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Lover Boy | h.js

pairing ➳ commoner!joshua x aristocrat!fem!reader

genre ➳ regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.

word count ➳ 8.3k

warnings ➳ for the sake of plot reader's surname is Jones ( just ignore it), might be historically inaccurate, arguments, some family issues, pressure for marriage, reader is mean at one point, wanted to include smut but it lowkey felt wrong cuz this was the time when showing ankles was scandalous so 🤷‍♀️

synopsis ➳ pining for someone like him is as scandalous as it can be but the heart wants what it wants and your heart wants him.

He's here once again.

You peek through the curtains, watching him park his bicycle before reaching for the bouquet of flowers sitting in the basket. He has brought tulips today, in purple, your mother's favorite.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as you watch him from your hiding spot in your room, behind the curtains. You ingrain his beautiful features in the deepest parts of your brain, taking in each slope and curve with rapt attention.

As if he can feel your gaze burning on him, his head tilts up and he blinks, before recognition flashes in his eyes. He gives you a sweet, almost teasing smile as you've been caught spying on him and you immediately pull the curtains shut, hiding from his eyes.

Yeah, real smooth.

This has become a regular habit for you. Watching this particular man, this flower delivering boy every Friday and Tuesday morning just after breakfast, which you hurry to finish so that you don't miss him.

It's nothing but a harmless crush really, ongoing for about a year. It started on a rainy morning when you were out on the patio, watching the rain when he appeared, riding his bike, almost drenched from the downpour.

You quietly viewed him from your spot, watching as he handed a beautiful basket of roses to your mother before tipping his hat in goodbye and jogging back to his bike. Just as he was about to leave, somehow his eyes landed on you— a bored, quiet yet intriguing look on your face at the same time, and he held your gaze for a good few seconds before smiling at you as if you had known each other forever, before going on his merry way.

Something about that smile changed you from deep within. Whenever you'd close your eyes you would only see him, his crescent eyes, the crinkles around them and his sweet, comforting grin. It haunted you to the point he became your obsession.

You extracted a little information about him from your mother who gave you a strange look. But you couldn't be bothered. You had a frustratingly beautiful fixation.

And so it began. You spying on the flower delivering boy— or a man, given how solid his body looked under the puffy shirt. Days bled into weeks and then into months and your fixation evolved into something more. Something that tugged at your heartstrings, made you memorize every little detail about him which would come to plague your mind in the darkness of the night. Prompt thoughts that, if heard by your mother would put you up for an exorcism by the church.

Being the oldest daughter of the earl comes with both fors and againsts. Fors, being pretty clothes and jewels, carriage rides to fancy parties, respect and admiration from everyone, oh— and good food. That's about it. Againsts, however, there are plenty. 

Like being constantly nagged by your mother to find a rich suitor and get married. Like being cornered with plenty of such rich suitors whom you never find just slightly attractive. But the biggest one of them would be if you were seen with the pretty flower delivery man.

Your mother gave you a pep talk one day when you asked for his name, saying that you better not get familiar with the likes of him and instead focus on finding a man to marry and have children with.

It was annoying, really. So much so that you wished you could summon that stupid handsome man and kiss him just to vex your mother. Alas, it remained a wish.

Like most of the things in your life.

-

"Your sister is expecting," your mother announces as she carefully spreads pomegranate jam on her bread. You stop eating for a second, processing the words and then nod. "I'll be sure to visit her and congratulate her."

Even though it isn't evident on her face, you know your mother is over the moon. Your sister, the one 3 years younger than you, got married last winter and within four months she's expecting. You also know that this is what she wishes for you too and now the conversation will venture in that direction.

"Once again, ____. I'm telling you to find someone— "

"You know I'm not interested, mother," you cut her off, sipping your tea. You can feel her gaze burn into you as there's a heavy pause before she drops her bread on the plate and wipes her fingers with the napkin. "Which is why I've found someone for you. You know lady Downwell. Her nephew is an extremely talented young man with gorgeous looks. He is plenty rich too. I've asked him to have lunch with us today so that you may get to know each other."

The look of horror on your face matches your fathers as you drop the cup from your hand, sending it crashing down and he chokes a cough before blinking rapidly. Your younger brother, only 8 years old, sitting next to you, screams in glee while slapping on the jam spread on his toast, sending it flying, "Sister is getting married!"

Your mother doesn't blink an eye at the commotion.

"D-dear, isn't this a bit too sudden?" Your father starts gently. The woman spoken to glares at him. "Sudden? You know how long I have been telling her to find a suitor. She is well above the age to get married. If we keep going like this no one will marry her except an old, blind oaf!"

"S-still, my love. You could have told me. I would have looked into him."

"I have already done that. He is the perfect gentleman. You will see when he arrives."

The way your mother talks so nonchalantly, deciding your fate right in front of you without even bothering to ask makes your blood boil. You clench your fists as tightly as you can, trying your best to not lash out but the effort is in vain.

You stand up abruptly, sending the chair back with an ugly screech as you snap, "If you think for one moment that I'm going to marry someone you choose for me, then you are gravely mistaken, mother!"

She stares at you, horrified but before she can curse you out, you head for the door, snatching your cloak on the way. 

You've had enough of this nonsense.

-

Hours of wandering later, you find yourself in the market, among the hustling and bustling of people who keep sparing you second glances, undoubtedly because of your pristine, polished appearance. You try to ignore them, instead focusing on the beautiful array of fresh produce, their color so vibrant you feel hungry. You keep walking, passing by the stores of fruits, vegetables, potteries, bakeries and more until you stop in front of a fairly large flower shop. It is minimally designed yet stands out among all the other shops and before you know it, you're stepping inside, pushing the door open.

It is empty except for the huge rows of flowers of various colors and sizes and types, arranged in long rows on one side of the shop. On the other side is a counter with a chair, a reception you assume, in which sits no one.

Just as you are about to call out for someone, a man appears from the back door, wiping his hands with a handkerchief and as his eyes meet yours, your breath is stolen.

It's him.

The flower delivering man.

Joshua.

Your breath stutters as you blink, feet almost moving to bolt out the door, for no particular reason except your shyness. Though, he saves you the trouble.

"Hello, Lady Jones. What may be the occasion that has led you to visit me?"

"Y-you recognize me?" You whisper, a little breathless.

"Should I not?" He blinks innocently. "I deliver flowers at your place twice a week, my lady."

"Y-yes. I am aware." You murmur. He waits for you to say more but when he's met with silence he offers, "The reason for your visit? Does your mother not like the pansies I dropped this week?"

"No, I am... not here about that." You look around awkwardly, moving your hands in the air as if they will conjure up the words. "I- I was wandering nearby and... I came across this shop. It looked lovely so I came in. I had no idea it belonged to you."

He nods, seeming to ponder over your words. Then he hums, as if satisfied and asks, "Would you like some tea? I have passion fruit and camomile. I would recommend the latter."

"Um," you swallow, throat dry. "Yes, please."

Lord, your mother would lose her mind if she knew you were having tea with him. Which makes you only want to do it more.

He offers you to sit on one of the two chairs by the window of the shop while he disappears inside the door he approached from. Once alone, you take in your surroundings, cozy and warm, a beautiful scent of flowers wafting in the air, soothing your stressed soul. But the ambiance of the environment doesn't stop you from chewing on your lip anxiously because you realize that running from the breakfast table isn't going to help you out of your situation.

When you return home tonight you'll be scolded by your mother or maybe, if your luck is really bad then she has probably already sent men looking for you. The thought makes you crane your head and look out the window suspiciously.

"Something got you anxious, my lady?" Your head whips back to see Joshua approaching with a tray containing two cups of tea. Setting it down on the small coffee table, he takes a seat on the vacant chair to your opposite.

"N-no," you murmur, eyes averting his. He hums and you have a feeling he doesn't buy your words. Nervous to make eye contact, you instead watch the steam emitting from the cups and chew on your lip.

"I have to say, I am quite pleasantly surprised with your unexpected visit. I never imagined you would set foot in this shabby little place."

"It is not shabby at all," You frown. "It is wonderful, albeit a little short but it has such a comfortable atmosphere."

"I have heard you rarely step outside the grounds of your place. It is quite an honor to have you here."

"I— yes that is true." You whisper, wondering if he thinks you are a spoiled little princess. But you have your reasons for staying inside most of the time. An unmarried girl your age, a daughter of the earl at that, has people frowning upon you all the time. If they are not frowning, the ladies or their sons of the high society are asking for your hand in marriage. It gets annoying and makes your skin crawl, being spied on all the time.

"I tend to garner a lot of attention when I step outside," you murmur shyly, reaching for the tea and taking a sip. 

"Why so, my lady?" The man frowns, making you squirm in embarrassment. Is he really so dense?

"Perhaps because I am well of age yet not married?" You state.

A beautiful flush coats the man's cheeks as he blinks and lowers his head. "Right, of course. My apologies, my lady."

His reaction makes you laugh. "It is nothing to apologize about, Mr...?"

"Hong," he offers.

You smile. "Mr. Hong. In fact, apologizing makes it worse almost." He flinches, looking ashamed, "Right." You offer him a kind smile to make him feel better. He says nothing as you sip your tea and watch outside the window and you feel his occasional glances at you.

An ambient silence later, he asks, "If you do not mind me asking, why are you yet not married?"

You blink, slightly taken aback. No one asked you that question so far, never bothered to know the reason why you have always run from the bond of matrimony. He probably takes your silence as irritation because he once again flushes red and apologizes, "I'm so sorry, my lady. I keep saying the most inappropriate words."

"No, no, not at all, Mr. Hong." You set down your cup. " I was a little surprised, that's all. No one has asked me that, ever."

"Oh." He breathes, blinking at you in curiosity. You exhale and play with the strings of your corset, wondering if you should tell him the truth. Before you think too much, your mouth starts moving. "I suppose I want the love I read in books. I want to feel the longing, the passion, and the desire they talk about in the stories. I have seen many many men but none of them made me feel those things. They were too reserved or awkward, too haste or rude, or just simply wanting the privileges of marrying an earl's daughter. So, I suppose I am yet to be betrothed for I am wishing for that type of love."

He remains still, observing you with careful eyes, making you feel embarrassed. You whisper in embarrassment, "Silly, is it not?"

He shakes his head. "Not even the slightest, my lady. In fact, that is really thoughtful. I admire the way you think."

"Oh," heat flares across your face as your heart thuds loudly in your chest. "T-thank you." You breathe.

He gives you his sweet smile, "You are welcome, my lady. I hope you find the love you are looking for. I assure you, you will one day."

His words make the wave of reality crash on you as you remember that your mother has already prepared a man for you. You sigh wistfully as the bitter words leave your mouth, "I do not think that will be happening."

A frown mars his beautiful face as he shifts in his chair and peers closely at your face, "Why do you say so, my lady?"

"My mother has already arranged a marriage for me." You blurt out. It definitely is not the wisest decision to say this to an almost stranger but the burden of the thought weighs heavily on your chest and it feels slightly better to let it out. Joshua seems stunned as he has gone speechless and is now watching you quietly.

Moments tick by in silence until he finally whispers, "I am sorry to hear that."

You let out a dry, unceremonious laugh. "Me too." He gives you a sympathetic look before reaching for his tea, probably feeling a little uncomfortable. You don't feel any better as the sane part of your brain questions why you are dumping your stupid problems on the man you've been talking to for ten minutes and who is also the man you have secretly pined for.

Sensing that you should leave now and find some other place to hide till dusk, you shift in your chair and clear your throat. However, he cuts you off.

"Do you perhaps have someone you like?" The man asks. You blink, stunned at the question as you process your thoughts.

Do you like someone?

Yes. A hundred times yes.

It is the man sitting in front of you. The one you can never have.

"I...yes, I do." You reply, face heated. He nods thoughtfully and suggests, "You should let him know then."

"I am not sure he feels the same for me." You avoid his eyes as if he can see the truth in them.

"Then ask him," Joshua says like it is the most obvious thing in the world. "Let him know. Any man would be crazy to refuse you, my lady."

Really?

His words make heat bloom in your face as your heart beats faster. "That is high praise, Mr. Hong."

"It is nothing but the truth, my lady." His words are fiercely sincere. You watch him for a breath, letting his words sink in and then, do the last thing a sane person would ever do.

"Will you be my betrothed, Mr. Hong?" You whisper, so low you assume he won't catch it but he does. You can tell by the way his eyebrows rise and his eyes widen as the hand reaching for the teacup stops mid-air. There is a heavy pause in the air as you wait, feeling like the entire world has stopped.

And then, he does something you never quite expected. He starts laughing. A full on belly laugh as he writhes in his seat and howls in laughter, the sound echoing around as if to mock you.

He has a hard time catching his breath and when he does he looks seriously amused. "My lord! You have quite the sense of humor, Lady Jones! I almost believed you!"

Embarrassment and anger flare through you. How dare he think you are joking when you said the bravest thing one could imagine to say? Your hands clench into fists as you abruptly stand, sending the chair back roughly and glare at him.

Your reaction completely sobers him as the look in his eyes changes, replaced with panic. But you have reached past the point of caring. Utterly humiliated, you turn and march for the door, fingers working on fastening the clasp of your cloak. Just as you are about to pull the door open his hand grabs your elbow, halting you.

"My lady! Please, wait!"

Unshed tears gather in your eyes as you scowl at him, clenching your teeth to hold in the fury.

"You...you were not joking, were you?" His voice is meek and the look in his eyes tells you that he knows the answer.

"I—..." He struggles to find words and it's almost pathetic so you save him the trouble.

"It is all right, Mr. Hong. I did not expect you to feel the same for me and neither do I expect you to save me from my trouble. You asked me to let him know and I merely did. This should not be a problem. We will never face each other again so we can put this past us and pretend as if it has never happened." The words are hard to speak, especially since you are so close to him, closer than you could ever imagine being and you can see the specks of gold in his eyes, and breathe in the faint scent of flowers and mint coming from him.

And that is torture. 

So you free yourself from his grasp and bolt out of his shop, feet carrying you through the throng of people in the market.

You spend the next few hours just wandering around, crossing large meadows, grape vines, marigold gardens and so much more, all the while trying to forget his reaction.

You did not expect him to fall head over heels for you but the last thing you could imagine was to be laughed at. How humiliating. The more you think about it, the more shame you feel.

What if he has someone he likes? What if he is already betrothed to someone?

Oh Lord, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Your aimless wandering comes to an end with the fall of dusk as your aching feet carry you back to your home where your mother's wrath awaits. Oddly, you do not feel scared of that, your heart already burdened with another type of emotion.

As you predicted, your mother is livid the moment you step into your house, sending the servants scattering away at her booming voice as your father tries to calm her down and give you a sympathetic look. You care for none of those as you simply let her shout at you and then retreat into your room where you curl up into a ball on your bed and lie in silence.

You don't know if it's the heartbreak or exhaustion that lulls you to sleep.

-

The next morning when you come downstairs, you find the house empty other than your father. Apparently, your mother and younger brother have gone to the neighbor's place for breakfast so you sigh in relief.

As you finish your breakfast in silence and the maidservant clears away your plates, your father emerges from his study and stops when he spots you.

After a beat of silence, he takes a seat next to you and gives you a soft, meaningful look that chokes you with emotions. "How are you holding up, darling?" He quietly asks.

"Fine, I suppose. I have accepted my fate." You reply, staring at your lap. Your father sighs wistfully. "I know your mother can be too much to handle at times but she means well. She did that out of concern for you."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"That being said," your father continues. "She should not have arranged a meeting without consulting with you first. I apologize on her behalf, darling."

You swallow and blink back the tears and manage to simply nod in reply. When he calls your name you are forced to meet his eyes and you can see the seriousness in his expression.

"You don't have to accept anything you are not comfortable with, darling. I know you, my daughter and I do not want you to move into an arrangement unhappy when it ties you up for life. I want you to think and I want you to make the decision. Whether you marry Lady Campbell's niece or wait for someone, I want you to decide for yourself and stand by it. And I promise to help you with that however I can."

The wave of gratefulness you feel is immense as you croak, "Really, father?"

"Yes, my child." He reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You take a breath and whisper, "I do not want to marry her niece. I am not ready, not yet at least."

He nods calmly and pats your shoulder. "Then you will not. I will have a talk with your mother later but ultimately you should convince her, make her see your point. It may be hard but it is not impossible."

You nod solemnly, a flurry of hope and motivation flowing through you. A thought occurs to you and just as your father is about to get up and leave, you stop him.

"Father, what kind of man do you expect me to marry?"

He frowns. "I'm not quite following, darling."

"I mean, do you wish for me to marry someone who is from high society like us? Or would you be fine if I brought home an ordinary man?"

He ponders for a moment before replying, "I wish for you to marry someone you love or at least someone who understands you, respects you and protects you." Then his eyes narrow on you, "Do you have someone you like, my daughter?"

"No," you murmur, because that's not completely a lie. Yes, you like someone but that person doesn't like you so it is pointless to mention that. Your father watches you for a moment before walking away and leaving you by yourself. You watch the blue sky and the garden from the large windows, yet your thoughts remain stuck on one particular man, who smells like flowers and hopes and love.

-

In the afternoon when you come downstairs, intent on spending some time in the garden, tending to the flowers, you realize something is up.

Your mother's scowl of disdain greets you at the bottom of the stairs as she stands in front of your father's study, her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

You don't need to ask what is wrong as she speaks, "What did you do, young lady!"

You're baffled and it is safe to say you have no idea what you could have done. Calmly, you ask, "Could you explain, mother?"

She hisses, "What is that flower delivery boy doing here!"

"Huh?"

"Mr. Hong is here to see your father, wishing to talk about you, _____! What did you do yesterday? Did you meet with him?"

The ground beneath you disappears as you fall and fall, tumbling down into an abyss of anxiousness. Throat dry, eyes wide in alarm, you set sight for your father's study and take determined steps towards it. Your mother is horrified, calling for you to stop but you don't listen as you slam open the door to the study.

Two pairs of eyes greet you as your father sits behind his large oak desk, hand resting under his chin thoughtfully and Joshua stands in front, dressed formally, clutching his hat between his hands.

You open your mouth, to make some excuse or maybe accuse the poor man of lying but your father saves you from it.

"______, darling I'm in the middle of a discussion."

"But father— !"

"_____." Your name is uttered in a warning which makes you shut up and begrudgingly, you step back but not before sending your best threatening glare at Joshua who keeps looking at you impassively, no emotion whatsoever written on his face.

Just as you close the door, your mother is hot on your heels as she throws a dozen questions left and right. You try to block them out as you bite your nails nervously.

Your agitation carries you to the garden as you try to take a peek into your father's study but alas, the drapes are on, blocking the complete view.

What is Joshua doing here? Is he here to complain about you? Tell your father how you stupidly confessed to him? Or threaten to tell everyone about your actions?

Oh, sweet lord.

The thoughts overwhelm you and you wish you could fall to the ground and cry. You are too wired to do that but you know you will be crying later, when this handsome threat leaves and your mother grounds you forever.

You rub your temples in sheer worry as you pace back and forth in the garden littered with beautiful plants. This is usually your place of solace but right now you feel nothing remotely close to it.

This is it. You are doomed. You will still end up marrying some man you aren't interested in but now with an extra bit of shame and scandal.

The sound of footsteps wakes you out of your stupor as you whip your head to see Joshua leaving the house. You charge straight at him, hissing, "What on earth could you be doing here, Mr. Hong!"

He stares at you blankly for a moment before replying, "I think you and I both know the reason for my sudden presence, my lady."

His calmness bursts fury in your veins like he just didn't ruin your already ruined life.

"Are you insane?" You seethe. "Why would you tell my father about that? It was a mistake, alright? I know it was inappropriate but could you not have saved me from the shame?"

He remains silent, just blinking.

Oh, how you wish you could choke him.

"I— I just do not understand, Mr. Hong!" You rub your temples, searching for the words. "You always act like a gentleman but behind the facade, you are just scheming, are you not? What did you ask my father for, huh? Blackmail him for money? Threaten to tell everyone about my stupid confession unless you got paid?"

There is a flash of anger, mixed with hurt in his eyes that makes you shut your mouth. Maybe you went too far.

Shit. This only keeps getting worse.

There's a long moment of silence, where you two gaze at each other, you cowering under his hard stare before he sighs softly, "I believe it is best you ask your father. He will tell you everything."

He tips his hat in goodbye before briskly walking out the gates, leaving you frayed with nerves and slightly guilty.

-

Your father's movements are cool and calm as he pours himself some tea, definitely not looking like someone who had been threatened or blackmailed. Well, you just assumed that and the more time passes, the more you realize your observation was terribly wrong. Which further worries you.

What is going on here?

"Please put me out of my misery, father," you speak, eyes watching him helplessly as he sits down behind his desk and takes a sip. Humming in satisfaction, he sets the cup down and meets your eyes. There seems to be a hint of an amused curve in his lips but your disoriented brain could be just imagining that.

"As you saw, Mr. Hong was here. He had something shocking to say. Or ask, I suppose." This time, there is a full on amused smile on his face that makes your toes curl.

Holding your breath, you wait for your father to continue.

"He asked me for your hand in marriage."

What?

What?

The air in your lungs gets trapped inside as you forget to breathe. Had you not been sitting down, you would have tumbled on the ground by now.

You had to have heard that wrong. There is simply no way...

"C-could you please repeat that?" You are choking.

Your father smiles. "He wishes to marry you, my daughter. He came to ask me for permission. It appears you came across him yesterday and also professed your feelings toward him..."

There is a buzzing in your ears as your father's words fade away, replaced with an overwhelming wave of emotions. You are stunned, grateful, impressed, guilty and so much more that you don't know what to do with yourself. You wish you could cry but the utter shock in your system prevents you from doing that too.

When your father calls your name multiple times, you snap out of your haze and blink at him. "What did you say to him, father?"

A playful smile dances on his lips. "It's sufficient to say I was completely stunned at his bravery. He is a noble young man and I am thoroughly impressed and assured that he would take care of you in every way. So I told him I would speak with my daughter and that if she truly desires him, I will bestow my blessings."

Tears of relief and gratefulness leak from your eyes.

"F-father..."

His eyes soften, "You like that man, do you not? Is that why you asked me whether I would be okay if you did not marry someone in the high society?"

You nod shyly. "Yes, but I was just curious, father. I really did not imagine he would come here and ask for my hand in marriage. I just blurted out my feelings the other day and I..." You shake your head, absolutely bewildered until the realization dawn's upon you.

How rashly you behaved with him. How you accused him of things he never did.

You always act like a gentleman but behind the facade, you are just scheming, are you not?

Threaten to tell everyone about my stupid confession unless you got paid, no?

You wince as you remember your words. Immediately you stand up. "I need to go somewhere. Can I take your horse?"

He lifts a surprised eyebrow before nodding. "Send your mother inside on your way out."

You almost bolt out of the room. Your mother stands right outside but you push past her and reach for your cloak hanging by the door as she throws a hundred questions in your direction.

"Father is waiting for you!" You tell as you fly out the front door, heading for the stables where you find your father's trustee horse Bella and get on it.

Soon you are flying down the streets, Bella's legs gracefully carrying you to your destination, Joshua's flower shop. You can only hope he's there as you have no idea where he actually lives. Well, if he isn't there then you are just going to wait for him. You were a complete spoiled brat and you said some very mean things to him that you need to apologize for no matter what.

The market soon comes into view and a minute later you are in front of his shop where you get down and fasten Bella next to a pole. You almost break down the doors as you push them wide open, grateful that they open.

But inside, there is no one.

"Mr. Hong?" Your voice is filled with urgency.

No reply.

A chill settles into your bones.

He shouldn't be far away if he left his shop unlocked, right?

Tentatively you step into the shop, eerie stillness in the air...or maybe it's the imagination of your guilt. You pass by the reception booth and the displays of flowers and come to stand in front of the small door at the back of the shop. Seeing it slightly ajar, you breathe in the courage and give it a gentle push.

The door opens to lead you to a garden, so full of flowers it feels unreal. It is a burst of colors, a piece of paradise, and something so beautiful you could never imagine.

You step down a couple of stairs and put your foot on the grass, eyes taking in the huge land of flowers. With the sun slowly setting down on the horizon this feels magical. Walking a little further into the garden, you spot the man you are looking for, as he is crouched near the ground, washing his hands next to a pail of water.

Before you can stop yourself, you are calling out for him.

His head whips around at your voice as shock colors his face. You take quick steps towards him as he stands up and wipes his hands with a handkerchief, a sudden look of disdain settling on his face. You, however, don't let that dissuade you.

"The door was open so I let myself in. I hope you do not mind." You murmur, not being able to hold his gaze and instead looking down at the ground. The reply you get is a sound, somewhere between a hum and a grunt, increasing your guilt tenfold.

You have never seen him like this. His normal joyous self is replaced by this cold mask and icy glare. It makes you jittery with nerves as you try to form a complete coherent sentence in your head.

"I.... I—"

"What brings you here, Lady Jones?" There is an underlying harshness in his tone that breaks your heart.

"My father has accepted your proposal!" You blurt out instead of apologizing. His eyes widen visibly in shock and his mouth parts just a little bit before going back to the previous unyielding gaze.

"I see." Is all he says, frowning. He turns his back on you in dismissal and picks up a watering can to walk over to a bunch of marigolds. As he waters them you trail behind like a lost puppy, hands clenching and unclenching at his utter dismissal.

"Mr. Hong, listen—"

"I am glad you took the liberty to come all the way here and let me know that but I think you should head back. The sun will set soon." He states not even glancing at you.

You stop in your tracks, glaring at him as tears burn in your eyes. Before you know it, you yell. "Will you let me speak for a second? I am trying to apologize here, mister!"

He turns around in a flash and scowls at you as he snarks. "Well, you sure are not doing a good job at it!"

You gasp, a sudden pinch of pain in your heart as you take a step back. "You won't even listen to me!"

He spares you a glance for a moment before going back to his work and that sets the limit. You screech, tears of hurt and guilt and exhaustion pouring down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, okay! I ran over here as soon as father told me everything! I know very well what I said was out of line and I'm sincerely sorry for that! I was scared, okay? The things I mentioned took place before and I did not want my father to be blackmailed or humiliated, especially for my actions! But I was wrong! I was too quick to judge you and I should have known better and I'm sorry!"

You stop to catch your breath and wipe away the tears while he stands immobile with his back facing you. Getting the clear message, you spit out the bitter words. "I can clearly see that you have now changed your mind and I am not blaming you. I shall go and let my father know that you are not interested in me anymore. Goodbye!"

You turn on your heel, marching out of the garden and into his shop where you take in a deep breath, the familiar scent of comfort filling your nostrils for the very last time and head for the front door. Just as you grab the handle, a hand catches your wrist and pulls you back in a flash, making you lose your footing and bump straight into a strong chest.

The scent and warmth of Joshua envelopes you completely as he wraps his arms around you, one on your waist and the other cradling your head, holding you against him tightly. You tense up and try to free yourself but he only grips you tighter, burying your face into his hard chest and before you can think, a stream of new tears flows out of your eyes. You clutch his shirt in a tight fist as you sob into his chest, murmuring a continuous string of apologies. He shushes you, rubbing a reassuring palm on your back as you let out all the pent up frustrations.

When you have finally ridden out the wave of overwhelming emotions you pull back, embarrassment creeping up your neck. Joshua, however, gazes at you fondly as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"You shall do no such thing, you hear me, my lady? I am marrying you and now that your father has agreed, there is no going back."

You chew on your lips. "But...I do not wish for you to feel trapped in this marriage. I do not want you to marry me just because—"

He holds up a finger against your lips, shushing you immediately. The touch of his skin against yours shoots tingles all through your spine and you suddenly wonder how his lips would feel against yours.

"I want to marry you, lady Jones. I am no longer shy to admit that thoughts of you have plagued my mind for a while now. But I simply pushed them away because I never imagined you feeling the same. However, we are here now and I want you to have no doubts about my feelings for you, for they are the most genuine."

Your face burns with embarrassment as your heart flutters in your chest at his heartfelt confession. You realize he still has his arm around your waist as he gazes at you softly and once again, you voice out the crazy thought that pops into your mind.

"Will you kiss me, Mr. Hong?" Your voice is breathless as you meet his eyes. They go wider than saucers upon hearing your words as he quickly retracts his hands from your body, leaving behind an aching longing.

"My lady!" He chides and you can see a hint of red blooming in his cheeks. "I shall not defile you before we are—"

You hover on your toes and press your lips against his, silencing him. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you pull back, your shyness and nervousness getting the best of you.

The look of utter horror on the man's face makes you cringe as you look down in shame. "I— I apologize, Mr—"

This time you are silenced as he tilts your head up by your chin and kisses you, all warm and soft. His lips mold against yours perfectly as he gently explores your mouth, leaving you breathless yet desperate to continue.

When he pulls back, your lips are puffed and your heart beats so loud you're afraid he can hear it. There is a different kind of look in his eyes, heated and full of desire as he intently stares at your lips for some agonizingly long moments. When you are about to lean in for more he takes a step back, a serious look on his face.

"I meant it when I said I shall not defile you before our marriage. My control is hanging by a thread right now so please do not tempt me, my lady."

"_____." You whisper.

"What?"

"Please call me by my name. I do not like it when you refer to me as my lady."

He frowns but you can see he finds the idea tempting. "I do not think that it will be appropriate."

"Just when it is the two of us." You add, hoping to convince him. He sighs, defeated and calls your name softly, stealing your breath all over again. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead as he pulls you into an embrace, making you melt against his chest and breathe him in.

A while later, you remember that the sun has set and you are expected home soon as you pull back with a wistful sigh. "I need to get going. My parents are going to be worried."

Joshua nods as he reaches for a coat folded over a chair. "I shall accompany you." He states, already moving for the door.

"It is not necessary—"

"Nonsense. It is dark outside and I shall ensure the safety of my future wife." The teasing smile on his face makes you grin like a lovestruck fool and you happily let him accompany you home.

_

A week later, Joshua drops by your house, having tea with your father before taking you out for an afternoon stroll. You dress up for the occasion, putting on a flattering gown and doing your hair and makeup as he takes you to a nearby vineyard.

"How have you been?" He asks politely. A week of not seeing him has made you somewhat shy and awkward as you murmur your reply shyly.

"Having second thoughts, my lady?" He raises a brow, teasing. A pout forms on your lips. "I told you not to call me that. And no, I am not."

"Good." He smiles. The afternoon sun falling on his face gives him his ethereal glow and shamelessly, you wish for the wedding to come quicker as your desire for him continues to grow.

"Then what seems to be the issue?"

"Just things..." You trail off, unsurely. "My mother, mainly. She is having a tough time accepting this." You sigh, motioning between the two of you.

A frown mars his face, making you feel guilty. While it is true that she is still pestering you to change your mind, you have started to learn how to tune it out. You let her know that you were not going to change your decision no matter what she said and the fact that your father and your siblings were on board with you definitely gave you courage.

With your mother holding a grudge, you took it upon yourself to start preparing for the wedding. Your sister also came to help and along with the aid of the maidservants, it is coming along pretty nicely. The linen draper came by today as you finalized your dress and now that that is out of the way, you feel a lot better.

Joshua has remained silent beside you as you two continue to walk and you start fiddling, wondering if you've hurt his feelings. "You do not have to be concerned about my mother. She is just not happy with our... differences but I am sure she will come around." You reassure him.

"Does it bother you?" Joshua asks suddenly, stopping and meeting your eyes. "That I am not from high society?" 

"Why would you think so?" You ask, almost yelling. "I do not care where you come from or what your status is, Joshua. It pains that you would think so."

He sighs. "I am sorry, love." The pet name rapidly blooms heat on your face and it amplifies as he reaches to grab your hands. His larger fingers rub your knuckles soothingly as he offers you a soft smile. "I just... sometimes worry because I will not be able to give you the lifestyle you are used to. But you do not have to worry too much. My father may not be high born but he was a great businessman and I have inherited all his properties. He also left me a land—"

You shut him up with a kiss. He's taken aback and just as he is about to deepen it, you pull back with a teasing smile. "I think the person worrying too much here is you, mister."

He chuckles softly, dropping a quick kiss on your nose and intertwining his hands with yours as you resume your walk. "I shall try my utmost to keep you happy, love." He promises.

You smile. "I know you will. I shall do the same."

-

That night as you prepare for bed, your mother peeks into your room and surprising you, invites herself in. You watch her, a little confused as she takes a seat on your bed because she has been avoiding you as best as she could until now.

She fiddles with her nightgown for a while before heaving a deep sigh, making you wonder what bomb she is going to drop on you now.

Her eyes meet yours. "You are truly going to marry that man, no?"

"Yes, mother." You try not to sound too exasperated. She sighs, murmuring something about how you are stubborn like your father and then straightens up.

"You have to understand I am only concerned about you. I love you, ______. You are my daughter and I only want the best for you."

Your heart softens. You exhale loudly. "I know that mother but I need you to understand that Mr. Hong is the best for me. He may not be what you had in mind for me but I find him perfect. He makes me happy, mother."

She stares at you impassively for a while, making you anxious. Did you push her too far?

"I talk from experience, darling. My time with your father had always not been so breezy. The famine that took place in your birth year was not easy. Even as an earl, your father had to struggle to provide for us."

You know this story. That year the famine was particularly harsh, affecting the entire country and your parents had a hard time getting by with your older brother and you, despite being affluent.

"I know how hard times can get and I was married to an earl. I keep imagining the same may happen to you and he would not be able to take care of you and your children."

You sigh, letting a thick silence stretch between the two of you. While she has a point, you would rather struggle with someone you love than live comfortably with a man you despise. It would simply kill you.

"Do you regret it, mother?"

"What?"

"I know you had better proposals than father. During the hard times, did you ever regret choosing him? Having us?"

Your mother indeed had fancier marriage proposals as your grandfather was a duke. Your mother even had a direct proposal from the prince but she refused, choosing your father instead.

She sits in silence for a while before shaking her head. "I do not."

You smile. "Then there you have it. Life is bound to get harsh sometimes, mother. But we can overcome it with the people we love, can we not? You overcame the hard times and now look at us."

Even in the dimly lit room, you can see your mother's eyes shine with unshed tears. She watches you for a moment before a small smile appears on her lips as her arm reaches out to cup your cheek. "When did you grow up so well, darling?"

You smile, your eyes getting teary too as you shuffle closer and wrap your arms around her, tucking your head under her chin. She holds you in her arms like you are a little kid all over again, stroking your hair and gently swaying back and forth.

"I will ask him to come over for lunch, tomorrow. There is still some time left for the wedding so I suppose I should start to get to know him."

She doesn't need to mention who she means by him because you already know and a large smile sets on your face, making your cheeks hurt.

-

A fortnight later, you and Joshua were pronounced man and wife in front of all your loved ones. It felt surreal as you kept wondering how this flower boy became your lover boy so quickly and unexpectedly. Whatever the magic, you were glad and grateful.

Your husband later surprised you with a beautiful cottage by a magnificent lake just by the city that he had purchased for the two of you as a wedding gift. And in there, he stuck to his promise and did a great job of defiling you, again and again and again...

a/n: thank you for reading lover boy! if you enjoyed it please like, reblog and comment your thoughts! for more of my works, check out my pinned post.

wishing you a lovely day.

taglist: @shiningstar-byulxx @just-here-to-read-01 @sojohns @marksflute @paradigmax @rubyscoups @winniet @kmoon @knucklesdeepmingi @svtluvr17 (sorry to those who couldn't be tagged)

OH MY GOD THE LAST PARAGRAPH I’M SOBBING

hello, could you do clingy Seungkwan in the morning right after he got out of bed ^^

first request ehe thank u bae 😘😘

SUNRISE —⊹ seungkwan drabble

you were up early enough to see the sunrise. but seungkwan wasn’t.

as you pushed down to button to pour hot coffee into your siena mug, you heard slippers drag in the hallway, making you raise your head in that direction.

seungkwan was approaching you like a zombie on sleeping pills, his hands rubbing his early eyes under his glasses. you smile at his sleepy state and at how the morning golden hour hits him perfectly. he flinched from the light slightly and when he sees your shorter frame he smiles.

“good morning, seungkwan.”

“why did you leave me?” he complains and you smile down at yourself, picking up your now full coffee cup and moving to the stove top, ready to make breakfast.

“i couldn’t fall back asleep when i woke up the first time.” you explained, and was careful not to spill your drink when his weight suddenly laid itself on your own. you felt his soft skin bury itself in your neck, being careful to be gentle but passionate. his hug around your waist was tight as if you’d melt onto the pan you were heating up.

“i thought you went to work early without a morning kiss.” he whispers, “and that’s like breaking the law.” you laugh now, putting down the pan and turning into his body heat, wrapping your arms up and around his neck.

you give him a lovely kiss and giggle at his suddenly happy face. he brings one hand up to swipe some hair out of your face before admitting, “i’m not gonna let you go now.”

his grip tightens a bit more and you give him another peck on the lips.

“i know. you do it every morning.”

because every morning you get up early to watch the sunrise, and every morning you get up early to watch your sun rise.

## taglist: @hyeunfae @raevyng

feeding my Jihoon brainrot for real.

GOLDEN —⊹ woozi drabble

— request

“you look breathtaking.”

you wiggled in your golden silk dress, skimming your fingers on the fabric and picking at places that didn’t sit exactly how you wanted it to. he didn’t even try to pry your hands away because he knew you were only trying to look good for him.

his arms gather around you in a tight back hug and he suddenly starts attacking you with pillowy kisses on your cheeks and neck. woozi’s dressed in a black suit and a golden tie, perfectly complimenting each other. you giggle before turning into his body,

“woozi, you’ll mess up my makeup.”

he continues to attack your face, “you don’t need it anyways.”

you laugh and glance in the mirror again, smiling at your perfect outfits and perfect boyfriend. he grasps at your waist and turns your head with one hand, a cheesy smile plastered on his face.

“stop looking in the mirror, it doesn’t do you justice. you look golden. literally.”

a warmth blooms in your heart, mimicking the feeling of heart burn before his hands trail to your hands, kissing them as softly as he did your face moments ago.

“are you ready to go, my beautiful girl?”

you smile and plant a kiss on his own lips, nodding as he leads you out of the bedroom and out the house. out to the car and to the party. he can barely pay attention to the engaged couple and his tipsy friends when you’re there, glowing as golden as you could get.

## taglist — @hyeunfae @raevyng

masterlist | taglists

because I love this fic so much

Reliable Liars Loki x fem!reader (fluff)

Summary: Loki being a simp for Y/N.

[ tw: mentions of blood, fight, suggestive language, cheesy pickup lines from the god of mischief ]

a/n: Tony is like a father figure here btw.

Stark Enterprises found itself under attack yet again. 

It was right in the middle of a meeting, so atleast most of the avengers were present.

“You can’t just throw your knives, you’ll run out of weapons!” Nat yelled, blocking one of the intruders by kicking its chest. 

“IT’S A TUESDAY, I WASN’T PREPARED FOR GIANT ANT-ALIENS!” you shrieked, throwing the last of your daggers at the creature who was closing in on you. It planted itself in one of its eyes, automatically disintegrating its body to dust.

More of them were now circling, obviously sensing your vulnerability. 

But when one opened its mouth, only a scream came out. The insects before you faded away into green dust, and there stood Loki with a smug smile.

“Always have to have a dramatic entrance, don’t you?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Keep reading

awake at an ungodly hour and reading Seungkwan fics

Mission Possible

genres: elementary teachers au, fluff pairing: reader x seungkwan words: 1.2k warnings: none! notes: a short fic for seungkwan day!! I'm slightly late because I am me, but an anon requested early education kwannie and I thought that was so cute!! hopefully this lives up to their idea 😊

One of Mr Boo's students sees his brand new engagement ring.

Mr Boo's fourth grade class has been on a group mission ever since their orchestra field trip.

Their mission — and they did choose to accept it: get Mr Boo (the funniest and most glaringly obviously single teacher at Greenfield elementary school) together with you (the new music teacher Mr Boo's students always catch him smiling at while you're not looking).

Future president ten-year-old Kim Sujeong is at the head of the operation. She was behind most of the class's best efforts, including but not limited to running allllllll the way across the school from the music room to his classroom and telling him you had fallen and died and that he needed to come help! or else you might, er, die harder. Despite the flimsiness of Sujeong's story, Mr Boo had gone running full-speed down the halls to you (whom he found perfectly fine and not dead, just wide-eyed at his sudden — and out of breath — appearance in the music room with Sujeong beaming behind him when you were certain she was supposed to be in the bathroom), so she counted that as a success.

Now, future marine biologist Kim Sujeong — she’s still between that, president, or interior designer — is in a fit, arms crossed as she watches the kids of Greenfield elementary run around the playground. She huffs. Can’t the rest of the fourth graders take this seriously? Will they let the mission go? Just like that?

Recess is great, sure, but this is no time for play!

This morning, though Sujeong didn’t notice until a couple minutes before the first recess bell rang, Mr Boo showed up with a shiny silver ring on his finger. His left ring finger.

Sujeong huffs again.

“Are you okay there, Sujeong?”

On supervision duty today, you sit down on the park bench next to Sujeong, slightly concerned. She looks up at you, uncrosses her arms, and whimpers out your name. “Are you devastrated?” she asks you on the verge of tears.

“Devastated?” You point at yourself. “Me?”

Tears brim at the corners of Sujeong’s eyes, and her bottom lip quivers. “Mr Boo!” she cries out. “He’s getting married!”

You blink.

For a few seconds, you say nothing, just staring at Sujeong, and she thinks — oh, heartbreak! — you must have already given up on Mr Boo, must’ve heard about it already and cried before recess started, and, oh! What a cruel man Mr Boo is, to do this to you!

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, smiling and gently taking Sujeong’s hands in yours. What a strong person you are, she thinks, to smile through such pain… You smooth down her hair, which, although her mum had done it in pretty braids today, has gone a bit wild in the wind. “Mr Boo getting married doesn’t make me sad.”

Sujeong sniffles. “Why not?”

You chuckle slightly, but Sujeong doesn’t know what’s so funny. “I’m happy for him. It’s not every day you find someone willing to marry you. I bet he loves that person very much.”

“But…” Sujeong pouts, breath a little shaky. “I thought… he loved…”

Your left hand comes down from her hair to hold her hands again. “Hm?”

Dropping her head, Sujeong is about to mumble “you”, but instead, she gasps at the sight of your ring finger.

Which sports a silver ring she’s never seen on you before.

“Not you too!” she squeaks, utterly betrayed.

“Ah— Sujeong, it’s not—”

“They’re not better than Mr Boo, are they? I know he’s a meanie because he’s getting married but— but, you’re doing it too! You’re getting married and he’s going to be sad because he loves you! He does! I saw! He looks at you like the boys in the movies! And he talks about you all the time — even when it’s math time! You’re the music teacher! There’s no music in math!” Sujeong is starting to lose her breath, using it all up, but she can’t stop. “So you can’t marry someone else because Mr Boo loves you! He— he shouldn’t marry someone else either, but that’s why we have to stop him! I can take you to him right now. We can show him how sad you are, because you are devastrated—”

“Devastated, sweetheart,” you say, then shake your head because that’s really not important right now. “I mean, I’m not devastated. I’m very happy.” Smiling, you hold up your hand and show her your engagement ring. “I’m going to marry someone I love, and so is Mr Boo. It’s a good thing. We’re both happy.”

Sujeong looks up at you through wet eyelashes, taking in deep breaths. She pouts, but doesn’t say anything.

You sigh, still smiling. “So be happy for us, okay?” You lift her chin with one finger, your other hand giving her smaller one a soft squeeze. “Don’t worry about our boring grown-up problems, and go play with your friends while it’s still recess. You know it’s social studies after, right?”

Sujeong lets out a little gasp. That’s right — there must be only a couple minutes left of recess, and she needs to gather up her classmates for an emergency meeting.

New mission: find out how to break an engagement.

Two of them.

Future president marine biologist interior designer divorce lawyer Kim Sujeong has her work cut out for her.

⭒

Once all the students have been picked up and all his prep work for tomorrow gets finished, Seungkwan packs his things and heads to the music classroom. The door is open, but he raps his knuckles against it and leans against the door frame when you look up from your desk and smile at him.

“Ready to go?” He smiles back.

“Just a second, Mr Boo.”

You throw your things in the backseat of the car before getting in to the passenger seat next to Seungkwan.

“Sujeong seemed pretty put out with me today,” he says as he starts the engine, a slight smile teasing at his lips. He lifts his left hand and wiggles his fingers at you, the silver ring glinting in the sunlight. “Didn’t like my choice of accessory, maybe?”

You snort. “Yeah, that tie is pretty ugly.”

Affronted, Seungkwan gasps and puts a hand over his heart — and pink, star-patterned tie. “You love this ugly tie.”

“I do,” you admit with a sigh. “I really do.”

He likes it when you smile at him like that. You’re tired from the day, but you still laugh with him. It’s a beautiful feeling.

“Sometimes I feel like we should just tell everyone,” you say, staring at the ring on Seungkwan’s finger.

He chuckles. “You’re the one who said you wanted to hide it.”

“Yeah, from the faculty while I’m still new — I could already tell they wouldn’t want a couple working at the same school just from the interview.” (Seungkwan thinks that the rings are a dead giveaway, but you seemed so excited to wear them this morning that he hadn't said anything, and he's not going to now.) “I didn’t think the kids would get so invested, though" you continue. "Sujeong’s mad at you for ruining her OTP, by the way.”

“Just me? You’ve got a ring too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but Sujeong likes me more.” You stick out your tongue at him.

Seungkwan scoffs in disbelief. He reaches over the gear shift and grabs your hand, linking your fingers together. “Whatever. Sujeong will have it all figured out by next year.”

You raise an eyebrow, but give his hand a squeeze anyway. “She will?”

“Well, it’ll be pretty obvious when you have my last name.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “As if. You’re taking my last name.”

Seungkwan doesn’t argue, he just pulls your hand up in his and presses his lips to your knuckles.

“I don't mind the sound of that.”

found a screenshot of a part from this series and went on a whole hunt for it. love this so much you have no idea 🥹

𝐖𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

➵ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You fell in love with Bucky Barnes in 1940. He was your everything, until he was taken from you. You’ll meet him again, just not in the way either of you expected…

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 40s!Bucky Barnes, Husband!Bucky Barnes, WinterSoldier!Bucky Barnes, BestFriend!Steve Rogers

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | ANGST, DEATH, hydra, trauma, ptsd, pregnancy and birth, grief, depression, child loss

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

Chapter I- Let Me Call You Sweetheart

Chapter II- You Make Me Feel So Young

Chapter III- I Don’t Want To Walk Without You

Chapter IV- I Guess I’ll Have To Change My Plans

Chapter V- It’s Been A Long, Long Time

Chapter VI- Nevertheless (I’m In Love With You)

Chapter VII- I Can Dream, Can’t I?

Chapter VIII- I’ll Never Smile Again

Chapter IX- I’ve Heard That Song Before

Chapter X- Someone To Watch Over Me

I love this so much what 😭 I need a part two THIS INSTANT. I want to see meanie & yn happy together 😰

and to add that this is a descendants au !!! it was literally my entire childhood and it makes it all the better 🤧

Good to be Bad - jww & kmg

title: good to be bad pairing:  jeon wonwoo x gn!reader, kim mingyu x gn! reader genre: fluff, minor angst, descendants au (child of hades reader) warnings: mentions of violence, stealing, bullying, and canonical bad parenting w.c.: 10.2k summary: moving to auradon brings many new things, good and bad a/n: this will follow almost none of the canon descendants universe lol. if i make someone mean its for the plot i promise i dont think they’re actually like this

You’re sitting on top of a warehouse roof when you hear footsteps approaching.

“Are you going to apply for the proclamation?” Wonwoo always seems to know just where to find you. He takes a seat next to you on the ledge and you scoot over a bit so your thighs are touching.

“It’s just charity to make them look good. They don’t actually care about us.”

Earlier in the morning, the royal palace released a proclamation, stating the royal family are going to sponsor six villain kids and bring them over to Auradon to help ensure a “better future”. Every child on the Isle of the Lost will send in an application and the six best candidates will be chosen to move to Auradon. 

You don’t believe it though. It has to be a big set up. There’s no way the people in Auradon actually want to help, or they would have done something a long time ago. 

“It sure is a unique opportunity. To go and live on the mainland, get to attend Auradon Prep.” Wonwoo is trying so hard to come off as nonchalant, but you catch the wistful air of his tone.

“You’re going to apply,” you say. It’s not a question. “They’ll pick you for sure. You’re not like us Wonwoo, you don’t belong here.”

“None of us belong here,” Wonwoo mutters.

“Maybe…” You’re quiet for a moment before you continue. “But you’re the one who deserves to get out.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond. You two sit in silence, staring out at the Isle. It really is an ugly sight to behold. Even in the worst of places, you can find beauty, but not on the Isle. It’s ugly on the inside and out. 

Eventually you get up and Wonwoo follows, still not saying anything. You two start to walk to your place, the unspoken agreement that Wonwoo will spend the night. The walk is far, considering you live in an underground lair on the edge of the Isle. Your father likes to be far away from people and to live underground, seeing as he is the God of the Underworld.

Your dad…well he’s not winning any Best Dad of the Year awards anytime soon, but he’s not near as bad as he could be. Sure he’s a bit negligent, treating you more as a lackey than his child, and he likes to remind you how much of a mistake you are and how you will never live up to him, but why complain when other kids have it worse.

Like Wonwoo, who’s mother is the literal most evil woman alive. She’s always been disappointed in him, seeing as he takes no interest in any villainy. That’s why Wonwoo sleeps at your place.

When you get inside the lair you and Wonwoo quietly navigate the dark rooms until you get to your bedroom. You two flop down onto your bed, squished together on the twin size mattress. You and Wonwoo have been sharing the same mattress since fourth grade, so the proximity of your bodies is normal at this point.

You’re not tired, but you know if you’re too loud your father’s going to yell at you in the morning, so you lay quietly staring up at the ceiling. You can tell Wonwoo is still awake too because you haven’t heard him taking his glasses off yet, and you know he hates sleeping with them on.

“Y/N-ah?” Wonwoo’s already soft voice is even softer as he whispers out to you.

“Woo?”

“Come to Auradon with me.”

Your breathing freezes for a moment before you gain your composure again. “I can’t.”

You and Wonwoo aren’t the same. By the time you and Wonwoo got close, you were already corrupted into the Isle’s ways. Besides Wonwoo, you have one of the most influential, evil parents on the Isle and whereas Wonwoo tries to ignore that part of him, you lean into it.

“You deserve to live a good life,” Wonwoo says. “You can’t do that here.”

“There isn’t a place for me in a world like Auradon. All they’re gonna do over there is try and ‘fix’ us so they can rub in our parents’ faces,” you say. “And all the while they try to fix us, they’ll just villainize us.”

“So we’ll just prove them wrong. I can’t live my most fulfilling life if you're not there too. So please, just think about it.” You’ve never heard Wonwoo ask for anything in his life, let alone beg.

“I…I’ll consider it.”

And consider it you did. Which is why you’re now standing at the bridge with Wonwoo, waiting to be picked up to go to Auradon. If you’re being honest you still don’t really want to go. The choice between going to Auradon with all of the prissy princesses and stuck up princes, or staying at home with your homebody dad who tries to get rid of you at every opportunity possible, was definitely a tough one. To you, it sounds like a lose-lose situation, but while you were going over the pros and cons you were hit with a tie breaker.

As much as you don’t think Auradon is for you, there’s only one reason why you even considered it to begin with. As hellish as it sounds to go to Auradon Prep, there’s one pro that outweighs everything else.

You were sure of your decision when you told Wonwoo and his whole face lit up. It’s rare to see that cute little smile spread across Wonwoo’s lips but whenever you do see it, you’re reminded why you’d do anything in the world for him.

“Well isn’t this a sight to see?” You hear someone approach the bridge before you see them, but you don’t have to turn around to identify who it is.

Jeonghan, son of Mother Gothel, is probably the only other person you trust who is not Wonwoo, and with Jeonghan you only trust him as far as you can throw him. He’s the one friend you have who you can get into mischief with. He’s manipulative and sneaky and quick witted and can talk himself out of nearly any situation he gets put in. If you and Jeonghan weren’t friends, you’d be a bit concerned with how similar you two are.

“What are you doing here Han?”

“I’m here to catch my ride to Auradon.” Jeonghan grins at you. He strolls up to you, slinging an arm around you when he gets close. “So nice of you to come see me off.”

“Yeah right, try again.”

“You're going to Auradon? You practically run this place, why would you give that all up just to be surrounded by a bunch of assholes?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” you scoff.

“I’m going so I can wreak havoc and cause chaos. Why would I stay here when I can mooch all of the premium stuff off of the rich bitches while torturing them with my presence?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flit over to where Wonwoo is standing. “Oh I get it, your reason has more to do with lover boy and less to do with villainy.”

Jeonghan and Wonwoo are on…neutral terms, but then again, most people are with Wonwoo. People are more scared of his quiet, polite demeanor than they are of the kids who can do any actual damage. Jeonghan likes to tease you for the close nature of your relationship with the other boy though.

You’re about to retort back to Jeonghan when the next VK walks up, his always present companion slinking behind him, and anger flares up in you.

“No. No, fuck this. Living in Auradon is bad enough, but now I have to do it with him there as well?” You glare over at the boy who just walked up.

Minghao, son of the Evil Queen, just stands and stares with a disgusted look plastered on his features.

You and Minghao hate each other, and you have since kindergarten. At first it was just stupid little kid fights, and then petty middle school arguments, but as you’ve gotten older the disdain for one another hasn’t gone away. In fact it’s probably gotten worse.

His little pet, Junhui, son of Cruella de Vil, is never seen more than a few feet behind Minghao anywhere he goes. You don’t have anything against Jun per se, but by association with Minghao, he’s just another enemy.

“That’s only five, where’s the sixth VK?” Wonwoo asks.

With impeccable timing to Wonwoo’s words, the final VK strolls up. Rather than the anger you felt with Minghao, annoyance takes over that feeling. The sixth and final Villain Kid who was chosen, is Chan, son of Gaston.

You don’t have a direct reason to dislike him, other than the fact he has an affinity for getting on your last nerve. Just like his father, he loves to boost his own ego and you can’t help but puke your mouth a bit every time you hear or see it.

You wonder briefly if you still have time to back out. As much as you love Wonwoo and tolerate Jeonghan, you don’t know if they outweigh the other three companions you’ll have. You don’t have time to deliberate though, because soon the barrier is opening and a long black car is pulling up.

A man steps out from the car and greets you all. He quickly confirms your identity before ushering you all into the car. In the back it’s like a lounge area. You could combine all of the Isle and it still wouldn’t be as nice as this car.

The car takes off and soon you guys are on your way to Auradon. You’re staring out the window as you start to leave the Isle when all of a sudden a shiver runs through your body and you start to heat up. You’ve never felt so hot in your life and then you hear Chan scream. You look back at the others in the car and they all look at you terrified.

“What?”

“Your, um, your hair is on fire,” Wonwoo tells you. You reach up and touch your hair only to realize there’s flames in its places.

“Oh.” You do your best at concentrating to make it stop and soon everyone in the car starts to look calm, so you assume it went away. “Well that’s new.”

“It’s probably because of the barrier,” Jeonghan says. “You get to use magic now.”

“Woah, lemme try!” Chan shouts before Minghao smacks him on the back of his head.

“You don’t have magic parents dumbass.”

You sigh and really hope that coming to Auradon isn’t a mistake.

When the car finally pulls up to Auradon Prep, there’s a few people standing at the front. The six of you climb out of the car, taking in your surroundings. The mainland is definitely a lot…brighter, than the Isle.

You squint until your eyes adjust to the lighting. When you can finally identify what you’re looking at you wish you could go back to not seeing. Standing in front of you is the royal family. You watch the way the future king, Seokmin, flicks his eyes from you to Wonwoo to Minghao to Jun. It takes you a moment to realize what he’s doing but he’s looking at your hair. You and Minghao both have blue hair while Wonwoo has purple and Jun has white hair with black stripes. To you it’s never been anything out of the ordinary, but apparently it’s just an Isle thing.

The queen not so subtly nudges Seokmin and he stops his staring. The King smiles at you six as he approaches you.

“Welcome to Auradon! We are so happy to have you here!”

You all stare at the King, not saying anything. He comes to that realization only after he’s looked at you for too long.

“Well, I’ll leave my son here to give you the tour of Auradon Prep. We hope you enjoy your time here, and have a successful future.”

Seokmin steps up and greets you all. “Let me bring you on a tour.”

You and Wonwoo glance at each other before you follow behind the prince. He takes you through the halls, explaining everything as he does, but you’re not paying much attention. It seems the only person who really is paying attention is Wonwoo. Minghao and Jun keep whispering to each other and Chan keeps trying to touch things he shouldn’t. You and Jeonghan stray at the back of the group, bored more than anything.

It isn’t until you approach your first group of AKs that you have full attention. An unsettling feeling creeps down your spine.

“Jihoon, Joshua!” Seokmin calls to them before turning to the group. “Guys, these are my best friends, Jihoon, son of Ariel and Eric, and Joshua, son of Snow White and Ferdidnand.”

“Woah, that’s a lot of leather,” the boy named Joshua mutters. The other boy sizes the VKs up before turning back to Joshua, totally ignoring your presence.

You don’t miss the way Minghao stiffens, his eyes focused on Joshua. It never really occurred to you, but now that you’re in Auradon, you’re going to be meeting the kids of the heroes who your parents were villains to. Well that’s another thing to look forward to.

At the awkward tension in the air, Seokmin bids his friends goodbye and continues with the tour.

“Here at Auradon Prep, everyone has a dorm room. You’ll occupy these three rooms so pair up and feel free to get settled into your rooms or explore around.” With that Seokmin leaves, and you all pair off. You and Wonwoo pair off, to Jeonghan’s demise (who ends up with Chan), but you just brush him off.

As soon as you walk into the room, your nose upturns. You quickly move to shut all of the curtains. “Why is it so goddamn bright here?”

“You grew up underground, everywhere is bright for you,” Wonwoo teases. “You better get used to the light, this is our new home now.”

“As long as they don’t ship me back off to the Isle,” you mutter under your breath. Wonwoo still hears you though.

“That won’t happen, because you’re going to behave yourself. Right?” He gives you a pointed look.

“Yes, sir!” You jokingly salute at him and he rolls his eyes but accepts your answer.

“Just think Y/N, this is the start of our new lives. We’re Auradonians now, and get to go to Auradon Prep. It’s going to be amazing, I can just feel it.”

Despite the growing nerves in your gut, Wonwoo’s upbeat attitude helps soothe them down, just for now at least.

“First day of class, are you excited?” Wonwoo asks as you two get ready for the day.

“It’s just school,” you answer, shrugging noncommittally. The whole week Wonwoo’s been excited to be in Auradon. He’s been in a happy mood, happier than you've ever seen him before. Happier than you’ve ever seen anyone before (you didn’t even know people could be that positive). He even went as far as getting a new wardrobe and a haircut. He looks like a completely new person.

He looks…good.

You always thought back on the Isle that he was just quiet and reserved, but you’re starting to think that was just how he had to be to survive. He’s been more open and active, like he’s found the life inside of him.

You on the other hand, you’ve been dreading being in Auradon since you stepped foot in it. You thought you could do it for Wonwoo’s sake, and it does warm your heart to see him so lively, but you can feel your own self starting to deteriorate. That’s just while you’ve been staying in your room, now you actually have to go to classes filled with all of the Auradonians. You can already feel the snide remarks and the accusations and normally that wouldn’t bother you, but you’re worried about how it will affect Wonwoo’s mood. Back on the Isle you could protect him from anything, but here it’s a whole new playing ground.

“It’s not ‘just school’ it’s proper school now. We get to actually learn from people who want to teach! Why aren’t you more excited?”

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up too high,” you tell him as you pull on your jacket.

“It’s going to be great Y/N, just you wait.”

You can’t do anything but hum at Wonwoo as you sling your bag over your shoulder and head towards the door. Wonwoo is quick to follow and as you two step out of the room, Minghao and Jun are doing just the same. You and Minghao tut at each other before heading off into different directions.

“Even in a new place you’re going to hold the same sentiments to Minghao?”

“Just because we’re in a new place doesn’t mean he’s a whole new Minghao. If you’re that concerned about it, you befriend him first.” Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. “Exactly.”

You walk out of the dorm area and into the classroom part of the school. There’s already a large group of kids wandering about to their classes. When they catch sight of you and Wonwoo they’re quick to give you a wide berth. You don’t pay them mind as you continue walking through the halls.

You and Wonwoo have different first blocks and you two split off, but not before you remind him to come find you at lunch. After Wonwoo leaves you start to navigate your way to your first class. When you walk in there’s already a handful of kids sitting at desks and they all stare as you walk in.

You send a hearty glare in their direction and they all quickly look away. You walk through the desk, noticing the way a couple of the students flinch away from you, before you take your seat in the back of the class.

It’s not long before the whispering starts up. You’re not stupid, you know it’s about you, but you can’t be bothered to listen. You knew it was going to happen, you know they’re not saying anything nice, so why listen to things that are just going to annoy you even more than you already are.

As you were getting up this morning you told yourself that you can’t pay mind to anyone who has something to say about you, no matter how hard they stare or sneer or whisper, you can’t do anything about it. You have to focus on being good now, be the bigger person, so you can stay here with Wonwoo.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself as a group of guys snicker at you and a few girls start to obviously stare at your hair. It’s going to be a long day.

It’s not just the day that turns out to be long, it’s the whole week. Wonwoo seems oblivious to it all claiming “everyone just needs time to warm up” but you also have a suspicion people are either being fake nice to Wonwoo, or not giving him the same treatment as the rest of you due to his new look. Whatever the reason is, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be aware of the comments and glares you and the other boys have been on the receiving end of. 

It’s strange, everyone seems to be scared of you, but at the same time they have no problem making under the breath comments on your upbringing. You’ve definitely been called a ‘freak’ a couple of times and one guy even tried to trip you in the cafeteria. He immediately cowered back when you raised your fist him, but still.

You’ve found a particular enemy in a boy named Seungkwan, the son of Cinderella. He makes the most comments about you and the other VKs and you think you may hate him more than Minghao. You have your third period science class with him and rather than listening to the teacher, he likes to focus his attention on you instead.

“Better watch out with this one, you don’t know what kind of potions they may brew up,” Seungkwan sneers.

“You wanna say that again?” You growl.

“What are you going to do? Light me on fire? They’ll just ship you right back to that slum you call a home. Actually, maybe you should do it. It would get rid of at least one of you vermin.”

That whole interaction happened in front of a teacher, who didn’t say anything. You’ve noticed that’s a recurring theme as well. Teachers love to look past what the Auradonians are saying, but as soon as you glare at someone, you’re the one being told off.

The issue is that Wonwoo has barely been experiencing any of this, and he’s off doing stuff during his free time. He’s found new hobbies and has been practicing his magic with Fairy Godmother and over all soaking up all of the Auradon goodness, which leaves you to spend time with Jeonghan or yourself.

You stand at your locker, wondering if maybe it would be a good thing if you got sent back to the Isle, when a giant body slams into you, shoving you into the lockers.

“Watch it, asshole,” you growl.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I-” The guy’s words cut off when he gets a good look at you. “You’re one of the Villain Kids.”

“And you’re a giant dumbass who can’t watch where he’s walking.”

“Oh right, I’m very sorry about that!” The guy quickly bends at the waist in a bow. When he stands, he stares at you expectantly. “So how are you enjoying Auradon?”

“I don’t remember agreeing to talk to you.” You close your locker with a loud slam. You turn to leave but the guy is in your way. “Move.”

“No, wait-”

Without meaning your hair bursts into flames as you glare at the guy. He jumps back, his reaction causing your hair to go back to normal.

“You’re…you’re the child of Hades…”

You glare up at the tall guy. “Yep. Now if you’ll very kindly move out of my fucking way.” You shove your way past him, surprised at how easily he moved despite his stature. You can’t focus on that though, rather trying to focus on just getting away from him.

“Wait, no! Come back!” The guy grabs your arm and spins you around.

You stare between his frantic face and his hand clamped around your bicep. “I would advise you to let go if you favor that hand.”

He’s quick to release you. “I’m sorry! I just…wanted to talk. I know you uh, Isle kids probably don’t wanna talk to us, but I just want to get to know you guys. This can’t be easy for you and I want to try and get to know you guys before I judge you.”

“So when you do get to know us, you’ll be free to judge?”

“No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant, ugh, that like…it’s unfair for everyone to be saying what they are when they don’t even know you. That’s all.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe we don’t want to talk to you?” With that you turn away again, this time more prepared to deck the big oaf if he touches you again.

As you walk away, he calls to your retreating back, “The name’s Mingyu by the way! Son of Hercules!”

And as much as that interests you, you continue to make your exit, filing that information away for later.

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this situation, but sitting across from you in your dorm is the son of Hercules. It seems after your first encounter he’s been partial to seeking you out as much as he can. You were just walking into your dorm when he bombarded you and all but forced his way into your dorm. So here you are, sitting on your bed, staring at where he sits at your desk.

“You’re here so you can what? Run back to all of your little friends and tell them all about me?”

“Oh no, I actually uh…this is kind of embarrassing, I don’t really have any friends.”

“You live in Auradon, how the hell don’t you have any friends? Aren’t you guys all about friendship and kindness and all that crap?”

“Yeah, we are, but I don’t know. Most people see me as some clumsy, annoying guy.”

“You are a clumsy, annoying guy.”

“I know that, but it’s different when they say it. I don’t know, none of them really like me that much. They don’t even pretend to like me like they do with some of the others.”

“I don’t get that. If you’re not going to like someone, don’t hide it. Honestly, it’s better they don’t fake it with you. I’d rather have a million enemies than one fake friend.”

“It’s different here,” Mingyu says. “Everyone does what it takes to get them higher on the totem pole.”

“And being fake does that? I’ve always openly hated Minghao and I’m the highest on the damn totem pole.”

“Oh no. We’re not allowed to hate anyone. Well I guess, unless it’s me.”

“Why do they even hate you? From what I can tell you’re smart, and strong, and…nice,” you force the last word out. “Sounds like everything everyone here values.”

“I may be smart, but they still think I’m stupid. I probably am sometimes. I guess when you have to be nice all the time, you need someone to be the punching bag to get all of your anger out on. I just happened to be that person.”

“Why don’t you do something about it? Your grandfather is literally Zeus. The Zeus. They should all be bowing to you, not walking all over you.”

You’re not sure why you care so much. Maybe it’s because Mingyu is the only person who hasn’t sneered at you. Maybe it’s because he knows what it’s like to get sneered at.

“What am I supposed to do? Rain lightning bolts down on them? Beat them up with my strength? I can’t do stuff like that, that’s villain stuff.” Mingyu glances over at you, like he said something wrong. Like he’s not supposed to bring up villainy around you. You barely pay attention to him though.

“Hell yeah it is! What’s wrong with a little villany? Beats being a punching bag for the rest of your life.”

“I would be hated even more than I already am,” Mingyu says.

“Villains aren’t even the bad guys. They have good views, people just get mad because they didn’t think of it first. Honestly half of the villains wouldn’t even be villains if it wasn’t for your parents! The two strongest villains on the Isle, Hades and Maleficent, wouldn’t have even become villains if they just got a goddamn invitation to begin with!” It’s something you and Wonwoo have discussed before. The coincidence of your parents path to villainy. “If you ask me, the real villains are the good guys. Real heroes don’t bully others.”

“You know you’re…not nearly as bad as the others make you out to be.”

“Yeah well, I was a lot worse on the Isle. I just know I’ll get shipped back if I do any of my normal activities, and I can’t leave Wonwoo alone here like that.”

“Wonwoo…Maleficent’s son. He’s not like the rest of you guys is he?”

“No, but he’s not like the Auradonians either. He’s probably the only good guy I know. Well I guess, you count now too. But Wonwoo’s a whole different thing. Despite who his mother is, he’s never given into any of it. He couldn’t even hurt a fly, and his conscience keeps him accounted for everything. Even that time he accidentally borrowed a pen from me and forgot to give it back.”

“You really love him, huh?”

“Of course, he’s my best friend.”

“No I mean like…happily ever after love. Romantic love. I can tell by how you talk about him. It’s the same way my mom talks about my dad.”

“You’re mom…Megara.” You decided to change the topic. You don’t want to think about your feelings for Wonwoo, especially now that it seems like he’s ignoring you.

“Yeah…she wasn’t exactly a hero to begin with either. She doesn’t talk about her time with Hades much, but sometimes she brings it up in passing.”

“He’s…something.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s change the topic now.”

“Right…so back to Wonwoo.”

“Or maybe you can just leave all together.” Mingyu grins at you but you keep your face deadpan.

“Okay! No talk about Hades or Wonwoo. Good to know.” Mingyu doesn’t say anything for a moment and you’re about to ask him to not so kindly fuck off when he speaks up again. “So do you have any hobbies?”

“...No.”

“Oh.”

“There’s not exactly a lot to do on the Isle and I doubt you’d consider stealing a hobby.”

“So there’s…nothing you like to do? What have you been doing in your free time? Haven’t you thought about trying new things?” Mingyu spitfires the questions at you, something you’ve noticed he does a lot.

“In my free time I sit in my dorm or spend time with Jeonghan. There’s nothing here I want to do. Why try new things when they all sound awful?”

“You’re pretty pessimistic, you know that?”

“Yeah I do, it’s almost like I was raised by villains.”

“Well let me show you fun things to do! I promise it will be worth your time. Meet me at the front of the school tomorrow after class!” With that Mingyu gets up and leaves. You just stare at the space he was sitting in, trying to process his words.

For some reason you find yourself in front of the school after class the next day. You’re not sure why. Curiosity? Boredom? Some kind of pity for the kid with no friends?

“Y/N! You’re here!” The big guy runs up and attempts to give you a hug but you dodge him before he can. “You won’t be disappointed!”

“I better not be, or I’ll set you on fire.”

Mingyu laughs, not understanding you’re being completely serious. “Let’s go.” He starts to lead you to another part of the school you haven’t explored yet. “I thought I could introduce you to a bunch of things that you may enjoy. Cooking, art, music, reading, sports, gaming. Stuff like that.”

“I know what all of that is, I just don’t have an interest in it.”

“Do you not have an interest in it or are you just afraid to participate in something that’s not villainous?” You don’t answer. “You can’t tell if you don’t like something if you don’t try it! You live in Auradon now, you don’t have to be evil all the time. And don’t think I’m trying to change you from who you are, I’m just trying to…expand who you could be.”

“You’re cheesy, you know that? You sound like Fairy Godmother in Goodness Class but less stuck up and more puppy-like.”

“Puppies are a good thing!”

You just roll your eyes as Mingyu guides you into a room. There’s a bunch of equipment inside and a large mirror on one of the walls. There are a few people inside, using the equipment and it takes you a few seconds to piece together that it's a fitness gym.

“Why did you bring me here?” You turn to look at Mingyu.

“Well you seem to have a lot of pent up feelings and this is a great way to get them out. You can get swole while doing it too!” Mingyu flexes his arm and you try to not show how impressed you are at the size of his bicep. Stupid Hercules kid.

“So what? You just want me to lift weights?”

“Well…more like hit things. C’mere.” Mingyu takes you over to another part of the room where there are large bags hanging from the ceiling. “Punching bags. Just put the gloves on and go at it.” He hands you a pair of large gloves.

“You know on the Isle when you punch someone you don’t wear gloves. Seems like a sissy thing to do.”

“It sounds like protecting your hands from getting hurt. Just put them on.” You do.

You think Mingyu is about to say something else but you ignore him and throw a punch at the bag. You continue to throw punch after punch, working up a sweat and getting out all of your frustrations. The bag swings all over, probably due to your demi-god strength, but you don’t stop.

You don’t stop, until you hear someone cackle behind you. You step back from the bag to turn around and see two people staring at you and Mingyu. One is the small guy you met on the first day, Jihoon maybe? And another guy.

“Look Jihoon, it’s a delinquent and the dumbass,” the new guy scoffs. “Why don’t you two get out of here before you stink up the place.”

“Don’t even bother with them Cheol, they’re probably too stupid to understand what you’re saying,” Jihoon says.

This ‘Cheol’ doesn’t seem to listen to his friend though. “You know you have no right being here. Not just in this room, but at this school, on the mainland. Go back to the Isle where vermin like you belong. And you Mingyu. I knew you were fucking pathetic but hanging around low-lifes like them? You really are the biggest fucking loser in this school aren’t you?”

“Watch your mouth.” You throw the gloves off and start to walk towards the two but you feel a strong hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“Don’t. C’mon, let’s just go. It’s not worth it.” You glare at the pair as Mingyu practically drags you out of the room. He doesn’t say anything else after you two get out of the gym. 

“Hey,” you break the silence, “you said you were going to show me a bunch of things. What’s the next one?”

Mingyu perks up a bit at your enthusiasm and starts to guide you to a new part of the school. When you get there you realize it’s the art wing of the school. You’ve walked through it before but never stopped to look for too long.

You two walk in through the door of a room and to your surprise, Minghao and Jun are in there.

“Nope, we’re leaving,” you tell Mingyu. You try to drag him out of the room but unfortunately for you, he’s a lot stronger than you are.

“Why, what’s wrong? Aren’t those guys also from the Isle?”

“Yeah that’s the problem. Just because we’re from the same place doesn’t mean we’re friends, that’s an Auradon thing. It’s actually common to have a lot more enemies than friends on the Isle.”

“They’re your enemies?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “So let’s go before they see us.”

Mingyu finally seems to understand you and you two silently sneak out of the room. The sad look is back on Mingyu’s face. “Well that’s a two for two bust.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m supposed to be the pessimistic one, remember? There has to be more than punching things and half assed art.”

“Fine, fine. The final thing today is actually my favorite thing to do, so don’t be too harsh on it okay?”

“No promises.”

Mingyu ignores your last statement and leads you to your final destination, the kitchens. “My favorite thing to do is cook!”

You don’t have much time to protest before Mingyu is handing you an apron and getting right to work. You find that you don’t want to protest much anyways. Mingyu seems genuinely excited as he bustles around the kitchen and you may be evil, but not evil enough to kill his happiness. You do as he says and you two talk about your childhoods and yourselves as you work side by side. You find that you’re enjoying yourself, and that maybe you do like Mingyu’s company, just a little bit.

The food also comes out…really good. Better than the dining hall food and way better than anything you’d ever had on the Isle. You and Mingyu sit on the counters of the kitchen as you eat your meal and continue your conversation.

You stare at Mingyu as he goes on a story about trips to Mount Olympus and you decide he’s pretty. Objectively. He has good facial structure and tan skin and nicely styled hair.

“Mingyu,” you cut him off.

“Yes?” He stops his story to look up and stare you in the eyes.

“Uhm…thanks.”

“For what?”

“For…this? For you know,” you struggle to get the words out, you’ve never been the best at showing emotions, “for being my friend.”

Mingyu lights up at this and you think that his smile might be the prettiest thing about him.

“You and Hercules’s kid?” Jeonghan drawls and if you weren’t used to much scarier things creeping up on you, you would have jumped. 

It’s been a few weeks since you admitted to Mingyu that you guys are friends and you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. He just left your dorm when Jeonghan approaches you.

“What do you want Jeonghan?”

“Oh nothing. Just interesting seeing you all buddy-buddy with the big guy. Especially given your parents and the fact you yourself said you’re not gonna be making any friends here.”

“Oh shut up. Don’t act like you’re not always with that pretty boy all the time.”

“Pretty boy? You mean Josh?”

“Josh? A nickname? Really Jeonghan? And you want to try and judge me?”

“Joshua and I aren’t friends. He’s just in like all of my classes and has taken to hanging around me, not the other way around.”

“The Jeonghan I know would have told him to fuck off. You really wanna be with someone who keeps shooting glares at Minghao whenever he can?”

“I guess that makes us even, given he’s the one hanging around Rapunzel’s kid. And anyways, since when are you sticking up for Minghao? You two are sworn enemies.”

“We are, but unlike on the Isle, there are much greater enemies to worry about around here. The Auradonians have it out for all of us, no matter how ‘buddy-buddy’ we get with them,” you say. “You guys can make all the friendships you want, but in their minds, we’re still just villain scum.”

“You’re one to talk. I just saw the son of the guy your father tried to kill walk out of your dorm!”

“He’s not like them!” You argue. “He’s more like us than anything else. He listens and understands when I tell him things. He gets bullied by the kids here, and he’s one of them.”

“You have always been soft for the underdogs haven’t you,” Jeonghan says. His tone is condescending and you know he’s referring to Wonwoo.

“I’m just saying you can’t judge me when you’re doing the exact same thing. If you want to judge someone, maybe start with the people who are the actual enemy.” With that you slam your dorm door in Jeonghan’s face.

A few minutes later you hear a knock on the door and you all but growl. You storm over to the door and throw it open, expecting to see Jeonghan, but instead you see Wonwoo, his hands full of books. It really shouldn’t surprise you to see him, considering he lives here, but in all honesty you haven’t really seen him in a few days.

“Thanks Y/N, I couldn’t really open the door with my hands full.” Wonwoo walks into the room and dumps the books on his desk.

You stand at the door, staring at your best friend. You’re not sure what you’re feeling. Relief to see your best friend. Anger because you haven’t seen him in a few days. Sadness because you miss him and even though he’s right in front of you, you still miss him.

Wonwoo turns to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uhm, uh…no,” you admit. You finally close the dorm door and trudge over to Wonwoo’s bed (it’s closer) before flopping down. “It’s like…too much has changed since coming here. I don’t see you anymore and Jeonghan and I got into a fight and everyone here sucks.”

Wonwoo slowly crawls up onto his bed as well, and draws you into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we haven’t seen much of each other lately. I’m sorry you don’t like it here. I shouldn’t have forced you to-”

“No don’t,” you tell him. “I made the choice to come here, don’t blame yourself. I just wish…I wish it wasn’t like this. That’s all.”

“I know,” Wonwoo murmurs. “How about this…you’ll have me this whole weekend to yourself. Just us hanging out. How does that sound?”

“Wonwoo I would love to, but I…kind of have plans?”

“Plans?”

“Yeah…Mingyu’s supposed to be taking me to town to go shopping? Or something like that?”

“Mingyu…that’s…Hercules’ son?”

“Yeah…we’re kind of friends? He’s like the only person here I like, but that’s only because he’s not an asshole. He kind of reminds me of you, but he’s like a total extravert.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that. “Well I’d like to meet this Mingyu who’s been keeping you company. Maybe we could all spend time together?”

You bury yourself further into Wonwoo’s arms and smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

You’re not sure how it’s happened but Wonwoo and Mingyu get along really well, maybe a little too much, because now your days are spent with both Mingyu and Wonwoo, to the point where you don’t get a break from them. Like three peas in a pod, or whatever Fairy Godmother said to you. You don’t mind, you’re actually happy that Mingyu and Wonwoo get along so well, but it doesn’t cover up the fact that Auradonian’s have gotten worse, and now that Wonwoo is actively hanging around you again, he’s started to become at the end of their insults as well.

You can take the insults, but it makes your boil absolutely boil hearing them thrown at the two boys. There’s been plenty of times where they have to pull you away from the AKs, saying how you can’t turn into what they want you to. You really don’t care what happens to you, as long as they leave Mingyu and Wonwoo alone, but they do care what happens to you so you have to stay at least somewhat under control.

You’ve recently realized that you’d do just about anything for Mingyu and Wonwoo and as much as that scares you, it also doesn’t. You love them and they mean the world to you and as long as it took you to admit that for Mingyu, it’s true.

Which is why you’re here, standing at the Parents’ Day event, even though your dad is back on the Isle, most likely sitting in his chair and watching TV. Mingyu asked you to be here, so you came.

You, Mingyu, and Wonwoo are standing at the edge of the set up, staring at everyone else. You watch everyone with their families, smiling and hugging and laughing. You’re rightfully uncomfortable, but you try not to show that to Mingyu.

Your eyes sweep over the crowd again when they stop on a large figure at the entrance of the garden. You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, breaking the silence that you, Mingyu, and Wonwoo were standing in. “I didn’t know your dad would be making an appearance,” you mutter under your breath.

“Neither did I,” Mingyu responds.

Your hand automatically reaches for Wonwoo’s and he accepts, holding onto you tight. Mingyu excuses himself, telling you two not to move, before he moves to greet his parents. It looks like the three have a brief conversation before they start to make your way towards you and Wonwoo. You quickly avert your eyes so it doesn’t look like you were blatantly staring.

“Well son, let’s meet these friends of yours.” You hear Hercules’s booming voice before you see him, but it’s not long before Mingyu and his parents are standing in front of you.

Before anyone can say anything, Megara gasps. “You look…just like him.”

“Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Y/N and Wonwoo.” Mingyou shoots you an apologetic look.

“The…villain kids…” Hercules mutters.

“Nice to meet you sir,” you stick your hand out and you don’t miss the way Megara flinches a bit. Hercules wraps a large arm around his wife. You lower your hand.

“Hello Mr. Hercules, Mrs. Megara. You have raised a wonderful son. He’s been nothing but kind and accepting since we’ve met, and he’s shaped up to be a phenomenal friend,” Wonwoo says to the couple. They look less…on edge talking to Wonwoo. Maybe because he’s in an actual suit and you couldn’t be bothered to put on something nicer than a slightly wrinkled button up shirt and your nicest leather bottoms.

“Let’s meet some more of your friends, son.” Hercules claps a large hand onto Mingyu’s back and he stumbles a bit.

“Dad, I told you, I don’t have very many friends here.”

“Sure you do! Who couldn’t love this face,” Megara coos before pinching Mingyu’s cheek.

“A lot of people,” Mingyu mumbles softly so only you and Wonwoo hear.

“So Mingyu? These other friends?”

“I don’t have any other friends Dad!”

“You’re only friends are…the kids of the two worst villains of all time? No you’re lying, no son of mine would be friends with such degenerates!”

“Don’t call them that,” Mingyu growls. “Dad you’re being unfair.”

“Unfair? You’re friends with the children of Hades and Malficent.”

“So what? They are amazing people and you can’t judge them just because of where they come from. What makes them any different than Mom-”

“MINGYU!” Hercules booms. “That is no way to talk about your mother. Son, we’re very disa-”

“When are you not! Why did you even show up today? You’ve always been too busy for me and when you do pay attention to me, it’s to tell me how much I don’t live up to your expectations. Just leave already,” Mingyu spits out. “I don’t know why any of us are here, let’s go.” Mingyu roughly grabs your arm and tugs you away, Wonwoo following.

Mingyu storms all the way to the dorms before he calms down. He’s still grabbing onto your arm tightly and you gently try to pull your arm out of his grip before he realizes.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Y/N. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. High pain tolerance.”

You three stand in silence as Mingyu sighs. “I’m…I’m sorry about them.”

“It's not your fault,” Wonwoo is quick to assure him.

“I should have known-”

“You couldn’t have known anything. It’s fine, nothing we’re not used to,” you say softly. “Let’s just…go back to the dorm, yeah?”

It’s somber as you walk back to the dorm, and nobody says anything as you crawl into your bed, Mingyu and Wonwoo following, sandwiching you in the middle. The silence continues as you hold each other, until you eventually drift to sleep.

You’re rarely guilty about anything, but you are a bit guilty for not seeing Jeonghan in a while. He is, admittedly, your friend, and you haven’t seen much of him since Mingyu and Wonwoo have gotten close. You blame yourself, but you start to rethink that thought when you catch him all but sneaking out of Minghao and Jun’s dorm one day.

“What the hell are you doing hanging around those guys?” You confront Jeonghan. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, but his face is somber.

“Listen Y/N, this might be something you want to stay out of.” Jeonghan’s tone isn’t threatening like it normally would have been. He is giving you a warning. He pushes past you.

“Jeonghan.” At the call of his name he stops, but doesn’t turn around. “When have you ever gotten into mischief without me?”

You see Jeonghan’s shoulders rise and fall before he turns back around. “We can’t talk about it here.”

He takes you to his dorm. You sit down at his desk, noting the way their room still looks the exact way when they moved in.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. Even if you don’t approve, you can’t stop us. You have to promise me that Y/N.” Promises are a big deal on the Isle because they’re enforced. You break a promise, and you’ll get your arm broken in return.

“...I promise.”

“Minghao, Jun, Chan, and I are gonna take down the crown. We’re tired of the way we’re being treated. They promised a better future and all they’re doing is making us want to go back to the Isle, which is saying something.”

“Take down the crown…?”

“Yeah. We’ve already started a plan. We’re gonna make all of Auradon pay, and then maybe we’ll even take over the world.” Jeonghan shrugs his shoulders.

“Woah, wait, hold up. What?”

“Y/N. C’mon dude you’re like…one of the evilest people I know. Don’t you get it? We’re gonna break into the Museum of Cultural History, get Fairy Godmother’s wand, and finally do what our parents couldn’t all those years ago.”

You wonder how long the boys have been planning this. You wonder if they would have told you if you didn’t catch them before they executed the plan. Knowing Minghao, probably not. 

“We’d actually really appreciate your help if you’d like to give it. Wonwoo’s too, but I think he’s put all the villainy behind him,” Jeonghan scoffs. “Waste of potential. The son of Maleficent, and all he wants to do is read books.”

“What are you going to do when you do take down the crown?” You ignore the dig at Wonwoo, because if you don’t Jeonghan would be sporting a black eye.

“Not sure yet. If you’re worried about us hurting your precious little Wonwoo, don’t worry. No matter how much of a goody two shoes he is, he’s still one of us.”

“And everyone else in Auradon?” You think that if Jeonghan lays even a finger on Mingyu that you’ll castrate him.

“They’ll bow to us now, and do what we say. It doesn’t matter what happens to them, it will be us who have the power. So are you in or what?” Jeonghan stares back at you expectantly.

“I-” You contemplate your options.

You think about every Auradonian who’s scoffed at you and whispered behind your back. You think about the condescending remarks on teachers' tongues and the shifty looks the parents keep sending you. You think about your father who scoffed at you everytime you tried to tell him about your newest villainous act. You think about Wonwoo and Mingyu whose safety needs to be ensured.

You look back up at Jeonghan. “I’m in.” 

“Nice to have you,” Minghao drawls as you walk into the next meeting with Jeonghan. “Finally came to your senses?”

“Just figured you’d need a lot more brains to counteract your stupidity,” you retort.

“Whatever the reason is,” Jun butts in, “we’re happy you’re here. Besides Minghao, you’re the only one of us who can use magic.”

“Technically, Wonwoo ca-” Your glare cuts Jeonghan off.

“What even are all of your powers?” Chan asks you.

You give them a run down of all of your powers. Fire and smoke manipulation, like your dad. High pain tolerance and increased strength because of demi-god powers. Manipulation of souls and the dead. All the basics.

“Yeah…yeah we can work with this,” Minghao mutters. “With the plans we have…we could put them into action by the end of next week.”

“And you’re 100% in?” Jun questions you.

“Yeah…of course. We’ll make them all pay.” Pay for how they treat you. Pay for how they Wonwoo. Pay for how they treat Mingyu. Pay for all of it.

“Well then, it looks like we have a team.” And something about that excites you.

A week after your first meeting with the other VKs you guys have a solid plan of action, and you’re ready to execute it. It’s a bit strange to actually be getting along with Minghao and Jun, but you decide they’re not as bad as they used to be. Or maybe you’re just finally giving them a chance. Either way, you find that you can stand to be around them for prolonged periods of time.

They’re not the only ones that you’ve had new revelations for. Sitting in the meetings, planning to take over Auradon, you think about how you’re doing it all for Mingyu and Wonwoo. Your boys. You’d honestly go to war for them if they asked. You think you may love them, but then again you’re not exactly sure what love feels like. Nonetheless, they mean the world to you, and so you’ll do everything in your power to give them what they deserve.

You hate to admit it, but you’re also a bit excited to get back into villainy. You know it’s the morally wrong thing to do, but when have you ever cared about morally correct? You miss the thrill you get from plotting something and carrying it out. The only time you ever feel a bit bad about it is when you come home to see Mingyu and Wonwoo waiting for you in the dorm.

“Where have you been going the past few nights? I miss you.” Mingyu pulls you into a hug, resting his head on yours.

Your heart swells. “I’ve just been with Jeonghan. I feel bad for leaving him out to dry lately. You know I do have other important people in my life than just you two.”

“When has anyone ever been more important to you than me?” Wonwoo questions and well, he’s got you there.

“We are still your favorites though, right?” Mingyu looks at you with his big puppy dog eyes and you roll your eyes but inside your stomach flutters with butterflies.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You push yourself out of Mingyu’s arms so you can start to get ready for bed. “Are you spending the night again Mingyu?”

“Can I?” He looks at you hopefully and grins wide when you nod.

You crawl into bed and Mingyu follows after, and even though Wonwoo was on his own bed, he makes the short trip over to yours so he can crawl in too. Snuggled in between both of them, you think about how there’s nowhere else you want to be. Even if you don’t have a label, you sleep peacefully knowing that everything you do, it’s for them.

You’re nervous, but only because you want things to go well. You don’t think you’re going to fail, but if you do, you just want to make sure your boys are okay. Minghao has decided that today is the day you’re going to execute the plan and then after this, everything will be over. You guys will finally be safe, and happy, and together.

The plan is to meet up at the museum where Jeonghan and Minghao will steal the wand while you, Chan, and Jun will do damage control. From there you will storm the castle and capture the royal family, before finally taking over all of Auradon. There’s a lot that could go wrong, but in turn there’s a lot that could go right which is a risk you have to take.

You quickly crawl out of bed, through the foot of the bed so you don’t have to crawl over the two bodies on either side of you. You slip out of bed and start to pull off your pajamas to grab your clothes.

“Y/N?” The soft, sleepy voice stops you in your tracks. You don’t want to turn around, because if you do you’ll be tempted to just crawl right back into bed with your boys, but you have to do this, for them. “Y/N what are you doing? It’s late.”

“I have to go. I need to go do something right now,” you say as you continue to pull on your clothes.

“What could you possibly have to do at 3 am?” The other tempting voice in your bed sounds out. Great now they’re both awake.

“I have to go meet with Jeonghan, it’s very important and I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but just know that everything that happens has a reason. If things seem wrong, don’t freak out, it will all work out.”

“What are you talking about?” You hear shuffling in bed, meaning that most likely Wonwoo is sitting up.

“Just explain to us where you’re going, Y/N,” Mingyu says. “Why are you meeting Jeonghan at 3 am? You two have been very suspicious lately.”

“...If I tell you something, you have to promise you’ll keep it secret, okay?”

“Oh this is serious,” Wonwoo mutters.

“We promi-”

“We promise to our best ability to keep it secret,” Wonwoo cuts Mingyu off, having more experience dealing with Isle promise, “but we cannot promise our full secrecy if we deem fit to bring others in.”

That’s a good enough answer for you, and you finally turn around to face the two boys. They’re both sitting up, staring at you with half-tired looks on their faces. “The past couple weeks I’ve been meeting with Jeonghan and the other VKs. They’re planning on stealing Fairy Godmother’s wand and taking over Auradon, and I’m going to help them.”

“What!” Wonwoo roars, fully awake now. He quickly climbs out of bed to approach you. Mingyu hastily follows, a more concerned look on his face.

“Are you going to be safe? Did the others force you into this?” Mingyu, always the caretaker, rushes to make sure you’re okay.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, does not share the same sentiments. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you know how risky and stupid this is?” 

“Yes I know how stupid this is, okay, but it’s just something I have to do. I can’t give you all the details right now, but you guys just have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You’ve been off planning world domination with Minghao,” Wonwoo says.

“I know, okay, and I’m sorry and I promise we’ll talk about it later, but I really have to go.”

“What are we supposed to do? Sit around and wait while you just take over the kingdom?”

“Y/N, I don’t like this. What if you get hurt, or caught? Do you trust the others to have your back?” Mingyu asks, your safety still being his biggest concern. “Why can’t you just stay here?”

“I have to do this Gyu…I can’t keep living here like this, but I can’t go back to the Isle. Things won’t get better unless we make them better.” You grab his hand in yours and squeeze tight. “You have to understand what I mean.”

“I’m with Mingyu on this one Y/N. I don’t want you doing this without any kind of back up.”

“Then join us,” you blurt out. Both of them look like they want to say something, but the words die on their tongues. “Everyone here treats both of you like shit. Don’t you want to do something other than sit back and let them? You two both deserve the world, so let me give it to you.” You reach up and cup both of their faces one hand each.

“Wh-what about-”

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure everything out. But I need you both to be with me.” You recall the words Wonwoo told you long ago. “I can’t live a fulfilling life without you two in it.”

“Okay,” Mingyu breathes out. You’re a bit surprised he’s the one who responded first.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I- I love you. If this is what you choose, then I’ll follow you to the end of the earth.”

You ignore the way you feel your stomach flutter at his words. You instead face the other man standing in front of you. “Woo?”

“You trust those four?”

“I trust they’re doing what’s best for us.”

“And we’ll be free?”

“No evil parents. No royal bullies. We make the rules now.”

“And it will be us together?”

“Forever.”

Wonwoo’s eyes search your face to make sure you’re sincere, but you both know you’ve never lied to Wonwoo a day in your life. His eyes flick over to Mingyu before looking back at you. “Okay.”

Relief surges through your body and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so powerful in your life. Mingyu pulls you into a hug and you snuggle into his large chest. You feel Wonwoo wrap himself around your back, once again sandwiching you between the two men.

The others can wait a few minutes, you think as you relax in their arms. You relish in the comfort of their warm bodies pressed into yours, enjoying the calm before the storm. You’re not worried though. You’re not worried at all. You have your two boys by your side and a plan to take over the world, what else could you need?

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reading fics have become my coping mechanism and I mean it

Say It Back.

Synopsis: A tipsy Joshua is a clingy Joshua.

Characters: Joshua Hong × Reader

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, Joshua is tipsy, Joshua sings like a line from Ditto by New Jeans, playful insults.

Word count: 688

The apartment is dark and quiet when Joshua opens the door and stumbles into the living room. After regaining his balance, he turns around to shut the door and accidentally slams it a little too hard.

"Shhhh," he slurs as he shushes himself. "Y/n is sleeping."

He makes his way to the bedroom, not without bumping into a few pieces of furniture on the way, to find you under the blanket with your back facing the door.

"Y/n..." He whines while crawling towards you on the bed before throwing his entire weight onto you.

The smell of alcohol hits you before you can even open your eyes.

"Shua what the fuck," you grumble, slightly pissed about being woken up from your slumber.

Joshua tries to plant a kiss onto your lips as you turned to face him but misses and the kiss lands on your cheek instead.

"Shua..." You groan as you attempt to push him off you. "Get off me, you stink."

His head shoots up at your words.

"How could you say that Y/n," his voice wobbly as his eyes turns glassy. "That's so hurtful."

You let out a big sigh at his theatrics. "I meant the smell of alcohol all over you and your breath stinks Shua."

He lets his head drop back into the crook of your neck.

"My feelings are hurt," he sighs dramatically, "why do the people I love hurt me."

You know that the only way to stop him is to play along with him.

"What can I do to fix this," your tone is nonchalant, all you could think about is getting him off you so you can go back to sleep.

"Geez y/n, the least you can do is pretend to sound like you care after hurting my feelings like that."

"Okay Shua, I'm so sorry for hurting your feelings. How can I make amends?" Using the most pretentious and sweet voice you can come up with as you meet his droopy eyes that are now right in front of your own.

"You could make it up to me by giving me a kiss," he suggests with a smirk.

"Absolutely not with that alcohol breath." You retort.

You see a pout form on his face and in that moment he looks so adorable that you couldn't bring yourself to care about the smell of alcohol anymore.

You lean forward to give him a quick peck.

"Can you get off me now?"

He scoffs. "That wasn't a real kiss and you know it."

"God you're annoying when you're drunk." You mumble under your breath.

"I heard th-"

Before he can finish his words, you shut him up with a kiss. After breaking away, Joshua finally rolls off you to lie on his side of the bed and you turn away from him to go back to sleep.

There's a beat of silence then you feel him moving behind you, his strong arms soon find their way around your waist.

"I love you," he says softly.

You hum quietly in response then you feel his grip tighten, "why aren't you saying it back."

"Can you please just let me sleep in peace?"

Joshua begins humming a tune into your ear then starts singing, "말해줘 say it back..."

When you continue ignoring him, he goes back to whining.

"Y/n... Say it back..." He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck.

"If I say it back will you finally shut up and let me sleep?"

"Yes," he replies a little too eagerly.

"Okay fine I love you," you say back incoherently.

His legs come up to wrap around yours. "Can you at least say it like you mean it?"

"That wasn't part of the agreement."

"Y/n..." More whines from him as his hold on you tightens even more.

"I'd actually love you if you took a shower and brushed your teeth."

"If I do that will you say it back?"

"We'll see."

"Okay wait for me," he gets up from the bed and scrambles to the bathroom.

"Don't fall asleep!" You hear him yell through the sound of the running water.

a/n: this was not inspired by that one scene from in the soop at all ahahahahaha :-) -bibi

Oh, Baby!

Pairings: seungkwan x reader

Genre: slight angst (if you'd squint), fluff

Hi! Similar to my previous works, this is not yet proofread and was written poorly (I know). I was planning to post this on SK's birthday but I got distracted. Anyway, I hope you'll like this and please let me know how I can improve my writings. Thank you! :)

Ps. I was listening to this song and got inspired to write this fic hehe. You might want to give it a listen ^^

Pps. Belated happy birthday to our bootamin! Let's give them more love this year <3

Seungkwan is adamant. He knows what he wants and will dilligently work to earn his goals. He's never hasty with decisions and often check on the pros and cons repeatedly before acting on it. True to his friends' words, he is indeed one resolute man.

But even the strongest have weaknesses. Batman has a kryptonite— and so is he, who's now unsure whether he did the right thing for his heart's sake, for his sake.

For a moment he wished that there is a time machine to undo his hasty decisions brought by the emotions he tries so hard to keep in. But no such thing could erase his messages and a promise of song he would lovingly sing, wishing you'd hold onto the words like how you got him wrapped around your fingers.

"You're out of it again, Seungkwan. Are you drunk?" the sound of your voice brought him back to reality, following your chuckles as you tell him how long he was staring blankly at you.

"Shut up. I wasn't even able to drink with the members tonight" he retorted as he passed you a can of beer. "I pity them, though. I'm having one right now"

"I don't think one can of beer can get you drunk. If that was your plan for inviting me tonight, you failed Boo Seungkwan" you rolled your eyes at him and munched on the snacks you bought on the way to the hill.

"I wasn't planning on getting drunk. I told you we'll be stargazing" with  dismissive hand gesture, the apple of his eyes replied, "It's the first time you weren't thinking thoroughly. There are no stars. Can't you see?" For the nth time, you rolled your eyes at him and quickly changed your position. He gave you a glance as you sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulders, continuing to munch on your snacks.

For a second, he looked at the sky and saw nothing but dark clouds. But was it really the first time he didn't think through things? There are more times than that, if he would remember corre tly. Like how he skipped practice to make sure you'll get home safe or how he bailed on his trip, planned months before, with Seokmin the last minute so he can accompany you to your family dinner — but he will never tell you that. At least, not now.

He huffed. "I guess we'll be SKYgazing then." He took a sip of his own beer and let his eyes wander around. The surroundings felt like home and kind of gave him light albeit dark. This is how he pictured his future, long ago. Peace. Silence. With you.

It doesn't matter if you'll end up with someone else. He promised himself that he'd be the best friend you can always count on. He'd stay with you through thick and thin, be the best uncle your future children could ever ask for, and give you all the support you need even if he's just on the sidelines.

But, as long as no dude has the guts to take you away from him, he'd wait for a miracle— for you to magically see him from a different light and realize how your best friend is smitten and is actually head over heels in love with you. If only... if only you could see.

To fulfill his promise earlier, he started singing lines from their song imperfect love, knowing how much you loved it because it gives you feelings you can't explain.

Seungkwan didn't realize that you linked your arms with his the entire time, not until your grip tightened as the song came to an end. He wouldn't dare look at you for he knows he might kiss you right then and there because of how giddy he feels inside. "used to this.."

"What did you say?" you let go of his arms only to turn and face him. "I said, I can get used to this." You started. "You know... it's just me and you, us. Amidst the chaotic world we live in, I can only ever find peace if I'm with you. I don't mind living my life if every single day would be spent with you, Seungkwan."

The man was loss for words. His brain went haywired. Was he dreaming? Was that a confession of sort? He wished somebody would pinch him.

"I... wow. I don't know what to say" he wished he just kept his mouth closed after seeing a look of disappointment crossed over your face. If he felt bad after saying those words, he now feels worse after you gave a weak smile in return followed by you, telling him to ignore what happened. "Just forget I said a single thing" you added.

"Wait. What? No, no!" He panicked, not knowing what to do with his hands but ended up reaching over to grab yours. "Was that a confession? Do you like me more than a best friend should?" He questioned.

You gave him a confused look but anwered his questions nonetheless. "Well, yes... and yes" before you could utter another word, you were enveloped in a tight, warm hug. Him whispering how much he prayed to be in the same exact moment you are now and eventually confessing the feelings he tried to surpress.

He checked the time, 11:58, without letting you go, he muttered "I'm too shy to see your face while I tell you this... but since it is still my birthday, would you do the honor to fulfill one of my wishes, and be mine?"

On the same spot at midnight, his wish came true, sealed with a tighter hug and a sweet kiss not in haste.

strangers-to-lovers au with uni classmate!seungkwan

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by @seungcy : HIII WIFEYYY CONGRATS ON 1K MUAH MUAH <3 i hope ur taking good care of urself <3 luv u sm muah; may i request 🫣 uni student kwan strangers to lovers where kwan wants to get to know fem!reader so as a way to slowly open up to her, he buys her snacks and leaves them by where she sits along with little notes <//3 KINDA LIKE A SECRET ADMIRER 🫣 and they talk this way for a couple months and reader wants to know them better so kwan gives them his number and then they meet up and yeah <3 fall in luv kiss kiss smoochies very fluffy i love him i won’t him yes yes 🫣🫣

a/n: hai waifey 💗💗 i hope you like how your req turned out muah muah!!!! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY I HOPE YOU HAVE A SEGGSYLICIOUS DAY EVERYONE GO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WAIF RN >:( 💗

word count | 2.1k

pairing | boo seungkwan (svt) x f!reader

genre | fluff, humour (a lil), university au, strangers-to-lovers au

warning(s) / includes | food mentions (please lmk if i missed anything!)

you were his classmate in one of his electives

it was one of those easy-a courses where the professor reads off the slides and you can afford to not pay attention and still do pretty well as long as you memorise everything

so most people pretty much either skipped class or blatantly didn’t pay attention, treating the lecture as a 2-hour podcast for background noise

seungkwan wouldn’t say he was the best student, but he thinks it’s a safe estimate that he tried harder than 80% of the people who even showed up to class

it wasn’t a very fun time though </3 with people either dozing off or doing their own thing, he hadn’t made a single friend in the class because it just felt awkward to suddenly approach someone halfway through the semester :(

sometimes vernon snuck into the auditorium to keep him company whenever he didn’t have tutorials <3 we love friends <3

but the lecturer was just so good at lulling people to sleep that he’s usually out cold half an hour in </3 once again leaving seungkwan to his own devices </3

boooooooo (affectionate)

the class had to do an individual presentation on an assigned topic, and in the lesson following the deadline your lecturer randomly picked twenty people off the name list to present theirs in front of everyone

that was the day you caught seungkwan’s eye <333

everyone else before you didn’t bother trying to look like they were interested in the topic, which was understandable, but that meant their presentations were barely engaging and he was fighting to keep his eyes open 😭

but then your name was called, and he heard murmured apologies from a few rows behind him as you made your way down to the podium

you were so cute with your glasses, the large lens complementing your bright eyes perfectly as you shyly began speaking

but perhaps the most attractive part about you was your attitude; you were cheerful and friendly, not excessively so, but enough to have the bored audience paying attention

seungkwan could tell you were nervous: your voice quivered a little at certain points and you fumbled over your words a little whenever the computer was being slow and refused to move onto the next slide despite your frantic clicking, but you recovered quickly after each time

you ended your presentation with a shy smile and an awkward little bow that made some people (including himself) giggle good-naturedly, and he watched fondly as you gave the lecturer a polite nod before practically running back to your seat from embarrassment

he snuck a glance over his shoulder at you, smiling to himself when he found you ducking your head to shield your flustered face from the people sitting near you

he took an instant liking to you that day; you just radiated such positive vibes, and he admired that 🥺

poor kwan wanted to your friend so, so badly, but he didn’t know how to approach you without coming off weird or awkward ;-;

by a stroke of luck, you sat directly in front of him in the next class, an idea popped into his head when you left the auditorium during the 10-minute break

he bought a chocolate bar that morning for when he got hungry or wanted a snack, but then he thought it might be nice to give it to you instead in case you needed a pick-me-up, and who doesn’t like free food?

so he whipped out the little pad of sticky notes he always brought with him (they’re cute—they have little bears holding tangerines on the bottom), and wrote you a short message

you came back to your seat after a quick bathroom break to find a chocolate bar on your tray table along with a small note, you looked around a bit but everyone seemed busy doing their own thing, looking completely inconspicuous; you had no friends in this class so you knew it wasn’t a prank, and no one came up telling you it was meant for someone else either

it left you confused, but you weren’t about to complain about a small act of kindness from one of your classmates

seungkwan couldn’t see, but you had the biggest smile on your face as you read the note, your finger tracing over the pretty, neat penmanship

i hope you like chocolate ^v^ good luck with your classes if you have more after this one!

you did have another class later in the day, and it was a tough one too—your mystery classmate has a good hunch, it seems

your friend seokmin noted the skip in your step as you met up with him for dinner that night, and you excitedly pulled out the chocolate and the note to show him

“looks like someone has a secret admirer,” he affectionately teased, but it couldn’t be, right? you never talked to anyone in this class aside from that one time you asked a boy for a spare sheet of paper. plus, the class has over a hundred people, you’d be practically invisible

you thought you just got lucky that one time, but the notes kept coming for every lesson that followed, and the snack or drink that came with each sticky note was also different every week

even the girl who sat next to you during one of the lectures gushed over how sweet the gesture was when she saw you reading the note, and it led you to realise just how much you liked this mystery person, how they managed to get you to look forward to a morning class on a monday

deep down, you were dying to know who they were because they seem so thoughtful and easy to talk to; you’d love to meet them to thank them for their kindness and maybe even treat them to lunch or dinner as a sign of gratitude. who knows? perhaps you’d even end up being friends

and technically, you knew it’d be easy to catch them in the act—pretend to leave your seat and spy from afar until the mystery person made their move, but you resisted the urge with all your willpower, because if they wanted to reveal themselves, they would’ve; the fact that they didn’t told you they most likely weren’t comfortable with doing so yet, and you wanted to respect that

so you decided to communicate with them another way: by leaving them a snack and a little message of your own

bonus: it was also a great chance to finally break out your hoard of adorable stickers and notepads <3

your messages to each other got longer and longer; from just a few sentences wishing the other a lovely rest of the day, to short paragraphs telling each other little tidbits about yourselves and your week

you found out that they like tangerines (which made sense given the sticky notes they use), that they’re a journalism major, and that they like playing badminton and hanging out with their friends when they have free time <3 all of which you found completely endearing

seungkwan loves your notes with all his heart ;-; he honestly wasn’t expecting you to return the gesture, simply wanting to do something nice for someone who seemed like a fun person to be around, but the fact that you did has his heart racing and heat rushing to his cheeks

all his friends playfully teased him for how giddy he acted whenever he showed them your notes, but for once he didn’t really mind the teasing because he was far, far too whipped to care

lich rally bought a little folder to keep all your sticky notes so they wouldn’t get all crumpled in his bag <3 he reads them whenever he’s frustrated with something, because knowing you see him as a friend despite you two not even knowing each other cheers him up after a long day :(

you were having so much fun exchanging messages this way that it didn’t hit you until the second to last lecture that you’d potentially never get to genuinely know this incredibly sweet person in your class

and while you knew there was the chance of them not wanting to reveal themselves and preferring to leave this in the past once the semester ended, you still wanted to give it a shot ;-;

seungkwan’s hands were shaking a little as he read your note

you totally don’t have to agree if you’re not comfortable, but i’d love to meet you :’)

suddenly, he’s hit with a wave of self-doubt </3 it’s a lot easier to seem cool over paper or text or basically anything that didn’t involve spontaneous, on-the-spot situations, he’s not sure if you’d find him as interesting or fun to talk to once you got to know him irl :(((((

you didn’t hear from him that class, which made you a little sad, but you were ready to prepare yourself for the inevitable outcome that you’d never know who this person is and that this all would simply remain a fond memory in your uni life </3

the week leading up to the last lecture, all of seungkwan’s closest friends hyped him up so much 😞 they knew how much he liked you and from the notes you wrote back it was clear that you liked him just as much

after a lot of encouragement, he wrote you the final note and dropped it off at your table during the 10-minute break

let’s meet up after lecture today >< i’ll wait for you by the water dispensers outside the auditorium

to say you were vibrating with excitement after you read his note was an understatement

finally!!!! you get to find out who your mystery friend is!!!!!!!!

you could barely focus for the rest of the class, which wasn’t a huge deal anyways as the lecturer was simply going over the answers to your quiz

you kept glancing at the clock in the hall, at your watch, at the time on your laptop, then the time on your phone, eagerly counting down the minutes to the end of class

when your lecturer dismissed everyone, you were so nervous that you felt like you were going to throw up, for a split second you wondered if this was a good idea, but you ultimately decided to take a few deep breaths to compose yourself before heading outside

most of your classmates had already dispersed, not wanting to linger on campus for any longer after their last lecture of the day, so it was easy to narrow down who your mystery friend was

as you walked over to the water dispensers, you couldn’t help but think how it was almost too good to be true: standing next to the dispensers was a cute boy with the fluffiest hair and squishiest cheeks, wearing what looks like the softest sweater ever as he anxiously rocked back and forth on his heels

maybe this is a coincidence? maybe he isn’t the person you’re looking for but a cute guy who just so happened to be waiting for someone else?

all these questions brewing in your head were squashed when he gave you a shy smile as you drew closer, a quiet “hi” passing through his pretty lips

it was awkward, but not uncomfortably so

“are you…?” “the person who wrote you the notes? yeah, that’s me.”

you noticed how he wrung his hands together nervously as he confessed, and hoped that the warm smile you gave in return would be enough to reassure him

“it was so sweet of you to do that for me, thank you. i’m y/n, but you probably already knew that.”

he chuckles, cheeks still tinged a rosy pink, “yeah… i’m seungkwan.”

“well, seungkwan, i don’t have class after this anymore, so do you want to get lunch together?”

his eyes almost bugged out of his head at your invitation, but he quickly recovered and eagerly agreed, telling you he knew about this new place just outside campus that had really good sushi

you honestly couldn’t believe your luck: he was funny, sweet, and kind, and the two of you chatted like you’ve been friends for years as you ate, even going to get coffee together after because neither of you wanted your conversation to end <33 after a few more months of being friends and getting to know each other, he asked you out properly during one of your coffee shop study dates 💗

and now after almost two years of dating, the two of you still kept those notes from all those months ago in a little box tucked away safely in a desk drawer at your apartment

and when your friends asked you two if you were going to save them to show your future children, seungkwan merely responded with two playful, haughty words

“yeah, and?”

a/n: will proofread tmr bc it’s 3am rn and i have to get up for class in a few hours HWJSHAJ anyways waifey if ur reading this i hope you liked this :’))) 💗💗 ily a lot teehee kissies smooches

if you enjoyed my writing, please take a little time to reblog and give feedback to support it <3 it tells content creators what you like and motivates them to keep creating for you <3

back to reblog because this is so good

carter baizen- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!natasha romanoff, platonic!sam wilson, platonic!steve rogers and mentions of tony stark

warnings: language, oblivious idiots

about: part two to oblivious idiots in love and their annoyed friends (p2 to gummy, but can be read as stand alone)

you’re sprawled out on the couch, muscles aching and a large yellowing bruise beginning to form along your abdomen- courtesy of your favorite redhead russian spy. sure, the injury throbbed and made you hesitate to fully breathe, but it got you out of sparring with anybody for the rest of the day, and for that, you were thankful.

you can hear crunching coming from the kitchen, and you can immediately tell it’s sam from the sound of his chewing- chewing the snack you stored for yourself and threatened murder if it was touched by anyone else but you. “sam!” you shriek, sitting up and instantly biting back a groan. you point an accusatory finger at him, and he doesn’t flinch, grinning up at you with faux innocence painted on his face.

Keep reading

keep coming back because these are just so cute </3

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

-

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

-

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

-

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

my two favourite words are now maybe later

Maybe Later- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, sam wilson, thor odinson Warnings: alcohol, bucky is drunk (ooc? Have we ever seen him drunk i watched all of his scenes lol) About: this quote thing. I dont know if i got what i was aiming for. (“marry me” “maybe later”

Three-oh-two glows red in pinched little lines on your alarm, blunt in the darkness of the room and sharp against the pale light the moon manages through margins between your curtains. The numbers are smudged in sleep as you blink awake from what was meant to be a short rest for your eyes, bent and refracted like you’re looking through a finger-smudged window. You could easily mistake it for a dream if your phone weren’t singing loudly from your bedside table.

With a groan, you slam a hand over it, the piercing noise insistent even with your fingers wrapped around its width. You squint against the brightness of the screen, sitting up when you recognize Sam’s contact name in bold white letters.

“Hello?” you greet tiredly, rolling your shoulders as your weariness begins to pass. The rivets of your jeans dig into your abdomen, your casual shirt proves itself not soft enough for sleep, and you pick at the shoulder. The blankets are creased and made beneath you.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Sam’s voice comes through rough and curved in a smile you can see through the phone. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You blink at the wall. “What?”

“A grumpy old man.”

“Which one?” An amused crackle smothers the delicate silence. “What happened to twelve? I tried to wait.”

“Someone had a little too much to drink.” There’s commotion from the other side of the line, a joyous yell and shattering. Sam groans loudly.

“Well, Asgardian liquor tends to stir something in our Avengers,” you mumble, scooting to the edge of your bed to squeeze on your shoes, squished and set next to you at the ready.

“You have no idea.” Sam mutters. Bucky’s voice suddenly comes through, distant and too distorted to make out specifics. “Incoming.”

“I have a little one,” you digress, lashes kissing at their edges in your search for the car keys that had been at your hip. 

“Hey, what the hell was that noise--” Sam begins, far away, before he’s abruptly cut off. “Hey--”

“Honey?” Bucky’s voice is loud enough that you wince and pull the speaker away from your ear, catching a glint from your bed. “S’that you?”

“Yeah, darling, it’s me,” you murmur, voice a little honeyed as you hook a finger through the car key ring peeking from behind a pillow.

“I miss you,” his words bump into each other, so heartfelt he can’t get them out fast enough with a heavy tongue. “Will y’come get me please?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t get into too much trouble,” you command gently, jaw against the soft flesh of your neck to keep your phone steady while you pull at your left shoe.

He makes a disgruntled noise. “F’course not.”

“Don’t drink any more, you’re going to have a killer hangover tomorrow as it is.” You step out of your room and make your way to the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor.

“That is not true. My tolerance is,” he hiccups and bursts into a startled laugh, “high. Way higher than Steve’s.”

“Is that true?” You chuckle, stepping out once the doors have parted. 

“Yeah,” Bucky affirms agreeably.

“Interesting. Can’t wait to see how Golden Boy is doing.”

“Not great, but at least he’s having fun,” Sam cuts in, Bucky’s indignance about it muffled over the phone. “He’s going to regret--Barnes, give me a second--he’s gonna regret ever touching the--Barnes, damn it--the stuff. You asshole, you have your own phone--”

There’s a click and then silence, where you’re left staring amusedly at a dimming screen with one foot ready to climb into your car. “Well then,” you mumble, shutting off the device before you set it neatly in the cupholder between the two front seats. After you’ve turned on the engine and begun to set off, you turn mournfully to the clean inside of your car and hope ceaselessly that it’ll stay that way.

You’re only a few minutes from Sam’s house when your phone rings out a familiar bouncy tune you’d had Bucky pick out for his identifying ringtone. It was sweet and melancholy all at the same time, and it had taken him ten seconds and a look at your beaming face for him to label it as his.

His voice is stretched out and mournful when you answer, your name replaced with a rare Baby?

“Hey, honey. Found your phone?”

He ignores you, breathing out a long sigh. “I miss you.”

“We just talked on the phone,” you laugh. “I haven’t even given you a chance to miss me yet.”

He seems to mull it over for a short moment, elongated in his hazy mind. “Are you on your way?”

“I’m almost there.”

“That’s good because I miss you.”

“Do you now?” you hum.

“Steve knows,” Bucky pillars.

“I bet he does,” you laugh. Bucky hums in confirmation. “How much have you had to drink?” you ask. “You even sound a little different.”

“I missed this,” Bucky muses drily. “I love Asgard.”

“You’re going to take that back tomorrow.” You turn and spot the name of Sam’s street. “But it’s okay because I’ll take care of you.”

What follows you don’t expect. Bucky breathes out loud, nearly doleful, coming out static on your end.

You frown. “Bucky? Is something wrong?”

“No,” he sulks, a complete lie.

You don’t bother pushing him when he’s more stubborn than usual and you’re only a voice on his phone. “If you say so. I’m almost there, okay? I’m going to hang up now.”

“Don’t hang up. I want to hear your voice.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” you catch sight of Sam’s house. “I hang up, and you’ll get a lot more than my voice in a minute. What do you think?”

There’s a petulant sigh on the receiver. “What about the wonders of technology?”

“What happened to ‘we did just fine in the forties’?”

He says your name long and pleading.

“You get very dramatic when you’re drunk, you know that? I’ll be with you before you know it.”

“No. No… c’mon, please, dove.”

“I’m pulling in!” you exclaim.

“I don’t see you.”

“That’s not surprising. Seeing through walls isn’t a super-solder ability as far as I know,” you tease, shutting off the engine and unbuckling yourself. You nestle your phone between the soft crook of your neck as you open the door.

You can see Bucky pout through the phone.

“I’m coming in. Stop gossipping about me to the guys, okay?” you goad, coming to a stop in front of the door. It’s only a glance at the doorbell before Sam, bare-chested, appears in the doorway, haloed by light and smoke from his house. You gape at him. “Why are you--”

“Get him out of my house.”

“I’m trying,” you muster, letting him usher you inside. The house is a mess, with Avengers strewn on the couches and cups everywhere.

“Get them all out of my house. Why did I volunteer to host?”

You shrug, shaking your head as you observe the mess.

Bucky says your name from the phone, reminding you that he’s still on the line, but you don’t need to answer once you spy him in a kitchen seat next to Steve, slumped next to him.

Bucky’s face is bothered, his voice echoed each time he says something. Once you’re a few steps behind him, you hang up and slip your phone into your pocket.

Bucky grunts, pulling a face as he stares at his phone, fingers already moving to your contact just when you position yourself close enough to feel the heat of him on your skin. It’s only a moment testament to his inebriation before he turns, furrowed brows softening when his eyes meet yours. His phone clatters to the table, forgotten.

He murmurs your name, kind and relieved in a melancholy shade. Vibranium fingers twine their way between yours.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I found you.”

“You found me,” he parrots softly, pulling you closer nearly on instinct.

Your free index reaches up to brush a stray strand of brown hair from his face, grazing the warm skin of his forehead, and he leans into it, his other hand going up to grab it too.

You can’t help your smile, dipping down to constellate kisses along his hairline. “Ready to go home?”

He hums his agreeance, watching you with honey eyes. When he moves closer to you, Steve’s elbow slides down the table. With a quick swoop, you remove a hand from Bucky’s hold to cradle Steve’s head before it can slam down onto the surface. You turn to Sam in bewilderment. He shrugs.

Carefully, you set him down on the table, awkwardly patting his hair. “Didn’t think Captain America would go down because of alcohol poisoning, but I guess it had to be something.”

Bucky pulls on the hand he’s still holding, bringing your attention back to him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, crouching to be able to see him better.

He grins dumbly, majorly soft. “You look pretty.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the pleased little swoop of your heart. “You look pretty too, you know that?”

“He knows,” Sam cuts in, near accusing toward you.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky mumbles.

Sam scowls. “In my own damn house.” He moves to Steve, draping him over himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, gotta lug all these idiots onto their sides.”

“Okay,” you laugh, “thank you, Sam.”

He grunts in reply, leaving you and Bucky alone. He’s already looking at you when you turn to him again.

“Do you need help getting up?” you ask. He shakes his head but you throw his arm over your shoulder anyway, pulling him to his feet. He’s heavy but at least somewhat steady with your help. “God, Buck.”

“”S all muscle.”

“I know,” you assure amusedly.

The walk only lasts a couple of seconds before Bucky begins to sway. You try your best to hold him up, but are forced to slump into a couch with him when the top of your left knee bumps into one. Instead of helping, Bucky clamps his fingers around your wrists when you move to get up. He’s staring again.

“What?”

“Y’came to pick me up,” he says, as if just realizing it. “All the way here.”

“Of course. I gotta get you home, baby.”

He grasps your hand. “Baby,” he repeats favorably.

You don’t usually call him that, and even in his drunken stupor, he realizes it.

“What’s the time?” he demands suddenly.

“Three? Four?” you assume, preoccupied with sitting up. He’s distracted enough to sit by as you stand, knees bumping into his. “Very late. Or, early, I suppose.”

He inhales deeply, staring up at you with his lovely eyes.

“What’s wrong?” you query immediately, voice dropping to a softer pitch.

“You came for me,” he echoes.

“I did,” you agree patiently. “Wanna stand up so we can get home?”

“I love you.” It’s the most sober he’s sounded.

“I love you too,” you assure, dipping down to hold his jaw between your fingers. A demuring thumb swipes across his cheek. “You know that.”

“I do,” he whispers.

You smile, squeezing him lovingly between your palms, nebulously elated that he knows he’s loved. “Up,” you murmur, pulling on him until he’s just above hovering over the couch.

“Marry me,” he blurts, as if it’s been on the tip of his tongue, words carved earnestly and permanently; overdue.

You smile at him, focused on bringing and keeping him on his feet. Once he is, you take small steps toward the door. “Maybe later.”

“Y’promise?” he’s your hazy eyes when you’re focused entirely on him, cupping the sharp point of a chair before you can bump into it. Clumsily, he pulls open the door, wanting to wait until you’re out first but you don’t let him.

“I do,” you respond as you guide him to your car, helping him crawl in and looping an index around his seatbelt. His fingers interrupt you before the buckle has grazed further than his chest. “Bucky?”

He extends his pinky and stares at you pointedly.

Complying, you curve your pinky around his.

He’s satisfied, letting you buckle him in and watching as you round the car to your seat.

“Thor should come more.”

“We’ll see,” you laugh, starting the engine.

He pulls at the arm nearest to him before you can begin driving, extending his fingers out expectantly. It’s familiar but strange to see from the driver’s perspective. Still, you obey.

“I’m hungry,” he declares, settling in as you drive. “Can we get pizza?”

“Maybe later.”

seungkwan is so cute sgdghygjfghgmjfgh

pairing: non-idol!seungkwan x gn!reader

prompt: 7.) “i trusted you”

word count: ~850

warnings: n/a!

daisy’s notes: did i see angst potential? yes. did i ignore it? yes <3

“it was just a prank, baby.”

seungkwan huffs when you say it, angrily slipping out of his shoes as he walks away from you. he’s been giving you the silent treatment for the entire bus ride back to your apartment, visibly miffed–pulling away from your hand when you reached for him, saying nothing when you tried to start conversation, the whole annoyed shebang you knew that he could get into. he says nothing to you now, making his way into the kitchen and opening the fridge just to avoid looking at you. in all honesty, you think it might be better to let him cool off and then try to broach the subject. that’s what someone smart would do.

but then again, if you were smart, maybe you would have said no when his friends asked you to help them pull a stupid prank on him. all you had to do was act as bait, and that had been why you said yes. plus it was always a little cute to see his reactions.

Keep reading

🥹

hot or cold?

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader

tropes: established relationship

genre: fluff!!

synopsis: when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…

noteworthy: mention of marriage, this is so cute i’m sick to my stomach, if you recognise this premise from reddit no u don’t

word count: 1.1k

“what do you mean you can’t find the confirmation?”

“it means that i can’t find the stupid confirmation,” mingyu grumbles, continuously (and furiously) typing away on his phone, frantically looking for the reservation confirmation mail from that super exclusive, fancy restaurant you’re supposed to eat at tomorrow.

well, you’re convinced it’s tomorrow, mingyu says it’s today. which is why he was so utterly flabbergasted when he came home, new shiny suit and all, wanting to pick you up.

only for you to greet him in sweatpants and one of his old shirts. and as much as he loves seeing you all comfy, he couldn’t help freaking out on you a little bit.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” his hands are on your shoulders, eyes boring into yours. you cock your head to the side a little, brows furrowed, “a shirt? your shirt, i guess? gyu, what is—“

mingyu takes your hand and rushes into the bedroom with you in tow, yanking open your closet and expertly picking out some of your more formal attire and throwing them on the bed. 

“okay, we can do this, absolutely no problem. you go and freshen up and i pick something for your to wear and then we’ll be out the door in less then ten minutes. sound good?” you blink at mingyu, his ramble only causing you more confusion.

walking over to him you take his hands, effectively ripping his attention away from the bundle of clothes he was sifting through on the bed. “babe, what the fuck is going on? are you okay?”

“am i okay? …are you okay? we’ve waited so long for this reservation, i’m not gonna let us miss it—“ he trails off while yanking his hands free from your hold, gently turning you and pushing you towards the bathroom, “go!”

“gyu, you are aware that the reservation is for tomorrow?” you let yourself be pushed into the bathroom, mingyu now staring at you, doubt evident in his eyes. “it’s today, y/n.”

“it’s tomorrow.”

“it’s today.”

which is what lead to mingyu frantically searching for the booking confirmation he got months ago, trying to figure out which of you was right - though you did start to freshen up just in case mingyu was actually right. just in case.

you let out an exasperated sigh and snatch mingyu’s phone out of his hands, “i love you, but let me look for a second,” you press a quick kiss to his jaw and start typing in the search bar of his mail app.

and there it was!

an order confirmation for a personalised engagement ring.

…a what?

both of you stare at his phone, utterly frozen. mingyu’s eyes drift from his phone screen to your face, trying to figure out if you’re seeing what he’s seeing. maybe you don’t? maybe—

god, who is he kidding.

he half expects you to freak out, to squeal and jump in his arms and pepper his face with kisses — though there also is that small part of him that’s nagging at his happy-go-lucky wishful thinking, insisting that he should be scared that you’re unhappy, that you think it’s too early, that you’ll distance yourself.

but nothing. you don’t look at him, you don’t say anything. you don’t even tap the e-mail to read it all in full.

you clear your throat and grin at mingyu triumphantly, “look! here it is, it’s tomorrow.” you point to the confirmation mail from the restaurant that just so happens to be right above the one for the ring.

“oh…,” mingyu drifts off and the two of you just stare at each other for a second. should you say anything? better not, you decide.

you can’t suppress a small giggle when you press a kiss to his cheek, “go get changed. i’m picking out a movie,” and with that you hand him back his phone, practically skipping back into the living room, leaving an utterly conflicted mingyu behind.

what now?

while you’re busy getting some snacks and drinks from the kitchen, mingyu takes his sweet time changing from his crisp suit into his pyjamas. his mind is racing, his hands are sweaty. should he stick to his plan to propose on your birthday? or should he do it tomorrow, after the dinner? what if you think that he changed his mind now that you know what he’s planning to do, if he doesn’t do it tomorrow? oh god, what if he waits too long and you think the ring is for someone else?!

you barely notice the somewhat tense look on his face when he joins you in the living room, you nuzzling up to him almost on instinct when he finds his place next to you on the couch.

he’s way too nervous to pick up on the hearts in your eyes when you look at him and you’re way too overjoyed to notice how tense he is.

for a while everything is fine, the two of you watching the movie though neither of you really absorb whatever is playing in front of you. you’re still snuggled into his side, fingers tracing little figured on his arm.

he sighs quietly and starts playing with your fingers, and the way he almost subconsciously starts to caress your ring finger makes you bite your lip to stifle the squeal that threatened to come out, opting to nuzzle into his neck to hide your face instead.

your adorable giggle against his neck is what finally makes him look down at you, lacing your fingers together, “what’s so funny?”

it’s a stupid question. you both know.

you can’t hide the dopey smile on your face and just shrug, head resting against his shoulder, “i don’t know.”

mingyu pulls you closer against him, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, “you know, baby.”now you’re both giggling, and if someone were to see you they’d probably think you’re insane.

you just can’t bottle it all up anymore so you let out a little squeal, almost crushing him in a tight hug, face hidden in his neck.

“…is it here? at home?” you whisper, biting your lip when he nods. “is it hidden?,” he nods again, wrapping his arms around you a little tighter. for second it’s quiet between you two, mingyu pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

“can we play the hot or cold game? until i find it?” and he almost curses when you finally look up at him; the excited sparkles in your eyes, the pure adoration they hold almost makes him crumble but he stays strong.

as cute as you are, he already has it all planned out. you just have to wait a little linger.

he chuckles, a hand coming up to cup your face, the warmest and softest look on his face and for a second you’re sure he’s gonna say yes.

“absolutely not, baby,” he mumbles, pulling your face in for a kiss.

it was worth a try, you guess.

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

summary: sirius accidentally apparates into your bed instead of his.

w/c: 3.5k

notes: mutual pining, sirius is so jealous of jily, a few swears, suggestive moments, remus likes crosswords, soft! sirius

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

sirius felt pathetic.

“i feel pathetic,” sirius whined, throwing himself on one of the potters’ cushy sofas. he buried his face in a decorative pillow and kicked his feet against the couch cushions.

“quit your little temper tantrum,” lily said, rolling her eyes. “it makes you look more pathetic.”

“which is shocking, because i didn’t think it could even get worse,” remus piped from his seat at the kitchen island, where he was doing yesterday’s daily prophet crossword.

“what’s a six-letter word and starts with an ‘s’ that could be similar to cowardly?” remus tapped his quill against his chin.

“scared?” said sirius.

“sirius?” said lily.

“hey, i’ll have you know that i am in fact a gryffindor, despite what my parents have to say about it!” sirius retorted, throwing his pillow at lily’s head blindly and missing.

“what the-” you were hit in the chest by a flying pillow as you wandered into the sitting room, looking for your friends. you identified sirius as the culprit. “are you serious?”

“why yes, i am!”

you rolled your eyes but with no real malice; instead, discarding the pillow to the side and flung yourself on top of sirius’ back with full force. he oomph’d at the sudden weight.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tucked your knees into his sides to pin him down. he protested meekly.

lily giggled as she watched sirius squirm under you as he pretended to be upset while you clung onto him triumphantly. sirius could’ve easily pushed you off, or even flipped you over, but he wasn’t going to complain about how close you were to him. no, sirius didn’t mind it one bit.

loud, thunderous footsteps could be heard bounding down the stairs as james made his presence known. euphemia trailed behind him, wary but amused.

“james, you can apparate now,” she chided. “why do you insist on causing such a ruckus every time you use the stairs?” 

“but muuuuum, last time i crashed into the clock and you were all upset. i’m just being cautious.” james smiled guiltily.

euphemia waved him off. “your friends combined make less noise than you do, james.” she sighed happily as she watched her mosh of children settle soundly into her home. remus was sleepily humming a muggle song, james had taken a seat by lily and was resting his head on her lap, while you and sirius continued to smother each other.

“remus, feel free to head upstairs anytime,” euphemia said sweetly. she looked towards your crowd. “and you all as well. there’s no rush, but it’s getting late and fleamont and i will be heading to bed soon.”

there was a chorus of thank yous as euphemia left, leaving the lot of you alone on the lower level. lily looked at you and quirked her head.

you nodded. “i think lily and i will start washing up as well; goodnight everyone!”

lily kissed james’ forehead. james’ blush was apparent even in the dimness of the evening.

sirius perked up as you slid off from his back with a laugh, hoping for a kiss too. the two of you were normally affectionate anyway, so it didn’t seem so demanding.

when you made no indication of giving sirius a goodnight kiss, he sat up and pouted theatrically. “what about me? can i have a kiss too?” he whined, pointing his chin at james, who looked smug.

you appraised sirius for a minute “hmm, let’s see. have you been a good boy today?” you tapped your chin like you were deep in thought.

sirius’ heart raced.

“i think so, yes,” you decided, stepping closer to the anxious boy. you pressed three fingers to your lips—it was better than nothing, sirius decided—and slapped him (gently!) across the face.

“there’s your kiss!” you grinned mischievously.

james and lily laughed, even earning a snort from remus, who was half-asleep already.

“hey, that wasn’t- you slapped me!” sirius stammered, feeling cheated. “look how nicely lily gave prongs his kiss! you conniving little minx!” sirius crossed his arms.

“ah, well lily and james are dating and we are very much not. you’ve got to be promoted to the boyfriend level to earn that kind of salary.”

lily nodded solemnly. “that’s true. and your resume must be strong, too. job offers can be very competitive these days, y’know? and your girl has a lot of applicants.” lily winked at you.

your girl, sirius thought. he liked that. “well, how can i apply?” sirius joked, looking up at you with raised brows.

you pinched his cheek endearingly. “oh sirius, you flirt. now goodnight, all.” lily took your hand and pulled you up the stairs, hushed whispers trailing behind you and the occasional giggle from lily. sirius sat on the couch, dazed.

“what in merlin’s name happened?” james hissed loudly. “what do you call that, pads?”

remus rubbed his eyes blearily and sat beside james. the two boys stared down sirius from their couch like they were courtroom judges and sirius was being interrogated. in a sense, he was.

“i- i don’t know! she just slapped me and then ignored what i said!” sirius exclaimed.

james shushed him. “you’re going to wake up the entire house!” 

remus sighed disappointedly. “are you two daft? she clearly thinks you’re flirting with her-”

“-i am!”

“-as a joke. you flirt with everyone, padfoot. coming from you, flirting is almost like… platonic behavior.”

“that literally makes no sense, you realize that, right?” sirius scoffed.

james hummed and shook his finger as he came to realization. “no, no. moony’s right-”

“-when am i ever not right?”

“-you flirt with all your friends. if you want to make it obvious you like her, you have to treat her differently. for you, that wouldn’t be flirting. it’d be more like…”

remus butted in. “domesticity, i think. little, genuine things that let her know you’ve been thinking of her. nothing too theatric; that’ll make her think you’re doing it jokingly too. you’ve got to be personal with her… vulnerable, even. yes, that’s it. you should be vulnerable. everybody knows loud, annoying padfoot-”

“-i am not annoying!”

“-but if you let her see you without all the exaggeration, she’ll know you really mean what you say.”

james and sirius looked at lupin, impressed. james shook his head like he was clearing his thoughts. “when did you become so wise, moony?”

remus smirked. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

--

sirius couldn’t sleep. well, he was restless most nights, often plagued with nightmares or a constant stream of thoughts, but tonight he was simultaneously battling james’ snoring and remus’ rolling and shuffling around.

sirius groaned quietly, draping an arm over his eyes. he needed a break. with a quick breath, he apparated himself into the potter’s kitchen and poured himself a cup of juice, sipping quietly as he leaned against the counter.

living at james’ house was like living on the moon. at home, sirius never got to decide when he wanted to sleep. he wasn’t allowed to brush his teeth with his friends and get foam all over the counter, or nibble on a secret stash of sweets at midnight, much less leave his room to raid the fridge.

when sirius finished his juice, he wrapped up his late night escapade with a quick scourgify and a quiet sigh. once again, he apparated upstairs to avoid the creaky staircase.

sirius had made a grave error.

“what the-” you sputtered for the second time that night. “sirius?”

sirius looked down at your sleeping figure. this time, he was the one sitting on top of your body, though he was considerably heavier than you were.

“lumos,” you whispered. “sirius, what the hell are you doing here?” you tried to sound scolding, but your voice came out slurred and bleary as you tried to blink yourself awake.

“i- i don’t know! i tried apparating back to-”

“shhh!” you furrowed your eyebrows, grabbing him by the neckline of his shirt and pulling him into bed beside you. “you’ll wake lily! thank godric she’s a deep sleeper.”

you huffed, pushing yourself upright. while the boys were crammed into james’ room, you and lily were sharing the guest bedroom which housed two larger twin sized beds. there was just enough space for sirius to move off your chest and to your side.

“i’m sorry, i went downstairs for a drink and i must’ve apparated to the wrong place or something-”

“clearly! how on earth did you manage that?”

“i don’t know! i’m tired, alright?” he punctuated his words with a big yawn.

“you know,” you began, a smug look growing on your face. “you have to envision where you want to go when you’re apparating. thinking of me in bed, are you now?”

sirius gulped, burning with nerves at your close proximity. “n-no! i mean, it’s not that i haven’t thought about- shit, i mean- uh, i can go now, if you want.”

you laughed breathily. “you’re good, siri.” you yawned. “maybe… maybe you should stay here for the night. i don’t want you to splinch yourself if you’re tired.”

sirius chewed his lower lip, admiring the side of your face as you fiddled with the edge of your blanket. he was wordless as he tried to steady his breathing.

you turned your head suddenly with wide eyes and met his. “you don’t have to, of course! i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, i just thought-”

“no- oh no, i mean, yes! yes, i’ll stay. i’d love- like to stay. i appreciate it,” he smiled, eyes flickering across your face. you hadn’t realized how close the two of you really were; you could easily kiss him bump heads if you leaned in. of he shuffled a bit closer to you and his thigh brushed yours. “sorry, the bed’s a little small.”

your mouth formed a little O as you scooted over as well, making more room for him. “i hadn’t realized—here, you can have some more space. you’re bigger anyway.”

the two of you awkwardly adjusted as sirius slipped under the covers. he punched the pillow a few times and cozied into a comfortable position. his body faced yours; his breath fanned over your skin.

“hey,” you whispered giddily.

“hi,” he echoed, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling too largely. sirius’ face seemed to melt into something soft—it was a vulnerability you’d never seen from him—as he gazed at you. he almost seemed to marvel at you.

“you’re so beautiful, y’know?” sirius murmured, brushing a few loose hair from your face. when he was finished, he didn’t pull his hand away. instead, he let it cup your cheek gently as he began to rub little semicircles into your skin with his thumbs.

“that means a lot, coming from the prettiest boy i know.” you placed your hand on top of his, hooking his thumb between yours to stop the movement. “my pretty boy, hm?”

your eyelids fluttered. sirius wasn’t sure if you were fully present; you looked half asleep. still, your words made his heart flutter, even though he knew he shouldn’t take them to heart.

“my best girl,” sirius cooed, slipping his hand out from under yours to wrap it around your shoulder instead. he pulled you closer to his chest and you eagerly obliged until the two of you were completely pressed together. you sighed in contentment.

sirius pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “g’night, lovely. i- i love you.”

you responded with a soft snore.

--

click! a bright flash and twinkling laughter made you open your eyes. you squinted at the harsh light—had somebody left the blinds open? you groaned, making a note for tonight.

you buried your head into your pillow, inhaling a deep breath of the potters’ laundry detergent. you knew the family was rich, but were they so rich that their detergent smelled this heavenly? they must’ve put some sort of spell on the bedding. it was rich; a little smokey, with notes of spice that reminded you of christmas cooking. you smiled to yourself, nuzzling closer. the potters were sweet to invest in something that’d make you feel welcome in their house. you’d never felt so at home.

click! another flash. a chuckle, but deeper and decidedly male. you hummed with annoyance at the interruptions.

your pillow was moving. did the potters enchant the pillows as well?

“dove?” sirius’ raspy morning voice mumbled into your ear. the vibrations tickled your skin and sent goosebumps running down your arms. 

“sirius?” you exclaimed. the ‘enchanted pillow’ was not a pillow at all, it seemed. it was your best friend longtime crush, whose body you’d been cuddling up to all night. well, shit.

“did y’get a good one?” james’ voice floated through the room.

“oi, shut up, prongs. ‘m trying to sleep,” sirius grumbled. he didn’t seem to care about the intimacy of your position. instead, he only tightened his hold on your waist and even brought his other arm to rest at the name of your neck, which allowed him to settle his chin on the crown of your head. you could hear—and feel—the steady thumping of his heart.

as you awoke, you became more aware (and more horrified) at how you’d fallen asleep. one of your legs was bent over his, and his hands were carded through the hairs at the nape of your neck.

“holy shit,” you muttered, pulling sirius’ hands off of you. “sirius, wake up. i think they’re taking pictures of us.” you looked up at james, lily, and remus. “-those little shits.”

“huh?” sirius jolted awake, his arm never leaving your waist. “what in merlin’s name-”

james snickered. “you two seem to have had a good night, eh?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“shuddup, prongs,” sirius retorted. “get your head out of the gutter.”

“sirius…” lily ribbed, pursing her lips in amusement.

any annoyance on sirius’ face vanished and was quickly replaced by pure terror. “oh fuck,” he grimaced, before throwing the sheets off his body and running awkwardly to the bathroom while adjusting his pants.

your face heated. lily came by your side, practically in stitches, and you squeaked in shock. james went jogging after sirius, yelling suggestive comments unabashedly.

“so, what was that?” remus probed, sitting on the corner of your bed where sirius had just been laying.

“he was wearing clothes, alright? stop- don’t make this weird,” you pleaded.

“we didn’t say anything about states of undress,” lily chided, looking triumphantly at remus, who sighed.

“what’s it to you, anyway?” you pushed yourself out of bed, fussing with your hair momentarily as you tried to tame your bedhead. “‘s none of your business.”

“oh, but it is. james owes me three galleons,” lily announced. “and remus is coughing up eight sickles.”

“you bet on me?”

“well, not on you, perse,” lily backtracked. “on you and sirius’ relationship. so technically, that’s not either of you. it’s a relationship. aaaanyways, remus thought you were going to get together before summer break, i guessed during the second day of staying here, and james guessed at the end of our stay. and i was right! well, i was a couple hours off. but i still win.”

you closed your eyes, unable to process the audacity of your friends. “you lot are cheeky assholes, y’know that?”

“oh, we know. but these ‘cheeky assholes’ have blackmail now,” lily smirked.

“or, photos and a good story for your wedding,” remus piped in. lily nodded her head eagerly.

“i didn’t take you for a romantic, lupin,” you mumbled, beginning to dig through your clothes and change out of your pajamas. “what time is it, anyway?”

“nine-thirty!” lily chirped, placing emphasis on each number. “we let you two sleep in. it was cute.”

“we aren’t cute.”

“aha! so there’s a ‘we’ now!” james cheered from the doorway. sirius had returned in his normal clothes, still looking a little flustered. you averted your eyes.

“‘m gonna change. goodbye, twats.” you shuffled down the hallway. as much as you pretended to be annoyed by your meddling friends’ antics, you smiled uncontrollably as you heard them interrogate sirius next, who did a much worse job of hiding his feelings.

feelings. were there feelings? and james’ question still stood. was there a ‘we?’

“i’m starving,” james whined, clutching his stomach dramatically. “if we keep pushing off breakfast, i’m going to be too weak for quidditch season next year.”

lily rolled her eyes. “you big baby. c’mon remus, let’s leave the toddler here and make something for ourselves.” lily linked her arm through remus’ and made a big show of trotting away, with james scrambling after them desperately.

when you came to the kitchen, your friends were still fighting playfully over lily’s taunts. “i am not a big baby!” james complained.

“you’re literally throwing a fit right now!” lily laughed, shoving him with her shoulder. you laughed alongside her as you watched james stumble.

sirius, though he’d always found james’ embarrassment to be funny, didn’t laugh. he was watching you, smiling hopelessly at the way your laugh seemed to pierce his senses more sharply than the brightness of the sun, noticing the way your body shook a little from the enthusiasm of your happiness, and staring longingly at your parted lips.

remus thwaked sirius in the back of the head with the most updated copy of the daily prophet. “stop staring like a fucking idiot and do something,” he hissed. sirius found himself pushed off his chair as remus slipped in with a pencil in hand, already immersed in his crossword.

“siri, y’alright?” you giggled, noticing sirius’ unusual quietness and the odd, hazy look in his eyes.

“yeah! ‘m all good.” sirius startling slightly. “thanks, dove.”

sirius made his way beside you and again, wrapped his arm around your waist. you shivered. “are you cold?” sirius asked.

“ah- no. you’re just- you make me nervous,” you said hesitantly. 

sirius’ words were slow, calculated. “in a good way or bad way?” he looked down at you and raised his eyebrows questioningly. he bent down and lowered his voice. “‘cos i’m really hoping it’s a ‘sirius black, you give me butterflies and i’m madly in love with your charisma, luscious hair, and gorgeous face,’ type’a way.”

“ugh,” you groaned, pushing against his chest playfully as your face burned. sirius only strengthened his hold on you. “you wish, black,” you sniffed, tipping your chin up at him haughtily. but then your teasing smile dropped into something intense and genuine. you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. 

so, sirius did the speaking for you. cupping your pointed chin in a delicate hand, sirius lowered his head until his lips brushed over yours—just barely. he smilled, his breath warming the planes of your face as he held himself still.

pulling sirius closer down to you by the fabric of his shirt, you dusted your lips across his for a fleeting moment. you pulled away almost immediately, panicking at what you’d just done. sirius shook his head, amused, and pulled you in once more, pressing his lips against yours firmly and holding you there, supported and assured, until you melted comfortably into his mouth.

“siri…” you gasped, pulling away. “oh my merlin, sirius?” you called, chewing your kiss-swollen lip as you watched sirius sway hazily in his spot. he was muttering silent words.

“pads!” james hollered. “way to go, padfoot!” he slammed his hand into the back of sirius’ head.

“ow, what the fuck, mate?” sirius rubbed the spot that james had attacked.

“you dog!” lily shrieked, running around the counter to throw herself at you and wrangle you around excitedly. it seemed that your friends were more passionate about the kiss than you two were.

well, that wasn’t true. the two of you were a bit too dizzy to appreciate the excitement of it all.

from remus’ position at the stove, two eggs came magically whizzing through the air and cracked themselves on top of james and lily’s heads.

“moony! what the hell was that for?” lily sputtered.

“i just did a hair mask last night!” james complained.

remus rolled his eyes, nonchalantly waving his wand over the pan of scrambled eggs he was cooking. “leave the two of ‘em be. i’m sure you’ll have plenty of moments to see them snogging in the future.” remus turned towards the two of you, looking bashful. sirius had given you his hand to hold and you were fiddling with his fingers. he looked very pleased.

remus sighed exasperatedly, before turning back to his eggs. “now you two get out! you’re killing my appetite.”

you and sirius looked at each other, and with bright, childish giggles, you ran out of the kitchen with sirius on your heels. remus huffed grumpily, waving his wand again to scramble the eggs, but unbeknownst to his friends, he cracked a satisfied smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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The One

Jake Peralta x Reader - A whole year with Jake Peralta, from start to finish [1.9K Words]

Summer had made its way to New York City. The Saturday morning brought a certain busyness into the city. With the warming weather, Brooklyn is filled with friends meeting each other for brunch and tourists enjoying their vacation time at the park. You should be among them, your stomach yearning for a croissant from your favourite bakery and a cup of something other than stale coffee. But alas when your friend Terry Jeffords calls in for a favour, you answer.

You stepped into the unfamiliar precinct; the upper floor filled with detectives despite the sunny weekend. You were immediately greeted by Jeffords who was already making his way towards you with a latte and pastry baggy. You sighed in contentment graciously taking the treats in your hands and a bite of the fluffy bread.

“Thank you for coming in on your weekend off, our precinct sketch artist is out sick and one of my detectives really needs help.” The sergeant explained, quickly bringing you towards a detective desk. “This is Detective Jake Peralta; he has a witness coming in an hour for the 17th Street bank robbery. I offered my talents but, the last time that happened, it didn’t turn out so well.” There was a knowing look exchanged between the detective and sergeant.

Keep reading

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.”