ebb away with every squeeze of your wet pussy, every squelch of your juices when he sinks in balls deep, as he eyes the pornographic arch of your back. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you up so your back meets his chest, one hand twisting around your jaw and holding you in place. It reminds him of how often you cup and squeeze his cheeks, and somehow squeezing your jaw right back in this context is driving him wild.

His speed picks up, one arm holding you in place while the other pins your own behind your back until you can do nothing but take whatever he was giving you. He liked you this way, pliant under him, accepting everything with open arms (metaphorically). He pounds into you harder, feeling the sudden urge to immobilize you further. And he does, pushing you down again and draping his broad body over yours.

You gasp at the change in angle, feeling your senses tingle and insides turn into mush. Xavier doesn’t manhandle you a whole lot, but that’s exactly what he is doing right now. He’s catering to his own pleasure right now more than yours, and paradoxically, this is turning you on even more. You moan approvingly when you feel your orgasm approaching, and you let him know.

“Xavier, I’m gonna come again.” Your voice is high, pleading, so desperate to get there, and it makes Xavier grit his teeth and speed up, slipping into the same urge he always had. The urge to please.

Your orgasm barrelled into you with full force, making your body seize up and tremble hard as wave after wave of intense stimulation wash over every nerve fiber in your body. Your pussy near about strangled his cock and his pce stuttered, burying himself impossibly deep into your core and holding himself there, feeling his muscles tense and tremble as his cum coated your insides in long, copious spurts. It made his head spin and eyes roll, releasing a shuddering breath once he finally pulled out his rapidly softening cock from your fluttering cunt.

You felt lips trace up your bare back, soft and barely there, sending a shiver up your spine. You felt his warmth encase you, firm but lean muscle pressed to your back, wispy hands running up your sides.

Your lips ticked up in a little smile. Gentle Xavier was back.

#xavier #xavier x reader #love and deepspace #lad #lad xavier #xavier lad #xavier x you #lnd #xavier x y/n

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slushycoookie · 3 months

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Kissing Practice ~ Miguel O'Hara × Spider AFAB! Reader +18!!

A/N: Had this short idea late at night so enjoy this little somn somn. ALSO, thank you for the 100 followers!!! I'm happy you all really like my stuff. <3 (Ignore the format, I'm trying out different stuff).

Miguel froze, staring at you as the question you asked him replayed in his mind.

You wanted to practice kissing…on him. Out of all those days he spent pining on you, admiring you from afar, you go ahead and ask him this. He couldn’t believe it. He must be dreaming.

“I’m sorry…repeat that again.” He asked you, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me. I want you to help me practice kissing. For a guy I like.”

His shoulders deflated at that last sentence. Of course you weren’t asking to kiss him because you liked him. It was for someone else you liked. Not him.

“Why are you asking me?” He turned his back to you, pretending to go back to work and not be bothered by the pang in his chest.

“Because you’re my friend.” You maneuvered to get a good look at him, not wanting to be shut out. “And friends help each other with stuff.”

Miguel scoffed, the sound almost turning into a laugh. “Friends don’t ask other friends if they could practice kissing one another.”

“Not true.” You retorted, putting up a finger for emphasis, “Teenagers ask their friends all the time to help practice kissing.”

“We’re adults. Not teenagers.”

“I know. That means we’ll be more mature about it.”

His muscles tensed in slight annoyance. Your logic was terrible and didn’t make any sense at all. After all, why were you asking him out of all people? There were plenty of other spider people around your age you could run to. So why him?

As the lab was silent, you peered your face around to meet his eyes. “Come on. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” He felt his shoulder getting poked by your finger. “I always think I don’t kiss that well. And I wanna get better at that. You seem like you have some experience…”

Miguel shut his eyes as he thought for a moment. This would get really bad fast if he didn't have any self-control. He always pictured kissing you, just not in these circumstances. But you were asking him. And you two were great friends. That’s exactly what he was doing. Helping out a friend.

“Fine.” His heart flipped at your squeal with joy, “Let’s do it now.”

You stopped at that, looking around as if anyone else heard him. “Right now?” He nodded. You weren’t expecting that response. Or for him to say yes. So you dug into the pocket of your spider suit, digging for something you said was very important. Your lip balm. The same one he’s watched you put on many times. How the red-colored product glided along your full lips. Adding a red tint to them. He had to resist staring at you directly, folding his arms as you smacked your lips.

“Okay. I’m ready.” You stood close to him, a small smile on your face. Your eyes were closed, lips puckered up and ready for a kiss. He stepped closer. Ignoring how the soft feeling of your body was against his. Miguel licked his dry lips before leaning down and pressing a small peck on your own. Hints of strawberry lingered around his nose while you blinked in question.

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yes. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

You sucked your teeth, “I said kiss, Miguel. Full on lip action. Not a little baby kiss.”

“That was a peck. Not a baby kiss.” He argued back, running his hand across his face.

“You heard what I said right? How am I going to learn from a peck?”

Miguel shook his head, stepping back into your space and placing a firm hand on your lower back. You were fully flushed against him as his other hand cradled your cheek. He leaned in and kissed you like you wanted. It was slow and gentle as he wanted to savor how you felt against his own lips. Kissing you like this was like the last time he was able to.

When he pulled away, your face was flushed. The red tint from your lip balm was a little faded, he was sure there was some on his lips. But he wanted to kiss you again.

“H-How was that?” You asked after clearing your throat.

Miguel shrugged, “You could be better.” Inside, you did perfectly. He didn’t understand why you needed practice in the first place. “We should keep practicing so you can get better.”

“Okay.” You nodded in agreement, “How does tomorrow sound?”

He had to hold himself back from smiling, “Tomorrow sounds great.”

Everyday he set some time for you to come into his lab and kiss him. It was only for ten minutes. Ten minutes of holding you close, enjoying your soft lips against his own. And then pulling away as if nothing happened.

There were times when you wanted to switch it up. Add tongue or a bite on the lip. Miguel was happy to oblige as you allowed his tongue to slip in, gliding along your own with fervor. Giving a gentle nip to your bottom lip whenever he pulled away. He took note of the sounds you made each time you kissed. And there were times he got carried away, his groans mixing in with your moans. And it took all the strength he had to not take it further. Because this was for someone else you liked.

“What about during sex?”

He almost choked on his cold coffee, “What? What do you mean?”

“You know, kissing during sex? I was never good at that either.”

Miguel’s talons were digging into the console. You weren’t suggesting…?

“You want to kiss during sex?” You nodded quickly and he took a deep breath. “That’s not…You should ask somebody else…”

You waved him away, “It’s just kissing during sex. No big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal.” He was over you again, chest heaving. But Miguel wasn’t angry. The complete opposite. He was making sure that you really wanted to do that with him. Be completely intimate. You didn’t back down, taking this entire conversation casually.

“There’s no one I’d rather do it with.”

Miguel’s lips rarely left yours. Not as he peeled your clothes away from you at his apartment. Placing you on the bed as if you were delicate. Even as he thrusted into you. Feeling your walls stretch around him as he kissed you with infatuation. He took everything from you. Your pleasant cries drowned against his embrace. He was determined to show you that the person you did like should be doing this to you. Not anyone else. Not even him.

He was emotional as he sat on the end of his bed. Miguel knew you all shouldn’t do this again. Especially after you tell this guy that you like him. He wondered who it could be. Who stole your heart before he could?

You shifted against him; eyes lowered in satisfaction. He stared at you as if you were in a dream. Someone he couldn’t get enough of.

“Miguel?” He hummed when you called, wondering what you needed. “You’re the guy I like.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

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classicalchan · 7 months

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liar

pairing: bangchan x f! reader

rating: sfw

tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan

wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)

your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.

you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.

"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."

he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.

you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.

you wished he would.

you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.

it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.

everything you can't have.

it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.

he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.

and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.

so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.

sometimes he said your name.

before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.

his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.

“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.

more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.

“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”

you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.

“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”

his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.

“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”

your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.

“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.

his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?

“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.

he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.

or maybe you were just reading too much into it.

you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.

“you really think i’d lie to you?”

“you wouldn’t?” he asks.

you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.

“no,” you confirm. “never.”

he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.

“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”

your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.

“yeah?”

his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.

"do you like me?" he whispers.

the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.

you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.

"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"

he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."

you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?

"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."

you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.

"you what, sweetheart?"

the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.

"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."

he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.

you didn't want to break your heart.

he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.

"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."

and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.

you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.

"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."

his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.

"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."

you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.

taglist: @tinysoftie

NAVIGATION

join the taglist <3

#bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan skz #chan skz #chan x you #bangchan fic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan stray kids #chan fic #stray kids #skz #chan fluff #cuddling #best friends to lovers #bang chan #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines

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charliemwrites · 6 months

Text

Bark bark bark awoooo

No content warnings

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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solbaby7 · 3 months

Text

Make You Mine

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual tension, toxic relationships, possessive themes, violence, ( just a fuck ton of bad decisions babe, i can’t help it, live for a feral Az )

summary:

[ part one ]

—

Sometime after dinner, once the adrenaline and underlying excitement had quelled; you’d decided to keep Damien around. While proving to be generally horrible, he also perfectly filled the place of a pawn.

A pawn in a game that only you knew you were playing.

One that pushed the line of entirely too far when you showed up at training the following day with hickeys lining the length of your neck—the same place Azriel’s lips had pressed their kisses into at dinner. The same lips you’d pictured when Damien was putting them there, hands groping at your ass as he eased the hem of your black dress over your hips.

Azriel notices you the same time you spot Nesta, striding past the shadowsinger without a hint of acknowledgement but you could feel his eyes glued to the fit of your leathers. “I thought it wasn’t your place to be out here playing with swords?” Nesta drawls out, almost bored as her opponent shuffled out of the ring nursing a bruised jaw.

“If that’s the case, then show me where I belong, Lady Death.” You peer up at her and the five finger grip on her hip, practice sword held loose in her free hand.“Unless, you can’t?”

“I’m surprised you still have enough energy to bother,” Nesta gestures to her own neck and you subconsciously tug your shirt higher. “Long night?”

A slow grin grows at the corner of your mouth, hands bracing your weight to hoist yourself into the ring and briefly you all but preen when you feel the shadowsingers rage permeating the air. Toying with Azriel’s poor restraint never ended well but surely he wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Pride overwhelms common sense and you can feel the chill of his shadows slinking around the edges of the ring as if summoned; watching, listening. “Early morning.” Nesta’s grip tightens on the hilt of her practice sword with full intent of taking you up on your offer but when her lips part no words form.

Instead, she makes a noise, not quite a scoff but not exactly a hum either. “So, there is something decent about the company you keep after all.” You don’t take it offensively and you’re certain Nesta’s readying herself for more but it never comes. A brow raises, head tilting to the side but the silence makes sense when the towering figure behind you blocks the warm sun from bare shoulders.

“Actually,” The husky tone tickles the shell of your ear. “—you’ll be sparring with me today.”

“I’d rather not.”

Azriel’s hand curls around your arm, holding firm but not hard enough that you can’t break free if you tried—if you wanted to. You refuse his gaze, focusing on anything but him and his centuries of trained muscles stuffed beneath the fabric of his fighting leathers. He’d ditched the jacket, tunic too, both tossed in a heap near Cassian. Left in nothing but the sleeveless undershirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination; broadcasting the sharp lines of his neck and the soft curls of inky tattoos that resided there. “You don’t get to make the decisions here anymore,” His free hand raises to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side and he can’t fight his body’s natural reaction to snarl at the very thought of another man’s mouth on your skin. “Not when you keep proving that you make such poor choices.”

You jerk away from his grasp, twisting out of the grip on your arm and a foot smacks at the back of his knees. Finally looking at him—looking down at him, Azriel sees the fire in your eye; the hatred and anger. The betrayal at his hands and the person you had to become because of it. “You have no right to judge my choices.” It’s barely a whisper, concealing as much as you could with so many eyes watching—so many ears listening. “You mean nothing to me.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” Curse your body for reacting to his touch; warm hands sliding up to cup at your waist. The smell of him sinking into your nostrils and seducing every nerve like a walking aphrodisiac.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

The reminder snaps you back to reality, hand reaching out to smack him clear across his face. His eyes lower to slits, right cheek going red but you’re too pissed to even register the stinging pain in your palm. “Fine,” Azriel says too casually, jaw ticking with barely there restraint. “We can play this your way.”

It’s gone quiet save for the two of you, the others pausing their fighting to see the scene unfold, waiting to witness the spymaster make an example of you. Certainly, they must’ve forgotten that you’d been doing this since you were old enough to wield a sword; fighting males bigger than Azriel.

Fuck feelings when you had a point to prove.

“I’m not here to play with you, Az. I just want to fight.” It was a cheap shot; using the stupid little nickname to your advantage but his body always reacted so obediently to his name on your tongue. He’d just barely gotten back to his feet before you strike at him, throwing a quick succession of jabs his way in a style that he didn’t teach you.

Maybe all of those weeks away traveling the other courts after his confession had left marks that he hadn’t learned yet.

Something about you that Azriel didn’t know.

The very thought leaves him distracted a second longer than he’d have ever allowed if it was anyone else. He’s quick to recover, blocking and dodging, throwing hits of his own but eventually you grow tired of the refrained punches—the obviously subdued responses to your rage and it only adds more fuel to the fire. “If you aren’t even going to try and be a challenge then just yield so I can spar with Nesta like I planned.”

He hadn’t reached for his sword once, not a single finger twitched to grip at the daggers holstered at his hips and sure, hand-to-hand was fine but with Azriel it felt too close; too intimate. “Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer and immediately your face turns away from him, refusing to acknowledge him or that low tone he took with you and only you. “A challenge?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Except to have been the first choice. One that he was sure in. Not second guessing if every special moment had only felt like that for you. “Not anymore.” The thought alone has your skin flushing with embarrassment, completely turning around to hide but Azriel just shifts to accommodate.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s worry etched in his brow, skewing the whole canvas of his face and it was like your soul wanted nothing more than to appease him. Battering and clawing at your bones, scrambling for the freedom soothe every line and give him everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

“I want to.” Azriel watches the stone wall you put up, rounding up all that love and adoration, cradling at the sobbing affection that no longer had a place to call home. It takes everything in you to leave it all, to ignore the desire to toss aside better judgement and fall into the need. The softness in your eyes dies with the squaring of your shoulders as you retake your stance, regarding him as nothing more than one of the recruits. “Fight me or leave the ring—I don’t exactly have all day.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to leave. Forfeit and grant you a worthy opportunity but that is not the case.

You should’ve known better.

Azriel’s determination was a force to be reckoned with, skilled swipes of his sword followed by combat moves he only saved for the battlefield. A particularly rough strike is blocked but it still makes you stumble. “Is this challenge enough for you?” Azriel demands, swords interlocked, faces so close you could smell the minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. Golden eyes are piercing under the suns rays, barely concealing how impressed he truly was with the way you’d kept up. Swift and limber, light on your feet and efficient in every step taken but there’s a certain chaos to your moves—something fresh and unpredictable. “This right here,” The fight, the passion, the frantic thrum of your blood rushing in your ears from the pure adrenaline that erupted at the sight of him. “—is why we will never be over.” He’s not even breaking a sweat, syllables breaching perfectly kissable lips while looking like he belonged on a throne in the deepest chasms of Hel. “I know he doesn’t make you feel like this—not like I do.”

“Stop.” It takes more effort now; balancing keeping up that stone wall and maintaining your composure under his attacks. A deep breath to settle your thoughts and you completely drop your sword, effortlessly switching to something more hands on.

“Don’t you see that I can’t?” The restraint in his voice slips, a vein bulging in his neck and your fingers scream for you to reach out and trace it. “Not until you see that he will never be able to do for you what I can.” Azriel’s shadows swirl around your arms, clamping them close to your body as he pulls you into him—his chest on your back and those hands attempting to disarm you. Your breath hitches when you feel the trace of warm skin down the length of your holsters and the weapons fastened to them. A barely there that sends your body in a pure frenzy; one that demands all things Azriel until the end of time. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it felt like—you and me.” The stiff length of his cock pressed into the curve of your spine and it takes everything in you not to actually moan. “Just say the words and I’ll remind you. Right here in front of everyone if that’s what you wish.”

Do it. Your thoughts shout. Do it. You know you want to.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

Sharp jabs of your elbow to his abdomen. A hand that clamps down around the thick bulk of his arm and all that manly strength is used against him when he’s flipped right over your shoulder. Legs straddle at his waist, one blade shoved at his throat while the other pressed gently at his chest. “No, he doesn’t make me feel how you do.” You confess, breathless and your shoulders slump ever so slightly. “But, at least with him, I know I was his first choice. At least with him,” Your words shake and Azriel can’t handle the way you have to force the composure. “—I never have to worry about being second best.” The swords clatter to the ground, not bothering to retrieve them as you get back to your feet.

You’re nearly at the edge of the ring when he calls out, still on the ground and propped up on his elbows. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Neither do you, Az.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #azriel #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fics #acotar series #acotar angst #acotar fic

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fangswbenefits · 1 year

Text

Solution

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Suggestive. Implied breeding kink. Some fluff.

It was the familiar jab in your lower abdomen that rose you from your sleep. You immediately tensed up against Miguel’s firm chest, rousing him from his slumber at once.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… just some cramps,” you whispered as the arm he had around your waist tightened into a reassuring embrace.

Miguel was a very attentive partner. Your Miguel always made sure you knew you always came first. In every sense of the word, too.

He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “How bad is it?”

“Want to switch places and find out?” you said with a chuckle.

“Hard pass,” he said, pulling his other arm from under your neck and shifting on the mattress until he was slightly hovering you. “How can I help?”

Intense eyes and disheveled hair caught your attention and you got lost in that immersive gaze of his.

“It’s fine,” you whispered, caressing his face. “I’ll take something later on.”

Miguel lowered his face to place a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, jaw…

“Someone’s feeling soft today,” you giggled as he trailed kisses down your neck.

Those felt intimate and caring, not lust driven in the slightest. A silent and effective reminder that you had all of his attention. Even though, his kisses could not bring direct comfort to the problem at hand, they were a much appreciated distraction.

Miguel broad frame was now fully on top of you as he worked his way down your body, offering comfort and goosebumps.

“I think I have a solution,” he whispered.

“Oh?”

He dragged the fabric of your shirt up, resting it just below your heaving breasts before resuming his display of affection. The mixture of his breaths fanning your exposed skin and soft kisses prompted a tickling sensation.

“Miguel?” you chuckled, squirming under his touch. “What’s your solution?”

His lips settled for the spot just below your navel and on your lower abdomen, eyes squeezed shut as if he was pondering his words.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to fully take in the view of your adoring boyfriend.

A few more pecks.

Your legs writhed under him. “That tickles!”

He held you in place quite effectively, both hands resting on your hips. “We could get rid of this for a couple of months.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

He nodded, rubbing both thumbs in circular motion as he pressed his lips against your skin. He hummed softly in between kisses.

“What do you me — oh!”

The implication in his vague words and gestures suddenly hit you.

“If you let me…” he went on, tracing the hem of your panties with determined lips. “… it’s about time we get rid of these awful…” he pressed a kiss. “… annoying…” another one “… terrible cramps.”

It should have come as a surprise, but Miguel had never been subtle about wanting to get you pregnant.

“You want to knock me up, so I can get rid of these cramps?” you asked with a smile.

His thumbs dug deeper into your skin, turning the added pressure into a satisfying one.

“It’s a fair trade, right?”

He settled between your legs and eyed you expectantly.

“What’s in it for you?”

“I get to see you bearing my child,” he said, bringing his lips up again to circle your navel. “Just say the word…”

You couldn’t hold back another chuckle. “Can I get a massage first?”

“You can have anything you want.”

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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of-many-fandomss · 2 months

Note

Three times Charles or Max pined for you and the one time they finally did something about it?

Puppy

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: slight cursing

A/N: please don’t judge this, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything

Word count: 1.4k

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Charles? Mr. Leclerc?”

It wasn’t the voice that roused the driver from being trapped in a loop of thoughts within his own mind, it was the gentle but firm nudge against his arm.

His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows up and eyes slightly wide, “Huh?” He breathed out in confusion.

Carlos smirked a bit at his frazzled teammate, “They’re talking to you.”

Charles’s gaze finally floated to the ground below the stage he was sitting upon, where people were sitting in a line, looking up at him expectantly.

He shook his head slightly, lifting his microphone off of his lap and lifting it to his lips, “Sorry, what was that?”

The man that had been asking the question for the press conference looked slightly annoyed, but repeated his question anyway.

Leclerc gave a short answer before his gaze drifted back to the place it had previously been resting, to the person standing in the very back in the crowd, somehow in the middle of a light that made it very easy for his eyes to lock onto.

You, however, were not returning his gaze. Your head was down as you furiously typed away at your tablet, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration and as oblivious to the piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face as you were of the formula one driver's stare.

“You’re staring again, mate.” Carlos’s voice floated into his ear in a low murmur as he directed his microphone away from him so as to not pick up on their quiet conversation as the crowd continued without paying them any mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a pathetic lie, and they both knew it. Especially since he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes off of you long enough to even look at Sainz.

A chuckle escaped the man’s lips and he snickered, “Like a little lost puppy,” He mused.

That was able to finally bring Charles’s eyes away from you and to his teammate, blue orbs narrowing slightly, “Shut it,” Annoyance sat in his tone, though he didn’t bother even trying to deny anything.

Without even looking at you, it was as if the man could sense your movement and turned back to you just in time for you to look up from your device, your eyes locking with his.

“Smile,” You mouthed, knowing very well as his pr that any bad media pictures would not be fun to clean up in the morning.

He did so without hesitation, allowing his face to soften so he didn’t look as stoic as he had when he was addressing Carlos.

You smiled at him in gratitude before returning your gaze to the work you had been previously doing.

“Puppy dog,” This time, when Carlos whispered in a sing-song voice, Charles only allowed his smile to widen.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Here,” Charles’s voice was a soft murmur as he all but materialized beside you.

You glanced to his face then to the flute of champagne in his outstretched hand and took it eagerly, imminently taking a generous sip, “Was it that obvious that I needed it?”

He smiled softly, eyes trained on you as you scanned the crowded room of the charity event that the company had all of the current formula one drivers at currently, “I could sense it.”

It wasn’t any secret that this was one of the most important- and therefore stressful- nights of the season so far for you. Not only were you responsible for making sure that Leclerc looked good in the eyes of the public, but your bosses had enlisted in your help with doing the same for all of the other nineteen drivers.

Apparently you had done such an excellent job with Charles that they wanted to place you in charge of this night. You were never one to turn down new opportunities, no matter how much stress you knew it would bring.

Charles, bless him, had remained by your side for almost the entirety of the night so far, remaining like an anchor to your sanity.

From replacing Lando’s drinks with water to having to pull Daniel away from jumping onto a table, the man had helped you with every task without question nor complaint.

“You’ve been such a big help tonight,” You met the drivers gaze, your eyes wide and full of complete gratitude, “Thank you so much for all of this.”

He waved you off, “I don’t mind,” He told you honestly.

A sigh left your lips, “But you should be enjoying yourself-“

“I am.” Charles insisted earnestly, “This is fun.”

You laughed, “Fun?”

“Fun.” He echoed, subconsciously, moving a strand of hair that had fallen into your face without even thinking about it.

Your smile softened as you looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes so fast that you almost missed it. What it was, you didn’t know.

“Thank you,” You spoke again, your voice soft and full of emotion.

Charles just smiled, never once tearing his eyes away from your face.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“What’s all of this?” Your lips were parted as you spun in place to look around the room, eyes wide.

“Happy birthday!” Carlos cheered excitedly, bounding across the room full of the Ferrari team until he was right in front of you, sweeping you up into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.

“You did all of this?” You gawked up at him when he finally set you down.

“I helped,” He admitted before a large, cheesy grin overtook his features and he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “You’ll never guess who set this all up, though.” His voice was light and teasing.

Your heart swelled in your chest, “Charles,”

As if summoned by the sound of his name falling softly off of your lips, he appeared from within the crowd of red and yellow, joy alight on his features.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered softly as he came to stand by your side, ignoring the smirk Carlos sent him as he slipped away, giving you two some privacy.

The beam that he was met with was as bright as the sun, “Thank you, for all of this. Seriously.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiled, “You do so much for me, this is the least I can do.”

Without thinking much of it, you pushed yourself onto your toes and left a lingering kiss on the man’s cheek, not even noticing his face go red nor his eyes go wide.

“Well, thank you anyway.” You spoke softly when you lowered yourself back to the ground.

“Who wants cake?” Landos voice boomed through the small room, interrupting Charles right as he opened his mouth to say something.

You joined everyone else in your cheers of response, excitedly taking Leclerc's hand in yours and pulling him towards the dessert table.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“I’m so proud of you,” You lolled your head to the side as you spoke, voice full of nothing but complete confidence and honesty.

Charles shook his head softly from the cushions beside you, “I didn’t get pole position.” Defeat crept into his tone.

“No,” You admitted, “But you got p2. Which is pretty damn close.”

“I-“ He opens his mouth to argue more.

You cut him off by firmly grabbing his hand in your own, angling your body to face him, “None of that.” You spoke strictly, catching onto his gaze being locked in your intertwined hands, “You raced amazing and did the absolute best you could.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m proud of you.”

His eyes flickered up to yours, staring into them for a moment as the briefest look of hesitation overcame his features.

Before you could even begin to question it, however, the man seemed to take a quick breath to muster confidence, before leaning in and connecting his lips with yours.

Your eyes widened briefly- for no more than a split second- and just as he went to pull away, you dove forward, capturing his lips in yours once more.

Before the kiss could deepen too much, you both pulled away slightly to catch your breaths, “I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that.” Charles admitted breathlessly.

You grinned up at him in response, “I’m glad you finally did it.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n

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ginnsbaker · 10 months

Text

Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet.

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue.

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes.

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation.

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you.

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents.

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold.

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act.

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger.

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name.

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters.

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening.

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

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prodbymaui · 11 months

Text

Oops, Baby (I Love You)

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x reader

GENRE: modern royalty ; arranged marriage

WORD COUNT: 12.5k+ words

WARNINGS: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of sleeping pills, food play, oral sex, dirty talks. (the whole fic is romcom slash very fluffy, the only nasty thing here is the smut scene)

SYNOPSIS: you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

PLAYLIST: Do you hear my heart?

A/N: after weeks of depression episodes what do you call them), I finally got the strength to finish this bad bitch lmao. I know you guys have been waiting so I hope you'll leave your thoughts after? anyways, happy reading!

Everything is spinning and everyone is either two or three. You don't know how much alcohol you've drank but certainly it was enough for you to stumble your way out of the bar, looking for somewhere to puke your guts out.

The intense nausea is already too much for your fucked up body system to accommodate, but the gods and deities thought it's not enough and it'll be perfect if you trip continuously on your Celine Truffle Pointed Heels, possibly damaging it more than you've done to your other shoes. The mask to hide your face is not helping as well.

Someone bumps your side and due to your drunken state, you lose your balance and break one of the heels, sending you to dive to your side. Your eyes shut close as you brace yourself for a painful slam but it never comes. Instead you meet a firm chest hidden underneath a black dress shirt and 2 layers of silver necklaces.

Looking up, through your hazy vision, you see pursed lips and palms up, as if avoiding touching you anywhere. As you step to regain your balance, you trip once again and like a deja vu, the man only lets you use his shoulders and chest to support yourself but never lets his hands touch you.

''You might want to get off of me, Ms…?''

Hearing that voice, a strange sense of familiarity and longing surge to your heart, engulfing it and squeezing it. As if to say, remember it.

''...heart.'' Why is my heart aching?

The man pulls away and observes you, sighing. He clears his throat. ''Sorry, Heart.''

His figure walking away is the last thing you see before your vision blacks out with no guarantee of you being able to recall the events that took place tonight.

Utmost disappointment. Series of distasteful comments. Disapproving reactions. Surely, these aren't the usual feelings of the people towards the soon-to-be-queen of their country but it has been the weekly routine for the people of yours to criticize their sole princess.

''Strip her off the royal titles–! Are these people out of their mind?!'' Your squeal that comes close to a banshee rings across the whole entirety of the bedroom.

''Excuse them, they take after their princess.'' Hiding her giggles behind a fist, Winter scrambles off the bed as you aim to strangle her fragile neck.

Barely dodging your deathly grips by an inch, Winter's yelps bounces off the walls continuously, followed by your irritated shrieks and threatening hands ready to crush your best friend. The chase eventually dies down with the two of you panting, catching your breaths. You pull her short brown locks one last time before jumping on the bed, face down. Winter does the same and lands next to you, arms draping over each other.

A knock disrupts the peaceful atmosphere that engulfs the room, pulling you out of your slumber trance. You knew the pattern of the knock too well. It is practiced by all royal staff to ensure politeness and great manners whenever they are surrounded by royalties and VIPs. Included in training as per the Queen's request.

The door opens and it reveals a female servant. This one's not yours, judging by the blue brooch. ''Good evening, Your Highness. Ms. Kang wishes to see you in her office right now and orders me to fetch you.''

''And why is that?''

''She said nothing, Ma'am.''

That earns a boisterous laugh from your best friend, alongside a series of claps. ''Goodluck on hearing an hour of scolding, girl.''

Winter sends you a 'fighting' gesture. You give her your middle finger.

The trip to the advisor's office takes a few minutes as the private chambers of the royal members are at the east wing while gatherings, some royal duties, and part where it is open for the public are dealt with at the west side of the palace. You're still not mentally prepared when the wooden entrance makes its way for you. As your eyes meet the pair of the royal advisor, you know you should've prepared yourself much better.

''Good evening, Your Highness. Please do take a seat.''

Albeit it's probably showing on the courtesy of your eyebrows, you still cover your scoff with a cough under your breath. ''Drop the politeness, Eunhye. I don't need it.''

Eunhye removes the newspaper that serves as a hindrance for you to see her expression, and there you spot the disapproving look on her face. You shrug inwardly. What's new? You suppose people in their late 30s are quite uptight. Or it's just your former babysitter.

Kang Eunhye used to play with you a lot during your childhood whenever you and your friends didn't have a playdate. You should've known she was going to take up her late mother's position when Eunhye often disappeared after the death of the former royal advisor. That was when she started changing and became more strict with you.

''You don't need it, you say? Good. Because I don't perceive it as necessary when I tell you Her Majesty had gone haywire by yet another scandal of her sole heir that she asked me to not let you out of the palace if it's not for your studies or royal duties.''

''–what?! That's absurd!''

''Oh I think it's a light punishment for a scandal involving participating in a brawl, breaking the nose of a commoner and almost ending up in jail. Mind you, this happened in front of a controversial bar! And to top it all off, it hasn't been a week since you were caught sleeping in the streets because your drunk ass couldn't help yourself up!''

You scratch your head. ''...well, if the bodyguards came–''

''They would've if you didn't switch clothes with a random woman and make them follow her thinking it was you! Do you know they got suspended and will not receive a portion of their salary because of what YOU did? It's only because of the King that they were spared from getting fired.''

''Not my fault that the guards you hired were fools and easily deceived. They should've recognized my figure even with different clothes.''

''They are bodyguards. Not your devoted fans–,'' Eunhye sighs. ''Your Highness.''

A moment of silence travels along the soundwaves of the room decorated with blue.

''Okay…? What do you want me to do, then? Public appearances? Press conference?''

Eunhye, knowing her ways, will probably advise you to address the issue, apologize for the things that you don't even regret to pacify the netizen. And because they most likely (definitely) won't buy your fake ass apology statement and continue to terrorize you on social media, your schedule will be packed with attending public events to show your 'genuineness'.

You've done this routine more times than the royal court approves so you know what to expect. In fact, you already have a few suggestions ready on which events will possibly dust bits of dirt on your name. You know this like the back of your hand.

The Queen enters. ''No.''

Apparently, you don't..?

The moment your mother opens her mouth, you feel as if a myriad of buckets of icy water washes over you.

''You will marry a gentleman with a clean image. By then, you will be seen with great influence and garner people's love.''

Once. Twice. You slap yourself three more times but you don't wake up from this nightmare. Winter only looks at you pitifully while chewing her steak.

''Darling, would you please stop hurting yourself?'' A lovable tone is evident from the King's voice, accompanied by a concerned stare.

You sigh but the stabs of your fork through your own steak doesn't stop. ''Marry a gentleman.. I can't fucking believe this.''

''Language.'' The Queen says firmly. ''I apologize for getting ahead of you. I suppose you don't fancy a gentleman?''

''You apologize for assuming my preference but not for taking away my freedom..?''

''Do you wish to marry a lady, then?''

Silence fills the table. You sigh. ''Honestly? Anything would be fine.''

Your mother mums. ''Very well, then. You will be meeting your fianceé in 3 days–''

''–as long as I get to choose who I am marrying.''

''That won't be possible. The person needs to have the most influence and power among your age. The gender will be the only thing we can let you choose.''

''You don't have problems with having a queer princess?''

The Queen frowns. ''Of course, why would we? It is neither a crime nor a sin.''

Your father then nods. ''The royal court fully supports it since two decades ago.''

''But not the 'choosing your own lover'?'' You can only shake your head. You turn to the maid nearby. ''Please bring this to my room, I'll eat there instead.''

Everyone watches you in silence. No one at the table dares to scold you for your behavior.

''She has the rights to be upset this time.'' The King comments.

''Yes, she does.'' The Queen agrees.

Winter warily looks around, pursing her lips as she raises her hand. ''Uhm.. Your Majesty?''

''Yes, Lady Minjeong?''

Winter winces at the mention of her government name. ''As your daughter's best friend, will it be possible for me to know who she'll be marrying?''

Smiling, the King snaps his finger. ''Ah.. let's see if the future lover would pass the best friend's vibe check.''

His husband sends him a curt glance. ''Don't ever try to use generational phrases, it doesn't suit you. Back to Lady Minjeong, yes, it is possible. Would you like to know now?''

''A-already? I thought you're still looking through the profiles?''

''We have tons of staff, Lady Minjeong.''

''Right, I forgot about that.'' Winter sheepishly smiles.

''I'll excuse myself then. I have an appointment with a VIP in an hour, I have to go.'' Just as the husband and wife head towards the exit of the dining hall, the Queen turns. ''It is Prince Jaehyun of South Korea. A good man and the best one for the princess.''

''None on twitter. Nadda on instagram. Nothing on their official website. Heck, there's not even a single picture on google! Does this Prince Jaehyun even exist?'' Winter exclaims as she continues to scroll on her phone.

Frowning, you throw a pillow in her direction. ''Let the others hear your whining and they'll think you have a crush on my soon-to-be-fianceé. Why are you so interested in him?''

''Well, duh! You're literally marrying him, that's enough reason for me to get curious! The question here is why are YOU not interested?''

''I'm more interested in that man at the bar.''

''You should give some! This is the person you'll be spending your life with we're talking about!''

Scoffing, you tug the ends of her hair. ''Will you stop saying I'll marry him? The engagement will be called off sooner than mom and dad can even realize it's coming.''

Winter gasps dramatically and shots up to sit. ''What if it's some old man with a stinky smell and white hair? Oh my god what if Her Majesty agreed to marry you off to some ugly ass 50 year old man for the sake of the country's betterment?!''

Threatening to punch her if she doesn't stop with the overthinking, Winter zips her mouth as she decides to scroll on her phone once again.

You sigh. ''Pretty sure, Mom wouldn't do that, right? I mean she said something about being the best out of the people among our age so..''

''Huh, look at this.''

Winter crawls to you from the part of the she is lying, hands careful not to swipe her screen and risk refreshing the page. You squint your eyes to see.

PANN:

Crown Prince Jaehyun Once Again Stuns The People Of South Korea With His Amazing Visuals.

[ +217, -5 ] It's a shame that we're not allowed to post a photo of him on the internet. How am I supposed to stare at his face for a long time then? How am I supposed to appreciate and share his beauty?

[ +190, -3 ] Daebak! The royal family just visited our village and the rumors weren't lying when they said Prince Jaehyun is handsome ahwksjskww. He's like a walking statue!

[ +165, -20 ] I would die for a man like Prince Jaehyun. Very gentleman and polite. One time, I was with my niece when I met him and the youngest prince in a mall. My niece really wanted the toy car but Prince Jaehyun and Prince Jaemin got the last one before use but they still gave it to my niece.

[ +132, -56 ] Heol ㅋㅋㅋ Of course he would say that, he has an image to keep up! Royalties would try to polish their personalities in public often because they can't afford to lose the trust of the people. It's so fucking dumb how you think the prince acts that way because that just how he is and not because he has an image to take care of.

[ +122, -13 ] The comment above lolol. You're just jealous that the prince has everything you don't; looks, manners, and brains ㅋㅋㅋ

[ +84, -7 ] I don't think Prince Jaehyun does it because people are watching him. I've seen him lecture Prince Jaemin about how he shouldn't expect to get what he wants every time and mind you no one was inside our store that time as our store isn't quite popular so he couldn't be doing it for his image. I feel like Prince Jaehyun is genuine!

[ +65, -5 ] Didn't a lot of people see him wearing clothes with no brands? And that he has a good relationship with the youngest prince? Idk about you but I'd say that speaks a lot about him.

[ +52, -3 ] I've met Prince Jaehyun a lot of times, the only thing I could say is; 'Ultimately Prince-Like'! Handsome and tall, like he's written by Taylor Swift ㅋㅋㅋ. Prince Jaehyun is a dream *three heart emojis*

As you read over the first comment again, the curve on your forehead only deepens. They are not allowed to post a photo of their prince? Then, that would explain the lack of appearance of the royalty everywhere on social media. This pricks your interest.

''That's a bit.. odd. They forbid any pictures of that prince from getting uploaded.''

''I know right! It's strange. Why would they hide the prince's face if he's truly handsome like the people said?''

You suck the top of your teeth. ''Maybe he's actually ugly and those that say otherwise were paid people. Or probably royal staffs ordered to spread some good words about their prince.''

''Why are you so hell-bent in making him ugly? Can't accept that your parents actually chose someone handsome, rich, and has good personality?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively. Oh how you wish you could swipe off that annoying smirk on Winter's face. Is there a rule saying a princess can escape any law including those that involves unaliving a certain daughter of a duke? Hopefully, there is!

If, miraculously, your parents bring that man from the bar to you and arrange him to a marriage with you, maybe then you'll agree to tie up the knot at such a young age. In fact, you might even drop down to your knees and serve him–

The alcohol, or lack thereof, is definitely not good for you.

With the news of your engagement being released plus the anger from the people that is far from dwindling anytime soon, Winter didn't think twice to join you when the idea of getting drunk comes up. There's nothing better than drowning yourself in alcohol after constantly having to deal with the disappointed people of your country.

However, the night is just near getting young when your personal bodyguards dragged you and your best friend out of the bar. It is said that the royal advisor ordered them to do so but your mother was the root. It angered you to the core. They took your freedom of marrying someone you truly love and now, they're depriving you of coping with it as well? How controlling.

Winter was sent home right after both of you got howled back to the royal car. A couple of warnings from the Duke to his daughter and you know something is off.

Winter's father isn't one to indulge himself in his daughter's vices. Sure, he keeps tabs on her every now and then but the Duke of Boryeong never attempts to control Minjeong as if some kind of robot, lest he suffers from the wrath of Duchess of Boryeong.

You could only wish your own parents did the same. Maybe they will. If you beg for a couple of days in front of the palace while dawning your white hanbok like those korean historical films that Winter likes to watch.

Shutting the car door close, you pass a whisper of 'thank you' to the driver before striding inside the palace. There aren't many people aside from those guarding the entrance which is why you don't find the need to be extra careful on your way. Being free from the shackles of aches caused by your heels is the only thing on your mind.

Just as you turn a corner, straight down the hall that leads to the dining area– you collide with someone. It'll send you a few steps backwards if it's not for the grip on your blazer. Your vision clearing takes a couple of seconds, courtesy of being tipsy from your previous activity.

''Is everything alright?'' A rather soothing yet deep voice asks you, hands already back on his sides.

Your attention diverts to the man that steadies you. Sharp cheekbones in contrast to the soft jawline, almond eyes, and a slightly chapped lips. You wonder if they're naturally pink or the color comes from cosmetic products.

''Your Highness–'' Eunhye appears out of thin air and your bodies separate right as the royal advisor sets her eyes on you.

Your Highness? Who could this be?

''Ah, I see, you've met each other already. Shall we take this to the dining..? Her Majesty awaits alongside the King and Queen of South Korea.''

No words are exchange between you. Silence fills the air. Clicking of heels appearing every now and then until they reach where your parents and the leaders of South Korea chatters. Everyone stands before their seats at the sight of two crown heirs.

You might be rebellious but no way you're gonna forget the basic manners each person should possess. Doing a brief curtsy, you earn a loving smile from the Queen of South Korea. It radiates warmth and comfort.

The man beside you does a bow as well that makes his body fold to a 90 degrees. It was too formal for your liking. Too ancient royalty. Too prince-like. So this is what the mysterious prince of South Korea looks like. Somehow, it irks you to the bones.

Gritting your teeth, you sit at the right side of your father after exchanging pleasantries. Each person that occupies the seats of the table starts to dig in as they begin to discuss the matter which you assume is about your issue.

You thought you could go through this dinner in peace until the conversation, courtesy of your mother, diverts to you.

''I've seen the news but it doesn't bother me at all. The princess is merely having fun, just like those around her age do. I, myself, have gone through that phase. '' Queen Miyoung laughs softly. ''The Crown Princess is only at the wrong place, at the wrong time. We used to get in trouble for sneaking out often before as well, isn't that right?''

With the amount of times you've gotten snapped by the paps and you were caught doing shits that is considered inappropriate behavior for a royalty like you— surely, it's not a coincidence anymore. Ever since your first scandal came up, the media that follows your every step doubles. They are always hungry for a headline. And you cannot deny the fact that you're giving them a reason to use you as one.

Your mother reciprocates her friend's chuckles, shaking her head as they recall their memories during when they were your age. Surprisingly, there's a relief inside you. Well, at least the Queen of South Korea doesn't think you're a defect in the royal family.

''I think the wild-like personality of our dear perfectly contrasts the gentle and tame personality of Prince Jaehyun, which is a charming point that the people will eventually love once they got to know about this marriage.'' Your mother adds.

Balling up your fist, you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to prevent your eyes from rolling.

''Oh absolutely!'' Queen Miyoung places a hand on her son's shoulder, a smile once again appearing on her captivating features. ''My son here is known in our country as someone who is compassionate, emphatic, and humble. Talented on top of that as well!''

Adoration paints your mother's face. ''So I've heard. I feel assured that someone like Prince Jaehyun will be taking care of my daughter.''

''Please, Your Majesty, you can just call me Jaehyun.''

The velvety voice swoons the hearts of the Queen. ''Alright, alright. My heart is beaming at the thought of having you as my son-in-law soon, Jaehyun.''

What the hell? What did this Jaehyun do for him to gain the favor of those around him? Even your father is nodding and smiling in approval as he shares a conversation with this insufferable prince!

''Humor me, Jaehyun.'' Your father speaks. ''What do you do as a hobby?''

Probably plan how he can convince everyone with that fake ass personality lol.

Jaehyun pats the napkin on his lips before replying. ''Not much, Sir. I indulge myself in music instruments and sometimes, I also sing for fun.''

Did he do his research? That's your father's favorite pastime!

''Ah, singing! If you didn't know, that's one of the things I like the most especially if I'm consumed with boredom.''

Your mother nods. ''Catch him singing while signing papers at his office. Or while feeding our dogs.''

Chuckles blooms on the table.

''Maybe if we have enough time, you could sing for us?'' Your mother suggests as the others agree.

Jaehyun shakes his head with a fist hiding his smile. ''I'm not great at singing but I'll make sure to prepare once that time comes.''

Acting humble now, eh? He doesn't have to prepare because you'll make sure that time won't come. The skin on your forehead creases even before you could stop it. This is stressing you out more than you anticipated.

Deciding to release your stress on something else, you proceed to harshly cut your Sole Meuniére with the knife prepared by the kitchen staff all the while pursing your lips. Poor innocent Mr. Fish, suffering from the wrath of a princess.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 1, do things that will turn him off. Forking the sea creature's meat, you make sure to chew extra loudly, looking straight at Jaehyun's eyes as you open your mouth every now and then while munching. Surely, anyone would grimace at the sight of chewed fish meat inside one's mouth and at the sound it makes.

Anyone, Prince Jaehyun not included. You slow down the movement of your jaw when the man only sports a brief squint of his eyes before turning away, as if he didn't see the disgusting view you just showed him. Is he not disgusted? Hah! Maybe this is how he actually chews when there's no people around so he's not bothered by it. That's right!

You nod subtly at the voices in your head, gulping the food down when it starts to feel a little weird on your tongue. Reaching for the glass of water, you sip the liquid to tend your throat.

''So about the wedding next week–''

The people gasp, your father standing up from his seat. Series of coughing sounds emit from you as you pat your chest continuously.

''I'm sorry– the water went down the wrong pipe.'' You face towards the other way while massaging your throat, your back getting tapped by your father.

What were they thinking, mentioning that fucking wedding while eating? What if you die from choking? Far-fetched, but you don't cross out the possibilities anyway.

Clearing your throat, you give them a smile after fixing yourself. ''Did I hear it right? The wedding is next week? Isn't that quite fast? We're not chasing a due date here. Plus, we haven't even announced an engagement yet. I'm sure the people will be shocked if I'm suddenly married or engaged in just a matter of days. I suggest prolonging the engagement for– let's say.. a month? I think that would be realistic enough.''

King Jaekyung sends you a grin. ''Dear, your engagement is trending on social media platforms as we speak.''

''W-what?''

You quickly fish out your phone. You don't even have to search either your name or Jaehyun's because an article about your engagement pops up the moment the app loads.

JUST IN: The Crown Princess Revealed To Be Engaged To The Crown Prince of South Korea

After getting involved in numerous issues, the Crown Princess had dropped off the limelight for a few days only to surprise us with an amazing news. According to the exclusive interview held two days ago, Her Highness shyly reveals that the reason for her disappearance on the radar is because a certain man snatches her focus with a shiny ring!

The princess happily shares that she and Prince Jaehyun, Crown Prince of South Korea, have been in a healthy relationship for 4 years now and still going strong. During the early months of dating, the two royalties express their worries about causing an unnecessary ruckus and heartbreaks if they ever go through a break up. According to Her Highness, a stable relationship wasn't exactly guaranteed as they live in different countries and have heavy responsibilities as the future leaders which is why they avoided letting the people know about their romance until they are sure that they can handle the consequences all at once.

''The country had been experiencing some serious issues back then so when Jaehyun and I started to get in touch, we decided not to make it public immediately. Not only were we just starting but we also didn't want to stir another headline if we ever broke up. We were teenagers 4 years ago, we were kids. We know that we are bound to make mistakes but as the future leaders of our countries, adding our childish break up to the countries' problems isn't something that we desire. Thankfully though, our relationship stayed strong and sturdy. There were a few fights here and there, of course, but Jaehyun and I remained understanding with each other. Those years were the reason why I didn't hesitate to say yes when he proposed to me. It was just the two of us, no cameras, no media, no other people. Saying this might be off to some but I was glad that only the both of us got to witness it. As someone who lives in front of the camera and prying eyes, we enjoyed the privacy and intimacy we had during the proposal. We initially didn't plan to have our wedding soon but we figured that there's no point in prolonging what's been a long time coming. Our love kept us intact throughout the years and until now, I could say that I'm still very much and deeply falling in love with him.'' said the Crown Princess.

Furthermore, Prince Jaehyun also shared that one of the reasons that he hid his face was to protect his relationship with his future lover, now Crown Princess. Show more…

''I don't– I don't remember getting interviewed for this...''

The Queen massages your shoulder. ''That's the power of influence, love.''

A shrieking scream jostles Winter in her bed despite being on the other line. Rubbing her ears, Winter felt as if her eardrums got busted just now. She munches on her cookies while she waits for you to be finished with all your screaming and throwing angry punches at the poor teddy bear beside your pillows.

The screeching stops. You look at Winter through the screen of your phone. ''Humor me.''

Eyes boring to you, she didn't stop licking the crumbs that were left on her fingers. ''What is it?''

''Making up stories about my supposed relationship with that man was one thing, but seriously? Telling the whole country I'm still fucking falling in love? Deeply even!''

You hear your bestfriend giggle. ''You think them making everyone think you're smitten with a man is worse than creating fake ass stories about your love life?''

''Well, Isn't it?''

''You're unbelievable.''

''Tell me something I don't know.'' Getting off your bed, you head out of the room. ''Anyways, text you later.'' Blowing her a kiss, the call ended just as you jog down the stairs.

It's been three days since you last saw that prince and those days might be the happiest of your entire life, sans the nags from your mom to get closer with that twat. For a few suns, you've surprisingly experienced peace.

However, it didn't last a long time. It seems like when God precipitated a rain of misfortunes, you were in the middle– swimming in it. Instead of peacefully staying at the palace just like you had always done, you received the news saying you'll move to a place– an apartment. And you received it through waking up one day and seeing them packing your things without even asking your permission. You were asking yourself whether it's real, or it's just a figment of your imagination as sleep still buzzed in your veins.

Now, what's so unfortunate about having your own place? Jeong Jaehyun, is what's unfortunate. You won't forget that infuriating smirk that he sports as he watches you glare at the boxes in the living room, boring holes in them. Complaints start to spill out of your mouth in a whisper despite being in the same space with him in just a matter of an hour.

Dividing the closet and choosing bedrooms is a nightmare. Everyone knows you've got things enough for 3 people, including your heels collection. Storing your possessions requires a big space, but Jeong Jaehyun thought it was a great idea to upped you and place his stupid rubber shoes (or sneakers) collections first without leaving any space for your heels.

Jaehyun stands by the door, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as he witnesses you turn into some kind of witch, casting different spells, desperate to cast his annoying ass away. It's so comical that it had Jaehyun's shoulder shake as he stifles his laugh. A witch with a collection of heels? Truly, one of a kind.

''Let's split them, Jeong. You take the right side, I'll take the left.''

''No can do.''

''The fuck? Are you expecting me to leave my babies on the floor?''

Jaehyun quirks a brow. ''What's so bad about that? I'm sure your 'babies' will not mind where they are placed, nonetheless.''

''Well, I do!''

The prince turns his heels, but before walking away, he looks at you over his shoulder. ''Learn to take a no, witch.''

''W–what? A fucking what? Hey! Jeong, you jerk– get back here and repeat what you said! Oh you piece of– you did not just say what I heard you said.''

Needless to say, the night ended with you cackling like the devil you are in your room while Jaehyun stays at the kitchen, pressing a cold compress to his skin, hissing. This should go away by tomorrow, or he wouldn't be able to explain how he got a faint mark of slippers on his forehead. Prepare a protective gear if he wants to taunt a witch, Jaehyun notes.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 2, piss the fuck out of him like he does to you.

Being the menace that he is, Jeong made it his daily errand to annoy the hell out of you. His day wouldn't go by without doing things that ticks you off so much you just wish something important would come up in Korea so Jaehyun would be obligated to leave your country and magically stay there for good.

Example no.1, the cookies you baked for yourself.

''Jeong, where's the cookies?''

''What cookies?''

''The ones in the tray. On the countertop.''

''I don't know no cookies.''

The crumbs on the corner of his lips says otherwise. You waited for half an hour to eat that!

''You– Jeong!!''

Example no.2 followed not long after. You were running late for a hang out with Winter as you couldn't find your today's pick of pair of heels. No, you wouldn't leave this apartment until you find that very pair. Your outfit won't look put together if you wear a different one.

A quarter before 9 PM, you still haven't found the shoes. Did you perhaps leave it at the palace? That couldn't be! You swear you saw it yesterday. Going back and forth to the walk-in closet, living room, and your bedroom– you're this close to tearing your hair apart and turning the whole apartment upside down.

Your phone pings and displays Winter's message. ''Fuuuck, where did I put that?''

Washing your hands over your face, you tilt your head upwards as you let out an exasperated sigh, stomping your feet in annoyance. When you open your eyes, you see the shoes you had been looking for the past 30 minutes. At the ceiling. Where the broken ceiling fan used to be.

How the hell did that even get— You recall seeing Jaehyun standing on a ladder this morning, saying something about fixing the fan.

''JEONG JAEHYUN, YOU FUCKER!!''

Boisterous laughter echoes from the bastard's room.

You still haven't recovered from the heels incident when example no.3 shows itself.

Hammered from drinking all night long after getting your hands on your shoes, you are swaying and tripping as you reach the apartment, slurring your nonsensical words. You don't know how, but you got home safely anyway. A hangover was expected yet it is harsher than you thought it would be.

''Ah fuck..'' You hold your pounding head.

Heading towards the kitchen, you fend your drying throat some water. Washing yourself is not on the list as you change out of your black bodycon dress and fit yourself into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. You jog out of the building after fighting the urge to throw up the elevator and arrive at the convenience store in no time, your breath that reeks of alcohol be damned.

Picking up a few items for your hangover didn't take long, the cashier is already punching them a few minutes upon your arrival.

''You..''

You bore your eyes to the cashier. ''Yes?''

''...Nothing, Ma'am.'' He then proceeds to tell you the total of what you bought.

There's no further exchange between the two of you after that, so when you get your plastic bag, you walk back to your apartment. As you prepare yourself some cup noodles, you tilt your head, tsking.

Is it just you or the cashier has been giving you some looks? You might be suffering from a headache but pretty sure, you're sober enough to notice the subtle glances the cashier has been giving you. Did you do something stupid again last night? But Eunhye would be calling you first in the morning if you did. Maybe he recognizes your face? The country's princess' face is plastered everywhere.

''Whatever. Why am I even thinking about it?'' Ever since the engagement, you noticed that you became more cautious in your actions. The streets say the lioness got tamed by a prince. You say you just learned your lesson not to underestimate your mother's punishments.

Staring at your food, your bladder got triggered at the sight of the soup. Peeing what's probably the alcohol in your system, you stand before the sink to wash your hands. And when you look up, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion.

You are shocked. You are angry. You want to hide yourself from embarrassment. You want to punch the wall. And on top of that, you desire to unalive a royalty, preferably a crown prince that comes from South Korea.

A smile that appears to stretch the ends of your lips. A massive black dot on your nose and cheeks. Two big horns at the top of your eyebrows.

''JEONG JAEHYUN YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD!!''

There were a lot of pranks that Jaehyun had played, with big ones not failing to show up each week. Hiding your charger. Stealing your snacks. Mismatching your socks. And many more that ruin your day so often that the second thing you'd do after waking up is checking for the prank that the prince had done for the day. You are frustrated. And it's not like you to let these kinds of things pass without getting back. This time, you're making sure he'll order to stop the wedding and regret messing with you.

Shuffling in her bed, Winter huffs. ''What do you want?''

''Help me curate a list of the most infuriating pranks.''

Your best friend frowns. ''What for? Are you turning to a kid now? Or perhaps, you're..'' Then she gasps. ''You're carrying a kid?!''

''..The fuck?'' How did she even come up with that conclusion?

''Isn't that what happens when two people who hate each other's guts live under the same roof? Like enemies to lovers!''

You scoff. ''I told you to stop watching kdramas.''

''I'm Korean, duh!'' Winter rolls her eyes. ''Don't forget I'm still upset you took a long time before telling me you literally moved in with your fianceé.''

''Well now you know, and I'm asking for help so I could escape this hellhole.''

''Wait– so you're telling me to suggest pranks in order for you to move out? How does pranking even equals to that?''

Giving her a bored stare, you click your tongue. ''I'll piss the hell of out him, he won't be able to sleep properly at night.''

Winter squeaks. ''You're pranking the prince–?!''

''Yeah, no shit. Who else would it be?''

''Never thought I'd to live the day I'll see you getting on prank wars with your fianceé.''

''Yadda yadda. Just help me with it, please.'' Winter fake gags as she watches you bat your eyes at her.

''Promise me when you get in trouble, my name won't get drag.''

''You're my ride or die, though..''

''...''

''...Fine.''

''Yay!!''

Jaehyun passes the clock a glance. He's up early so he doesn't have to worry about getting late to his appointment for the day. His footsteps ring from his bedroom, eventually transfering to the kitchen. Just as Jaehyun reaches out for a mug, a container catches his attention.

''Made too much, you can eat it if you want.'' The sticker on it says.

His eyes must be playing with him. What has gone to the witch? Should he be scared? Although overthinking aside, you mentioned that you only made more than enough for one person, hence giving it to him. Welp, free breakfast for him then.

Sitting down, Jaehyun takes off his coat lest he stains it minutes before he attends an appointment. The lid clicks open and his nostrils hit with an appetizing scent of eggs and bacons. There's some rice and tomatoes on the side as well.

Biting the bacon along with rice, Jaehyun chews slowly, checking out the taste. He then hums, figuring out there's nothing to be afraid of. They taste like what they should've been. Strangely, Jaehyun thinks it tastes more delicious.

Today, you are not at the unit as it is the start of your 'redeeming reputation' era. Jaehyun ponders what you're doing right now. Are you sleepy? He heard you talking to your friend at 2am. Have you eaten breakfast properly? You eat a little in the morning. Are you having fun? Or you're just pretending to be? You don't fancy gatherings unless it's with people you are close to.

Jaehyun doesn't know when he started thinking of you, he just catches himself wondering what you're up to often. Is he catching feelings? Is he getting infatuated? Jaehyun doesn't think much of it. If he's developing feelings, then so be it. Would it be bad for him to harbor romantic feelings for his–

Saliva lands everywhere on the counter as Jaehyun launches forward, spitting what he ate at the empty spot of his plate. ''What the fuck..?''

Using a fork, he pokes the egg, turning it sideways, up and down. The food breaks down with all the movement, revealing the receipt that left an overly salty taste on Jaehyun's buds.

Fishing out his phone, he snaps a picture of the devil food in front of him before sending it to you, uncaring if it looks disgusting and all chewed up.

JH: What the hell is this?

Not even a minute, you reply. As if you've been waiting for him to message you.

You: Uh.. egg? Duh.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue.

JH: I know it's a goddamn egg. Why the fuck does it have clumps of rock salts in it? We put iodized, not the huge ones.

You: Heh. *Tongue out and eyes shut closed tightly emoji*

Jaehyun gulps down his water alongside his irritation, eyebrows meeting each other. He tries to settle for the bacon and rice but the demonic egg fucked up his taste buds and now, he can't enjoy his breakfast. Jaehyun should've known his fate was written the moment he decided to prank you.

Little did the royalty know, it was just the start of his road to slow death. Starting from the salty as fuck eggs, Jaehyun soon finds out you took the remote of the TV and so he couldn't watch the movie he had been waiting for since the announcement of its release date, unfortunately Jaehyun is not one to remember his passwords– he couldn't log in on his mobile phone.

What comes next is the kitchen sprinklers. You must've noticed Jaehyun cooks his own food from thereon (the egg incident) and figures out it'll be a good idea to use it against him. Jaehyun didn't see the lack of labels on the sprinklers, and with his hands already memorizing the placement of herbs and spices, Jaehyun grabs what he knows is the right one. Long story short, the prince opts for food delivery as his kimchi jjigae was for the ants. It was like the demon egg all over again, except this time, it was fucking sweet.

3 days later, when Jaehyun's favorite sneakers went missing, he knew he hadn't misplaced them. Is he unlucky that you're out of the city to do your princess duties? Maybe. Is he gonna let this piss him off? No, that means satisfying your goals. This is nothing, Jaehyun can search for it, surely it's somewhere in the house.

Wrong. Well, it is in the area of the house but it's not in the house. Guess where Jaehyun found his fucking sneakers? On the fucking rooftop. How did you even put that there, he doesn't have a clue. In the end, Jaehyun had to climb a ladder and fell once at the third step (he's quite clumsy, yes) before retrieving his shoes.

As Jaehyun sits through a meeting in a stained white (or should he say pink) dress shirt, he is surely determined to get that win back

Acting civil with your fianceé is something you didn't expect after a constant back and forth of ruining each other's day, but you suppose it's only appropriate in a dinner with the family of both sides. Royals like meals as family bonding it seems, not that you know. Or do your parents consider discussing country matters on dinners as one?

Sipping your champagne, you hum quietly at the taste, too busy in your own world to listen to whatever conversation they are having at the other side of the table. That is until your father softly calls your name. You turn to him and pay attention.

''How's your appearances doing so far?''

''Good, I guess..? If it's not, Eunhye won't let me rest for a day or two.''

It's not like the King and Queen only orders you to help in charities and orphanages solely for building a good reputation for you, they also genuinely care about the unfortunate.

''That's great to hear then.'' Queen Miyoung smiles. And even though you're once struck by her beauty, it doesn't sit well with you.

''Hmm?''

What your mother says next emits a confused look from you. ''Prince Jaehyun will be accompanying you in every schedule, especially those that involves the media.''

You frown. ''But I thought it was for my image? Why would I need him to come with me?''

''Because once people see you getting along with your husband, moreover someone known for his kind and compassionate personality, it'll be easier to convince them that you've changed. Prince Jaehyun will be a great help to you.''

Seeing the grin that the man in front of you is not-so trying to hide, you clench your fist around the cutleries. How irritating.

''It was all thanks to the Prince for he voluntarily comes forward to join you on your appearances including those that does not involve medias.''

So the suffering you'll experience for the following weeks was his idea?

Squinting your eyes at the prince, you reach your foot forward, your face remains unchanging. You observe Jaehyun who's happily eating his food for a few seconds before smirking and stomping down on his foot hard enough to make it hard for him to hide his pathetic whimper.

Concern and worries are thrown at him but he dismisses them with his usual flower smile. Jaehyun then looks at you, his eyes diverting your subtly hidden fist, gesturing to punch him as a representative for your irritation at him. Jaehyun tongues his cheek and chuckles. He dares to fucking chuckle?!

Why is he smiling as if he won the olympics? Why is he so smug about this? And more importantly, why is your heart racing as you stare at the dimples shyly peeking out?

You yelp as you accidentally bite your tongue. Before you could even reach for yours, Jaehyun shoves his glass of water to your hands. Everyone is looking at the exchange, you have no choice but to accept his offer. You wanted them to believe this marriage fell apart naturally, and not because you sabotaged it. Though, you plan on doing the latter.

King Jaekyung's snicker rings on your ears. ''Ah, it seems like the two have been getting along. Perhaps the shared apartment was indeed a great idea.''

Your mother follows right after, clapping lightly. ''Right, right. Look at them, treating each other like real lovers. I'm not gonna be surprised if they themselves request for the wedding to be done soon.''

''How lovely. Are you alright though, darling? What has caused you to bite your tongue?'' Queen Miyoung worries.

''It's noth–''

''She was too busy staring at my face, Mom.'' Now, what the flying fuck is this motherfuck trying to play?

Queen Miyoung squeaks. ''Is that so?''

''Yes– my fianceé here even once said I'm too handsome, I could be up as an exhibit in Louvre.''

You give Jaehyun a smile so sarcastic he will know to run for his life the moment you two get out of here. The other people in the room thought it was a smile fondness instead. While Jaehyun sends you a finger heart, you itch to send him the middle finger.

Your mother shares a giggle with Mrs. Jung. ''Ah.. young love.''

Jaehyun earns another stomp.

Days after the dinner with the Kings and Queens sees you and Jaehyun in a kindergarten wearing pink white polka dots aprons. The little humans cheer as their teacher announces that they'll be designing their own cakes today with the help of the visitors. Visitors being you and Jaehyun.

Raising a piece of fruit, you snatch the kids' attention. ''Who wants some strawberries?''

''I want to! I want–!'' Little Seol-a makes grabby hands to you, making you chuckle.

''Okay, okay. Say ah..'' Popping the strawberry in Seol-a's mouth, you receive a cute giggle and 'thank you' from the little girl.

As the teacher announces the start of the making, everyone quickly gets to work, eager to create their most beautiful versions of cakes. Since you also have a cake to decorate, you only look at the kids every now and then, checking up on them. So far, everyone's doing good.

A high-pitched voice calls you. ''Can you please help me with the icing..?''

Smiling, you leave your seat and transfer beside Mina. ''What should we do?''

''I want it pink like Seol-a's, it's so pretty!''

Mina's words pull Seol-a out of her focus, turning to the two of you. Seol-a purses her lips. ''But I'm making it for my mommy. Does your mommy likes pink too?''

Mina looks down and her eyebrows crease in thinking. ''No. My mama likes blue, I think..''

Watching the exchange, you could tell that Seol-a doesn't want to tell Mina off but at the same time, she doesn't want her friend to do exactly the same as she's decorating hers specifically at the thought of her mom.

You decide to step up. ''Then, Mina, would you like yours to be blue?''

Mina ponders for a second before nodding, smiling a bit. ''Okay..''

Seol-a perks up. ''Mina! I'll be pink and yours will be blue, and then let's decorate it the same so our mommies would get matching cakes!''

Mina lights up at what she heard. She will have a matching cake with Seol-a, yet also have her own version. The two girls squeals at the cute teddy bears and gushes over the pastel colors their cakes will be. You smile in adoration.

Minutes pass, little humans ask for your assistance until almost everyone at your table is finished. You feel a tap on your back.

''Hi, Rowoon!''

The chubby boy smiles cutely at you, hugging you. ''Teacher, can you come help me please? Teacher Jaehyun is a bit busy with the others.''

Glancing at Jaehyun, a bunch of kids flock around him, calling his name and asking for his help. It has no sign of dwindling down so you nod, heading towards the boy's place after telling your own group that you'll be at the other table. As you help Rowoon with his cakes, you fail to ignore the conversations he's having with the kids due to the proximity.

''I love chocolates, I eat them everyday! Teacher, do you like chocolates?''

''Yes, of course. Chocolates is one of my favorites.''

''I like chocolate too but my mom won't let me eat more than three. Does your mom let you eat a lot of chocolate, Teacher?''

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head at the core memory of Queen Miyoung scolding him for eating too much sweets. ''No, she doesn't. Your teeth will turn bad if you eat a lot of it and mommies are just taking care of you.''

''Turn bad? Like fall out–?!''

''Most likely.'' The little boy covers his mouth dramatically, earning another laugh from Jaehyun.

''Teacher! Your cake is so pretty!''

''Why, thank you, Yuna.'' Jaehyun boops her nose with a clean finger.

''You should get an award for having a pretty cake.''

One kid appears. ''My mommy gives me kisses as an award!''

''Me too!''

''Does your mommy gives you kisses too, Teacher?''

What's with these kids and questions about mommies?

''No, she doesn't.''

''Oh no.. is she mad at you?''

Jaehyun giggles. ''She's not. She used to give me kisses but not anymore because I'm a big boy now.''

''Ah, you don't want kisses anymore?''

Thinking he will earn kisses from the little kids if he says no, Jaehyun tells them he loves kisses. Humming, one of them then points a finger.

''Teacher will give you kisses as a reward if your cake is the prettiest!''

Jaehyun follows the path where the kid is pointing at. ''Really?'' His eyes landed on you, still and unmoving. Jaehyun bites his lower lip to stop the laugh rumbling on his chest.

Jaehyun grins. ''Then I should work on making this the prettiest cake ever made.''

You almost choke on your own spit.

Articles after articles, headlines after headlines. Old people gush about how pure your interactions are. Adults nudge each other at how you sweetly stare. Teenagers envies how Jaehyun performs all love language at you. It seems like everything now revolves around the Crown Princess and her lover.

The crowd certainly loves the contrasts between you and Jaehyun whereas you're more carefree and casual while Jaehyun sticks to his formal attitude. One thing that became popular amongst your supporters, or 'shippers', is the picture of you– like the diva that you are– wearing a pink miniskirt, corset top, socks with ribbons on top, mary jane pumps, and a cream loose cardigan sits beside Jaehyun who is dawned in his usual dress shirt, slacks, and blazer. You cannot forget that fanfic you found wherein Jaehyun is a CEO and you're a supermodel. Shippers are imaginative and delusional at the same time.

It's been 2 months since you've started attending events with the prince and it wasn't as hellish as you thought. Maybe because Jaehyun can't cause a problem in public, or maybe he just doesn't find the need to. Nonetheless, that didn't cease the fire that is the prank war. It goes on and on that even Winter finds it hilarious at this point. Who knew the lovely couple searched for a list of pranks to do in their free time so they could piss each other off?

Lately though, you've noticed (actually it was Winter) that your pranks have been getting less harmful to your daily lives and had just become something to enlighten the mood. Like the clown that pops up when you open the fridge and the snake balloon hidden in the tin can. Very uncharacteristically, you even find yourselves posting each other's reactions on your stories. And if Jaehyun created an instagram account just to upload videos and pictures of you, you're not so sure. A thing you're certain though is that the dislike for Jaehyun had faded away and was replaced by something else. Something you're yet to find out.

''A penny for your thoughts?'' A finger snaps you out of your thoughts. Jaehyun grins.

You shake your head and continue looking for the best quality of vegetables as Jaehyun follows you around, pushing your cart. Another thing that you've grown to get used to is doing groceries with Jaehyun. Very domestic, isn't it?

''Can we buy this one?'' Jaehyun points at the packs of big marshmallows.

Frowning, you shake your head. ''What're you gonna need it for? It'll just expired at the cabinet.''

''No, it won't.''

''How so?''

''I'll eat it before you can even say chubby bunny.''

''No, Jeong.''

''But we have a mini chocolate fountain machine at home!''

''Yes, a fountain machine you, may I say–'' You face him. ''–unnecessarily bought. Literally no reason to buy one.''

''Well now I can finally use it and it won't be useless anymore..?''

Tsking, you walk away to look at the meat. In the end, Jaehyun huffs, staring longingly at his marshmallows before tailing you, steps heavy.

After shopping for at most 2 weeks worth of food, you type on your phone while Jaehyun carries all those bags. So much for being a macho man. Winter sends an atrocious idea and forces a laugh out of you.

''What's funny?'' Jaehyun asks like a curious cat, peeking at your phone.

''Winter says we should announce that all of this is fake at the upcoming press conference and film Eunhye's reaction. God, that would be hilarious honestly.''

''Oh..'' And curiosity finally kills the cat. Jaehyun mums. Are you faking it all this time? Are you not enjoying your time with him? Are you faking having fun whenever you're with him, even now?

You are about to ask Jaehyun for the car keys but as someone who spends their entire life under the spotlight, you know a camera when you see one. Pocketing your phone, you stride towards the man at the car beside Jaehyun's. Said man tries to run away but you are quicker with your feet and grab him by his collar, you hear Jaehyun's call of your name.

''What's wro–''

''Give me the phone.''

''Why– what's happeni–''

''Give me the fucking phone!'' Shoving the man to a car, he winces at the pain in his back. When he surrenders his phone, you delete his video and throw it on the ground before stomping on it, crashing it.

Jaehyun calls your name again. ''Why did you do that? Stop, you're choking him.''' Though obviously wanting to calm you down, Jaehyun doesn't touch you anywhere, opting to wash his palm over his face.

You ignore him and focus on the man shivering in your hold. ''Tell me, what the fuck do want?''

''Nothing–''

You dig your forearm deeper to his neck. ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, you fucking twig. What do you want?''

The man struggles to breathe but attempts to answer anyway. ''I–I was.. paid to–'' He wheezes. ''To prove t-that.. Prince Jaehyun isn't what– what he pretends to be.'' The man coughs.

Raising a brow at what you hear, you wrap your hand around his throat and lean closer to his ear. ''Listen here, fucking microphallus. I know this fucker here looks like he's a worldwide known actor but in reality, he can't act for his fucking life. This man doesn't have a fucking future in acting. He can't fake anything, he's too goody shoes. This prince can't do a thing except entertaining the fucking crowd.''

He is genuine and is not pretending in front of the cameras. Is what Jaehyun can hear between your lines.

''So if you're thinking of exposing him and shit– too bad for you, Jeong lives his life by the books.''

Sighing, Jaehyun tugs at your shirt. ''Let's.. let's let him go. He said he was just paid to do it, didn't he?''

Glancing at the prince, you could see the stress on his irritatingly handsome face and annoyingly, you find yourself to hate the foreign emotion on it. Clicking your tongue, you let go of the man but grips his collar again before he can get away. ''Spread misinformations about my fianceé again, you'll be caressing metal bars the next day.''

Jaehyun holds your hand to take it away from the man and fixes his mask. ''Sir, you can send your resumé at the palace and you should be offered a job with monthly payment. Please don't ever damage someone for the sake of quick money. Money wears off in time, but the damage doesn't.''

With that, Jaehyun tugs you away from the scene. During the ride, silence fills the car and as you arrive at the apartment, that's when you realize Jaehyun's hand is still intertwined with you from the moment he holds it until you reach the flat. Why does Jaehyun look like it's the most normal thing? Why is your heart doing the fucking rabbity pumps?

Jaehyun heaves a sigh. ''Damn.. that's actually crazy– I can't even believe it happened. It went by so fast, my brain couldn't process the fact that someone believes I fake my personality and manners in front of the camera. Like–''

You plop to the couch.

''–what did I even do? Did I upset them? Did they say hi to me one time and I didn't say it back? Did they–''

''I punched the guy because I wanted to protect my friend.''

Jaehyun stops arranging the items you bought. ''What–?''

Hugging your knees, you keep your eyes on Jaehyun's. ''It was my friend's birthday and she wanted to celebrate it in this bar, it was called gangbang. Controversial, I know. We were having fun just like we planned to. But a group of guys at the other table starts joining in. We weren't paying attention to them– or at least, I wasn't. But one of my friends starts complaining about how one of the guys 'accidentally' brushes his hand on her ass too many times. Accidental, my ass. No one wants to come forward so I did, being the hero that I am. I talked to the guy calmly and asked what's wrong. Said guy told me my friend was lying but fuck– my friend was this close to crying about it. And then I got pissed at how his friends defends him when the CCTV clearly shows the incident so I fucking punched him and broke his nose.''

''Next thing I know, news outlets reports me getting involved in a brawl and ruining a fucking commoner's nose without including the reason why I did it.'' You scoff. ''Said friend I protected refused a statement and left the country without defending me.''

Jaehyun sits at the carpeted floor, facing you, looking with worry in his eyes. Something in your eyes flashes but disappears before Jaehyun could even determine what it is.

''And the pictures of me sleeping on the streets?''

Jaehyun hums, caressing your hands.

''They told everyone I was so fucking drunk I couldn't even bring myself home and showed videos of me chugging vodkas, whiskeys, beers straight from their bottle. But why didn't they show the part where all those fucking people around me gangs up on me and calls me a fucking pussy, a no fun, and a fucking killjoy. They didn't stop until I agreed on drinking all those fucking liqours.'' You sniffs, you didn't even know when you started tearing up.

''And that video where my bodyguard had to carry me because I wouldn't wake up? The palace was on emergency alert at that time– why? Because alcohol and sleeping pills were mixed inside me. When I tried to explain what happened, no one fucking believed someone slipped me a fucking bunch of sleeping pills– my heartbeat was fucking slowing down and I was over-sedated, Jaehyun. There's no point of telling them the truth when they already decided I was fucking lying. For fuck's sake, I was near to dying that fucking night– god!'' You bury your head in your knees, shoulders shaking as you sob, fist continuously knocking your head hard.

Jaehyun hugs your quivering figure, whispering words that he knows best that'll comfort and calm you. ''I understand you. I believe you. It's okay, love. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? I'm here, love. Everything's gonna be okay.''

Your cries haven't even died down when you look at him. Jaehyun thinks vulnerability was the flickering emotions behind your eyes these past minutes that he failed to catch on.

''Aside from the people who did those shits, Winter is the only one who knows about the truth. Because she's important to me.'' You hiccup, tears streaming down your face. ''Do you get why I'm telling you this, Jeong?''

There's a clue, but Jaehyun doesn't want to get ahead of you. ''..why?''

You chuckle while crying, more tears roll down your cheeks. ''God, you're so fucking stupid, aren't you? Winter is important to me so she knows the truth. I told you the truth because–'' You bow your head down and hold Jaehyun's hands. ''–you're more than just important to me.''

Jaehyun's breath hitches, and the world stops. ''Oh baby..'' He kisses the back of your hands and the top of your head before hugging you tightly.

He attempts to say the words that have been at the tip of his tongue since you decorated cakes with the kids but you cut him off.

''I will hurt you, Jeong, accidentally. I don't communicate. I don't open up. I find it hard to trust people easily despite sharing a close bond with them. I curse more than I say affectionate and loving words. I push away more than I pull. I'm violent. I am broken, I'm a mess.''

Jaehyun smiles, so handsomely it makes your heart ache. ''You don't communicate and open up? That's fine, I can read between your lines. You find it hard to trust people? That's alright, trusts are earned, not bought. You curse more than being lovey dovey? Well, I'm lovey dovey more than cursing. You push more than you pull? Isn't it great that I'm the exact opposite. You're violent? I could do the talking, you could do the punching. You're broken? I will patch you up again and again. You're a mess? So what, you're a beautiful kind of mess. And if you hurt me and wound my heart.. well then– Sorry, Heart.''

Right there and then, the faceless man that you saw at the bar and had a crush on morphs with Jaehyun's. You chuckle. ''Fate is playing with us, isn't it?''

Jaehyun cradles your face. ''And I'm glad it did. Because I met you.''

''You're such a sap.''

''Oh shush, you love it.''

''Maybe, maybe not.''

''Pfft, wait– does this mean we stop the pranks now?''

''Do what the hell you want, but you'll continuing to be pissed off first thing in the morning.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 3, fall in love with your soon-to-be-groom.

A shudder electrifies the fibers of your body as Jaehyun spreads the cold juices of peaches along the lines of your collarbone, his tongue dips in next, easing to freezing temperature with his warmth. He sucks where the sticky liquid lays previously, his cravings of sweetness beaming in glee as the flavor slowly seeps in him.

Your breath heavy, hands moving to caress your boyfriend's blond strands as his kisses travel to your breasts. The flesh of the fruit circles your nipples before Jaehyun dives in, sucking the hard nubs all the while fondling and playing with the other. Quiet moans of pleasure finally escape your lips after minutes of holding back, your head lolls back and your eyes close shut, sighing from the pleasure slowly building up. Slurping sounds bounces off the four walls of your shared bedroom, it's so obscene that anyone who could hear it could certainly feel how hungry Jaehyun is for the mixture of the peach's sweetness and the bits of saltiness coming from your sweat. It's disgusting to think but Jaehyun's cock gets only harder with each taste.

The surface of his hand palms your clothed core, thumbing where he's sure your clit settles and gives the area a slight pressure, he makes circles around the button that elicits a series of whimpers from you.

Fuck. How he wishes to see this image of you everytime. Your glossy eyes, puckered swollen slips, and whole face scrunched up as your body shivers in his hold, back arching as pleas of having him inside you draws out.

Break me, wreck me, ruin me. Those are everything your body screams.

Oh, he will ruin you, alright.

Jaehyun rips the remaining pieces of clothing off of you, gripping your legs apart, wide and open just for him. The way your pussy glistens under the dim lights of the room, the prince's lust fuels up until he could no longer bear the desire of devouring you.

His mouth, his tongue, his body, his mind -- screams for your taste, it craves the feeling of you thrashing against his embrace as you fall apart. And Jaehyun.. he's just a man. One who could only do much to control himself from drowning his face in the sea of tempting your slick.

''Ooh, Jaehyun, please..'''

From the alley your legs created, you are able to see Jaehyun's face and how his brow quirks in question to your plea. He's so fucking cruel, unlike the gentleman and polite prince everyone in your country had loved since the beginning. If they only know.

The pad of his tongue follows the traces of your juice, squeezing the last bits of the peach and lets it trickle down on your pussy. Dipping the tip of his tongue, he wiggles it until he's deep inside your warm tight walls, clenching on his muscle as he fucks you with it.

''Jaehyun–! Fuck!''

Your hips jerks upwards, practically offering your core to Jaehyun's face. That, Jaehyun accepts. Gripping each thigh, he pins you to the bed as he sucks, licks, and devours more than you offer.

Jaehyun's fingers join his tongue, squelches emitting from your soaked pussy as Jaehyun's digits continuously penetrate it. By the time Jaehyun is about to add the fourth finger, he sees your eyes rolling and notices the constant clenches of your walls– a telltale sign of your climax. And Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a bastard in bed.

He pulls away before walking away to fetch something, all the while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Jaehyun reaches the foot of your bed, he tugs his pants and boxers down, revealing a girthy and lengthy dick with an angry tip.

Jaehyun pumps his cock, staring at your sore pussy and fucked out face. Your breathlessness is music to his ears.

''Jaehyun, please..''

''Please?''

You open your legs wider, hands dipping between your legs to spread the cheeks of your pussy. ''It's all yours. Please, fuck me.''

''Fucking hell..'' Jaehyun nudges your legs open as you both moan in unison as his cock pushes past your entrance, veins rubbing against the tight velvet walls. Jaehyun plans to wait for you to adjust, but you shake your head. He smirks, and starts fucking.

''My girl is getting brave, huh? Let's how much you can fucking take.''

God, this is why you love Jaehyun in bed. This is the only time you hear him curse, be rough, and manhandle you in positions you didn't even know you're capable of doing.

You ask for it hard, and Jaehyun gives it every time. Wrapping his hand under your knee, he folds your body until it touches your chest as Jaehyun slides deeper, reaching deep inside you that a bump appears every now and then on your stomach.

''Fuck– do you see that, baby? Look at your stomach, shit, it's bulging. Am I too big for your tight pussy, baby?''

Jaehyun pins you against the headboard with his weight as drools escape the corners of your lips, dribbling down your neck. You grip the top of the headboard for support.

''Ah ah ah! S-so good.. so good!''

Jaehyun chuckles lowly. ''Does it, baby? Tell me what makes you feel good.''

''Y–your big–big cock! Fuck, i-it's so, haahh, so big!''

''That's right. My big fat cock is making my girl feel so good; she can't even construct a proper sentence. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel, baby? I feel like a fucking king, you know. Crown Princess, fucking feisty and always hissing at everyone, crumbling down at the feeling of my cock at her guts.''

Jaehyun plows into you deliciously, white spots showing themselves at different parts of your vision as pleasure takes over your body. ''You're so fucking tight, baby. You're choking me.''

Yelping, you hold onto Jaehyun as he withdraws from your pussy, carrying you as he transfers you to the glass window near the bed, pushing you against it before he starts pounding vigorously once again, teeth sinking to break your skin, lapping the droplets of blood. Lewd moans knock out of your throat. Seeing your reflection from the window, you're reminded of those pornos you've watched as a curious teen.

''Jaehyun– uh, uh, Jaehyun! You're gonna make me come!''

''Then come. Come for me, darling.''

You white out, shuddering in Jaehyun's hold as you clamp down on his cock, white ring appearing around his length. Jaehyun buries his head in the crook of your neck as he chases his own high, groaning as he finally reaches it, pulling out to finish himself on your back.

As a minute passes, you both regain the air your lungs have been desperately needing. Jaehyun makes you face him and kisses your lips full of gentleness, so in contrast to the rough pounding earlier.

And of course, Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a sap after sex.

''I love you so much, baby.''

You snort. ''I do too, idiot. Now clean me up.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 4, abort mission.

Come morning, the sunlight seeps through the curtains and shines on your bed beautifully. Jaehyun wakes up, his day already made at the sight of you sleeping peacefully in his arms. You look adorable, like you couldn't harm a fly. You wouldn't if said fly doesn't harm any of your loved ones.

God, Jaehyun is so fucking in love with you. You smile, his day is made. You breathe, suddenly the weather is perfect. You exist, Jaehyun finds every reason to live. You are the water that keeps Jaehyun tethered.

''What the fuck do you want, Jeong?''

The prince chuckles. 8am in the morning and you're already so grumpy. It confuses a few staff members how Jaehyun fell in love with you. If he won't get in trouble, he'll tell them you're a witch and make him drink some irreversible love potion or what.

''Nothing. You're pretty.''

''... Shut up. Just because you look fucking good in the morning.''

''Thank you, baby. I love you.''

''Ugh, you're too in love with me.''

Jaehyun giggles. ''I am. Will you marry me?''

You stop yawning and look at him as though he grew a second head (or third..?). ''The fuck did you say?''

''Will you marry me, baby?''

You scoff. ''Ask that again if you have a ring to out around me.'' The words are mumbled but Jaehyun manages to hear it.

''What?''

''I said your breath stinks, Jeong.''

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaehyun laughs deeply, caused by his morning voice. You find that hot but you won't te him because he'll use it against you everytime.

Jaehyun reaches for something behind him, inside the drawer, and faces you again. There you see a small red box on his palm, Jaehyun opens it and reveals the ring you've once mentioned to be your dream ring. Wordlessly, he slips the ring on your finger after taking off the fake one.

''But we're already engaged though.''

''Eh.. that was fake, baby. This one's real.''

You raise a brow. ''I haven't even said yes.''

''You'll say no to me?''

''Pfft, you're getting too cocky. I don't like that.''

''Hmm, sure, love.'' Jaehyun smiles warmly and takes you in his arms again. You bury your head in his chest.

''Jeong,''

Jaehyun hums.

''I hate you for making me feel this way.''

Jaehyun settles his hands on the sides of your face and caresses your cheeks with his thumbs. ''I love you too, witch.''

''Psst,''

''What now, baby?''