#three days later you're told you've arrived | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— promise ring ⟢

no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

★ FEATURING; chan x reader (ft. joshua x reader)

★ WORD COUNT; 21k words

★ TAGS; fantasy, royalty, childhood friends, mutual pining, love triangle, LOTS of drama, jeonghan being a menace, slow burn, angst, smut

★ NOTES; full disclosure that the plot to porn ratio is probably 80:20 so if you're simply looking for filth, i might not recommend this,,, but if you're down for 20k words of slow burn childhood friends to lovers topped with a juicy love triangle with our best boy chan, then this should be perfect for you <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, lots of making out, unprotected sex, touch starved chan and reader, first time, body worship, dom/sub undertones, lots of loving n endearing language during the act bc they've pined for each other long Enough, corruption kink if you squint but chan doesn't rly act on it

★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv

When you wake up, it’s to a strange feeling that something big is going to happen today.

You open your eyes to radiant sunlight filtering into the room through a crack in the curtains. The songbirds chirp happily by the windowsill as the rest of the town prepares to meet the day head-on. You lie in bed for a few minutes more, wondering what’s causing your chest to stir with misplaced anticipation. None of the annual festivals are drawing near and you’re certain you haven’t forgotten anyone’s birthdays either.

The sensation carries over as you head to the Academy with your father. Being from the family who founded the school several decades ago, he makes it a point to uphold the legacy your ancestors have left behind. That includes being at the school grounds an hour before any of the formal magic classes are scheduled to start, apparently.

Some students arrive much earlier than both of you, practicing spells and incantations in the small quadrangle as a means of preparing for their assessments later in the day. You giggle to yourself when you spot one of the older mages—a water elemental named Seungmin—fumble with his technique a little.

Whether intentionally or not, his friend, Changbin takes the brunt of it—his robes rendered sopping wet from the water that Seungmin had (accidentally?) blasted him with. Though it doesn’t take much to undo the damage since Changbin is easily one of the best fire elementals in the Academy. With one snap of his fingers, his clothes are instantly dry.

There are times (like this) when you envy the versatility of fire magic. But your father once told you that the gods grant each person with their respective elements for a reason. Instead of questioning their grace, you must show your gratitude by mastering what you've been blessed with instead.

Yours comes in the form of nurturing all the plants and flora you set your eyes on. It’s for this reason that you still bother to come to the Academy even if you’ve already completed its scholastic program over three years ago.

Despite your father constantly insisting for you to find a job that suits your talents in the royal capital, you prefer to impart your magical knowledge to the other students in your hometown instead.

In fact, you don’t miss the wistful look in his eyes as you part ways for the day—him to the headmaster's office and you to the greenhouse at the edge of campus.

As you direct yourself to your destination, that feeling from earlier is yet to subside. Though much more muted now that you’re surrounded by fellow mages both students and faculty alike, it still remains. Quiet yet foreboding, as if telling you not to let your guard down just yet.

So lost in your own thoughts, you startle at the sound of someone calling your name in the distance.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” One of the junior mages, Chaewon groans before bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “He’s done it again!”

A worried smile stretches across your lips. Life in your hometown is but a cycle of doing the same things over and over everyday. You don’t particularly mind the monotone of your routine—you’re at peace with it, honestly—but if Lee Jung Chan keeps accidentally burning someone’s precious plants, you’re going to have to make a few changes.

Chaewon leads you to the crime scene swiftly, explaining how your best friend set fire to the monsteras she personally grew from little seedlings with an irritated pout. While you’re completely sympathetic to Chaewon's plight—being her mentor and all—you can’t help the soft laugh that bubbles in your chest at the story.

“Why are you laughing?” she whines. “You’re not gonna let him get away with it just ‘cause you’ve been friends since you were babies, right? I worked so hard to enchant those plants with exotic flowers!”

The two of you arrive before you can issue an apology on Chan’s behalf. Not that your best friend wouldn’t have already expressed his remorse directly to Chaewon the moment the monsteras caught his flames.

You can easily spot the repentance in his posture as Chan stands awkwardly outside the greenhouse. From the looks of it, he’s currently being lectured by a school instructor who’s also named Chan, though most of the students and staff call him Chris for easier identification.

You’re certain that Chris has it all under control. Though you’re not sure how, since he’s a non-elemental mage. You can’t exactly see him putting out a fire with musical magic no matter how good he is, but you’re grateful for his intervention still.

“I know you only wanted to help out, but Chaewon isn’t the headmaster’s daughter. She’s yet to learn how to properly foolproof her handiwork against clumsy fire elementals.” Chris sighs deeply, arms crossed with a serious look before his eyes catch yours from the distance. “Speak of the devil…”

One would expect Chan to be mortified at the sight of you. After all, he did just inadvertently fuck up Chaewon’s project for her elemental assessment this month. As her mentor, you have all the right to rain hell on earth in the name of your precious student, but the thing about you is that you can never get mad at Lee Jung Chan—no matter how badly he messes up sometimes.

“Hi,” he squeaks with a small wave. “I swear I was just watering Chaewon’s plants ‘cause they were looking kind of…dry. I do it for you all the time right? But then a cat snuck inside the greenhouse and knocked over a bunch of pots from the high shelves. It scared the living daylights out of me and—”

“Chan, have you at least apologized to her?” you sigh, patting your student’s head while she shoots Chan a hard glare from where she’s hiding behind you.

“O-Of course!” he stammers, hands flying everywhere in an attempt to express his damage control better. “I even asked Chris where I can get seeds so I can replace them for her! You know I never leave any debts unpaid.”

It’s difficult to keep your mask of professionalism in place when he’s being so unintentionally adorable. Right now, you’re one of the Academy’s respected alumni as well as an instructor that many students look up to. You wouldn’t make the mistake of fawning over your best friend while he explains his not-so-innocence, but that doesn’t mean it makes keeping up appearances any easier for you .

“I told him that BamBam sells everything under the sun at his shop in the next town over,” Chris informs you with a tight-lipped smile. “Though Chan might have to be careful when talking to that guy. He’s a bit…”

“Eccentric?” you supply.

“Exactly.”

“Can he do that now?” Chaewon huffs impatiently. “I was meaning to start another experiment after I made sure this one didn’t fall through, but I guess I’m back to square one.”

You flash your student a placating stare, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Hey, your next assessment isn’t until the end of the month, right? You don’t have to rush. Besides, I’ve been thinking about teaching you how to brew your own instant growth potion.”

The enticing promise of a new technique visibly piques Chaewon’s interest. She gasps, taking your hands in hers before letting out a loud shriek. “Really?! You’re really going to teach me that? You know there are no take-backs once you say it, right?”

“Yes, I know.” You chuckle. “Now go head off to class. You have Chris here for first period, right?”

Your student groans. “Yeah… I still don’t know why I took musical theory as an elective.”

“You talk like I’m the worst instructor among the school faculty,” Chris huffs before walking back to the path leading to the main building. “Come on, Chaewon. You’ll be late.”

“How can I be late if I’m with you, though?”

“If you don’t stop being smart with me, I’ll tell BamBam to switch your monstera seeds with venus flytraps.”

As the two of them bicker all the way to the entrance, you’re left alone with your troublemaking best friend. Chan still has his shoulders set as if the guilt from his earlier actions is still fresh in his heart. You sigh, gesturing for him to follow you into the greenhouse before stepping inside the enclosure.

Out of all the projects you’ve dedicated to mastering your elemental magic, the Academy’s greenhouse is by far your most renowned feat. It started as a pipe dream during your first year of attendance and in your final year, you managed to convince the board of elder mages to build the greenhouse with the help of your father.

Of course, since he’s a royal mage—the town’s representative in the courts of the royal capital—you won’t deny that he might’ve pulled a few strings here and there to make your dreams a reality.

(If you can recall correctly, you once heard Chaewon’s friend, Yunjin jokingly whisper something about nepotism during one of the on-field classes you held.)

But whatever the means, the greenhouse proved to be an effective medium for magic of varying affinities. Both elemental and non-elemental mages often stop by to test their ideas about innovative applications of their powers.

Some water mages have tested if plants can purify contaminated samples from the upstream river. A spatial mage once tried to clone a bonsai tree by multiplying their cells in an exact mirror image.

And your best friend often tests the limits of what he can and can’t do around all the flora—given his magical constitution.

“So I’m guessing you already forgive me?” Chan asks with a sheepish smile on his face. “I promise I’ll just help out somewhere else when you’re not around. Baekho’s been inviting me to the magical combat wing a lot these days, but I need to think about it first ‘cause…you know.”

You do know. And out of every single person who knows Lee Jung Chan, you like to think that you understand his predicament better than anyone else.

Both of you started studying at the Academy at the same time, but you’re the only one who got to graduate after senior year. This made Chan ineligible for any sort of teaching position, since official employment required being an alumnus of any recognized magic school in the realm. The most he can be offered is a spot as a teaching aide and none else.

You’re well aware that because of that smudge on his track record, coupled with his clumsy tendencies, people often assume that Chan is a failure of a mage. A fire elemental who has no idea how to wield his own flames.

But what they don’t know is that in terms of raw power alone, even your father agrees that Chan surpasses every single student that’s ever had the pleasure to graduate from this school. The reason he can’t control his own flames is because of how potent they are. How powerful and all-consuming they can be if kept unchecked.

Your father once offered to bring him to one of his friends in the southern cities—someone who can help Chan tame his powers in ways he failed to guide him to. But your best friend declined, insisting that someone who can’t control their own flames doesn’t deserve the time and hospitality of anyone outside your hometown.

To this day, you still haven’t forgotten the resignation in his voice as he said the words. Like he’s so certain that all he deserves is to be some aberration kept in the shadows. You’ve always hated it whenever he sells himself short, but it’s not as if you can do anything about it if he’s so complacent with where he is now.

“Hey? You’re spacing out on me all of a sudden.”

You blink, nonplussed by Chan’s voice despite the fact that you’ve been standing with him inside the greenhouse for over five minutes. He’s posed a respectable distance away from any of the potted plants and flowers in the vicinity—standing so still, you almost find it funny.

“What made you drop by so early in the morning anyways?” you ask in an attempt at small talk. Your first class of the day doesn’t start until an hour, so you can afford to squander some time. “Don’t you usually get out of bed at noon?”

“Hey, I get out of bed at eleven!” He insists as if that’s any better. “But anyways, the reason I showed up so early is because someone made a wrong delivery to my house. Ma was so surprised to see a huge crate at our doorstep, but she was even more surprised to see it was addressed to you.”

…A delivery? For you?

“What do you mean?” you wonder, head craned with confusion. “What was inside? Did it say who it was from?”

Chan shakes his head before pointing at the far end of the greenhouse. There, you see the massive wooden crate he must be talking about. “A bunch of flowers in a plant box with no return address. Maybe it’s one of those scholars from the capital who want you to study them again? You did work on a research project about hydrangeas last month right?”

Strange flower delivery aside, you gape at him—heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he says easily. “Now are you going to check out the crate so you can tell me what those flowers are or are we gonna stand in the middle of all these highly flammable plants all day?”

You don’t even bother asking how Chan managed to transfer such a huge thing from his house to the greenhouse. He must’ve asked help from Mingyu, another instructor’s aide who does a lot of heavy lifting around the school. Or maybe he even roped Baekho into this whole thing.

Either way, as soon as you open the mystery package, it’s as Chan described it: a plant box brimming with an assortment of flowers arranged in a way only professionals can put together. All the vibrant blooms are expertly placed so that one wouldn’t outshine the other and whoever sent this, they’ve certainly earned your approval.

“So which is which?” Chan wonders as he peeps inside the crate again.

“Well,” you start, hands tracing each flower delicately. “This one is called a primrose, the dark pink ones are chrysanthemums, while the dantier flowers are carnations.”

As you explain how different they are from the other, it’s hard to miss how Chan struggles to keep himself from reaching into the crate to touch them. You feel kind of bad, but you know he’s only holding himself back because he doesn’t want to unintentionally start another fire.

“What do they mean? In the language of flowers?” he wonders. “You always go on and on about how each one has its own special meaning. What about these guys?”

You ponder on it for a moment, actively recalling what you’ve been taught. “Hm. Primroses usually represent youth and optimism. Chrysanthemums are for friendship, and carnations…”

When its meaning flits to the forefront of your mind, your eyes widen as an abrupt realization hits you in the next moment. Your gaze drifts back to the flowers as Chan patiently waits for you to continue, and that’s when you notice something strange inside.

Tucked in the middle of the assortment of lush flowers is a small envelope that wasn’t there before. The flap is enclosed with a familiar wax seal: the royal family’s crest.

You’ve seen your father open enough letters from them to recognize the sigil pressed into the bright red wax, but you’ve never once received one for yourself.

“Carnations signify fascination. Love,” you continue, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But I’m sure whoever sent these doesn’t know all that. They could’ve just picked these out because they’re pretty to look at together.”

Chan looks unconvinced. “Why don’t you open the envelope? I’m just guessing here, but maybe it was made to respond to your magic specifically? It would explain why it didn’t appear when I first checked the flowers out.”

For all his foolishness, he might actually be on to something this time.

But instead of brimming curiosity, that bothersome sensation from earlier surfaces again. It cloys in your chest, stirring your heart with trepidation before sinking like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

Your hands go clammy as you inspect the envelope as if it’s hiding a beast so it could swallow you whole. The royal family hasn’t given you any reason to even be remotely wary of them, but your reluctance refuses to waver.

In the end, you choose to brush it off, picking at the seal until it detaches from the envelope. When you take out what’s inside, the familiar scent of rich red roses laces the fine parchment.

It’s fairly easy to figure out who the sender is after that.

The greenhouse falls silent as you read through the letter’s contents. You’re acutely aware of Chan’s equally engrossed stare, but with each passing second, you grow more and more cognizant of the fact that this is definitely the reason why you awoke so keyed up first thing in the morning.

“Prince Joshua, huh?” He whispers somewhat disbelievingly before turning to you with curious eyes. “I figured you were friends since your father brings you along to the royal balls so often. Didn’t think he was this into you though.”

You didn’t either. You can hardly call the prince who’s second in line to the throne your friend, much more, a romantic prospect. Sure, Joshua is always hospitable whenever he catches you nursing a drink in the ballroom before asking for a dance, but you never would’ve imagined he harbored those kinds of feelings for you.

What’s more is, though you came from a highly regarded lineage of mages, there isn’t a drop of royal blood in your veins. But here he is, asking you to be his fiancée all while giving you the prettiest flowers you’ve ever received.

“Do you think it could be a mistake?” you mumble, reading over the letter once more to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

Chan rolls his eyes. “Look, that’s clearly your name he mentioned at the top. And don’t you think that someone as important as Prince Joshua will be more careful about sending out gestures of grandeur? He can’t just give any beautiful girl flowers, you know.”

His words shouldn’t faze you as much as they do. It’s always been easy for Chan to compliment people when the chance arises and he’s called you beautiful dozens of times before. Sometimes teasingly, more often genuinely.

It’s so strange. The most sought-after man in the kingdom just asked for your hand in marriage, but here you are—heart doing somersaults all because of your best friend’s easy admission.

Oh, heavens, you muse to yourself as Chan goes off on a tangent about how you’re mandated to get him front row seats to the wedding.

This is going to be difficult.

“That’s good news!”

When you dragged Chan to your father’s office once all your classes for the day were finished, you expected him to at least mull over Joshua’s abrupt proposal a little longer. It’s not that he was strict about the men you let in your life, but he looks much too elated for someone whose daughter is on the brink of being married off to someone else.

Well. When that ‘someone else’ is Prince Joshua, you think the proposal holds more weight than it otherwise would with any other commoner.

“But I don’t understand,” you tell him, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Why does Prince Joshua want to marry me all of a sudden? He hasn’t expressed any sort of romantic interest in me before, so why…?”

Your father chuckles from behind his desk, one finger guiding the drink from his glass with magic so he can spin it around in circles. Water elementals can be so strange at times.

“If I told you the prince has felt the way he claims in his letter for a good few years now, would it help you consider the proposal better?” he asks before putting the stream of wine he’s playing with back to its proper place.

“Wait a moment,” Chan pipes up from his seat. “Are you saying he’s been in love with her for a long time now?”

“Well, I’m not sure of the specifics, but the prince informed me of his affections a few months ago to seek my approval,” your father explains before leaning back into his seat to cast you a fond stare. “But I told him that regardless of what I think about the whole ordeal, the final decision isn’t up to me at all.”

The weight of their stares suddenly falls on your form.

You swallow thickly, having known all this time that your father wouldn’t possibly push you to go through with the proposal despite how happy it made him. It’s not that you don’t think Joshua is suitable to be your husband, but…

“Isn’t he taking things a bit too fast?” you ask dryly. “He could at least court me first—”

“My sweet girl, you know the way things work at the castle are much different from how they are in this small town of ours,” your father sighs. “You’ve heard about the royal assimilation period, yes?”

You have. It’s a sort of probationary period imposed on non-royals who wish to marry into the family. You know of a few acquaintances who had to spend a full year in the castles of other kingdoms without setting foot outside the premises during its entirety. At the time, you found the idea of isolation dreadful and that you can’t ever see yourself being in their place.

Now here you are, at the brink of being tied down to a prince you barely even know.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend a chunk of your day thinking about the pros and cons of marrying into the royal family. Becoming princess consort means you’ll be given a voice in the political court of the castle. Though your father does just fine in representing your hometown as its royal mage, being part of the regency itself grants you more authority over the decisions being made for the kingdom’s sake.

The thought of being able to improve the quality of life in your hometown as well as bringing more adequate funds for the Academy makes the offer all sorts of tempting. This is the place that made you who you are today, and you’d want nothing more than to give back however you can.

Plus, the thought of being married to Prince Joshua isn’t as daunting as it was when you found his letter hidden between the flowers he’d given. Since you had the whole work day to think about it, you managed to get over the initial dread and actually consider how having him as a partner would be.

His reputation as the kingdom’s most esteemed gentleman precedes him even in other places. It was once a popular opinion that Joshua would marry and settle down much sooner than his older brother, Jeonghan simply because of how adored he is among the people. Yet he’s already halfway through his twenties without any prospective partners.

Until now.

“I think you should accept his proposal.”

It shocks you that Chan is the one who tells you that. You stare at him with glaring disbelief while your father merely raises an eyebrow with mild interest before his lips break into a grin. “See? Even Chan over here agrees. I know it’s a bit much to suddenly become the fiancée of someone so important, but you’ll get to know each other better during the assimilation period anyways.”

Chan nods in agreement. “Besides, we can still visit you every now and again, right?”

The smile on your father’s face falls. “Oh, about that… Prospective royals aren’t allowed to entertain visitors that aren’t immediate family until the assimilation period concludes. But you can send letters if you end up missing each other too much.”

Your father says the words in such a light-hearted manner, you’re sure he didn’t say them in jest. He knows how close you and Chan have been since childhood; knows how important he is to you. If you accept Joshua’s proposal and whisk yourself off to the castle, it would be the longest you’ve gone without seeing your best friend in your entire life.

With Chan added to the equation, you realize that it’s not your level of familiarity with Joshua that makes you so reluctant to go through with it, nor is it the idea of being isolated from the outside for an entire year.

It’s the fact that you won’t be able to meet Chan for its entirety.

“Well, it’s not like it’s something you have to decide on right away,” your father interjects when he senses that the atmosphere has dipped. “I’ll keep in touch with the prince about the whole thing, but I’m sure he’d like you to take your time anyways. This is a lifelong commitment we’re talking about after all.”

This is ridiculous. Well, not as ridiculous when you remember you’re now of marriageable age and the prince has been harboring feelings for you for longer than you thought.

Still…

When you look at Chan, you half-expect him to at least comment on your father’s words, but he merely grins as if he’s completely on board with the idea.

Yet you can’t help but notice how that smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You end up accepting Joshua’s proposal a week later.

From what you could tell when he responded to your letter, the prince was ecstatic. He went into great detail about how he promises to make the entire assimilation process comfortable for you and that he can’t wait to have you at the castle. What makes the entire exchange all the more endearing is the fact that he’s genuinely apologetic about the abruptness of his proposal and that he honestly didn’t expect for you to agree.

You didn’t either.

If Joshua was ecstatic, your father was over the moon. When you informed him that you’re exchanging correspondences with the prince about the entire arrangement, he was quick to put together a farewell party when the final date of your assimilation period has been set in stone.

In other words, the past month was extremely busy for you. It consisted of several back and forth trips to the royal capital so you and Joshua could get all the paperwork involved done together. He’s just as sweet and accommodating as you remember—making the whole process less intimidating than it’s supposed to be. The more time you spend with the prince and soon-to-be-fiance, the less nervous you are for what’s to come.

The anxiety finally wears off by the time your farewell party comes around. Your father made sure to invite close friends and family as well as a few of his students and yours. Chaewon was in tears at the news that another mentor is going to be assigned for her because of the circumstances, but you promised to keep in touch when you come back.

Although once you’ve had your final conversations with most of your guests, you start to feel how wary you are from interacting with so many people at once. Eyes scanning through the small venue your father rented for the occasion, you attempt to look for a single person—a pout tugging at your lips when you can’t find him amidst the crowd.

No one knows Lee Jung Chan better than you do, so you’re right on the money when you venture out to the nearby river—immediately spotting him sitting alone by the banks.

You can only guess how many stones he’s already skipped across the stream, but Chan doesn’t even flinch as you settle down beside him, pulling your legs to your chest so you can rest your chin on your knees.

“You haven’t come here in a while,” you murmur quietly. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm.” His eyes are pulled straight forward as if still lost in thought. You sigh before opting to stew in the sound of the flowing river—gazing at the slowly setting sun in the far horizon.

It hits you at that moment just how much you’ll miss him. Quiet afternoons with your best friend have become few and far in between ever since you started teaching at the Academy. Now that you’re Joshua’s fiancée, you don’t even know if you’ll ever get to watch sunsets with him like this again. The thought fills you with that same sinking feeling that you only learned to overlook recently and it must show on your face because Chan is quick to turn to you with a curious look on his face.

“You nervous?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Then why do you look so…”

“So?”

“I don’t know…that.”

“You have to be specific, Chan.”

He huffs, taking another stone from a pile he collected at his side before skipping it across the water. “Well, you look like the way you did before your first magical assessment. Remember when the headmaster called me to sleep over because you were practically shaking with anxiety? Even if you’re literally from the best sorcerer family in the city?”

“Hey! Just because my father is good at everything doesn’t mean I am too!”

“But you don’t have to be good at everything.” Chan smiles and you’re unprepared for how your heart lurches at how breathtaking he looks. “You just have to be yourself.”

A pause hovers in the midst of the conversation and you can feel the heat starting to creep up your cheeks. If your best friend notices, he doesn’t let you know.

“I remember that you aced that assessment. Scored highest in our entire year too,” he recalls with a hint of fondness. “I think you’ll do just fine in that assimilation period. Wait, no. I know you will.”

You’ve always admired how easy it is for Chan to uplift others, despite the harsh words some people have used to put him down countless times. It’s like he soaks up the negativity in his life and lets it all out in a more productive manner.

The steady flowing stream rings in your ears as the silence sets yet again, heart threatening to beat out of your ribcage as you drink in the sight of your best friend. Rays of muted sunlight filter through the trees onto his face and it makes the kind grin on his face glow even brighter.

Chan lets out a choked up sound when you immediately pull him in for a hug. He’s speechless for a couple of seconds—wondering what on earth got into you. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh and returns your embrace with twice as much affection.

“Sounds to me like you’re perfectly okay with marrying off your best friend to some guy,” you murmur jokingly, breathing in his scent like it’s your last. Burnt sugar and just a hint of musk.

He laughs and the sound vibrates across your skin. “Prince Joshua is not some guy. And why wouldn’t I be happy that you’ll be married to such a great person? He can give you everything, you know? Even if I used to give all the dudes who got close to you back then a lot of shit, I know the prince will make you happy.”

Happy…

That’s something you haven’t really considered ever since you and Joshua started making the preparations for your assimilation. He’s a good prince who values his people over his own interests and he’s also a gentleman that always considers your input in every step.

But not once did it ever occur to you that marrying him would equate to your own happiness.

The thought fills you with shame—especially knowing how much Joshua has done for you for the past month. You tell yourself that maybe it’s because you still don’t know him that well; that you just need a little more time before you can think of him as a person who can make you genuinely happy and not just someone who you have to marry for the sake of your town.

If there is someone who makes you feel that way without breaking a sweat, however…

Chan shoots you a puzzled look when you break away, rising back to your feet all while tugging at his arm. Still, he lets you pull him up—a determined look settling across your features.

“Follow me.”

During weekends, the Academy only grants entry to both students and faculty until mid-noon. But luckily for you, you’ve spent years sneaking into the greenhouse when you were still carefully cultivating all the plants you have on display.

Chan voices out his concern when you bring him inside, muttering something about trespassing on school territory but he tails you from behind anyway.

The plant box full of dazzling flowers he brought a month ago isn’t here anymore—having been planted safely in the garden of your house. In its place is a brand new shipment of flowers you ordered from BamBam about two weeks ago.

Chan hasn’t seen them yet since he’s made it a point to avoid the greenhouse while Chaewon is in the middle of her experiments. But the curiosity in his eyes shines when you show them to him.

“These are called forget-me-nots,” you say, a warm smile tugging at your lips. “They aren’t that rare, but…they’ve always been my favorite. The first time I saw them was in a forest near the southern cities, where Father taught me the names of all kinds of trees and flowers.”

Chan nods with an expression that tells you he doesn’t quite get it, but is happy for you nonetheless. You stifle a laugh and his face immediately reddens as he clears his throat. “Um, why’d you ask BamBam for these though? They look kind of…simple compared to everything else you already have here.”

“It’s because they’re so simple that they stood out to me, silly,” you chuckle. “That forest was teeming with the most exotic plant life I’ve seen. Flowers of all shapes and colors, trees that grew up to the clouds… Even in such an abundant forest, simple flowers like these grew unassumingly by the side—still thriving despite being considered inferior.”

When you stare at Chan, you realize how much these flowers remind you of him. And it’s for that reason that you’re about to ask him a huge favor.

“Can you take care of them for me while I’m gone?” you whisper—voice carrying a hopeful tone. “I know it’s a tall request but—”

“Are you kidding? Nothing’s ever a tall request from you.” He huffs. “Of course I’ll do it.”

Your mouth hangs slightly agape—not expecting Chan to agree to it so easily. It takes you a moment to pick up your train of thought, but when you do, you break into an even wider grin.

“Really? Notorious plant-killer Lee Jung Chan is agreeing to take care of a bunch of flowers for an entire year?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked, so why are you suddenly questioning my credibility?” The pout on his face just makes you want to tease him even more. “I’m probably going to end up burning a few of them by accident, but I won’t be seeing you for a long time. This is the least I can do while I wait for you to come back, right?”

You are going to miss him so much, it makes your heart hurt.

Unlike earlier, Chan immediately reciprocates the hug you pull him into. You bury your face in the crook of your neck, ingraining the scent of him in your mind so that you’ll never forget your best friend even if you tried.

“I’ll come back for them in the spring,” you whisper.

Chan hums, his thumb tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades. “Is that a promise?”

It feels like forever before you break away from him, but when you do, the desolate feeling you got from the thought of being apart from him goes up in smoke. Chan raises an eyebrow when you reach into the plant box to pluck two forget-me-nots from the soil—enchanting the blooms with your magic so the stems could morph into rings.

One for you and one for Chan.

“It’s a promise.”

“Miss, you’ve got a letter again.”

You’re in the middle of reading up on a compilation of the kingdom’s annual state of affairs when your handmaiden, Sakura, finds you in the castle gardens. She gathers her skirts with one hand while the other carries an unassuming envelope. It’s routine at this point.

“Thank you, Kkura,” you murmur before flashing her a warm smile. “Has Prince Joshua returned yet?”

She shakes her head. “The peace talks between the four kingdoms are taking much longer than anticipated. Although he and Prince Jeonghan should be back by tomorrow, if what the socialites are gossiping about in the main plaza are true.”

You stifle a soft laugh. “I bet Prince Jeonghan’s stirring up trouble in a foreign court as we speak.”

“You can say that again,” Sakura agrees with a withering sigh. “One of the reasons the king won’t easily let Prince Jeonghan take his place is because of his constant deviance. I’d bet my salary that he was just waiting for Prince Joshua to take up a wife before handing him the crown instead.”

“Kkura, the others might hear,” you scold, but there’s a chuckle wedged between the words. “Well, if a miracle happens and they arrive home earlier than expected, you know where to find me.”

“You’re very diligent about reading, aren’t you, miss?” She comments, impressed. “I know a couple of princess consorts in the making, but you’re probably the only one who cares to read about the technicalities of running a kingdom. Most of them are only in it for the chance to marry into a royal family.”

“Those waiting for me back home wouldn’t be very proud if I only leeched off my engagement with Prince Joshua,” you say a-matter-of-factly.

“You mean your father?”

There’s a pause in the conversation—one long enough for you to suddenly be cognizant of several things at once. The water running from a nearby fountain. Birds chirping before migrating into their nests for the night. In the silence, you let your eyes wander to the rings in your fingers.

A diamond engagement ring that probably costs more than what you’ve earned in your entire life on your ring finger and a bright blue forget-me-not wrapped around your pinky.

Right. Sakura doesn’t know about…

“Yes,” you tell her, but there’s hesitation in your voice that you hope she won’t hear. “He’s been very thorough about giving me advice on how to make the best decisions for a lot of people.”

“As expected of a royal mage,” she sighs, “Oh well, I’ll leave you be, miss. If your father is as thorough as you say he is, then I can only imagine what he’s written in that new letter.”

Well, she’s not exactly wrong.

After exchanging farewells, Sakura bows her head with a practiced curtsy—saying something about supper being ready in an hour or two before leaving you to your own devices. When you find yourself all alone once more, you rip open the envelope with a hint of excitement buzzing on your fingertips.

It’s been about three months since you’ve left your hometown and started your assimilation period. During those three months, you were constantly fed with a multitude of information that comes with being part of the regency. From etiquette classes to foreign relations—your teachers all expected you to take everything they told you to heart.

While the process sounds much too tedious, especially for someone who’s quite literally stuck here for another nine months, Joshua always took it upon himself to make sure you wouldn’t feel too bored with all the stringent formalities.

He’s wonderful company—never running out of stories to tell. From childhood embarrassments at the hands of his older brother to his own share of mischief that’s always overshadowed by the gravity of Jeonghan’s, Joshua kept you constantly entertained.

Your fiancé even suggested that the two of you sneak out into the city sometime just so he could show you that pub near the outskirts that he enjoys frequenting while undercover as an ordinary citizen. Of course, the offer sounded tempting at first, but you rightfully declined out of respect for both the royal family and the tradition that has kept the kingdom going for so long.

However, Joshua isn’t always here to keep you company. Being one of the most important figures in the kingdom, he and Jeonghan are regularly called in and out of the castle to attend to some business that their parents are too busy to sneak into their own schedules.

It’s during your fiancé’s bouts of absence that you look forward to your next form of entertainment—all the letters sent from home.

Just as you’ve told Sakura, your father accommodates all your questions about ruling over one’s constituents as much as he can—telling you to pay attention to the needs of the people above all else.

But aside from the detailed notes he leaves you with, there’s always another letter wedged inside the envelopes he sends to the castle every fortnight.

Hey.

How are you? Has the prince been treating you well, still? Sorry I couldn’t write to you last time. Training’s been hell and Jongkook hasn’t let me breathe for the past week. When the headmaster told me that becoming that guy’s apprentice wasn’t going to be easy, I didn’t think he was that serious. It’s a miracle I haven’t gotten third degree burns from all this temperature training.

Things are a little a lot different in the southern cities compared to home. Everyone is as mean as they could be. Jongkook called it the survival of the fittest and I kind of get where he’s coming from. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see someone smiling every now and again, right? It’s a good thing I’m allowed to go home every week, or else my sanity would’ve disappeared before we could even see each other again.

About your flowers: have I told you that Chaewon’s helping me maintain them whenever I’m away? We’ve buried the hatchet and agreed to look after your forget-me-nots together! But she kind of emphasized that she’s doing this for you and not because she’s completely forgiven me for the monstera incident. But hey, progress is progress, right?

I checked them out personally when I got home today. They seemed more vibrant than usual. Almost like they’re happy to know I’m back. Seeing them made me think how I’d probably feel when your assimilation period is over. Ah, but I’m running out of parchment to write on. Sorry about that. There isn’t much going on with me anyways.

Tell me about your classes when you write back, yeah? You also mentioned a pub that Prince Joshua wanted to sneak you into last time. Did you go through with it? Did you have fun? I can’t wait to hear from you so the story better be exciting!

P.S. If the prince himself encourages you to sneak out of the castle, would you consider doing that so we can wander around the main plaza sometime?

P.P.S. That was a joke, by the way. Don’t have the royal guard arrest me.

P.P.P.S. But if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t say no.

Chan writes his letters the same way he talks in real life. You can almost hear his voice inside your head as you go through every word. You’re glad that he still has enthusiasm to spare over receiving tutelage from someone as important as Kim Jongkook, but even you can tell that his training is no walk in the park.

There were tears in your eyes when he first broke the news. You thought he’d spend his entire life without getting the proper guidance he needs to hone his powers. But a month after your departure, Chan quickly kept you up to speed about his newfound mentor with a promise that he’ll be the best fire elemental in your hometown by the time you got back.

But with how he bemoans the rigorous training in his letters, you ponder if he sometimes gets hit with the thought of quitting halfway. While his excruciating routines are a far cry from the year’s worth of assimilation classes you’re required to attend, you like to think that you and Chan have a similar threshold for the things you’ll willingly bear without complaints.

Though you’ve already accustomed yourself with your life at the castle, it’s a no-brainer to say you’d choose to leave for home in a heartbeat if given the chance. But your conscience won’t let you entertain the idea for too long, especially knowing how much you owe it to your hometown to persevere until the end.

That’s why even if you’d want nothing more than to see your best friend, you decidedly draw a fine line between your responsibilities and your heart’s desires. You want so badly to meet Chan again even if that means sneaking past the royal guards, but you’ve never really been one to bend and break the rules for selfish reasons like that.

Instead, you tuck your best friend’s letter away in the envelope beside your father’s. Nothing but the sound of the water spilling from the fountain rings in your ears.

As you stare at the pretty blue flower tied at the base of your pinky, you wonder for the hundredth time if you’ve made the right decision at all.

Prince Joshua is easy to love.

By your sixth month in the castle, you can genuinely say that you’ve at least developed a kind of attachment to the prince that borders on romantic. He’s handsome, thoughtful, kind, and many other traits that would only quantify him as a perfect husband.

Jeonghan regularly catches your gaze lingering several seconds too long on your fiancé every suppertime and it’s no surprise that the eldest prince would tease you to the ends of the earth for it. Saying something along the lines of if you’re already making moony eyes at him now, what more when you finally tie the knot?

It’s something that always flusters you no matter how many times Jeonghan brings it up. But it’s not because you’re embarrassed about what you feel for Joshua. It mostly stems from the fact that you don’t know what to feel for him.

Despite having lived under the same roof for six months, you’re still unsure of where your heart stands when it comes to Joshua. It’s a standstill of emotions that frustrates you to no end. You know nothing will be lost if you just surrender to your budding feelings, but it’s like there’s something always holding you back.

When the king hosts an overdue gala in the castle, you finally realize what it is.

It’s been more than half a year since they last held one within the premises out of respect for your ongoing assimilation. But now that you’ve passed the six-month mark, the royal court deemed it appropriate to give you more exposure to social functions such as this.

You’re understandably nervous for your first public appearance as Prince Joshua’s fiancée. Sakura has told you about how ruthless the kingdom's nobles could be when it comes to unearthing other people’s business. But your handmaiden assured you there’s nothing to worry about since you’ve done flawlessly with your classes since day one.

So there you are in front of the ballroom, arm linked with Joshua’s as the queen introduces you to every single noble in attendance. You wonder if the prince can tell just how nervous you are but you can at least hope that your smile can convince a hundred other strangers otherwise.

“Hey,” he whispers—eyes still riveted towards the crowd.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be so uptight.”

You try your best not to make a face. “Easy for you to say, Mister I’ve-been-attending-galas-since-I-was-in-the-womb.”

Joshua chuckles softly. “But you’ve been attending these frequently, too. That’s how we met, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been the center of attention!”

“Well…” He pauses before shifting his gaze towards the crowd—his mother’s sweet voice echoing throughout the ballroom as she tells everyone how excited she is to welcome you to the family soon. “If it helps, there’s a certain someone in the crowd that’s definitely rooting for you.”

Your confusion visibly shows on your face before you follow his line of sight. You knew your father would be in attendance as is required of all royal mages, but it’s not him that you spot in the crowd.

It’s Chan.

He’s a lot different than you remember—looking much too dapper to pass as the boy you knew as your best friend. He’s donned in expensive-looking garbs, the maroon silk of his tunic hanging loosely off his frame. His hair is slicked back and styled in a way that would make anyone think he was from one of the noble houses. Even the manner he’s holding a glass of champagne looks way too sophisticated for someone you frequently teased for his lack of etiquette and—

There’s a woman hanging off his arm. A woman you don’t know, but looks just as breathtaking as any maiden inside this damn ballroom.

Who is she? Chan has never mentioned any new friends in his letters. Hell, he didn’t even tell you he was going to be here tonight. Instead of feeling at peace with the fact your best friend is finally in front of you like Joshua assumed, all it does is stir a plethora of unpleasant feelings in the pit of your stomach.

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way,” the queen says with a smile—snapping you out of your trance, “how about we let our stars of the night lead the first dance? I know the lot of you have missed our parties. On behalf of the royal family and your future king and queen, we hope you’ll enjoy this night of music and liquor. Have a good evening, everyone.”

Forcing yourself not to think about how the queen just referred to you and Joshua as the kingdom’s future king and queen, you let your fiancé lead you to the dancefloor. Joshua is careful as ever as he helps you down the polished marble steps—that handsome smile never leaving his face. You feel like your heart would’ve fluttered as the two of you exchange the opening bows, but your heartbeat is all over the place knowing Chan is here watching everything unfold.

“You remember what we practiced, right?” Joshua murmurs as the orchestra starts the song.

“U-Uh, yeah,” you stammer—hoping your hands aren’t sweating through your silk gloves. “I won’t step on your toes anymore. Promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

His smooth-talking is not doing you any favors, but you try to dance the same way you practiced with for weeks. The thing about Joshua is that he always makes things easier for you—be it your engagement or some opening dance his parents requested for you to do. He’s so unbelievably accommodating that your initial nervousness easily falls away as the music continues to fill the ballroom.

You only notice that the other guests have already paired up with their own partners on the dancefloor when Joshua twirls you around and hands you over to a noble gentleman you find vaguely familiar. He grins at you when he receives his next dance partner, mouthing “You can do it,” before he spins her away.

This is the part that you barely rehearsed for. Joshua simply told you to have fun and the rest will come easily. His unhelpful advice threw you off a little, since you were so accustomed to doing things by the book—to abiding by the rules that have been set.

Your current partner—Hyunjin, as he introduced himself—seems to pick up on your nervousness.

“You’re the kid of one of the royal mages, right?” he asks. “I’m the same. You’ve done this partner exchange thing before, haven’t you? I’ve seen you around a few times in the past.”

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, but I’m just really nervous today.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Understandable. Don’t think about it too much and just let the music guide you through it.”

Well that’s easier said than done. The noblemen in the kingdom must have some sort of dance class where they’re taught to just take it easy because that’s definitely something you can picture Joshua saying to you as well.

But as the orchestra continues to play song after song, you find your initial inhibitions ebbing away with each partner that passes. Hyunjin is right—you have done this before and you’re slowly remembering how fun it feels to dance with strangers in the middle of the castle’s ballroom.

As the last few songs start to play, there’s no trace of nervousness left to be seen on your face. You’re finally in your element.

Until you finally find yourself in the arms of the same person who amplified your anxiety in the first place.

“Hey,” Chan greets with a soft smile as he fits one hand over your waist and entwines the other with yours. “I thought I’d never be able to get to you.”

You spend a couple of seconds just gawking at him, but your body thankfully still moves to the rhythm. Chan has the gall to stifle a laugh at your reaction and you nearly step on his foot on purpose.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss as he twirls you around.

“Whoa. Don’t get so worked up. The headmaster invited me, so my presence here is completely legal,” he responds, that stupid smile never leaving his face. “Anyway, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks, but you could’ve at least told me you’ll be here!”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

You want to snap at him and scold him for taking you by surprise like that. Part of you kind of wants to ask about his date for the night too, but past the frustration, you’re still glad to see him. It’s been too long and you know you have lots of catching up to do in person. So instead of an endless barrage of questions, you simply bask in the feel of being in your best friend’s safe hands after going so long without him.

You lose yourself to the music. At that moment, it’s as if you and Chan are the only two people in the world—contained in your own little bubble. When your gaze lands on the hand clasped with yours, your heart soars at the fact that he’s still wearing the ring you gave to him all those months ago.

A forget-me-not at the base of his pinky—much like your own.

“I’m not sure if I can steal you away for a quick chat after this so…” He purses his lips together as if he’s unsure of what to say. “You’re doing great. The queen seems enamored with you from what I could tell from her speech, so I hope you won’t put yourself down like you always do. You’ll be the best princess consort ever.

“And you seem really happy with Prince Joshua. I’m glad.”

Before you could even issue a response, he’s already turning you over to your next partner—making the words dissipate on your tongue before you can say them out loud.

Your next partner is none other than your future brother-in-law and you’re not sure if this is a good thing or not.

“Having fun?” Jeonghan asks with mirth coloring his tone.

“As much fun as someone who’s wearing heels all night can have,” you sigh as you match his careful yet precise movements. “Am I really going to have to do this all the time once Prince Joshua and I are married?”

The older man hums. “Mmm… You and Shua getting married? Not too sure about that, love.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What?”

“Ah, forgive me. I was just teasing,” Jeonghan muses with a sleazy look that’s rubbing you the wrong way. “It’s just that…I noticed you and that last partner of yours have matching rings, as well. Seems too good to be a coincidence on my end, but I could just be making the wrong assumptions.”

You don’t know why, but your chest seizes with panic—immediately explaining to Jeonghan that Chan is your best friend and nothing else. It’s not that you’re ashamed of him, but…

“Relax, little dove. I never insinuated otherwise,” Jeonghan chuckles. “But if you’re going to settle down with my brother, I suggest you do it with an unwavering heart. That’s all.”

You know you didn’t do anything remotely wrong, but Jeonghan is making it seem like he’s just caught you red handed for a crime you aren’t aware of committing. The same cheery smile lingers on his face for the entire dance, but there was an uncharacteristic seriousness in his words when he told you that last part.

A quiet voice inside your head tells you that you completely deserve the suspicion.

“Go find your fiancé for the final dance, love,” Jeonghan says with one last gentlemanly bow. “It’s only fair to properly conclude something you started together.”

Something tells you that there’s a double meaning behind his words, but even with how much time you’ve spent with Jeonghan, you still can’t easily parse what he means to say. Despite this, you do as you’re told—weaving through the crowd of visitors in search of Joshua.

You find him near the orchestra, dancing with the same woman whose arm was linked in Chan’s earlier tonight. There’s an dazzled look on her face that you’ve seen on the other ladies your fiancé has danced with and you chalk it up to the usual enchantment people are subjected to when they’re in Joshua’s company. He has that effect on people, it seems.

But she promptly snaps out of it when her eyes drift off to you—whispering something for Joshua to hear before the prince spins around with a welcoming look. He grins like he’s oh-so happy to see you and even if you know you should feel just as elated…

All that swells in your chest is guilt.

“They want us to what?”

A few days after the royal gala, Joshua pays your bedchambers a visit early in the morning. Sakura had just finished helping you into your corset and dress when the prince came knocking and despite your initial surprise, you gladly welcomed him at the doorway.

“Mother and Father want us to pay the local orphanage a visit,” Joshua reiterates the same words he just mentioned a minute ago, bemusement clear on his face. “They’ve been dispatching royal mages to hold magic classes for the young mages there lately. Jeonghan is usually the one who oversees it, but he has something more urgent to take care of today.”

Your throat bobs at the news. “But…I haven’t completed my assimilation yet.”

Joshua waves away your concerns. “About that. Since you’ve done such a remarkable job with your training thus far, and since you’ve apparently enamored dozens of guests the other day, I asked Father to reconsider the restrictions that come with the process.”

Enamored dozens of…? You shake your head, focusing on the matter at hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the assimilation period is still in effect, but we’ve decided to…rectify a few of the rules that come with it,” Joshua explains with a cheeky smile. “Once royal protégés like you have passed the half-year mark, you’ll be allowed to go in and out of the castle as you please.”

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. Is he being serious? Or is this a test?

“Come on, you’re making that face again.”

“What face?”

“Like what I’m saying is too good to be true.” Your fiancé pouts. "Don’t you want to go out? If I was stuck for six months in the castle without getting a taste of the outside, I honestly would’ve gone insane. Abiding by the one year rule is simply inhumane and it should’ve been amended a long time ago.”

…There he is again—making things easier for you like he always does.

You’ve never once thought of the castle as a prison, but… You did miss the outside. You miss early morning strolls in parks, weaving through markets to buy produce from local vendors. It’s been so long since you’ve had actual freedom that you forgot that you were quietly longing for it at all.

And Joshua went out of his way to give you just that.

“Okay,” you tell him—cautiousness still evident in your tone, but much less pronounced.

“What time do we leave?”

You have a feeling that the gods are out to smite you today.

No, really. They are. Because what sort of sick game is at play right now? Just when you thought you’ve found even more reasons to stick by Joshua until the end, they decide to throw a curveball at you in the form of…

“Oh, hello,” Chan greets with a stunned look when he appears behind the double doors to the orphanage—white marks that suspiciously look like cake batter smeared across his face. “I didn’t know that you were coming today. Prince Jeonghan said—”

“Yeah, Prince Jeonghan was busy so here we are,” you speak before Joshua could even explain, which you think is all kinds of rude, but your mouth starts running before your brain can even process the fact that your best friend is right in front of you. “Pray tell, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, princess-consort-in-the-making. What’re you doing outside the castle?” Chan laughs as he opens the door wider with an apologetic bow given to Joshua. “Forgive me, Your Highness. We’re always just this familiar with each other.”

“So I’ve been told,” Joshua chuckles before turning to you. “Didn’t your father tell you? Chan is his newly appointed aide. He’s dealing with something in your hometown right now, so he often sends him to tend to matters like this in his stead.”

No, your father did not tell you anything about this at all. Your incredulous expression shifts between your fiancé and best friend as if you’re waiting for the punchline of some joke shared between them.

It never comes.

“I-I see,” you say instead, clearing your throat before looking at Joshua again. “So is there anything I need to do?”

“Mmm, you can go meet the children with Chan while I talk to the orphanage directress,” he suggests. “You’ll be alright with that, right Chan?”

Your best friend nods. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“No need to be so formal with me. My fiancée's friends are mine as well,” the prince chuckles while he shakes his head. “I best be off to the directress’ office. I’ll come find the two of you after. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Chan answers. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Joshua grins. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the orphanage’s communal kitchen—rounding up children who might or might not hurt each other with their own play magic.

They were apparently in the middle of baking a cake for the directress when you and Joshua made your unannounced visit. From how smitten the kids are with Chan, you figure that he must’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.

Your best friend mentioned that he has a new…sideline going on, but you never imagined it to be this.

“Channie, who’s this?” Iseul—as Chan introduced—asks while he eyes you with a doe-eyed look. “Your wife?”

“Iseul,” reprimands one of the other kids. This one’s Eri, if you recall correctly. “That’s rude…”

The boy laughs nervously before fidgeting with his fingers. “O-Oh, sorry. I just thought so since she’s wearing the same ring Channie’s wearing.”

As if on cue, you and Chan both glance at your rings—two forget-me-nots stare back.

Your best friend is the first to address their curiosity. “No, she’s not my wife.”

Iseul cranes his head. “Then why’re you two wearing matching rings? The directress told me that only people who are married can do that.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he chuckles before walking towards the brick oven in the middle of the kitchen—striking the coals with a precise shot of flame magic. A quiet ember immediately smolders beneath. “We wear rings as a symbol of a promise we made to each other. Isn’t that right?”

Trying not to look too stunned with his precise technique, you clear your throat. “Um, yes. Chan is my best friend. We make promises all the time.”

You kind of fear that the explanation might not be enough for Iseul, but surprisingly, he just nods in understanding. “Ohhh. Just like me and Eri then!”

At the mention of her name, Eri’s face goes red, but she doesn’t make any moves to deny it.

“Yup. Just like you and Eri,” Chan agrees with a laugh. “Come on. Let’s put the cake we worked so hard on in the oven. You want to give this as a gift to the directress, right?”

Ten minutes later, the other kids joined the fray as they watched the cake rise inside the oven. You and Chan watch them carefully from a distance, making sure no one comes too close to burn themselves.

“Sooo,” your best friend starts, leaning against the wooden counter. “Did the prince sneak you out or?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No. But he did negotiate with the king to overhaul the terms that come with the assimilation period. Once someone manages to last for six months, they’re allowed to go outside.”

Chan whistles. “Now that’s a guy who’ll do anything for his wife. Uh, future wife.”

If those words were uttered by someone else, you would’ve felt flattered. It’s an honor to have someone like Joshua as your fiancé. He’s done more than enough for you over the past year and you can’t even begin to comprehend how you’re supposed to pay him back for his kindness.

But when Chan says them, it fills your chest with a feeling you can’t name.

“Anyway,” you begin, “were you planning on telling me that you’re Father’s aide now or was I just going to find that out from Prince Joshua after all?”

“Hehe, sorry,” he says, sounding anything but apologetic. “I…kinda wanted to keep it a surprise until your assimilation period is over. But turns out, I could get to see you much sooner after all.”

You roll your eyes despite the smile that creeps up your face.

It’s common practice for royal mages to appoint aides that they’re training to be the next royal mage. You can only imagine how much Chan has improved over the last six months to have garnered your father’s approval like this. That man’s standards are crazy high.

But then again, you’ve always known that Chan was always cut out to be an amazing mage.

As the children’s attention shifts to Eri, who’s being egged on by Iseul to ‘do that trick with the flowers again’, you find yourself quietly observing them. With red cheeks, Eri relents—snapping her fingers once before a pretty sunflower materializes out of thin air.

That casual display even catches you off guard.

At your side, Chan stifles a laugh and you shoot him a dirty look. “You and Eri have the same elemental affinity. She doesn’t know her way around plants yet, but she can make flowers from sheer will alone.”

That’s…quite impressive, actually. You haven’t met a promising mage with an affinity for plant life since Chaewon. And Eri is barely ten years old.

“I bet she’ll grow up to be a fine mage,” you comment fondly as you keep your eyes on the kids.

Just as you say the words, Iseul claps his hands enthusiastically—lone spurts of fire jumping from his fingers. The other kids all exclaim as they avoid the flames before telling Iseul to knock it off.

“Uh, yeah. Iseul is a fire elemental,” Chan says dryly. “He’s also kinda having trouble controlling his powers. But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.”

At that moment, you realize that a lot can change in the span of six months. Before you left your hometown, you never would’ve imagined Chan being responsible for another child’s magical progress. You were so used to hearing him putting himself down that the confidence he now exudes surprises you. In a good way.

Whatever he went through in the southern cities, you think of extending your gratitude to his mentor, Jongkook. You can only imagine what he put your best friend through for him to have this much trust in himself and his powers now.

Chan heaves a laugh that he pulls from the bottom of his stomach when one of the kids douses Iseul with a magical spray of water. It’s a sound you’ve longed to hear for months and now that his laughter is singing in your ears, you can’t help but stare at him a little too fondly.

What’s more is that he still has cake batter smeared across his cheek. You wonder if he genuinely isn’t aware it’s there or he’s just keeping it on for laughs. Still, you unconsciously lean closer—raising your hand to brush your fingers across the cream. Your best friend visibly startles at the gesture but makes no moves to shy away from your touch.

With your faces inches away, you start to realize just how close you’ve gotten. You can almost feel the hitch of his breath across your skin and…

Has Chan always been this handsome?

But those few precious moments are immediately shattered like glass when Iseul gasps and points to the entrance of the kitchen. “Look! It’s Prince Jeonghan!”

You and Chan break apart like you’ve both been burned by Iseul’s flames. Confusion races through your brain because you were told that Jeonghan was busy today, so why…?

“Common mistake, but I’m not Prince Jeonghan. I’m his brother,” Joshua clarifies as he steps into the kitchen with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

One of the other kids gasps. “Are you a prince too?”

“He is.”

It surprises you that Chan is the one to speak up—having moved away from the counter and closer to the kids. You feel your heart twist when he leaves, but you shove down the emotion since Chan is beaming like he always is.

“He’s Prince Joshua and he’s getting married soon,” he continues before gesturing to you. “To her, actually.”

The children let out noises of awe, blinking up at you and Joshua with mouths agape like they’ve just witnessed someone do a neat trick with their magic. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden attention and you would’ve been glad to know that Joshua—for all his confidence and wit—isn’t faring so well either.

If only you weren’t so put down by the fact that your best friend just drew a fine line between the two of you. A line that he probably, definitely won’t cross.

“That’s right. If all goes well, we’re having the wedding in six months,” Joshua agrees quietly—his initial shock morphing into fondness.

“Whoa! A royal wedding?” Iseul gasps. “Are we invited too?”

The atmosphere proceeds to blur into a buzz of questions that Joshua is happy to accommodate. For children who are probably no older than twelve years old, they seem very engrossed in the relationships interspersed between the royal family.

You wonder if Jeonghan had a hand in their particular interest in the matter, but you don’t ponder on it too much because Chan eventually excuses himself from the kitchen—asking you to watch over the cake while he goes to check on the other kids playing in the backyard.

Your eyes stay riveted to the entrance even when your best friend is long gone.

You’re not sure how you’ve managed to last nine months away from home, but here you are.

As the end of your assimilation draws near, so does the royal wedding that’s been the talk of the capital for weeks now. Ever since you’ve been given freedom to go out of the castle as you please, you’ve made several friends among the elite socialites.

They’re always dying to get their hands on an inside scoop about what you and Joshua have planned for the final quarter of the process, but you often turn these requests down before convincing one of the ladies to tell you about the diamond necklace her husband got her for their anniversary.

It’s a scheme that Sakura told you in passing: if you want to get the nosy ones off your back, just trick them into talking about themselves instead.

Speaking of your handmaiden, she’s been busy booking you several trips to the most renowned boutique in the capital. With only three months left until the wedding, you’re expected to look out for the perfect dress to wear on that special day.

Despite knowing that you’re more level-headed than most marriageable women your age, you have fantasized about what you would look like in a wedding gown. Although sixteen year-old you never would’ve considered getting to sample the designs of well-known tailors across the kingdom, much more being fussed over by the royal family itself.

What you pictured was a simple wedding in your hometown—donned with a dainty white dress that didn’t boast much glamor and glitz. The only visitors would be your family, some close friends, along with your colleagues and students. A spring wedding always seemed perfect to you, and whenever you imagined yourself walking down the aisle, the person waiting for you at the altar is—

“Oh my goodness,” the seamstress behind all the stunning dresses you're trying on gasps when she lets herself inside the dressing room—eyes glittering like rhinestones. “You look absolutely stunning! I definitely like the fit of this more than the others, miss!”

You startle out of your careful reminiscing as your brain zones back in on your reflection in the mirror. This dress is as white as an angel’s wings and though she is completely right about it easily being the best you’ve tried on so far, it’s a far cry from the one you dreamed about wearing as a teen.

You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“You think so?” you murmur, pushing down those past preferences into the furthest vestiges of your mind. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aside from wedding gowns, the queen often consults you about the venue of the wedding. You’re actually quite surprised with how much agency they’re allowing you over the necessary decisions, but she insisted that it’s only fair for her future daughter-in-law to have a say with how her own wedding is going to pan out.

“I was thinking of holding it in the castle’s courtyard for all the kingdom to see,” she tells you over afternoon tea, a kind smile settled on her face. “That’s how all royal weddings usually take place, but I thought we could use some fresh input, you know?”

“Fresh input?” you repeat. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I don’t think I can follow…”

The queen shakes her head. “Silly girl, I’m asking if you have another venue in mind! Your ideas about royal politics have always been refreshing to hear, so I figured that you must have an alternative sitting inside that pretty mind of yours.”

The moment the words leave her lips, you immediately picture the riverbanks back in your hometown. It’s not a place that could accommodate hundreds upon thousands of guests like royal weddings should. But if you were to settle with a more intimate gathering, that would be your best bet.

Of course, you tell the queen none of this.

“I think holding it at the courtyard is a splendid idea already, Your Highness,” you tell her with a smile that you don’t quite believe in. “After all, there’s no place like home.”

Another thing to consider is the guestlist. Even if this is an event that the royal family encourages the entire kingdom to look forward to, only a select few are allowed inside the castle premises.

For some reason, Jeonghan is the one saddled with the job to curate who gets to witness you being hailed both as Joshua’s wife and as princess-consort. He’s hard at work when you find him in the castle library one day, buried in stacks upon stacks of invitations with a look on his face that screams why am I even here?

Curious, you slide into one of the empty seats at the table. “I didn’t think they’d hand you a job so tedious.”

“They didn’t,” Jeonghan frames the words with a sigh. “I volunteered ‘cause I know it would make Shua happy.”

“You can make your little brother happy in other ways too,” you joke.

The older prince hums as he scribbles onto a fine sheet of parchment. “You’d know a lot about making my brother happy, now would you?”

Jeonghan has a reputation for being a scheming, sharp-tongued prince. You’re fully aware of this, but getting to live with him for almost a year made you see sides of him he doesn’t usually show to the public.

Though not as openly as Joshua does, he cares for his family and the staff in his own, quiet way. You like to think that his subtle thoughtfulness even extended to you during these fateful months in the castle.

But after that fateful encounter in the ballroom during the six-month mark of your assimilation, something told you that you no longer had the privilege of being on the receiving end of his support.

“It’s kind of ironic, really,” Jeonghan muses before dipping his pen into the inkwell. “I’m willingly overseeing this blasted guestlist despite the fact that my brother is getting married to someone who doesn’t even love him. But I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.”

“Your Highness, forgive me but it’s rather bold of you to assume that I don’t harbor an ounce of love for my fiancé,” you tell him outright, lacing your fingers together tightly on your lap.

Right next to the lavish ring Joshua had given to you, a forget-me-not sits unassumingly by its side.

Jeonghan laughs. “Really? That’s quite amusing, since I think it’s even bolder for you to choose responsibility over the man your heart truly longs for.”

Silence rings in the room like white noise and you aren’t able to school your expression into neutrality fast enough to escape Jeonghan’s observant eyes. The complacent set of his jaw clues you in on just how much he actually knows and you aren’t certain about what to make of it.

“Whatever you think is going on with me and…that person,” you start, the address tasting like acid on your tongue, “I guarantee you that it’s long gone. He’s the one who made it clear several months before and I never once intended to go back on something I already started.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes before pointing the tip of his quill at you. “You know, things would be much easier if you were just a gold-digging commoner and none else.”

Your face twists with offense. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he retaliates as he leans back in his seat. “If you were in this for money and power like every other woman out there, Shua would’ve called off the engagement much sooner. But even I know that you’re too good for that.”

Your momentary vexation with Jeonghan blurs into confusion in a matter of seconds. Is he making a jab at you or complimenting you?

When he recognizes the puzzled look on your face, he heaves a long-winded sigh before putting down his pen altogether.

“Let me put it this way: you’re objectively the best princess-consort-in-training that I’ve had the pleasure to meet. You do everything you’re told flawlessly—sticking by the book at all times if you can help it. You’d even sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others.

“While that sense of responsibility would make for a great leader in the future…my little brother doesn’t deserve to be loved as half-heartedly as you love him.”

Your heart thumps inside your ribcage as if it was a prison it longs to break free from. Part of you knows you should refute every single thing that Jeonghan just said. It’s what a future princess-consort should do.

But every time your mind flashes back to that old spring wedding fantasy you conjured up in your hometown, Chan’s lovely smile burns itself into the back of your eyelids.

Wordlessly, Jeonghan goes back to work and you stew in the silence of the library much longer than you have to. It’s only when one of the servants calls both of your attention to have lunch in the dining hall that he speaks again.

“You still have several weeks to make up your mind, little dove,” Jeonghan whispers slowly the moment you both enter the dining hall. It doesn’t help your case when Joshua perks up in his seat at the sight of you walking inside with his older brother like he hasn’t given you an ultimatum right then and there.

“Make sure each one counts.”

You don’t really receive letters from Chan anymore.

He’s stopped sending them together after you last met him in the orphanage. Your father explained that he’s been entrusted with several tasks both in and out of the Academy and that those take up most of his time.

You want to tell him that your best friend never once missed a letter even during those hellish days he spent in the southern cities, but in the end, you decide to keep your silence.

Thoughts about letters that won’t come are the last thing on your mind when winter falls upon the kingdom. The preparations are in full swing despite the fact that there’s still a month left before the wedding itself and because you refuse to be a sitting duck that lets everyone do all the work, you decide to contribute every now and again.

But even if there’s a sense of accomplishment in being able to help around, this season has always been your least favorite.

You’re a mage who practices with plants and flowers alike, so it’s only natural for you to feel under the weather this time around. The fact that you’ve scarcely gotten to practice your magic ever since you set foot in the capital does little in contributing to your peace of mind as well.

Your hometown is teeming with plant life that you could nurture with the simplest spells. Inside the stone walls and marble floors of the royal castle, there’s barely anything that requires your constant care.

It’s a given that royals tend to avoid relying on magic for all matters concerning the regency. You were taught that cleverness and wit are the two things that will keep you alive among the foreign courts of other kingdoms and that things like magic can be entrusted to the royal mages instead.

But all it takes is a withering winter to make you realize that you don’t want your magic—the very core of who you are—to dwindle into nothingness.

It’s for that reason that you find yourself heading over to the castle gardens despite the fact that you promised Sakura that you’d start practicing for matrimonial dance with your usual instructor this afternoon. The sun has barely peeked beyond the clouds these days, but you’re convinced that you’ll at least find comfort in the flowers that grew sparsely inside.

There, you find Joshua crouched next to a shrub of carnations.

He’s dressed down today—comfortably enough to let you know that he doesn’t have any plans for the meantime. Your fiancé is examining each bloom with such rapt attention, you’re convinced he didn’t even notice your arrival.

Surely enough, as you take the first step to approach him, he rises back to his full height—turning around with a vibrant carnation in his hand.

Everyone inside the castle uses their magic so infrequently that you sometimes forget that you and Joshua share the same elemental affinity. Maybe that’s the reason it was so easy for you to get along with him for the past eleven months.

But you know better than most that there’s more to it than just that.

“You’ve been very busy lately,” Joshua comments with an easygoing smile. “I barely see you these days.”

You sigh, tucking your cardigan closer to your form. “If I’m not helping with the wedding preparations, I’m holed up in my bedchambers. I…don’t really like winters.”

“Neither do I,” he chuckles. “But my duties won’t stop just because I loathe the cold. I’m sure you understand that well.”

The quiet settles over the both of you like a blanket of snow—making you wonder how you used to deal with long winters in the past.

Then you remember a boy who’s always brought warmth in your life without even trying. Nights spent sleeping in front of the fireplace, tucked in the warmth of his body no matter how harsh the blizzards could be. Collective yearning for the day the snow finally melts and spring returns with a flowery smile.

But that’s the thing—it’s all in the past.

“Can I…ask you something?”

The hesitation in Joshua’s words makes you stare at him pensively.

He always sounds sure of himself. Attractively confident. Not in a way that others would find obnoxious, but the complete opposite. There’s a reason why Joshua is so loved in his own kingdom yet right now, you’re starting to see the cracks forming on his gentlemanly demeanor.

“What is it?” you murmur softly despite dread slowly sinking its claws into your skin.

Joshua tilts his head up to the overcast sky like he’s wondering if it’s going to snow today. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply before meeting your eyes again.

“Are you certain you still want to go through with the wedding?”

This…oddly feels like the time you found Jeonghan in the library. The guilt you’ve been harboring for the longest time festers at the implications of his question and you wonder if everything you’ve worked so hard on for the past year will come crashing down today.

“Of course,” you tell him but you’re well aware Joshua knows a lie when he hears it.

“Really?”

“Is there something specific that you wish for me to say?”

He sighs—the cold starting to materialize with each breath. “No, nothing in particular.”

“It’s just that I believe it would be unfair of me to impose marriage when your heart already belongs to someone else.”

The water running from the fountain is all that plagues your ears yet Joshua’s admission doesn’t evoke the visceral reaction you had to Jeonghan telling you nearly the same thing. Hearing the words come from your fiancé’s mouth doesn’t instill you with guilt.

No… This is something much closer to acceptance.

“I once thought that your time in the castle would give enough leeway for us to get to know each other better,” he continues with a sad smile. “And it did. I’m certain that we’re much closer now than we were a year ago. But… I was a fool to think I could ever get you to love me the same way you love him.”

You’re immediately seized with the need to placate him somehow. After all, you were taught that it’s a wife’s duty to ease her husband’s troubles should he confide in her.

But you’re not Joshua’s wife.

(And from how this conversation is going, you might never be.)

All of a sudden, something that Jeonghan said to you in the library resurfaces in your mind. At the time, you were too frustrated with him to actually process the words, but suddenly all of it makes sense.

I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.

“You’ve known all this time,” you tell him incredulously. “Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think that you were obligated to love me for my sake. That’s something that should never be imposed,” he murmurs, twirling the flower in his hands almost wistfully. “I assumed that…maybe if I just gave you enough time, it would come to you naturally. But sometimes things just don’t work out the way you thought and that’s okay.”

If you weren’t trembling in your shoes a minute ago, you certainly are now.

“Joshua,” you whisper. “What are you saying?”

The smile on his face never wavers even as he crosses the distance between you and pulls you into a sound embrace. It catches you off guard for a second because Joshua has never initiated this kind of contact during your entire stay.

But even with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the fact that your mind immediately compares it to how it feels to have Chan’s heat permeating your skin…

It only means that this engagement is as good as over.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Joshua whispers back—one hand smoothing across your hair as he holds you in place. “For giving yourself the chance to love me. For being selfless enough to do everything you’ve done so far. I used to admire your self-sacrificing tendencies, but…

“Now I’m sure it’s high time that you chose yourself for a change.”

You don’t know when the tears started to fall, but you find comfort in the crook of Joshua’s neck as you sob into his arms. He doesn’t say a word as you let it out—all the years you spent looking after others, putting their wellbeing first before your own.

You’ve gotten so accustomed to taking responsibility for everyone around you that it never really occurred to you that things don’t have to be that way.

You’re allowed to choose yourself. You’re allowed to be selfish.

“Go,” Joshua murmurs against the crown of your head. “Go back home. You deserve as much.”

You look up at him, sniffling. “B-But the wedding—”

“There won’t be a wedding,” he reassures with the same sad smile that breaks your heart to see. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll explain the situation to everyone. Right now…you have to go because your father informed me that he’s leaving soon.”

As if you haven’t already been given enough to deal with in a single day, you feel like an anvil has been dropped into the pit of your stomach.

“What do you mean?”

“Lee Jung Chan was assigned to travel to another reputable magic school on the other side of the continent to build an alliance with the Academy,” Joshua explains swiftly. “He leaves tonight and won’t come back in a long, long while depending on how the initial negotiations turn out.”

An alliance…?

Is that what he’s been so preoccupied with these days? So much that he can’t even spare the time to write to you anymore?

Before the next bout of tears could spill from your eyes, Joshua calmingly tucks a loose tuft of your hair behind your ear. He looks at you with so much adoration and longing that you briefly entertain the possibility of you loving him unconditionally in another life.

You hope he’ll be happier there.

“There’s a carriage waiting for you at the gates of the capital,” Joshua says. “Leave now while you still have time.”

You want to say something. To apologize to him. To thank him. To tell him that he deserves the world and much, much more.

But all you do is slide off the diamond engagement ring from your finger, handing it to Joshua with an apologetic look before bolting to the castle entrance—not even sparing him a single word in goodbye.

Venues? Wedding gowns? Invitations? None of these mattered anymore.

Not when you're about to lose your best friend—the love of your life.

Joshua tries not to think about how your hand looked now that it was devoid of his gift; how all that remained is a promise ring that he should’ve taken as a sign to give up a long time ago.

Just as he hears the commotion stirring down the winding halls, Joshua looks up at the sky again. When he closes his eyes, he feels the first few snowflakes land on his face—cold and solitary, much like himself.

Even so...

You broke his heart in the middle of winter, yet Joshua still looks forward to the flowery smile of spring.

The moment you arrived at your hometown, you weren’t sure where to start looking. For one, the coachman who brought you here said that your father was out of town for undisclosed reasons. You couldn’t exactly march up to the headmaster’s office in the Academy to interrogate him about Chan’s whereabouts.

That’s why you opted to start with your best friend’s house openly greeted by his mother with a shocked expression as she asks what on earth you were doing so far away from the royal capital.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” you tell her sheepishly as you try not to shiver too much from the cold. “I promise I’ll keep you up to speed, but for now I really need to find Chan.”

She hesitates for a moment and you chalk it up to the fact that Chan’s mother must be thinking she’s going to have a hand in something illegal if she helps you. After all, she’s always had good instincts when either you or her son were up to no good.

But you tell yourself that this is probably the most good you’ve done for yourself in a long, long time.

In the end, she directs you to the Academy—saying something about Chan wanting to deal with a few things first before he leaves. With just half an hour until nightfall, several students can be seen walking out of the gates after a long day. Some just pass by you without a word, while others throw second glances over their shoulder—as if they couldn’t believe that you’re back either.

You recognize those kids to be some of your former students, but you can’t bring yourself to stop for a quick chat—simply hoping they’ll forgive you for your haste.

But through the thundering of your heart, you hear a familiar voice call your name in the crowd.

“You’re back!" Chaewon remarks with a delightful gasp before tackling you with a firm embrace. “Why didn’t you tell us you were visiting? Did you bring Prince Joshua with—?”

“Chaewon, where’s Chan?” you interject almost desperately.

Your old student blinks up at you, rightfully confused. “Um, he’s going on a trip for a while. Yunjin told me just now that she saw the other royal mages that gathered here leave on their horses an hour ago. Why? Did you need something from him?”

The news makes you feel like your head has been submerged in murky waters—cloying your senses until you could no longer make sense of what’s around you. Chaewon flashes you a disconcerted look, asking if everything is alright.

You want to tell her that you’re fine, but you can’t find the words. Your mouth feels cottony and your eyes are starting to sting. Instead of answering, you turn on your heel, biting down the guilt that comes with dismissing one of your favorite students as you run towards the opposite direction.

Chaewon calls out for you several times, but you don’t look back.

Maybe you should just head back to the castle and tell Joshua that this was all a mistake—a lapse in judgment that can still be taken back. You should just see your assimilation through until the end. You’ve already made it so far, after all.

But you just know, deep in your gut, that Joshua wouldn’t accept that so easily. He made it clear that he wants you to want him with no holds barred. Not because you feel responsible for his feelings. Not because the love of your life has already left. That’s just who he is as a person.

Not wanting to burst into tears for the second time today, you find yourself walking towards the greenhouse—craving that familiar solace you always get whenever you’re inside. Your father told you he was going to keep an eye on it while you were gone and you figure that he’d been telling the truth when you find the enclosure just as you’ve left it.

Several of your personal experiments seem like someone enchanted them with time suspension magic—looking the exact way they did before you left almost a year ago. Among the other plants and flora are other pieces you don’t recognize. You figure that these must be Chaewon’s work and you remind yourself to compliment her once you sort yourself out.

But when you don’t spot a certain plant box you were looking for, a frown roots itself on your face.

Did Chan move your forget-me-nots somewhere else? The vibrant blue flowers should’ve been easy to spot even amidst the lush blooms all around you, but there’s nothing like that in the vicinity.

You take your search outside for reasons unknown. Perhaps it’s the restlessness of just staying in one place when you know the very symbol of your promise with your best friend is nowhere to be found. As you make your way out, you glance at the single flower sitting at the base of your pinky—sadly wondering if Chan is even still wearing his.

But the moment you make it to the back of the greenhouse, you’re much too stunned with the sight that beholds you.

What once was a vacant patch of grasslands is now filled to the brim with forget-me-nots that glow vibrantly in comparison to the bleak gray winter. Despite the drop in temperature, the field of blue flowers stretches on until the borders of the Academy and you have to pinch yourself and make sure you’re not dreaming.

Then, as if this situation can’t get any more unbelievable, you spot someone crouched in the middle of the field of forget-me-nots.

Your best friend.

Chan doesn’t immediately notice you—seemingly lost in thought, just like the day you found him by the riverbanks a year ago. For someone that’s leaving on an indefinite trip to the other side of the continent, he surely doesn’t look dressed the part, having opted for his comfortable cotton tunic and trousers instead of the garbs royal mages and aides are required to don.

You don’t think twice. You just run.

He lets out an undignified yelp when you tackle him into the ground—palms heating up with a flare of his magic with the full intention of blasting away the intruder. But when he finds his best friend lying right on top of him amidst the forget-me-nots, he’s engulfed with a different kind of heat entirely.

“You asshole,” you hiss with teary eyes, beating your fists weakly against his chest. “You’re going away for a long time and you didn’t even bother to tell me? Am I suddenly not your best friend anymore?”

There’s nothing more that Chan hates than seeing you cry, but he loathes it even more when he’s the cause of your tears. He doesn’t even know if you’re actually here with him. You should be back at the royal castle, preparing for your wedding and not sobbing because of your best friend.

But the warmth of your body nestled on top of his own is much too real. It’s the same sensation he’s craved since you left. The same feeling he’s always longed for, for as long as he can remember.

And he’s not such a glutton for punishment that he’ll deprive himself of it any longer.

Chan cracks a barely there smile, the breath of his laughter materializing in front of him as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. He’s not sure if your face flushes because of him or the cold, but he likes to think it’s the former.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, opting to save his many questions for later. “Dunno how you found out about the trip, but I backed out of it last minute. Told the headmaster that I’m not the best with negotiations and that I might unknowingly start a war in the process.”

He half-expects you to either laugh in his face despite the clearly distraught expression you’re wearing or fume at him for being so ridiculous. You probably made the trip from the capital to your hometown just to see him off and he’ll understand your frustration at the fact that his participation was rendered null and void.

But you do neither of these things.

Instead, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt—pulling him up and leaning forward at the same time.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about kissing Chan at least once in your life. But you can attest to the fact that you didn’t imagine it to happen while you’re freshly broken up from a year-long engagement—snowflakes starting to fall in the field of flowers you asked him to take care of.

Those he promised to take care of.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, hands trembling from where they grip Chan’s clothes as you force your breathing to even out. “I’ve always loved you and I’m the biggest idiot in the world for not accepting that sooner.”

Chan gazes up at you in stunned silence, lips moving as if meaning to say something in return but the words evade him. But just when you’re about to emphasize your point again, Chan raises an arm to shield his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You’re lying,” he chuckles almost helplessly. “You’ve got to be messing with me.”

A scowl stretches across your lips. How could that be his first reaction? You thought he’d be elated that you came back and professed your feelings.

But then you entertain the possibility that…what if you’ve read the entire situation wrong? What if Chan never had any feelings of the romantic kind for you at all?

What if you risked everything for nothing?

“Lee Jung Chan,” you whisper threateningly. “I left the Crown Prince himself in a heartbeat when I found out you were going away. Made the entire trip from the capital to here just for the slim chance of seeing you before you left. I even kissed you outside in the middle of winter because I was so fucking glad that you’re here to stay. If that isn’t genuine enough for you, then what else do you want me to do?”

Your best friend lowers his hand and you try not to waver at the sight of his puffy red eyes. He sucks in a deep breath that almost whistles down his throat before taking one of your hands and lifting it closer to his face.

At the base of your pinky is the same ring he’s never once taken off since you gave it to him.

As night falls and the endless snow falls upon your hometown, two lone figures in a field full of flowers remain undisturbed in their lonesome.

For some, love is something you don’t give half-heartedly. For others, it should never be imposed.

For you, it’s a whirlwind of emotions that you could never quite figure out how to deal with.

Yet when it comes to Lee Jung Chan, you realize that love has always been easy.

“Chan,” you sigh into the cold air of his bedroom as your best friend peppers your neck with kisses much too heated than you expected. “S-Slow down a little.”

He breathes out a laugh that sounds much too airy for your liking. Chan detaches his lips from your skin as he flashes you a gummy smile. “Slow down? I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I don’t think I can slow down anymore, princess.”

You have to fight the urge to hit him with his choice of words. “Act any more cheeky and I’m walking out of your house.”

“Duly noted.”

Then his mouth is back on yours.

The trip back to Chan’s house—a new, one bedroom apartment near the town square, not his mother’s house—was a bit tricky. For one, you had to walk around where virtually everyone knows you to be Prince Joshua’s fiancée, answering questions about what you’re doing back home with the wedding coming up so close.

You keep your answers curt and short—not wanting to ignite the scandal of a lifetime before Joshua can even prepare the ample damage control. That and each time someone mentions how happy they are for your engagement, you can feel Chan’s eyes boring into the back of your head.

So now you’re here, crowded beneath your best friend on his mattress as he kisses your breath away.

You’ve never done this before. The most daring thing you’ve done with Joshua, who was literally your fiancé for almost a year, was that last hug you shared before you left the castle for good. So you suppose no one can blame you for feeling so lightheaded from the feel of Chan’s lips pressed against yours alone.

It doesn’t help that, even through his desperation to leave no space between the two of you, there’s still caution weighted beneath his desire. He could probably sense the hesitation in your movements as you reciprocate his vigor—kissing back almost awkwardly despite how good his kisses are making you feel.

“Open your mouth a little for me,” he murmurs, one hand cradling your jaw as you let out a little whimper. “Come on, don’t get shy on me now. I promise you’ll like it.”

Not wanting to keep either of you waiting for much longer, you do as you’re told—opening your mouth just a tad wider right after Chan kisses you again. He easily muffles the gasp you make with his lips when you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. The sensation makes gooseflesh prickle your arms and he coaxes out another embarrassing noise from you—one too salacious for others to hear freely.

“See? What’d I tell you?” he whispers breathlessly against your lips—a strong arm coiling around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “You like it that much?”

You nod meekly. Chan laughs.

“I wanna try something. Hold on.”

Confused, you watch your best friend take a spot beside you on his bed, legs sprawled across the mattress as he tugs you closer to him. You resist his ministrations for a moment as you try to figure out what on earth he’s planning to do. But then it dawns on you.

He wants you to sit on his lap.

“Too much?” he asks with a hint of caution, to which you quickly respond with a shake of your head.

“Just…surprising,” you admit as you settle your hips across his thighs.

You kind of want to ask where he even learned about all this, but part of you doesn’t want to know the answer. Picturing Chan lying with someone else like this is enough to kill your mood, so you decide to push the thought far away until you could no longer remember it.

Despite how…strange and new this is to you, it’s much more comfortable than having his weight press you down into the mattress. Not to mention, you can just brace your hands on Chan’s shoulders as he licks further into your mouth—fingers laced behind the small of your back as you continue whimpering into his kisses.

Gods above. Will you even get out of this alive?

“You taste so sweet,” Chan murmurs before carding his fingers through your hair. “Much better than I imagined.”

You find it in you to chuckle in spite of yourself. “You’ve been imagining this?”

“Enough times to grant me admission to an asylum,” your best friend replies with a sigh as he continues combing your tresses. “I’m crazy about you, if that isn’t obvious enough. Wanted to kiss you so bad back in the orphanage when you leaned in way too close.”

You didn’t know it at the time, but looking back at it now, you definitely felt the same. Now you’re not sure whether or not you should treat Joshua’s untimely entrance in the kitchen that day as a miracle or a curse.

“I did too,” you profess with little hesitation, tracing the curve of his lips with your thumb before resting your forehead against his. “We’re so stupid. If only we admitted our feelings earlier, we wouldn’t be in such a huge mess.”

Chan hums. “You mean…if I just spoke up when you got Prince Joshua’s proposal, you would’ve rejected it?”

“Of course I would,” you nearly exclaim. “I’ve loved you since we were kids, Chan.”

“Ditto. Guess we have lots of missed time to make up for.”

When he claims your lips again, it’s charged with want so potent you can almost taste it on your tongue. Chan presses your body even closer to his, if that’s even possible and as he continues building up the fever pitch of your desire, you start to shift uncomfortably on his lap—slick beginning to pool between your thighs the deeper he kisses you.

The evidence of his own arousal pokes against your middle as well—leaving Chan a groaning mess each time you unknowingly jerk your hips to chase after the barest hint of friction. You don’t know where all this will lead nor do you know what comes after.

All that matters is that Chan is with you right here, right now.

Your clothes all come off one by one. Chan doesn’t forget to drag his lips across every inch of newly exposed skin—a quiet, unrelenting profession of his feelings. He wants to engrave himself into every part of you; to leave his mark so that you’ll remember him still even if he only gets to have you for the night.

But what Chan just doesn’t get is that your heart has already been set on him since the start.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, trailing his calloused fingers along the sensitive curve of your waist when he lays you down on your back. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t like.”

It’s so Chan of him to be this concerned about your boundaries. But you don’t know how else to say that you want nothing more than to take things all the way aside from tugging him back down for another breathtaking kiss.

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask, genuinely curious, just a tad bit afraid.

Your best friend purses his lips, the heat of his body offering you some much needed comfort as he plants another kiss on the corner of your mouth. “It will for a while. But I’ll ease you into it and make you feel good. I promise.”

Chan says the words like you have anything but trust in him. You know he needs a verbal confirmation out of you, but you’re both too embarrassed and too aroused to give him the green light out loud. Instead, you nod your head twice—leaning closer to his ear to whisper:

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Your best friend sighs out something that suspiciously sounds like gods, I love you, before burying his face in your exposed chest—lips latching onto one of the pert nipples as he massages your other breast languidly. The wet sound of his mouth getting to work makes your face flush several shades of red and your sex to leak even more slick than it already has.

There’s just something so arousing about how careful Chan is with your body. He handles you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and throws your mind into an inexplicable haze.

But then again, maybe you’re just that in love with the guy.

You visibly tense underneath his touch when you feel him start to prod his fingers along your glistening seam. You’re so sensitive that you twitch from the slightest contact and Chan sighs a laugh into your chest when he feels it.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I can’t make you feel good if you’re too high-strung.”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff. “You’re not the one who’s about to be fucked into oblivion.”

Chan startles from how easily the words fall from your lips—mouth agape like a fish out of water. You wonder if you said something out of turn but when he kisses you for the millionth time today, you notice something else eclipsing his ready set gentleness.

Something more carnal.

“You can’t rile me up by talking so filthily like that,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m trying to be a good lover by taking things slow. Promise you won’t catch me off guard like that again?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Chan, you know I don’t make promises I can’t keep. But I'll try~”

“Fuck. Alright. I can work with that.”

When he eases a finger inside your awaiting heat, you find the sensation a little uncomfortable. It’s like having something inside you that doesn’t quite belong there. Chan analyzes your reactions in the silence as he continues prodding your entrance—looking for any signs of discomfort like a hawk as he experimentally thrusts that single digit in and out of you.

“F-Feels weird,” you mumble. “Is it supposed to feel weird?”

“I guess you’d feel that way if it was your first time,” he chuckles and your eyes narrow at the implication behind his words. “But I’ve got to loosen you up if I don’t want to hurt you.”

So this wasn’t his first after all. Though you want nothing more than to hear tales about former escapades, you decide to grill him about it later.

You’re about to question how something like this can do that before Chan robs you of your capacity to think coherently, curling his slender finger inside you until he brushes a spot that has your muscles spasming underneath him. A wicked smile finds its way to his face as he slips in another finger so easily—the pads grazing that sensitive patch of flesh to coax out the same reaction from you.

“Still weird?” he laughs.

“Good…” you whimper, grinding your hips shamelessly into his hand. “Feels so good, Chan.”

Your best friend sighs as he watches you slowly cross the threshold between awkward curiosity and the beginnings of an enjoyable time. You’re wet and wanting—just like how he hoped you’d be and the way your tight walls clench around his fingers barely tempers the raw anticipation that sizzles in his veins.

Gentle. He needs to be gentle.

He doesn’t want to lose control when he’s waited oh-so long for this moment.

But god fucking damn are you making it so hard when you’re moaning so prettily for him.

“C-Chan,” you mewl and he feels you tighten even more around his digits. “It feels weird again… Like something’s coming.”

He sucks in a sharp breath before pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. The sensation makes you buck further into his hand and Chan can only do so much to keep himself from just fucking you into the bed.

“Let go,” he tells you before flicking his thumb across your puffy clit. “Let it all go, beautiful. Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

The newfound stimulation blindsides you in a way you didn’t expect—reducing you into a mumbling mess of arousal beneath your best friend as he continues tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub. Your first (of many) orgasms crashes over you like a tidal wave and you sigh out his name so needily, he can barely contain himself for much longer.

But he doesn’t rush you no matter how pent up he is—he won’t, he won’t, he won’t.

Besides, the sight of you so fucked out from taking his fingers alone—lips parted, chest heaving, eyes pulling in and out of focus—is a reward in and of itself.

“You still with me?” your best friend checks in with a concerned look, wiping the sweat that beads across your forehead with the back of his hand.

But the moment his skin makes contact with yours again, you absentmindedly grab his hand—pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“I’ll always be with you.”

Gods above. He doesn’t deserve you.

When he’s sure you’re ready, Chan positions himself right before your entrance—carefully nudging your thighs apart as he fists the angry red erection he’s been sporting all night. The sight of his cock makes you blush, but you figure there’s no point in acting coy now that you’ve made it this far.

“You know what to do when I do something you don’t like, right?”

You nod—not really hearing the words with how transfixed you are on other things. “Y-Yes.”

Chan offers up a lazy smile. “That’s my girl.”

You take all of him inch by unbearable inch—your walls meeting the stretch that his girth offers with mild resistance. His fingers are child’s play compared to this and you force yourself to power through it despite how it burns.

Of course, Chan doesn’t miss a beat despite how hard you try to conceal your discomfort.

“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” he asks with an apologetic smile, wiping the tears that are pooling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. Just a bit more and you’ll get used to it.”

“You promise?”

Your best friend brings an outstretched pinky close to your face—the same pinky with the ring that started all of this staring back at you. The moment you hook your own finger around his, your best friend murmurs:

“I promise.”

Chan is quite patient despite the fact that he’s balls-deep inside of you—keeping the innate desire to just ram his length into you until you’re a sobbing, crying mess for him. The Academy’s best graduate, the kingdom’s sweetheart, his perfect best friend. All reduced to tears on his cock.

“Chan,” you breathe in deeply, having finally accustomed yourself to how he stretches you out. “Y-You can move now.”

Shit. You sound so shy, so innocent.

How could he not give you what you want?

The first outward drag of his hips pulls a pretty little whimper out of you and an even prettier moan when he thrusts back in. Chan sighs as he minds the pace he’s set, cradling your face with one hand as he steadies you with the other.

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a featherlight kiss on your nose. “More than there are stars in the sky, more than how many flowers you’ll ask me to look after while you’re gone.”

His sweet words are subverted with a harsh thrust that he does experimentally to see how you’d react to it. When Chan doesn’t see any indication of pain or dislike, he repeats it—again and again until he can feel you coating his length in the slick of your leaking arousal.

“Feels so fucking good around me,” he rasps, keeping himself from biting into your shoulder because he isn’t sure of how you feel about those kinds of marks just yet. “Perfect… You’re so, so perfect. I’ve never loved anyone else as much as I love you.”

It feels a bit worrisome, admitting all this in the heat of it all. Chan fears that you would find his words a tad disingenuous. For all he knows, you’re thinking that it’s your wonderful cunt making him say all these sweet nothings.

But you’re too far gone yourself to even think about the specifics.

“Deeper,” you beg, lacing your fingers around his neck as more tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Need to feel you deeper, Chan.”

You’re going to be the death of him—this he’s finally sure of.

The fat head of his cock batters your poor, abused pussy with the vigor of someone who’s been waiting for you all his life. Chan babbles out a mantra of compliments and praise all strung together in a haze of pleasurable delirium as your nails start to rake across his back.

“Want you to be mine forever,” he sighs against your lips—his hot breath fanning against your face. “Can I have you? For the rest of my life?”

Even in the throes of passion, the answer comes to you so easily.

“I’m yours,” you cry out as he angles his cock just right and grazes the spot that makes you see stars. “I’m yours, Chan. Always yours. Forever yours.”

Your mind crumbles as your release crests out of nowhere—coherence draining from every recess of your mind while Chan fucks you through your high. He snaps his hips unforgivingly as he chases his own orgasm. His fingers leave red imprints on your thighs with how firmly they dig into your supple flesh and they stay there even when he finally pinpoints his release.

The two of you collapse onto the mattress with shallow breaths, sweat-slicked skin sticking to each other with how close your bodies are. When your mind finally returns to the shores of reality, you dare to crack your eyes open—only to see your best friend looking back at you with a tired smile.

This is the man who saw you cry over a stick fort that he accidentally stepped on when you were kids.

The one who thinks you’re still pretty even when your face is rife with tears and snot.

The one who skips stones with you in the river at sunset.

The one who keeps you warm by the fireplace during every winter.

The one who defended you from classmates who accused you of being a fraud that rode on her father’s coattails.

The one you’ll gladly spend the rest of your life with.

You think you should find it strange how Joshua suddenly comes to mind now that you’re finally where you want to be. But if it weren’t for him, you never would’ve gotten that final push to be selfish—to choose yourself for once and not feel any ounce of remorse for doing so.

If it weren’t for him, you never would’ve felt what true happiness feels like.

“So…” your best friend starts as he pulls a blanket over your naked bodies. “For tonight’s pillow talk, you get to decide the topic of interest.”

You snort. “Okay. What are my choices?”

“Hm. The first is: what are we going to do now that we’re together-together when the entire kingdom still thinks you’re still Prince Joshua’s fiancé? You still owe me a story about how the engagement fell through, by the way. Unless I’m actually a homewrecker…?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully slap his chest. “What’s the second option?”

He grins at you cheekily. “What pet names can I use on you while we’re having sex because…I honestly held back the entire time ‘cause I didn’t know what you were comfortable with.”

“I don’t really mind anything,” you say. “Just…nothing too degrading?”

“Alright.” Chan nods. “What do you say about lovebug?”

The suggestion is met with a scowl, making Chan giggle underneath the covers.

“Not a fan? How about my little dew drop? My chrysalis blooming into a beautiful butterfly? My hundred year-old tree that never ceases to amaze me with your beauty? My spectacle in an endless galaxy? My—”

“Lee Jung Chan, if you don’t shut up right now, I might just march back to the capital right this moment after all.”

Chan responds to your threat with a needy whine as he cages you around his arms. Your best friend nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck with a sulky pout.

“No! You’re mine. I don’t care if everyone else thinks otherwise.” He huffs and you entertain him with a laugh before Chan eventually disentangles himself from you—the playful expression on his face morphing into something more sobering.

“I was serious about the first pillow talk suggestion, by the way,” he murmurs. “Once the news breaks out, it isn’t going to be easy for any of us.”

“I know.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalance. “Hm? You’re usually the type to psych yourself out way too much when problems like this arise. Who are you and what did you do to my worrywart of a best friend?”

Paying his teasing no mind, you lean in to press your lips to his. The moment Chan’s shoulders sink in surrender, you smile against his mouth.

“Honestly? I don’t really care about what happens,” you admit, tracing the outline of his chest with your finger. “As long as I’m with you, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chan is quiet for a while—a loving look glazing over his eyes at the sight of you.

“Yeah.”

Your best friend presses another kiss to your temple, lacing your fingers together.

Two forget-me-nots finally find their way back to each other.

“We’ll be alright.”

⟢ end notes: and that concludes the longest oneshot i've ever written for a seventeen member :') honestly considered breaking this into parts, but decided not to in the end bcs telling their story in one go felt like the best way to go about it! shoutouts to my good buddies and pals from svthub for the constant support and pep talk they offered while i was writing this monster of a fic. freya, my bridgerton sunbae, and zeta, my favorite wonwoorideul (real), thank you tons for your lovely input <3 your silly comments on the doc always made me smile. ofc i won't forget nana who gave me an...interesting list of pet names chan would unironically use on his s/o lol that said, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoy the other fics posted under the spring collab! all writers who contributed poured their hearts into each piece <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #dino smut #lee chan smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #📖 collabs #full length fic 📚#🐇 i always need queue

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xonavia · 2 months

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Heya^^ can we get some headcanons about blue lock characters (pref Bachira, Chigiri and Kaiser) over hearing how their crush (reader) has a crush on them

Of course you can exclude any character if it's too much^^ anyways hope you'll have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate!

-> Awww yess!! and to your other message, Thank you so much!! and you make sure to drink some water as well!!

Bachira -> Is hella giddy afterwards!! -> Runs over to you the minute you're alone and starts hugging you, Manz is not letting go anytime soon -> Of course your prob confused as hell but once he explains that he overheard you this could either go one of three ways -> You can either be embarrassed, which he finds adorable and will tease you a little -> You could get excited that he feels the same way, which will result in him getting even more excited and spontaneously taking you out on a date somewhere without even thinking -> Or you could just shrug it off, which will result in him trying to get a reaction out of you and if you still don't then he'll just pull you along somewhere with him Chigiri -> A little surprised but overall nonchalant about it -> Like Bachira, will go over towards you once the people you were talking to leave, but unlike Bachira he won't actually say anything until way later on -> I'm talking like he kinda just asked if you weren't busy if you wanted to hang out and maybe get dinner later -> Again could go one of two ways -> First option being you being hella confused, like you only talked every once in a while with him and yet now he was asking you out?? Then he'll tell you that he by chance overheard you -> Or you can be excited, I mean your crush just asked you out and you've never really talked and if you say yes then he'll tell you later at dinner or something like that when it comes up on why he asked you out Kaiser -> Hella happy on the inside, on the outside however, just a smirk -> Will walk over to you when you're around the people you told as they all "ooooo" at his arrival, and then he hits you with the "I heard you were talking about me, Liebling~?" -> The rest of the people who had just been there had already walked off waving goodbye at you when they heard Kaiser speak up, probably knowing it was the fact he overheard you talking about your crush on him -> Will openly flirt with you the rest of the day before he asks you on a date or you accept his date request -> Either you can say yes, and he'll give you his number and then pick you up later in his nice ass sports car (I mean man makes a lot-) and take you some place wayyy to nice for an average high school aged kid -> Or you can keep saying no, until he just shows up at your house (Def didn't get it from one of your friends who totally ships you two) and then whisk you away anyway

#blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #bachira meguru #meguru bachira x reader #bachira x reader #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #xonavia's writings!

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leclercss · 7 months

Text

Tainted Love, Part 8 (Charles Leclerc ft Lewis Hamilton)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: this is going to be the second last chapter but my emotions are real.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @ironmaiden1313, @ru-kru, @buendiabebeta, @flwr-quicksilver, @ravioli19, @julesandro, @hornedravenclaws, @thatobsessedreader @pinkangelavenue, @queenofshinigamis, @notleclerc, @paullinne, @bisexualbith, @tempo-rary-fix, @bbygrlllllll, @teenagedreams-cl, @lunamelona, @leclerc16s, @palomaxaxaxa

Your eyes remained glued on your phone, as they have done for the most part these last three days.

All fixed on the "Read" underneath your message. You're not really sure what else you're expecting really. For him to respond to you after that shit show? You must have been out of your mind if you thought that Charles would ever want to speak to you again. If the roles were reversed, you'd have done the same thing. But he loved you, so surely this was worth talking through?

Here you were again, stuck between delusion and heart break. It's the only placed you'd been since Lewis slammed the taxi door in your face. And in a fucked up way, it's the only place that comforts you because facing the reality of your situation feels so much worse.

Your tragic trip down memory lane is interrupted by Whitney placing your McDonalds on your lap. It's been your forth one since you arrived at her apartment on Sunday evening, when you could no longer stare at the front door anxiously waiting for Lewis to come home.

"Have you heard from Lewis?" Whitney asks as if she's been reading your mind.

"No," your response is practically a grunt.

Whitney bites her bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before she asks her next question.

"Have you heard from Charles?"

"No".

She pauses again.

"Have yo-"

You interrupt her with a loud sigh and Whitney takes the hint to stop asking you questions that are any way related to the shit show of your life right now. Since you had arrived at her apartment four days ago, with a weekend bag and a stream of tears in tow, you'd barely spoken. Well, you'd barely spoken after you finally told Whitney everything. And that meant everything.

She'd poured you a large glass of wine (or two) when you began to explain the last twelve months of your life. From when yours and Lewis' relationship began to change, to your suspicions of Lewis sleeping with other women, to you confronting Lewis about working on your relationship, to Lewis' genius solution to your marriage woes by suggesting an open relationship, to Lewis taking full advantage of that arrange me before you finally had enough with your constant arguments with Lewis.

And then, on that infamous girls night out where you kissed Charles, and, unbeknownst to Whitney, you spent that night with him, then there was the Joris birthday party shenanigans, to Lewis' sudden awakening and the reconciliation of your marriage on the very same night of Joris' party. Then you somehow found yourself juggling both relationships seamlessly all up until your birthday when Charles whisked you a way for the best weekend of your life when you declared that you were falling in love with each other. And finally, a week later, Lewis was treating you to the most extravagant birthday yet until you found yourself at the dinner from hell where your both your marriage and your relationship fell to pieces.

Fuck, did this all really happen within the space of 12 months?

Whitney watched on as you spilled the truth on the chaos that was your life, through the tears and snot that streamed down your face. She didn't say anything, she just took in all of the information while filling up your glass with wine the second it became empty. She wasn't sure how to process all of this. There was just so much information to unpack and while she had some inclination that you weren't telling her certain things about your relationship with Lewis, she could have never imagined that this would be the situation.

And, Charles?

Yes, she knew that you had kissed him that night and yes, she teased you about it every now and again. But being in love with him? Having a full on relationship with him? Let's just say it wasn't on her 2023 bingo card. This was some soap-opera level shit.

But then she thought about it a little more, during your many hours of silence between the two of you in the last few days, that maybe there were some signs when it came to Charles. You'd always tensed up whenever she mentioned him. At first she thought it was the embarrassment from kissing him on that night out, and the fact that you regretted your actions since you were still so invested in your relationship with Lewis.

There was a couple of times when Whitney had suggested that the two of you meet with the guys for a few drinks but you'd always come up with an excuse. Actually, come to think of it, you'd only come up with an excuse when you realised that Charles would be present. Did a drunken kiss from months ago really upset you that much? she'd thought at the time.

But then Whitney thought about it a little bit more. It wasn't just you that had acted weird, it was Charles and Joris too. Charles' cheeks would always flush whenever your name was mentioned. And Joris would always look at Charles for a reaction. That was pretty innocent. Maybe Charles was just a little embarrassed about your kiss and Joris teased him about it too.

But then Whitney would remember the look on Charles' face whenever she'd turn up at the pre-arranged drinks on her own. She'd told the guys that you were at home or out with your husband and Charles just had this bizzare look on his face before spending the rest of the evening looking like a lost puppy and would spend most of the time on his phone. Wait, had he been texting you the whole time?

Despite him being single, she never saw him with other girls. He never seemed the faintest bit interested. And that always surprised Whitney as someone with who looked like Charles did definitely got a lot of attention. She'd seen it first hand the way girls would throw themselves at him. But he'd always shrug them off. He just wasn't interested.

There was that one time when Charles turned up completely out of the blue when the two of you were out with a couple of friends and Joris decided to tag along. Yourself and Charles had said hello and greeted each other with a polite hug but the two of you were just so awkward. For two adults in their mid to late twenties, it was almost comical the way the two of you acted around one another. Like a pair of school kids being forced to be around their secret crush.

Whitney had briefly noticed the lustful looks Charles had given you all evening. It was almost kind of weird the way he'd look at you, hoping to catch your attention, especially when he knew your were married. At one point, herself and Joris had to hold back their laughter when Charles so obviously glared at the random guy who had bought you a drink at the bar. It was all just an innocent crush, right? Come to think of it, the two of you did leave the bar in quick succession that night…

As for Joris, well Whitney had asked him about Charles a few times. Did he have any women on the go? Was he open to dating? But Joris just shrugged it off, said that Charles was a bit of an odd ball when it came to women. There was someone that he was really into but it was a touchy subject so they weren't allowed to bring it up. Turns out it was you that was the touchy subject.

As for spending time with Joris, he more often than not suggested for him to go to Whitney's place when they were hooking up. He'd made up some excuse that the guys were sick of hearing one another having sex and they kind of made a rule to keep sex at the flat strictly to nights of parties or when it was 100% sure that the other guys wouldn't be around. She never thought a group of guys would care about something like that but apparently it was a French thing. Or so Joris had said.

Whitney came to understand very quickly that it was all a cover up for you and Charles to spend time together. She'd called Joris yesterday to ask him what the fuck had been going on. He'd explained everything, or at least everything he knew. And when Whitney asked about how Charles was managing, the silence from Joris' end of the phone told her everything.

Whitney sighed, "He really loves her that much?"

"He does".

She felt sorry for Charles but she also felt sorry for you. Yes, you'd found yourself in this mess. And you had made so many mistakes from what she’d heard. But she firmly believed that none of this would have happened if it wasn't for Lewis and his stupid ego. Whitney felt validated in her dislike for Lewis. Yes, he was hot, rich, successful and apparently was great in bed but his personality was just so ... bland. There was just a surface layer to him, never any substance other than how what he showed on the outside. Behind the tattoos and the ridiculous fashion was an insecure man who only seemed to care about you when your attention was on somebody else.

She thought back to the time that Lewis proposed to you. After the wild sex and love bombing naturally died down and it was time for the two of you to to build a foundation, you'd started to get a bit irritated at the lack of effort from Lewis’s side. Your relationship with Lewis looked like it was running its course and so you had decided to go on a date with some guy just to test the waters, to see if there was a better guy for you out there. But that experiment had ended pretty quickly. As soon as you had started to date anyone else, Lewis was very quickly back in the picture and seemed more invested than ever. Whitney had expressed her concerns to you about his newfound interest but you ignored her, you were blind to whatever Lewis did. And so, Lewis locked in your attention for the long term by proposing just a few months later and that was that.

You had fallen for it and you fell for him even harder. And now, four years later, you had found yourself in the same cycle. This time with more catastrophic consequences. It seemed like your marriage was over, and sadly your relationship with Charles.

"Do you hate me?"

Whitney's head quickly turned in your direction. Your eyes were glued to the TV. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills had captured your attention and you were shoving a dozen McDonald's fries into your mouth. It's the first time you'd sparked up a conversation since taking refuge on her sofa a couple of days ago.

"What? No, I don't hate you," Whitney sighed. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know," you mumble as you continue to be captivated by the tv screen. "I've been a pretty shitty friend. Lied to you for months and then coming running to you when it all goes tits up".

Whitney felt her stomach sink. "[Y/N], I could never hate you," she began. "Yes, I'm upset that you didn't tell me what was going on. You know me. Yes, I have my opinions and I know you don't always want to hear it but at the very least I would have never wanted you to go through this alone. I hate seeing you like this".

For the first time in a while, your eyes move away from the tv screen. and you're staring at the McDonalds that's in your lap. You're fighting to hold back the tears.

"I know. I should have told you. I was so scared that you'd judge me. I know you've never liked Lewis all that much," you stop to wipe your nose, "And this whole open marriage crap was doomed from the start but I really thought that if I said yes, he would see how much he really loved me and that I was willing to do anything for him”.

You fall silent. The only sound in the room coming from Lisa Rinna throwing a glass a table. That damn dinner in Amsterdam.

Don’t you ever go after my fucking husband.

Whitney isn't sure what to say, so she waits for you to continue.

"I want to hate him for this whole thing, you know. He was the one fucking other people first but we both made a promise that we would never hurt each other. I was always sure he'd be the one to hurt me but I'm the one that hurt him".

Whitney jumps out of her seat to console you and you let yourself sob in her arms. Hearing you speak about your relationship like this made her heart break. Maybe you weren't as blind to Lewis' behaviour as she thought.

"[Y/N], he has to take some of the responsibility in this. He stepped out on you first and he asked you to commit to something that you were uncomfortable with. He used your feelings for him against you," Whitney tells you. Her hand soothing your back. Your sobs become even louder.

"That's why I'm angry at him. He pushed me away and I fell in love with someone else because of it. But why do I feel so guilty?"

Whitney sighs, "Because you still want him to love you, like you always have".

Silence falls again for a few moments.

"[Y/N], do you still love Lewis?"

You nod. And then there’s silence again.

"Can I ask you something?"

You lift your head off her chest and look up at her. Your eyes red, skin all blotchy. You look so innocent and child-like in her arms. You don't answer her but your silence is enough of a yes for Whitney to ask you her next question.

"Who are you more sad about losing? Lewis or Charles?"

Not long after you had finished your conversation with Whitney, she had tucked you into her bed for some well needed rest.

Her heart ached for you and she felt guilty. Guilty that she had made her dislike for Lewis so apparent that you were too scared to tell her the true state of your relationship. The only thing she was grateful for was that Lewis hadn’t gotten you pregnant through out your relationship, it was the only way that this situation could be worse than it already was.

She was so angry and frustrated that it had gone so far. An open marriage, who the fuck does this guy think he is?, she had thought to herself. And he gets to act like he's the victim? This man had some serious audacity.

She secretly enjoyed the fact that Lewis felt so threatened by Charles that he made himself look like a right dick at your birthday. She'd have loved to have seen his face when the ball dropped and he realised that Charles, the man you loved, was just a metre or so away from him. Karma was a funny thing.

But the more Whitney got lost in the rabbit hole of finding new ways to find pleasure in Lewis' misery, the more she realised that whatever her feelings were towards Lewis or Charles or this entire series of unfortunate events, she couldn't let your heart break any more. If she couldn’t have prevented all of this mess from happening before, she was going to try and fix some of it for you.

And so, with your conversation from before at the front of her mind, she decided to send out a text.

Probably a bit of a surprise that this message is coming from me but I love [Y/N] more than anybody and I know you probably don’t want to see her right now.

I can’t imagine how angry and hurt you are but she never wanted this to happen. I can see how much she really loves you and I know that you love her too.

You two need to talk. You can’t fix this otherwise and you deserve that chance to fix your relationship.

I haven't seen her this bad in a very long time. Can you please come and talk to her? She's staying at mine.

And it turns out Whitney’s text worked. Not long after she got a response.

Sure, I can come by tonight?

And so he did.

Whitney didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes as she opened the front door. The skin underneath his eyes were dark and it looked like he had spent the last few days crying, almost as much as you had been.

“Thanks for coming, I know it couldn’t have been easy coming here,” Whitney said. Her voice soft, whatever she was feeling, seeing him in person like this made her feel guilty. And she didn't even do anything wrong.

He just grunted in response.

“Come in,” Whitney said, stepping aside to allow him into the flat. “She’s just asleep at the moment but I thought it was important that you guys talk.”

He nods. “You said she’s been in a bad way?”

Whitney nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it hasn’t been this bad since her dad passed. Today was the first day that she’s properly spoken since she told me what happened when she arrived on Sunday”.

She pauses for a moment.

"She might smell of McDonalds when you see her though. It's all she's been willing to eat," her attempt at making a light-hearted joke doesn't clear the awkwardness in the room.

He’s just staring at the ground, hands shoved into his pockets. He doesn’t really want to be here, but somewhere deep down he believes he owes it to you. If Whitney was reaching out, it was definitely something worth listening to. Even if they didn't have much of a relationship.

“What did she say today?”

Whitney sighs softly, “I think it’s for her to say”.

He nods again.

“Can I see her?”

This time Whitney nods, “Sure. The bedroom is just the door on the right”.

He mumbles a thanks and heads down the short hallway. He takes a moment outside of the bedroom and Whitney watches his movements. He’s nervous as he takes a deep breath before stepping into the bedroom.

You feel the presence of somebody taking a seat on the bed beside you but you’re slow to respond. You assume it’s Whitney coming to check on you and so you just tell yourself to go back to sleep.

The person beside you stays still for a while. You can feel their eyes on you but you try not to let it disturb you. It’s the first time you’ve properly slept in days.

It’s a few minutes later before the person on the bed decides to lay down beside you, their body ever so close to yours.

You let out a groan. “Whitney, I love you but I don’t feel like spooning right now”.

You hear a dry chuckle beside you, like they’re forcing themselves to laugh.

“It’s not Whitney”.

Your eyes immediately open and you turn to face the person that’s in the bed beside you. The room is dark but you don't need to see him to know who it is. You know that voice so well.

“Charles,” you whisper.

You can’t believe that he’s here beside you and so you reach out to touch him to make sure that it’s really him here with you and not just a part of your dream.

He’s real. And he’s here beside you, letting your hand rest on his cheek as you search for his eyes in the darkness.

“What are you doing here?”

“Whitney messaged me. She said that you weren’t in a good place,” Charles responds.

“She messaged you?”

“Yeah, I was pretty surprised as we don't really speak much but she felt like we needed to talk”.

You smile softly. Grateful for your best friend but also grateful that Charles’ hasn’t decided to stomp on your heart. Or so he hasn’t yet.

“I’m surprised I’m here, to be honest. Joris would kill me if he knew I came to see you,” he chuckles but he doesn’t find it funny. He finds it painful actually to think of how much is best friend despises you. It wasn’t all your fault though, not in Charles’ eyes.

“When Joris had booked the Salt Bae restaurant for Saturday, I thought that the bill was going to be the most shocking thing that evening but I’d have paid for 50 of those ridiculous gold steaks if it meant I didn't have to sit through that dinner,” Charles continues. As the level of uncomfortableness rises in the room, your hand falls from his cheek and you find yourself wrapping you arms around your legs for comfort.

You don’t know what to say. Where do you even begin?

Charles fills the silence for you. “Lewis would have been pretty happy to buy 50 of those steaks the way he was splashing this cash that night,” Charles’ voice is laced in annoyance and disgust.

You cringe at the memory of Lewis’ over-the-top behaviour that night. But that’s not what leaves your mouth.

“It feels weird to hear you talking about him,” you whisper, you can’t believe this is the thing that you say out of all the things you could say. It just felt so strange hearing Charles mention Lewis by name.

Charles scoffs, “What? Your husband? I’m just amazed he didn’t end up bending you over the table and fucking you in front of me but he was definitely making a good go of it. I felt sorry for the couple who was at the table with you who had to hear that cringey naked chef story”.

His tone is getting angrier the more he speaks.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” you can barely hear your own voice. You feel like a coward for not saying more but you honestly don't know how to get your words out. You can’t read the expression on Charles’ face because you can’t see him through the darkness. So you just let him do the talking.

“I’m just surprised that you’d be married to someone like that, you know. So obnoxious and so vulgar,” he spits, “acting like he’s got the biggest dick in the room. I wanted to punch his fucking face in".

You've never heard Charles speak like this before, with so much hatred and venom in his voice. It looks like Lewis' antics had gotten under his skin after all. You couldn't blame Charles for feeling this way though, Lewis did everything in his power to emasculate Charles that day.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you did," you whisper. You reach out for Charles in the dark, you hand resting on his arm. He tenses up a little but he doesn't pull away which reassures you that he can't hate you that much if he's letting you touch him.

"He's not worth it. What kind of a man is he anyway? Cheats on his wife for months and then throws the toys out of his pram when he finds someone who actually loves her for her," he huffs.

But it's those last few words that fill you wish some warmth and gives you the courage to ask Charles the following question, "Do you still love me, Charles?"

You feel him place a hand on top of yours in the dark.

"As much as everyone doesn't want me to, I can't stop loving you, [Y/N]," he responds. His voice is the softest it's been since he came into Whitney's room.

"Do you hate me?" God you've had to ask that question one too many times today.

"I don't hate you, amour. I hate that you married a guy like him. Yeah, he's good looking and rich or whatever but he's an asshole. You deserve so much better than that," he pauses his mini rant and takes a deep breath, "Look, I knew you were married when we first got involved so I've only got myself to blame. But since the night that we met, I haven't spent a day not thinking about you".

It sounds weird but Charles thinks that he can hear you smile in the dark.

"You just called me amour".

You can't keep the smile to yourself and a sense of relief washes over you at the sound of him calling you that special pet name.

"You'll always be my amour, even if you are married to a man with shitty tattoos," Charles grunts but the tension seems to leave his body and he pulls you towards him in dark, somehow pulling you into a hug and your head is resting on his chest.

"I'm so sorry Charles, I never wanted this to happen," you whisper. "You never deserved any of that. I thought I'd have lost you, especially when you hadn't responded".

Charles sighs, "I know. I just needed some time".

His fingers find their way into your hair and begins to lightly stroke you hair, resting his chin on the top of your head.

You just lay in each other's arms, taking in the smell and feeling of each other. You don't want to let you because if you do, you're so afraid that he'll come to his senses and run from you. But he doesn't seem to want to let go of you either, and you remain content in each other's arms.

Eventually, he breaks the silence.

"Have you spoken to him?"

You hesitate for a moment, but decide to tell him the truth, "No. He doesn't want to speak to me. After dinner, I got in the Uber and he didn't get in. And then he never came home. I messaged him when I got here to let him know I'd be here for the forseeable, so he can make sure that Roscoe is taken care of".

Charles hums as his response but he doesn't say much.

"I'm pretty sure he hates me," you're not sure why you've said this, especially to Charles of all people.

"He probably just hates himself," Charles is honest with his response. You look up at him in the dark.

"Really?"

"Maybe he hates you a little. But he I think he hates me the most," Charles chuckles. "But I don't mind though, he's the one that fucked himself. And if he wasn't so selfish, you wouldn't be here with me right you".

And in the dark, you feel Charles warm breath hit your face before his lips find yours. The kiss is gentle and neither of you really know what to do next. The both of you couldn't imagine you being in this place just a mere two hours ago. And so you savour the moment for what it is before the both of you slowly pull away from the kiss.

Charles' breath catches in his throat a little, as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. And so you stay in each others arms a little while longer.

You're not sure how much time has passed, you're pretty sure that the two of you fell into a light sleep at some point. But as you begin to stir in Charles' arms, he finally finds the courage to say what he's been holding in.

"I want to be with you, [Y/N]. But I need more than a half of you," he begins. He waits for some sort of response from you but all you manage is to sit up and look at him.

He lets out a little sigh. You're waiting for him to finish, almost as if you're waiting for him to tell you what to do. To tell you how you can fix this.

"I think we have a good chance at things but my first mistake was thinking that I could be okay with you being married. Even if he wasn’t entirely in the picture, he’s still there. And he won’t let you go without a fight. You know, I thought half of you would be better than all of you. But maybe I need to be more like Lewis and be selfish. And so, if you want us to work," he pauses, making sure that you're still fixated on him, “I need to know that things are over between you and Lewis".

All you can do is gulp as the consequences of your actions begin to sink in.

It was time to make a decision - Lewis or Charles? The longer you waited to make your choice, the more likely you’ll lose the both of them forever.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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indigosunsetao3 · 27 days

Text

The Date

Warnings: Jealousy, Manipulation, Smut

Third expansion of the Ex Husband Price list.

The lawn was out of hand. You had been letting it grow, not bothering to venture out to the shed to even pretend to know how to use the mower. John would show up and take care of it like he always did, even if you told him not to. You had the sense that he was letting it go on until you cracked and called him but you wouldn't, not this time. He would have to be the one that gave him.

But then you received a deposit in your bank account. It was the exact amount John sent you via check. You find it odd; he always sent a check just to agitate you. But you woke up with an email alert one morning that the money had arrived at 12:01 in the morning. Maybe he was out of town for work. Fine. You'd just wait for the next check and keep watching the weeds and lawn grow.

Then the next check came via deposit two weeks later. The email alert was once again at 12:01 in the morning. It was as if it were on schedule to automatically draft out of his account to yours. That sets your nerves on edge a bit. He wasn't sending checks and he had set up an automatic payment.

Then an anonymous letter in your mail box a few days later made you realize you really had to do something with the lawn. Apparently some neighbors were 'concerned' about the overgrowth and wanted to inquire as to if you 'needed assistance'. It was enough to piss you off that you debated on just leaving it for another month just to make them even more 'concerned'. But in the end you hired the teenage boy down the street to clean it up and give him an extra large tip for how much of a mess it was.

After six weeks of silence from John you finally gave in. He had never been quiet this long. Even when you were freshly divorced and he was deep in a mission he always reached out one way or another. You stare at the phone trying to figure out who to call after three calls to him go right to voicemail. His parents are long dead, no siblings to speak of and you had only met a distant cousin once at the wedding. You tried Gaz, he had always been the most reasonable of John's men. But he didn't answer. The call at least rang a few times before going to voicemail so his phone wasn't off and he didn't decline it. You don't leave a message.

By week nine you've become desperate. You drove by John's apartment to see his truck is parked outside of it but by the looks of it, it's been there a while. You circled back a few more times over the following days and it doesn't move. There are also never any lights on inside his place.

At week ten, against your better judgement, you try Ghost. His Lieutenant had always been a stand off guy but Price had told you in the very beginning if something happened to him Simon would be the one in contact.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings. The automated voice for his voicemail box answers up and you hesitate before leaving a very brief message asking him to have John call you. You make up a lie about an issue with John's payments to you, before hanging up. Simon never calls you back, and neither does John.

Three months have gone by and now you're mad. No one has reached out to you. Not a single call returned. You had even gone as far to dig through old files of John's you still had that he never picked up to try and find other contacts. Not a single person picks up or returns messages. No emails are ever answered and you've run out of options.

Every twos week though, John's money is deposited into your account like clockwork at 12:01 in the morning. You think that has to be a good sign, that he is fine because the money would run out eventually.

It's a false hope. You know how much money John has from his work. Those deposits could continue without him adding more money to his bank account for years to come. But if he was dead, surely they'd freeze his assets? Someone would reach out to you as next of kin since you were all that was left of his family. Even if you were the ex-wife.

Maybe he really was done this time. Maybe he decided you weren't worth the time or effort. You had been the one to ask for divorce, to have him served the papers and hounded him to sign them. You should be happy that he finally cut ties, that he was moving on which meant you also needed to move on.

Fine.

The dating pool is dismal. You finally download a few dating apps after your friends give you recommendations and it's a nightmare. The men on there are all too young for your taste or, after a bit of internet stalking, you find they are actually still married and looking for some action on the side. Then the ones you think may actually work end up boring, lack any sort of personality or they just disappear after talking for a few days.

Three failed dates makes you think you need to give it up. Maybe dating wasn't for you, at least not right now.

But finally one of them clicks. Luca. He's attractive enough, the reason you had swiped right on him to start, even if a few years younger. You talk for a bit, play the game of getting to know one another over text and eventually level up to some flirtatious pictures. It's fun. He always greets you in the morning with a good morning text and keeps the conversation going throughout the day. He's paid you much more attention than any other guy has for what seems like months.

You keep your options open though. Finding that a few men have shown interest in you and you match with a couple of them as well. No need to tie yourself down, not yet. You had just gotten out of a marriage, commitment was not at the top of your list. You chat with them, keeping the conversation going...yet you find you are neglecting a few of them in favor of talking to Luca. They don't quiet disappear, some actually strangely persistent which boosts your confidence a bit more after all the other failures.

Four months of John being gone and you are going out on a date that you are actually excited about.

Luca had arranged the whole thing; an art exhibit, drinks and dinner. He insists on picking you up, arriving with flowers, and opens the car door for you. The art is mediocre in your opinion, but you weren't there for that. You were there for Luca who is attentive to anything you could potentially want or need. He orders top shelf drinks at the small hole in the wall lounge and makes sure your table at the restaurant is tucked in the back so you can talk in privacy.

By the end of the night you decide you're taking him home with you; and not just because he's the one driving. On the car ride back, with a pleasant buzz vibrating through your body, you slide your legs open a bit wider when Luca rests his hand on your thigh. He grins to himself but doesn't verbally let on that he's noticed. Instead he gently swipes his thumb over the soft skin there, letting his hand venture a few inches higher every time he returns to touching you after shifting gears in his sporty little car.

When he takes the exit toward your house you offer for him to come in for a nightcap, which he agrees to. His pinky gently swipes over the lace of your underwear, his hand so far up your skirt he barely has to move. It's chaste as if to test the waters after all the teasing. You grin at him, resisting grabbing his wrist to guide him to fully you touch you as he pulls into your driveway.

"Is the lace for-" he paused as he throws his car into neutral and pulls the brake. "Who is that?" His eyes are locked out the windscreen and you twist to look at what he's seeing, you had been too busy watching him drive to even look at your house.

There in the headlights is a man standing by a truck. You know that truck, and you know that man.

John.

Four months of nothing and here he was, leaning casually against his vehicle as if you were late to meet him. The relief that floods you to see that he is actually alive is soon replaced by anger. How fucking dare he. Four months of radio silence. No calls, no emails, no one reaching out to return your increasingly desperate messages. And now this, of all the nights.

"John," you say as you stare at Price. Your hand gently pushes Luca's off your leg, as if afraid John will see.

John doesn't move from his casual position as he looks toward the car. The cigar in his left hand flares bright as inhales and the gesture is calm, but you know him. You can practically feel the seething anger from this far away.

"Who is he?" Luca asks, his voice a little unnerved as he watches John. John is staring daggers right at Luca even if he couldn't really see in the car thanks to the bright LED headlights. "Do we need to call the authorities?"

"What?" You stammer tearing your eyes from John back to him. "Oh no. He's my ex husband," you explain and Luca's eyes widen in disbelief. You had told him you were recently divorced so that wasn't the shocking part, it was more the fact your larger than life ex was sitting there like a dad waiting for his kid that was late for curfew. "He must have just gotten back from deployment. I have no idea why he's here."

"Deployment," Luca repeats back, his eyes darting between you and John, obviously a bit nervous. John still hasn't moved, he's still taking his time savoring his stupid cigar. "If he's your ex, why is he at your house then?"

"I have no idea," you say truthfully. "But I fully intend to find out and send him on his way. Bastard thinks he can ignore me for four months then show up as he pleases," you seethe as you grab your clutch from the floor.

"Do you need me to-" Luca starts as he reaches for his keys as if he were going to climb out the car with you.

"No!" You say a bit too fast, "no it's alright. No need for you to deal with my mess," you smooth over. Truth is you are fairly certain John would murder Luca if he even moved to open the drivers side door.

"I'll call you in the morning. Make sure everything is alright?" Luca asks, actually seemingly a bit relieved you told him no to getting out with you. He doesn't seem impressed by the whole situation but his self preservation keeps him from saying or doing anything else.

"Yes, please. I really did have a nice night," you say genuinely. You do not want John to ruin the one good thing that has happened to you in a long time. He wasn't going to win everything, damn it.

Just as you lean over to press a kiss to Luca's cheek you see John adjust. John pushes up from the truck and takes one last long drag of the cigar before throwing it into the darkness of the lawn. Asshole. You had actually been paying to maintain the stupid thing and he's just discarding his things around like he owns the place.

And, as if he did truly own the place, John walks up to your house and produces a key to let himself in. He doesn't look back as he walks inside and shuts the door, though a second later the porch light clicks on for you.

"Talk to you in the morning," Luca says, though his tone doesn't sound promising. Fucking hell if John took this away from you, you were going to murder him yourself.

Scrambling out of the car you shut the door, not bothering to look back, as you stomp up the front walkway. You need to deal with John right now, you can fix things with Luca later.

The front door is unlocked as you bang it open and you slam it shut behind you before yelling out for John. He doesn't answer.

The downstairs is still dark but the light in the upstairs hallway is on so you know that is where he's gone. Throwing your clutch onto the couch, the stupid fucking couch that you hadn't bought a cover for yet, you proceed upstairs. Your feet are screaming at the brutal steps you take and at the top you find your bedroom door is open, though the lights are off.

"John Price you better not being in MY goddamn bedroom," you snap as you walk over and swing the door open. He is. He's standing on the other side of the bed, one hand holding back the curtain to peer down at the street where Luca is driving away.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You yell as cross your arms over your chest. "Four months and you decide now is the time to show up? Fuck you John," your hands shake, as if in need to throw something at him. "Fuck you for disappearing and fuck all of your men for never returning a single message. I thought you were missing, thought you were dead," you continue to rant. "But you show up in my driveway like it's your house?" You laugh sarcastically. "I don't want you here, I want you out. You want to disappear from the face of the Earth? Then fucking disappear. Forever."

Your chest is heaving. All the hurt and pain from four months of worry had flown out of you before you really could think about it. And yet, and fucking yet, John just calmly watches you from his position by the window. His arms are crossed over his chest as he assesses you and you find yourself lifting your chin at his appraisal as if to dare him to say something.

"Worried about me, love?" He asks with a cocky smirk.

"Are you serious?" You snap as you gesture your arm for him to get out. "Go John, get out of my house. I don't want to see you. I don't want you here. And leave the key." You gesture again as he hasn't even moved from his spot.

"Gaz and Simon said you called," John says simply as he finally uncrosses his arms and moves around the edge of the bed toward you. "Laswell said you even dug up one of her alias emails to message her. Got my ass right chewed for leaving that lying around," he smirks as an embarrassed flush creeps up your chest.

"Well fuck her too for not answering me," you say, stepping a bit to the side as John gets closer. "And fuck you for thinking it's funny," you barely whisper.

"Never said it was funny," he answers as he crowds you between the dresser and wall. He's not too close, not yet, but just his presence makes you feel like you are suffocating under him. "Why did you call so much? Did you miss me?"

"I was worried," you finally say with an exasperated tone. "You were always just...around. Then you stopped showing up. Stopped sending the checks. I thought something had happened," you reason. "Just because I divorced you doesn't mean I want you dead," you pause, "well before. Now you can fuck right off. All of you can. Leaving me scared out of my mind, desperate for a scrap of news. Someone could have called me. But no. You decide to just, what, toy with me?" You reach out and shove his chest, the anger flaring back up, and move to go around him. "Just go John."

He catches your wrist though and he tugs you back to face him, spinning you on your heels so you stumble a few steps. You snap your arm back to get him to let go but he holds firm and then pulls you toward him, using your off balance stance to his advantage until you're pressed against him.

"I had work," John says simply, his other hand coming up to gently tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "You didn't seem too lonely though. Had a few dates it looks like," he smirks though it doesn't meet his eyes, his hand tilting your chin up to look at him. "Find anyone you fancy? How many boys you bring home?"

"Piss. Off." You snarl, mad at yourself for leaning into the gentle gesture he had given you before he went for the jugular like he always did. "What does it matter if I've been on dates? You left, not me."

"I left because you made me leave," John counters. "You filed for divorce. You always tell me to leave. You are the one who wanted me gone." He tilts his head to the side a bit, his signature move when he knows he's correct and dares you to fight him on it. You don't because he's right.

"You know why. You know why I filed," you start and when he doesn't answer you forge on. "Because your first love is your job, it's always your job. I can't be second to it. I can't be your after thought." You push at his chest with your hands but he holds you fast, even as you dig your nails into the fabric of his thin shirt. "And you did it again," you laugh though there is no humor in the sound. "Screw you, John, for assuming that I'd be okay being second best in your life."

"My duty is my job," John answers, "you knew that when all of this started. You accepted it when I warned you. You came back time and again when I tried to give you an out," he states, his tone starting to rise to anger now. "I tried to push you away, but you were persistent. You were determined to make me love you. Showing up on the damn base and nearly bowling Gaz over when he told you to leave because you knew I was in my office avoiding you." He pauses as you cut your eyes to him and you swear there's a hint of pride in his voice from that bold act.

"Then when I finally did allow myself to love you, against my own better judgement, that's when you decided you couldn't do it anymore. That you couldn't handle it. So, sweetheart, fuck you for making me love you then deciding you didn't want me anymore." He finishes with sarcasm but you can see the hurt behind his eyes. Always hiding his emotions, careful to keep that guard up and everyone at arms length, even you.

"I'm not having this conversation," you say after a second, tucking another stray hair behind your ear. This confession out of him had been the most honest one you had ever gotten. But you didn't want it right now. You wanted to be mad, wanted to be furious and to storm about the house in your rage. "You could have said all this before but it's too late now. Just like you are too late to get back this time. I've finally moved on." Lie.

"Is that why you practically shoved the pretty boy off you and followed me inside?" John asks quirking an eyebrow. "You could have easily just left. Yet you came after me and had him leave," he leans so his face is barely an inch away from yours. "Doesn't sound like you've moved on," he smirks.

"You went into my house, of course I am going to follow you! I also want to know where you get the damn audacity to just show up and act like nothing has happened." You snarl pushing again but his arms are like vices around you.

"Because, sweetheart, we both know nothing has happened." He reaches up and grabs one of the clips in your hair and pulls it free with a swift motion and tosses it to the ground. It's one he had given you, a gift from his many travels, and the green jeweled tip reflects in the dim light from the hallway as it falls to the floor. "I knew you'd follow me," he grabs the second one, the first ones twin, tossing to the floor as well. You feel your hair fall down the nape of your neck.

"You may have filed that paperwork, may storm and rant like a petulant child," he runs his hands through your freed hair, almost massaging your scalp as he shakes your hair loose, before grabbing a handful and yanking your head back causing you to gasp. "But you haven't moved on from me. You need me, miss me," he searches your eyes as you stare up at him. He knows he's won, he can see the way your eyes are searing into him, the way your breath hitches in anticpation.

He crushes your upturned lips with his, nearly sucking all the oxygen out of your lungs with the brutal assault before pulling back. "And you know I'm yours until the world burns to ash," he finishes, his lips grazing over yours as he talks.

You know he's right. You know that no matter what, John Price was going to be part of your life because he was yours and you were his. You had broken him down, made him love you and now there was no other option for either you. There was no life after John, not a real one anyway. Time and again you would come back to one another, through all the fights, the anger and pain it would still be the both of you.

You kiss him back with fervor, your fingers fisting his shirt in your hands and he doesn't waste time finding the zipper on your dress. He has it undone in a matter of seconds and he doesn't savor taking it off you. His hands are rough as he shoves the off the shoulder sleeves down further as you wriggle out of them, his booted feet kicking away the silky material without a second glance.

"Splurged for new lingerie for this date?" He mutters as he takes in the lacey matching number you had worn. "Poor Luca is missing out," he smirks as his hands slides down your sides before finding the delicate dark green lace. His fingers hook into the material before he pulls on them, hard. The tearing noise echoes around the room, followed by your offended gasp.

"John!" You snap as you look down at the tattered pieces on the floor. You hadn't even caught onto the fact he knew the name of your date without you ever mentioning his name. His eyes are racking over your freshly exposed lower body and you watch him raptly, enjoying the hunger in his face.

"Oops," he taunts. He would be damned if you kept lingerie you bought with another man in mind. "It was very pretty," he teases as he grinds his boot down knowing the dirt under them is marring the material beyond repair.

John pushes you back toward the bed, one hand snaking around your back to brace you as he bends you onto the mattress. You sigh into the kiss as his lips find yours again, your hands running along his back to grab at his shirt. You tug it up, pulling as far as you can before he assists you the rest of the way. He leans back and uses one arm to pull it over his head, exposing his tanned and toned chest and the soft stomach that hides the taut muscles underneath.

"Don't you dare," you threaten as his hands come down to the small joint of lace between your breasts. He doesn't listen. He yanks on the lace, jolting you up off the bed a bit in his strength, and rips the bra clean in half. "Damn it John," you say as he pushes the tattered pieces off your skin before your words turn into a groan as his calloused hands find your breasts and grab palmfuls of each.

"I'll buy you more," he answers simply as he bends down to kiss at your neck, his fingers pinching and teasing your nipples as you squirm. "Just for me," he warns as he bites down on the soft skin near your collarbone.

"Just you," you agree as his lips move to your sternum and up your right breast to lick teasingly at one of your nipples. You arch up, pushing him to continue, as his now free hand slides down your plush hips and leg. He's surprisingly gentle as he hooks one of his hands behind your knee and hikes it up, spreading you underneath him. His fingers trace long sweeping lines up and down the sensitive skin on the back of your thigh as you whine.

"I can already feel how wet you are," John says before he bites down on your abused nipple then moving to the other one. "Already down your legs," he continues as his other hand pushes your left leg up to match the right. You're completely spread, and pinned, under him and you can feel the roughness of his jeans barely pushing against your clit.

"Please," you whine as you try to push your hips up for some more friction, pressure, even if his belt buckle was dangerously close. He doesn't give it to you though, he pulls away slightly and you huff frustrated as your hands move to grab at his lower back and tug him down. He doesn't move his hips but he does relent and let his fingers swipe up your leg and right over your center.

"Because you asked so nicely," he answers, fingers teasing outside of your entrance as his palm grinds down against your clit. He adjusts so his face is hovering over yours, watching you as you twist your head to the side to try and breathe, your hand pushing your hair off your face. "So fucking needy for me," he says as he feels you try to bare down and push his fingers into you. "I love watching you like this. So desperate," he pushes your face with the hand that is braced near your head so you look up at him.

You don't give him a chance to talk more, your hands coming up behind his head and tugging him down to kiss you. Just as you open your mouth to let his tongue sweep in, he pushes a finger into you causing you to groan into him. He begins a slow and delicious pump, adding a second finger without warning, though it slides in without resistance.

"Always so ready for me," he praises as your hands scramble at his back. "What's the record for how fast I've gotten you to cum?" he teases as he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that soft spot, "five minutes?" He bites at your lip and tugs it gently. "I think I'm about to beat it. You've missed me," he smirks as he picks up the pace, letting you rock your hips in rhythm to his ministrations.

He wasn't wrong, you aren't sure how fast it was but you feel the snap of coiling tension release in your belly as John gently strokes your inner walls. It's pure bliss that you feel as you arch up on the bed, your body almost trying to get away from the sensation as he continues to push you through it. It's a good thing you didn't leave the bedroom window open when you left the house earlier or the whole street would have known with how loud you cried out.

While you come down you feel John pull his fingers out and you pant as he slides the two fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. You're staring at him blatantly, not bothering to even try to shy away and close your legs, as he moves to undo his belt. His eyes are boring into you as he slips out of his pants and kicks them away, he hadn't bothered with boxers this evening.

"Pretty little thing," he grins as his hand finds your center again and he runs his index finger over your center and clit, causing you to twitch a bit. He grabs your hips to yank you to the edge of the bed where he's standing. He rests one hand on your lower belly before the other grabs his own heavy, leaking, cock to guide it to your entrance.

He slides in with one easy thrust, not an ounce of resistance. Your body ached for him and it was more than ready to welcome him back home.

You both moan together as he bottoms out and with his hand pressing on your lower belly you know he can feel himself within you. He smirks as he pulls back and thrusts back in, his fingers clenching a bit over your soft skin at the sensation. He keeps up the slow movements, savoring the feel, enjoying watching your face as you rock along with each roll of his hips.

Soft and slow were a rarity between you, especially as of late, too desperate for one another to take your time. So it doesn't take long for him to increase his speed.

"Fuck John, fuck," you whine as he has both of your hips in his hands, pulling you down onto him as he fucks into you. You clench down as his expertly trained fingers find your clit again and he groans at the tension. "There, right--John," your words are a babbling, panting, mess as he pushes you toward that edge. But then he pauses and you drop your head back onto the bed from where you had bent up to watch him slide in and out of you. A frustrated groan leaving your lips; you were so damn close.

"Patience," John admonishes, "you've already had one." He smirks as he grabs your legs and pulls them up so your ankles are resting on his shoulders. In this position you feel him slide that fraction of an inch deeper and you gasp. You know you're going to be sore for days after this position but damn if it didn't feel good in the moment. And the soreness was more of a delicious ache, a sweet sting of a reminder of how John thoroughly wrecked you.

"There it is," he grinds out, more to himself than you. You know he can feel he's kissing your cervix. The pressure is a bit painful for a moment as he experimentally rocks, as if letting you prepare yourself. Satisfied you aren't whining in pain his hands grip your thighs like vices to hold you in place as he fucks you proper. "Fuck sweetheart, so fucking tight," he practically grunts out.

You don't have a response. Your hands are holding onto the comforter for dear life to keep yourself from being pushed to far back up the bed. Your throat is growing dry from the panting and groaning, unable to contain yourself as you feel his rigid head run rub against that spot over and over again. "John," you cry out, a warning and a plea.

"I know sweetheart," he answers, his tone comforting as he twists his head to softly kiss the inside of your ankle. "I can feel you-fuck," he breaks off speaking as you tense, arching up as if your body was a coiling spring getting ready to snap.

Two more rolls of his hips and you fall apart. Your hands grasp at his on your thighs, scrambling at his fingers for some sort of grounding. He loosens his grip just a bit and holds your fingers as you fall over the edge, whining his name as you feel him twitch inside you as he comes. The wet squelching sounds that fill the room as John rides out his orgasm are filthy, delicious and most importantly wonderful.

Your hands fall limply back down to the bed as you come down, John finally letting go of their painful grip on your thighs as he finishes. His hands are gentle as he lowers your shaking legs down from his shoulders and he bends down to kiss you. Careful to not pull out just yet, knowing that you savored that connection. Something that he had denied you these past few times in a cruel power move.

You kiss him a few times as he smooths the sweaty hair off your forehead and neck. You can feel the sheen of sweat down his back as you run your hands up and down the hard, scar marked skin. He doesn't move away from you as you pull him further down onto you and nuzzle against his neck, just breathing him in. You missed this, missed this second half of the intimacy with him. While the first half was always more fun, the second half was what sealed your connection. Something you hadn't felt with him in over a year.

"Get comfortable," John says after a few minutes of silence and you've laid back, shutting your eyes just enjoying the moment. He pulls out of you slowly and you snap your eyes open at that. Fear that he was leaving must have been evident in your eyes because he pauses, "I'm not going anywhere."

You nod, using your elbows and hands to move yourself up the bed and to dig at the blankets to get under them. John walks around to his side of the bed, the side you never touched, and slides in next to you. His hands smooth over your body as he tugs you tight against his chest, his face half buried in your hair as he holds you.

"I've missed you," he says quietly after a long while. A confession he would only let slip in the dark where you can't see his face, and one you potentially wouldn't hear.

You smile to yourself as you grip the back of his hand that is between your breasts a little tighter. An acknowledgement of his words, too tired to speak as you are on the brink of sleep. You feel him gently kiss the back of your shoulder before you slip into slumber.

John's phone lights up in his discarded jeans pocket an hour later. It's a text from Soap with the simple message "It's done." John checks the phone once he knows your asleep before curling back up behind you, leaving you none the wiser.

John had known all about your venture into the dating pool. He had his men monitoring your activity, using fake email accounts to corral you into a very specific algorithm; one that Alex Keller may or may not have cracked. A favor John called in to his old friend in the CIA and Alex hadn't asked a single question. And maybe John himself had been two or three of those men that seemed promising. The ones that had chatted you up only to disappear after a few days, leaving you on read. And perhaps Ghost had scared off some of your in person dates when men managed to slip past their careful caging of your dating pool.

Luca had been an unforeseen issue. He was compatible, a good match for you really, and Gaz hadn't been able to work him out of your interest no matter how tempting his words had been behind the fake profiles. So when the in person date had been arranged (a simple phone call to the phone company allowed John to get a transcription of your texts) John had been sure to be waiting for you when you got home.

And for good measure Soap had been waiting for Luca when he got to his own home. Soap had been lounging casually on the bench in his foyer to give Luca a simple warning. Never call you or text you again. The man had been too spooked to do anything but nod at Soap's words. Johnny patted him jovially on the shoulder and slipped back out, dropping the key he pilfered a few days ago in the little dish by the door.

When you wake up a few hours later and climb into John's lap to sleepily ride him you don't see the cocky grin on his face in the dark. You assume the blissed out kisses he gives you are from you grinding down on him and not the fact he knows his plans have worked.

You're his again.

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Tag Request: @shadofireshinobi

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod #fanfic #cod fanfic #my fic #ExH!Price #john price cod #cod john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #18+ content

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star-suh · 5 months

Text

A Hard Day

Wonho & Jackson Wang x Male Reader

cw: tops wonho and jackson, established relationship, a little of praise and degradation, titjob, cum eating, cockwarming, creampie, rimjob, facial, overstimulation, double penetration, cumming hands free.

an: this was a request, anon asked for it to have angst too but i didn't knew how to include it so it's only smut, i'm sorry :(.

—

it was a tough day for yn at work luckily his boyfriend wonho called him and told him that a surprise awaited him when he arrived home.

Yn arrived home and opened the door as quickly as he could, he ran into the living room and what he saw left him speechless. Wonho and Jackson were completely naked on the couch, squeezing each other's cocks. their lube-covered bodies glistening under the light of the room, wonho's tits looked exquisite. “oh my fucking god” gasped yn, his cock already hard watching those sexy men playing with each other's bodies.

“come here bitch boy” wonho made a motion with his hand for yn to walk closer "join us" jackson winks.

yn quickly took off his clothes, leaving himself completely naked and sitting between them, jackson and wonho used their bodies to smear yn's in lube as well while the three mouths were busy exchanging saliva and their tongues intertwining with each other.

"hard day?" jackson asked, "i can almost feel all the coffee you've drank today... and you only do that when you're stressed” jackson never failed to show how well he knew yn, "that's right jackson, but now it's so much better being here with you guys”. "we already had a feeling that it was going to be a stressful day for you, so we made these to make our little bitch feel a little better”.

while they both slowly kissed yn's sensitive neck, he played with wonho's tits "they are so big that i could masturbate with them" he groped them, pinching and twisting the nipples while slapping them lightly to see how they bounced. "then why don't you do it?" wonho encourages him.

yn put his cock between both tits while wonho squeezed them as much as he could "shit it feels so good" yn mentioned while moaning loudly, “go ahead, show me what a whore you are" wonho says. while they were at it, jackson was busy burying his face in yn's ass, sucking and smearing it with saliva while his tongue explored the insides "delicious" he murmurs.

the lube made it easy for yn to slide his cock between the juicy chest.

being stimulated by both sides it was a matter of time before yn came. his thrusts were sloppy, every time the tip of his cock reached wonho's mouth, he gave it a kiss, taking the opportunity to taste the pre-cum. “how's my bitch feeling? is he about to cum?. i should squeeze harder, right?" and that's what he did. seconds later yn let out a growl, his cock exploded, spilling semen all over wonho's face and mouth. he also squeezed his ass so hard, which still had jackson's tongue inside, causing a very pleasant sensation for both of them.

"now it's time for us to cum, pretty boy," jackson says with his sexy, almost raspy voice. they took turns impaling yn's warm hole. wonho's cock was thicker than jackson's, although the latter was a few centimeters larger. both never failed to touch that delicious spot inside yn that made him see stars "i feel so full" the boy moaned, when one cock enters the other came out.

"i can't believe that after so much time of me breaking this dirty whore's hole, it's still as tight as the first time" grunted the muscular man who was still playing with his nipples covered in sperm from the bottom.

wonho continued fucking yn's ass while jackson enjoyed his throat, "so tight...! hngh.. you really were made to please us, weren't you handsome boy?" jackson adds, wiping away the tears that fell down the other's cheeks, "i think he's been a good boy, don't you think so, wonho?" jackson asks the other who was focusing only on breaking yn "that's right, he's been a very good whore... i think we should give him a prize." and just like that, both of yn's holes were filled with hot thick sperm, jackson and wonho's cocks throbbing inside him while they rode his high.

their bodies shook gently due to the spasms caused by them cumming. without realizing it yn came again from the overstimulation "so much cum… holy fuck" he sighed feeling tired.

“go to sleep prince, we'll take care of cleaning everything tomorrow" jackson kissed his forehead while wonho put a finger in his ass to smear it with his sperm and putting it on his lips "good night my good whore" then he inserted his tongue into the other's mouth letting him taste his seed too "now you will have both my sperm and jackson's in your mouth so you can taste us" he whispered to him while he lulled him with a low and gentle voice tone so that yn would fall asleep and could rest from the tiring day, with both cocks still inside him.

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artemismoorea03 · 10 months

Note

Ok, but for your amusement, might I suggest:

Tucker decides Danny needs a break and a shot at a love life. Tucker blackmails Danny into ATTENDING (though he makes the mistake of not specifying for how long) and Danny runs into a bored Wayne kid. Neither want to be there. Both were blackmailed with the kindest intentions. Both decide to team up to make their well-meaning but obnoxious meddlers pay.

I MIGHT HAVE GONE A LITTLE CRAZY WITH A REPLY HOLY FUCK, I'M SO SORRY. WARNINGS FOR THE END: MENTIONS OF GUNS, THREATS OF VIOLENCE, VIOLENCE. Happy ending <3

"Danny, you need a break." Tucker said, and Danny sighed.

"This again? Guys, I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Danny." Sam insisted, standing next to Tucker. She had originally struck up this conversation when they were still in Amity Park. "You're going through a lot right now and you need a distraction that isn't work or ghost related. Gardening didn't work-" Because he froze every plant he touched, "Meditation didn't work-" because when he closed his eyes and tried to relax he would have flashbacks about the countless things he'd seen since the accident. "So the next step is dating."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Hard pass."

"Come on dude, Sam is right. If nothing else you can at least do some people watching and get to know the city better!"

Danny simply continued to scroll on Tiktok, wondering how hard it would be to do one of those dancing videos he saw everywhere. Then again he'd actually need to know how to dance for that to work. He was so busy looking at the video he didn't notice the glance his friends passed between each other before they sighed.

"You've given us no choice, Danny." Sam said, "Tucker."

Tucker held a phone out to Danny to make him see the screen as Danny's face burned red at the picture. It was a picture of him in his Phantom form after a fight with Skulker where a good chunk of his suit had been destroyed, showing off more than Danny was comfortable with.

"DUDE! I told you to delete that!" Danny said, jumping off the couch towards Tucker who was pulled out of the way by Sam who then armed herself with a frying pan. "Delete it, guys!"

"No way! And if you don't at least get out of this house and at least make a friend I'm going to make a Phantom Dating Profile using this picture!"

"You wouldn't dare." Danny glared.

"Try us." Sam said, "We'll even send it through the Ghost Zone now that the Phantom Phones are working we're bound to get some replies from interested ladies."

Danny faultered, then groaned. "Fine."

"Hell yeah, we even made it easy for you." Sam said, handing Danny a piece of laminated plastic. "One ticket to the Wayne Gala this weekend. Tucker got permission for two people to go with him. Which means the three of us are going to a party!"

"A party. A Wayne run party? You guys are just begging for trouble." Danny sighed, "Besides, I don't own a tux, remember?"

"Leave that to me."

Two days later the party arrived and the three of them walked up the drive towards the building where the event was being held.

Sam was wearing a beautiful A-Line dress that was jet black in color with a rose shaped black bracelet that was wrapped around her wrist over the back of her hand and connected to her middle finger.

Tucker was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt with slight rose shaped patterns on it, a black tie and a thin gold chain connected to his left vest pocket. he looked very sofisticated.

Danny felt like a fool though. Silently wishing he had never let Sam pick out his clothes. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the black compression sleeve on his left hand, a gray vest, black suit pants, black shoes and a black tie. He was wearing a silver watch on his right hand which served as a ghost portal maker in emergencies.

He also knew that the 'pocket watch' in Tucker's Pocket was the same kind of device, and the rose Sam was wearing would release harmless smoke out of it if they needed a distraction.

Danny still felt like this was a bad idea. No, actually, this was a terrible idea. Not only because he looked out of place compared to his friends but compared to the rest of the party he hardly seemed like he fit in. He was going to draw so much attention to himself.

They walked to the front doors, showing their invitations and id's to the guards before walking inside. It wasn't as loud as some other parties they'd seen since coming to Gotham but it also was more crowded. There were people everywhere in expensive outfits, talking about... something that sounded like rich person gossip, it was boring.

"Have fun you two, don't make fools out of yourselves." Sam said, waving as she walked over to mingle with a young woman with blonde hair and another girl with short black hair, both seemed to recognize her.

"Oh, hey those guys are from my team, I'll catch you later, Danny. I wanna talk shop." Tucker said, rushing off just as quickly as Sam did as Danny sighed.

'I wanna go home.' He thought as he began to wade through the sea of people, trying to find his way to a wall where he could make himself look as small as possible. Not that it would be hard, his body was so busy developing new powers all the time it had decided that he didn't need to grow anymore after he turned 16 and stuck him at a solid 5'6".

He finally found his way to a corner, letting out a sigh as he sat down on a chair and looked out at the party happening all around him. He started to subconsciously count the people in the room, even going so far as to closed his eyes and sensed the very souls in the room. 56 people in his room, 17 in the room Sam was in, 10 upstairs. Danny then opened his eyes and got a sense for the room in another way. 45 windows lined the entire South side of the building if he was going his math right, with two sets of double doors near the front of the building. The building was mostly open floorplan which helped keep an eye on everybody but in an emergency it would be a stampede.

A man walked over, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall with a growl. He was wearing clothes similar to Danny's but with a red shirt, but what caught Danny's attention was how he felt. He was luminal but not like Sam who felt like a walk through the garden or Tucker who felt like gritty sand, no the feeling that came from this man was like fire. A burning pain that also felt like grease stuck to the back of Danny's throat.

He was luminal but the ectoplasm that made him luminal was so fucking tainted that it made Danny want to gag.

Seeming to notice Danny's glance the man looked back at him.

"What?" He growled.

"Nothing, just thought your hair was cool." Danny said, noting the white streak at the front of his bangs.

The man blinked, touching his hair. He was about Danny's age if he had to guess, maybe a bit older.

"Thanks. It's a birthmark." He grumbled, but Danny could tell that it was probably a sore subject. If death turned his hair white he could only assume it did the same to this guy too. "What's your name kid? Never seen you at one of these boring as parties."

"Danny. Danny Fenton. And I'm not a kid, I'm 19."

"Same age as me, neat. The name's Jason." Jason introduced, himself. "You work at Wayne Enterprises?"

"Kinda, I'm just the janitor, my friend was the one who was invited. I'm just one of his plus ones."

"Yikes, what'd you do to deserve a punishment like that?" Jason asked as Danny laughed.

"My friends decided that going to work then living as some kind of godless cryptid that sleeps the rest of the day 'isn't healthy' so they dragged me out here in hopes that I'll make friends. Though they may have heavily implied that they expected me to either find a date or hook up with somebody while I was here. When I said no, they blackmailed me here. I'm just hoping that if I stay small and don't complain then they'll just let me exist without getting in my face for a while. What about you, what are you in for?"

Jason hummed and nodded, "Similar story. My dad and siblings are all here and said that if I didn't at least make an appearance this time that they would hide some of my books. Among other things. Plus my older brother used the whole 'you never spend time with us' whimper while my two sisters gave me puppy dog eyes."

Danny and Jason sighed before Danny looked at him. "Wanna hang out so they think we're playing nice and leave us alone?"

"Sure." Jason chuckled, "So which ones are your friends?"

"That one there." Danny said pointing to Tucker, "Tucker Foley, he works as a Programmer at WE. Then over there is Sam Mason, she works as a Gardener."

Jason's eyes widened, "Doesn't your friend Sam work at the Wayne Manor?"

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

"My dad is Bruce Wayne." He said, his eyes going to Tucker before they landed back on Danny and he laughed. "Wait. You're that Janitor?"

Danny swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't understand?"

"My dad came home one day and said that somebody told him that there was information happening at Wayne Enterprises that was above his paygrade an we've been teasing him about it for weeks. Now every time he asks anything we reply with 'that's above your paygrade, Bruce'."

Danny groaned, his cheeks burning red. "Oh my god, I can't believe this. I didn't even mean to say that, I just panicked when he suddenly showed up in storage for no reason and caught me... uh... testing stuff."

"Testing stuff?" Jason asked as Danny nodded.

"Y-yeah. See, I work as a janitor because I didn't graduate high school and unlike Tucker I can't just breeze through school and show off my hacking skills to get a job. So I've been using some of the tech that gets thrown away to make something that would help me temporarily lift some of the fragile heavy objects around the building and place them harmlessly down so I can clean under them. But then Bruce caught me, I panicked and that was my reply." Danny was quick to explain, which wasn't a lie he was working on something like that but it was for the Ghost Zone to help him move some heavy things around his Lair and hold down things that often floated off for no damn reason.

"You know, that does explain a couple of things. I can't imagine your boss seeing you mess with tech would be a fun thing to explain. But... if you're so smart why didn't you graduate?"

Danny shook his head, "I'm not smart, I mean not like Tucker or Sam or my family. My sister is in Metropolis studying Psychology and is already a good way through her degree because she graduated a year early. Tucker and Sam graduated and are both working on getting degrees in something but nah, school just wasn't something I could do. Sitting behind a desk learning from a book isn't my thing. I'm better at using my hands, figuring stuff out on the fly, and trial and error shit."

Jason thought about this for a moment before he smiled. "I don't blame you, school is bullshit. Just like stupid galas."

"Mhm..."

Jason suddenly smiled, "Dude, I have the best idea to get back at all of them."

Danny smiled back, "Oh, you have all of my attention."

That one choice was how Danny ended up leaning against a wall closer to the crowd while Jason loomed with one hand near his head, talking to him about absolutely nothing important just to play the position while Danny occasionally chuckled. To anybody outside of the conversation it was supposed to look like they were flirting, which in a way they were but they also weren't.

"Do you like raisins? How about a date?"

Danny chuckled, at the horrible pickup line. "Excuse me, sir, do you have the time? I would like to know the exact time when I got a crush on you."

Jason snorted, "Are you a magnet? Because you sure are attracting to me."

Noticing Tucker and Sam looking his way Danny reached up and gently touched Jason's black tie to sell it more, but he was careful not to touch Jason otherwise. "Let's flip a coin." He told the taller man, "Heads I'm yours, tails you're mine."

Jason's cheek got ever so slightly red as he cleared his throat. "Are you a parking ticket, because you've got fine written all over you." He said as Danny chuckled again, watching Sam and Tucker quickly walk away to give Danny privacy.

"If you were a vegetable you'd be a cute-cumber."

Jason relaxed again at the cheesy flirt as Danny touched the silk tie in his hands. Not because he was actively trying to flirt with Jason but because it felt really nice and expensive. Jason snapped him out of his thoughts with another flirt. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk by again?"

Before Danny could think of another flirt another man walked over, this one about 24 or so in age. He had wavy black hair and blue eyes with tan skin.

"Little Wing! Who's your friend?"

"Ugh." Jason groaned, moving slightly as Danny let go of his tie. "Take a hint, Dickie-Bird." He groaned.

The new person simply ignored Jason though and held out his hand.

"Hi! I'm Dick, Jason's older brother."

Danny shook his hand, "Danny. Danny Fenton, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, Danny! You look a little young to be working at WE, are you here with somebody?"

"A bit of both, I'm a janitor at WE but I'm here with my friend Tucker."

"Really? That's awesome! How old are you, Danny?"

"I'm 19."

This seemed to relieve Dick in a way that confirmed any suspicion that Danny had about him checking to make sure Jason wasn't doing anything illegal though he found himself ever so slightly annoyed. Did he look that young? No, people were just blind.

"Neat! Well, I just wanted to make sure Little Wing here didn't ditch the party, so I'll let you guys go back to what you were doing. Have fun~" He said, then walked away as Danny chuckled and looked at Jason.

"'Little Wing'?"

"Dick gives everybody nicknames, it's stupid. Now, where were we?" He asked, suddenly slamming his hand back by Danny's head as his cheeks grew warm. "Oh, that's right, I was going to out cheese you with these stupid fuckin' flirts."

Danny snorted, "Do you play soccer? Because you look like a keeper."

"I'm studying to be a historian. I'm really interested in finding a date."

This continued for a long time until they ran out of flirts and by that point Bruce Wayne was about to do a speech. At least that was the plan until suddenly the doors slammed open as party was crashed by a large group of people all wearing matching masks. Masks that looked like Ghostface from Scream.

There were at least twenty of them, all heavily armed with guns that they fired into the air. Jason cursed and Danny quickly grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't." He said, looking for Sam and Tucker who were trapped on the other side of the room. They were separated, they were in a large room but with so many people they might have been trapped in a hallway. "Where's your family?"

Jason looked around, "I see my dad and youngest brother. My two sisters are with your friend Sam. I don't see the other three though."

Danny shook off the question of 'just many of you are there' and instead nodded. "Okay, my friends are together too. So we should stick together, everybody else is in groups. Rushing anywhere now might start a stampede."

Jason frowned then glared at the criminals who were pointing their guns at everybody.

"Okay~ I think it's time we get this party started. Now, let's make this easy. If you don't actively work at Wayne Enterprises or aren't related to Wayne Family via blood or adoption get on your stomachs on the ground, the rest of you stay on your feet."

"They're looking for somebody..." Jason mumbled as Danny nodded.

The majority of the crowd laid down while only about a third of the crowd remained standing allowing them to see each individual person.

"Very good!" The criminal in charge praised and looked around. "Now, anybody who makes the wrong move will get one of the people laying on the ground killed. I know a lot of you are stupid enough to try to play heroes so instead of you getting shot we'll shoot whoever is closest to us."

"Shit." Danny and Jason both said together before passing a glance at one another.

The one in charge looked around again until he looked at Danny and pointed at him. "You. Step up."

"No way." Jason said as the man pointed a gun at a young woman who sobbed in fear.

"No no, it's okay. I'm coming." Danny said, patting Jason's arm as he walked carefully through the crowd towards the gunmen.

"Nice to see you again, brat." Hissed the man as Danny raised a brow. Before he could question it though the man pointed to Bruce Wayne. "You. Step up."

"Father." The young kid standing next to Bruce Wayne said going to argue but Bruce just told him to stay put then walked towards them. Bruce kept his hands up, looking at Danny with a clear look of recognition.

"Why don't you let the kids go, there's not a lot of them but those who are here don't need to be involved in whatever demands you have." Bruce said.

"Hah, no way, Bruice-Boy." Hissed the man as two of his men grabbed Bruce by his wrists, yanking his arms behind his back and knocking him back down to his knees. "We came here today for you, but damn we're lucky that this one is here. See, if it weren't for the kid here-" The man grabbed Danny by the front of his suit, shoving the barrel against his chin. "We wouldn't need to do this. This is what happens when you meddle, brat."

Danny's heart sank before he glared. "It's you. You're that bastard who boke in a few weeks ago!"

"Yeah! And if you had just minded your damn business this wouldn't be happening now. If you had just let us do what we were going to do then it wouldn't be a problem."

"You were trying to burn down part of the building with people still inside, I wasn't going to let you."

"And how is that turning out for you now, brat? Hm?" He moved the gun from Danny's chin as shoved Danny back into the arms of two more men who grabbed Danny's arms and shoved them behind his back but let him stay on his feet. "Now, Mr. Wayne, let me explain. See, you and your company were trying to find a cure for something found in the water supply that was making some kids sick, but see were were making a lot of money selling the cure at the highest price. We were going to destroy your progress but unfortunately we were stopped by another kid who thought he was a hero. So, this is what we're going to do. You're good at fundraising so you're going to help us fundraise ransoms for each and every one of these people from their own pockets. The more a person pays the more limbs they get to keep. We'll start at 20,000 per limb." He pointed his gun at Jason. "We'll start with the young man closest to doing something stupid."

Danny growled, glancing at Sam and Tucker. Their eyes met and Danny flashed them green. Sam nodded then with a swift motion told her friends something before smashing her bracelet on the ground.

In an instant their area filled with smoke that rushed out covering the men with smoke and protecting the majority of the crowd laying on the ground in a layer of smoke while only those standing could be seen. Danny reacted as well, knowing that more people would be able to see him . Dropping his full weight down he yanked the two men holding him together as they smashed their heads together and let him go. Danny then elbowed the one to his right in the crotch before standing up, grabbing the barrel of his gun and yanking it upwards, squeezing the metal so the gun would be unusable before he pulled it from the mans hand. Flipping on the safety of the gun he spun it and smacked the man in the temple with the butt.

Danny spun the gun, moving it to his left hand before disarming the man of his gun and kicking it into the smoke in the direction of the stairs in hopes of keeping it away from people. Snapping out of their dazes Bruce and Jason also seemed to react as Bruce slammed his head back, breaking the nose of one of the men before elbowing one in the center of the chest knocking the breath out of him while Jason grabbed the barrel of the gun the main guy was using and shoved it up, causing the gun to go up and break some of the ceiling plaster but preventing people from getting hit. Deciding to leave those men to those two Danny go to work again, but this time in a slightly different way.

He hated fighting humans.

They were too fleshy and not durable like ghosts so he chose not to fight and the smoke provided the perfect cover as he froze the feet of the enemies who were still posing threats while mysterious snake like shapes wriggled under the smoke and yanked the men under to where they would later be found wrapped up in plants or ice. One by one the men were taken down until there was a pained cry that made Danny turn when he heard Bruce shout.

"Jason!"

Danny turned, seeing Jason rubbing at his face. There as a cut above his brows from a knife. He had managed to get the gun from the man but he had pulled out a knife.

Protect.

Danny snarled, taking a step forward as the man went to stab Jason. Danny and Bruce moved at the same time with Bruce covering his son. But Danny made it to them before the man could make contact and he got in the way of the attack. Danny held the wrists of the man as he barred his teeth.

Danny shoved the mans hands upwards, knocking him back slightly before he spun and did a roundhouse kick. An attack that he might have put just a bit too much power into as the man was thrown a good ten feet backwards towards the stairs and the doors that he had broken down. Danny could hear the man wheezing and coughing, seeing him flailing desperately under the smoke but not getting up.

No sooner did Danny relax and turn back to the Bruce and Jason then did Batman (who seemed shorter today for some reason), Red Robin and Signal showed up with the police and a verity of confused looks.

"You sure you're okay?" Danny asked Jason who nodded, his forehead bandaged.

"Just a scratch, headwounds bleed a lot. I'm more confused what the hell just happened. Normally the bats react more quickly than that when they send in a smoke screen."

Danny chuckled, "You have a lot of experiences with the bats?"

"I'm a Wayne, it comes with the territory. Are your friends okay?" He asked as Danny looked towards Sam and Tucker who were mostly just waiting for Danny to finish but Tucker was also hacking on his phone to erase whatever data he could from the security cameras as he possibly could.

"They're fine. I'm going to get an earful for being reckless though."

"I don't think you were reckless. But... how did you learn to fight like that?"

"Uh... long story. Where we come from though the saying 'fight or die' was serious and there were daily reminders of it. But again... long story."

Jason nodded, looking drained. "Well... I know that this whole thing was just a way to get our groups off of our backs but how would you like to get dinner together some day? Just as friends, I mean I'm not against maybe trying some day but right now I kinda wanna get to know you. Besides, I'd like to thank you for protecting me and my dad."

Danny thought for a moment before he smiled. "Sure." He reached into his pocket and handed Jason his phone. Jason typed in his number then handed the phone back. "Get home safe, Jason."

"You too, Danny."

Danny started walking away when Bruce suddenly called out.

"Danny." Danny stopped and turned towards his boss, shrinking down slightly before Bruce smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"All good."

"Are you sure? You did really well out there but if you're hurt you should get looked out."

"I'm not hurt, Mr. Wayne, I promise. Just really tired."

"Alright, if you're sure." Bruce moved his hand and smiled, "Thanks for saving us, Danny."

"Any time, Mr. Wayne, but let's not make a habit out of it, okay? I moved to Gotham to get away from craziness like that." He said, waving his hand as he walked to his friends as he wrapped his arms over both of their shoulders and they made their way home.

"So, you guys have fun?" Sam asked as Danny looked at her.

"You know what... kinda, yeah. At least until the end."

"Did you get his number?" Wondered Tucker.

"Of course I did."

#dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #Friends let friends use stupid pick-up lines as conversation starters #Petition to call JasonxDanny “ALIVE BUT DEAD INSIDE” /j - unless #I honestly don't write a lot of shippy things with Danny #I actually think this might be the first #so it might be awkward #I'm also shit at fluff #SO I HAVE TO ADD ANGST #anyways #i loved this it was so fun #wrote this at 4:30 in the morning any mistakes just live there now

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jungle-angel · 9 months

Text

Send Off (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You, Bob and the rest of the squad get ready to send your kids off to school and let the shenanigans ensue

"Okay Daddy I'm ready now!" Auggie chirped as he stepped out of the bathroom.

Bob sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Auggie, though he had tried, couldn't quite match his own clothes yet. "C'mere bud," Bob told him.

He went into Auggie's room and dug around in the dresser for a hot minute, pulling out a little white t-shirt and a blue checked flannel to go with Auggie's jeans. "Put this on," Bob told his little mini-me.

"But we're gonna miss the bus!" Auggie chirped again.

"Buddy we've still got plenty of time," Bob assured him.

"What's he buggin about missing the bus?" you asked, poking your head in the door.

"Just a little," Bob answered. "And might I ask why you're up Mrs. Floyd?"

"Bob, I've been taking it easy for three weeks now," you told him, the dishtowel in your hand coming to rest on your ever growing bump. "The only thing that your sister's allowing me to do is eat, sleep, read, watch t.v or use the can."

"Hey, Reagan's been doing this for the last nine years," Bob reminded you with a grin. "Trust me, you don't wanna brush off her advice."

You laughed a little, neither of you having noticed that Auggie had disappeared and come back a minute later. "Daddy I can't brush my teeth."

"Why not buddy?"

"Patrick's parked on the shitter!"

You and Bob both burst out laughing at Auggie's response, but at least three-year-old Patrick had finally gotten the hang of using the bathroom on his own.

You got Auggie's toothbrush and the charcoal and mint toothpaste out of the bathroom and had him scrub his teeth in the kitchen sink before Patrick was done, having just washed his hands. As soon as Auggie's backpack had been packed up, he followed Bob out of the house to wait for the bus.

It wasn't long before the rest of the squad had begun making their way down. Maverick was the first to drop by with Danny and Thomas while Rooster was close behind him with Nicky and Pete.

"You guys get outta the house ok?" Bob asked.

"Never better," Maverick yawned. "These two little demons though, woke Penny and I up at six-thirty while Amelia was doing her makeup in the bathroom."

Bob snickered a little, more so when he noticed Rooster in his black basketball shorts and a mismatched shirt. "You didn't sleep did you?" Bob chuckled.

"I couldn't even a coffee before we left," Rooster groaned. "These two are like bottomless pits......they just wolfed down their cornflakes and called it a day."

Coyote came striding up just a minute later with Paloma and Carla giggling like crazy but the exasperated look on his face saying it all.

"Hair......" he interjected before anyone could say anything. "That's all you've gotta know."

Bob looked over at his giggling nieces whose thick hair had been put into tight cornrows with white and turquoise beads at the end. "How'd you do it?" Bob asked him.

"I don't have a clue," Coyote said, throwing his hands up. "Those two cannot sit for two seconds to save their lives and my mom and my wife are the only ones who can do their hair. But somehow, Daddy did it!!!"

Payback crossed the street with Geneva and Neveah some time later while Mickey trailed along with Isabella in her new dress with a bright sunflower pattern. Hangman came around the back of his house with the twins while Phoenix was the last to arrive with Gabe in tow.

"Holy shit," Hangman groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "Is it the first day of school already?"

"Unfortunately," Rooster answered.

"God help us all," Natasha said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Couldn't get the coffee in on time?" Jake asked her.

"This little knucklehead woke up and tried to bring the dog to school with him," Natasha answered. "First time I ever saw Cole jump outta bed in his shorts."

Everyone had a good laugh on the morning shenanigans while everyone had begun taking pictures of the older kids all lined up with their backpacks as they waited for the bus. It felt like forever but finally, the little yellow bus that had the name of their school stenciled on the side, pulled up and let the kids on. All of them waved goodbye to their parents, ready for the first day of school as the bus pulled away down the street.

"Are you crying?" Bob asked Jake.

"No," Jake insisted. "I've got allergies, that's all."

Bob rolled his eyes as everyone dispersed and went back to the house. His father's truck pulled into the driveway to bring Patrick down to the nursery school, where Auggie had gone, leaving you and Bob with the whole day ahead to get the nursery decorated for your daughter.

"What?" you asked when you heard Bob chuckle a little.

"Hangman was crying at the bus stop when Missy and Molly got on the bus," he answered.

"Did he really?"

"Oh yeah," Bob laughed. "Tole me it was allergies."

You both had a good laugh on the matter as you began putting the nursery together and attempting to paint it the way Patrick's nursery school had done. You looked over at your phone, noting the time, but hoping all the same that Auggie and your nieces and nephews were having the time of their lives on their first day of kindergarten.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #natasha phoenix trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #reuben paybak fitch #dagger squad

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bakacentipede · 2 years

Text

'Nanami Kento, your dear husband and the father of your child can never get enough of you.'

warning: 18+ content, dilf nanami, breeding kink, cockwarming, choking kink, oral, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, degradation, hitting, unprotected sex, praise kink, foreplay and idk what not!

Disclaimer: TW, not for minors, nsfw

You've been married to Kento for three year now and you have a beautiful daughter whose almost two years old now. It makes you happy knowing you're the only one he loves dearly. Kento's love language is definitely acts of service, no matter how tired he is he'll do whatever he can to make your burdens lighter. He's honestly the best you can ever ask but as a normal couple you both do have your lows. Most of the times you both argue about the stupidest things possible but it wasn't the same today. You haven't properly talked to eachother for a week now. Although you were at fault and you apologized too but Kento just wouldn't listen. Taken over by your ego, you gave up on apologizing, waiting for him to reach out to you at this point.

The reason behind your argument was simple, Kento had planned a little date for the both of you, he even dropped off your daughter at your parents' house so you both could enjoy some time alone. He had told you about the date but it literally slipped your mind and went to a colleague's birthday party the same night. Kento was not only upset about you missing the date but also you attended the birthday party of the colleague he despised the most. According to your husband, that particular colleague is just "trying to get into your pants" and you were aware of that but you couldn't have declined the invitation as he had invited the WHOLE staff but really, you had just forgotten about the date. You had apologized a shit ton of times but Nanami just wouldn't listen but it was killing you not being able to talk to your best friend. Other than that your sexual desires were going insane, and you know it's the same for Kento too because you both have a crazy sex life it's like you can't keep your hands off of eachother every time you're around eachother whether it's after coming back from work or even when you wake up in the morning. You can't help it though, Kento literally sends you up in heaven with his skills.

It was your day off today, you tried to keep your mind preoccupied with chores the whole day and playing with your daughter. Time went by peacefully and then in the evening you heard the door unlock, signaling kento's arrival. You heard him Whisper a little "I'm home" as he entered the house exhausted. He hardly payed any attention to you which obviously hurt like a motherfucker. Kento cleaned his hands and straight up cuddled your daughter, playing with her.

Dinner was well, different because the tension in the room made it suffocating. You exchanged a few sentences with eachother like "how was your day?" "the food is good" which were replied back with monotonous remarks. Later it was time for bed, you had cleaned yourself up and Kento was just reading a book. You put your daughter to sleep and went to put her in her own room. As you were returning back and were about to open your bedroom door you heard strange noises coming from the room. You tried really hard to listen but couldn't make out what was happening so you tried to take a peak from the slightly opened door and the scene in front you made you take a deep breath, you saw Kento pleasuring himself, shakily whispering your name and ofcourse since he has been getting on your nerves you HAD to cockblock him which you did. You barged into the room making the door hit the wall, the sound of the impact surprising Kento as he quickly tried to put his dick back in his pants, his cheeks glowing red. You didn't even look at him as you went to your vanity to start up with your night time skin care. You could feel him staring daggers at your back but he didn't speak up a word.

You stripped out of your clothes to change into something comfortable to sleep in but you had something else in mind. You took out your little black satin lingerie dress and put it on with nothing else underneath it and slipped under the covers. The whole time Kento was staring at you, watching your moves carefully as he was aware what you were trying to do. As you went under the covers you faced the other side of the room waiting for him to do something. You felt him turn towards you inching closer, you could feel his boner on your butt making you bite you lip with the thought of him touching you after days. He slowly put his hands on your thighs and moved it to your stomach. He brought his lips closer to your ear, "You've been acting like a bitch again, it's been quite awhile since I taught you a lesson, right darling?" His voice sent shivers down your spine making you squeeze your legs but you wouldn't ever lose to him so you continued with your cold act. "I'm not in the mood Kento, go to sleep or whatever I don't care." You lied without missing a beat. "Oh but I'm sure-" Kento moved his hands to your aching sex as he jammed his two fingers inside roughly without even giving you time to prepare "-your body says otherwise, look how wet you are darling and I haven't even properly touched you." He kept his fingers inside not moving them at all making you impatient. "Do you know how painful it was for me to hear you pleasure yourself and moan my name almost every night for the last couple of days while you thought I was fast asleep?" Kento whispered in your ear, all your blood rushing to your cheeks.

Kento slowly and painfully started to pump his fingers in and out of you making you wince in pain and pleasure. "I thought you weren't in the mood?" Kento mocked, his voice raspy. The quenching sound of your pussy and your whimpers filled the room and Kento's dick was hard and throbbing. He pulled his fingers out of you making you cry out with the sudden lack of warmth of his hands. You sat up on your knees throwing away the duvets you were under and stripping away to show Kento how needy you were for him. Kento hungrily looked at you, devouring all of you with his eyes. He put his hand around his neck and pulled you down on him, the act making the heat unbearable between your legs.

Kento spanked your ass with his free hands making you scream in pain, "That's my good girl" he whispered against your lips. Even though you knew you can never win against him but the urge to dominate him was strong that you slapped him on his cheeks and sat your ass on his face. It took a minute for him to understand what you were trying to do, "Oh i'm so gonna get you back for that shit" he growled and dived right into your folds. Licking and sucking on every spot that made you tremble. He knew your body way too well, it was almost humiliating. You pulled down his trousers and tried to suck him off the best you could do but the feeling of his mouth eating you all up made it too difficult to be steady. Your moans were too loud, you were scared that your daughter might wake up but oh lord Kento overpowered you with his skills.

You were now being flipped onto your stomach, you could hear him shuffling through his drawer. He then started tying your wrist up with something behind your back, it must be his tie, you thought. You arched your back and wiggled your butt for him to see your leaking hole which made him let out a moan. He pulled you to him with the tie around your wrist and thrusted into you harshly hitting your cervix, you let out a scream and in an instant his other hand moved over your lips, "Keep your voice low, my whore. You wouldn't wanna wake our daughter up and make her witness her mom's filthy moans, would ya?" He spit out loudly.

You shut your lips up dreading that horrifying scenario. You felt Kento move again but in an extremely slow pace which made you whimper for more.

"You want me to go harder, princess?" he whispered in your ear as he thrusted in you teasingly. You felt so needy and desperate that all you could respond back with was a cry. Kento increased his pace and his every thrust got deeper and deeper as he kept whispering dirty words in your ears.

His touch was so rough, the way he grabbed and clawed on your skin and the way his dick throbbed inside you, all felt so rough, as if he was punishing you but well, obviously you loved that because he knows his little princess loves being treated like nothing but a whore, his whore.

You wanted to see him fucking you and you wanted to see how hot he probably looked as he completely destroyed you. "Daddy" you moaned out the nickname he likes the most, "what?" he growled. "Can I please see your face while you fuck me?" you cried out with pleasure.

Without uttering a word, he dragged you harshly by your tied hands infront of a mirror and bent you over against the table and oh my god he looked sexy. He was hitting all of your sensitive spots, railing you so good that you were drooling out your mouth and your eyes were rolled back. He held eye contact with you through the mirror and every time you'd look away, he'd slow down or either pull out and that shit was driving you insane.

"P-please m-moree", you somehow managed to moan out these words out of your mouth. He grabbed you by your hair and threw you in bed and climbed on top of you and spread your legs wide apart. "You have no idea how much I fucking love you, this past week was unbearable." He bent down and kissed your lips, circling your clit with his fingers. He put his fingers inside you just to pull it out seconds later which caused you to let out a bratty whine. Kento licked and sucked on the same fingers he had just put inside you, "God baby you taste so good, I can never get enough of you." And that was FUCKING HOT.

He put his dick back inside you, not teasing you anymore but going at a rhythmic pace and kissing your lips whenever he could. After a short while of showing you love and care, he increased his pace little by little, his thrusts getting deeper and harder causing your legs to tremble and his dick twitching inside of you.

You both were a bloody mess, cusses shooting out of your mouths, your bodies shaking against eachother, your grip onto eachother getting tighter, "fuck daddy can I cum please", you cried out loudly amd begged.

"Cum for daddy, my slut," he attached his lips onto yours, your moans getting louder and within seconds you both came together, he didn't pull out and painted all your walls with his release and held you into that position for a few more minutes until his breath steadied.

He slowly pulled out of you, wincing in pleasure, "That's my good girl" he cooed and gently kissed your forehead and went to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. You laid there on the bed, naked with his cum dripping out of you while you waited for him to come back.

"That was fucking good" you thought to yourself. Just then, your darling husband came back with a wet towel in his hand and cleaned you all up nicely AND OFCOURSE THE BED TOO and helped you put your clothes back on and held your hand while you took a wee cause you were literally about to fall asleep any second.

You both cuddled up to eachother, as he sang you your favourite songs and kissed your forehead so gently and watched you fall asleep in his arms. He couldn't keep his eyes open either and looked at you one last time, "i love you my darling", he murmured and slipped into a deep slumber with you in his arms.

______________

HEY GUYS ITS YOUR BESTIE THE CENTIPEDE SAMA!!!!

I know I KNOW I DISAPPEARED FOR LIKE MONTHS???? I WAS JUST DEPRESSED AHAHA AND THIS POST HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES. I FINALLY COMPLETED IT AND IM SO HAPPY!!!!

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS LIL NANAMI SMUT CAUSE WELL HE DADDY AF AND PLEASE SHARE IT AND SHOW THIS LITTLE CENTIPEDE SOME LOVE! AND DONOT FORGET TO COMMENT AND LIKE<33333

-centipede sama(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

____________________

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #alternate universe #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk nanami #nanamin #jujutsu nanami #imagines #kento x reader

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f4iry-bell · 2 months

Note

Grayson x reader argument angst/comfort

dates and bags

this was supposed to be in my current series but I've decided to stop it and so it's here!! idk if it'll come under comfort tho because it's just vvv little confort but YEAH!!!!!

It has been exactly a month since things started becoming a bit serious with Grayson and her. A month of pure contentment. But it didn't last long, it was like someone was praying for them to seperated because Grayson started being distant. Everyday phone calls became text messages, text messages became one word reply or being left on read. Weekly dates or just them going out together became rare. He barely answered her calls, he'd text her ‘im bust’ after ignoring her calls. At first she believed that he was actually busy with work, after all he had his own life. But how long can one stay busy? Probably Grayson Hawthorne but this time Grayson Hawthorne has a girlfriend or whatever they are right now. A serious commitment.

It took her three phone calls and use of imperative sentences to convince him to meet her at a cafe they used to meet. Neither of them spoke much once Grayson arrived at the cafe late.

“So, how are you doing?” She asked him with a bland tone.

“Fine” He replied with an aloof tone.

“Are you sure?” She asked with her eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Then why have you been acting like an asshole to me all week?” She snapped.

Grayson was taken aback by her snapping. But he kept his cool. “No need of vulgar language to resolve whatever silly reason you're mad at me for”

“Silly reason?” She scoffed.

“I don't think I have done anything for you to be this mad” He said.

“You've been distancing yourself from me and ghosting me for a week!” She tried hard not to yell.

“I told you, I have been busy. Plus, I do answer your texts.”

“No, you don't. You say ‘ok’, ‘i'll text you later’, ‘i’m busy’. You don't answer me.” She cleared it for him.

“I thought you'd understand that I'm a busy man, I don't have time for you all day”

“But you did when we met! If not all day, you had time for me for at least an hour. Now you can't even spare me a minute” She breaks down, the anger now turning into hurt.

Instead of giving her a reason, a real reason. Grayson tried to leave. “Look, I don't have time for this. I'll talk to you later,”he said.

“Screw this. Don't bother. If you even bother enough to think about me.” She stood up, grabbing her bag and taking out a bill to pay. “I'm out of this. I'm done”

“What do you mean?” He asked as he watched her move out of their table.

“You know what I mean.” With that the one romantic relationship that worked out well for Grayson ended.

She tried not to think about Grayson and how he used to treat her, she tried not to care at all so she wouldn't be hurt. But she failed every time. It has been exactly four days since she called it off and blocked his number, not that she was expecting him to call or text. At 1 in the morning someone knocked on her apartment door. She walked out of bed and started to think whether or not to answer the door, it's 1 am, who could it be?

Sighing she opened the door just 3 inches to see who it was while holding a broomstick behind her. She was surprised and angry to see who it was.

“Grayson?”

He smiled. “Hello, love” She can smell the alcohol in his breath.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, and she noticed he was still holding a flask. How much did he drink?

“I missed you” He looked at her how he used to.

“Well keep missing me, cause I'm not talking to you. Go back to your place” She said and was about to slam the door but stopped when he gagged like was going to puke.

“Sorry about that. Anyways, you look so beautiful,” he commented with a cheeky smile. Her anger only grew.

“Did you drive here?” She asked and he nodded. “Are you stupid? Driving while you're this drunk?” She asked, followed by an annoyed scoff.

She shook her head and asked him to book a cab and go back to his place again, when he tried to get closer to her he almost lost his balance.

“You're so frustrating.” She said and grabbed his arm to help him inside her apartment, she helped him to sit on the couch and went to grab a glass of water for him. When she came back he was drinking from the flask again, she snatched it from his hand and handed him the glass. “Drink this”

“Thank you” He drank it. “Shouldn't you be mad at me?” He asked.

“I am.”

“Then why are you offering me water?”

“So you can sober up and leave”

“Wrong. Because you're nice,” he said. “Too nice. Too pretty, too adoring, too passing, too considerate” He kept going.

“All that and yet—” Grayson cut her off mid sentence by talking.

“I told my brothers about you” He said. “And what happened”

“What did they say?” She tried not to think that Grayson told his brothers because he thought he messed up.

“They called me an idiot” He smiled.

“You are”

“I know. They also said you deserve an explanation. I guess that's why I'm here”

“Go on, explain”

“Like I said, you're just too good. Too good for me, I don't deserve you but I decided to be selfish when I asked you out. But I started to panic because I was getting attached to you, I thought this would just be a fling but it was becoming so much bigger. It wasn't supposed to be like that for me, I can't stay selfish for a very long time. If you know my family history you'd hate me.” He explained.

“You think you don't deserve me? Grayson, I'm not special. And that is no excuse to distance yourself from me. Do you know how much you've hurt me? And I don't care about your family history, I liked you for you. You as an individual.”

“You liked me? You don't like me now? I understand. It was a false hope for thinking you'd still like me, I did act like an asshole to you” He let out a fake chuckle.

She thought for a moment before speaking. “I still like you, you know. You can't dislike someone just like that, especially someone like you.” She said.

Grayson blinked “You do?”

She nods.

“Does that mean you'd be willing to forgive me? My brothers said I should at least try and ask you for another chance” He asked.

She rolled her eyes. “First of all you didn't apologise yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For pushing you away because I hate myself and can't allow myself to have nice things”

She sighs. “It's gonna take a lot more than a drunken apology.”

“So you'd be willing to try?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

She shrugged. “Now come on, let's get you to bed.” She said and took his hand, and laid him on her bed. “And don't you dare puke on my sheets” She warns.

He moved to the corner giving her some space, she climbed next to him and he wrapped his arms around her. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“It's fine.” She said, totally not bothered by his touch.

After five minutes of silence she spoke. “You know, you deserve to be loved. I don't why you think you don't, but you're a nice person, Grayson. And if you let me, I might fall in love with you”

“Thank you for saying that. Also, take back what you said earlier.” He said.

“What?”

“When you said you're not special. Because you are, to me.”

She turned to his side. “Don't sweet talk me. You owe me multiple dates before I officially forgive you”

“Just dates?”

“And a bag, maybe.”

“Dates and bag it is then”

She smiled. “You're really good at pushing people. But this better be the last time. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am”

#grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game #grayson hawthorne x reader

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observeowl · 4 months

Text

Unwanted Marriage | Chapter 7 - Getting Risky

Series Masterlist

"Y/N, please come here!" You were working at your desk when Millicent called you. "Y/N, you did very well last month. Therefore I want you to do this important interview. Director Lancaster from Lancaster Group has just gotten married. We will be interviewing him this time." That raised alarm bells in your head. Why would they be interested in him? "I think I can't..."

"Why not? Several people in the company saw him come to see you." She reasoned. "It's not like that, I-"

"Y/N, I think highly of you. That is why I decided to let you do this interview. Go and prepare the interview outline first."

You sighed as you stepped out of her office. The relationship with your family has become so complicated and weaved into your work. "Y/N, what is wrong?" Wanda asked. You dragged to somewhere quieter and told her that Millicent told you to interview Director Lancaster. Someone told her that you were his friend, but you don't think you're up for this job.

"Millicent asked you to interview Director Lancaster? Isn't he the handsome one that came last time? What's up with him?" You shook your head, Wanda would never get it without you telling her the whole story. She's much too focused on a person's look to see anything else. "Why? Skeleton in the closet? I brought this interview up during the meeting. You have to thank me!" Sharon came out behind you.

"Is there anything odd with the interview?" Wanda asked timidly. "Nothing odd, I am afraid that someone is too guilty to take the task. Afraid to meet him since he is married, and more afraid of being bullied by the legal wife!"

"Sharon! What nonsense are you talking about?" Wanda came to your defence. Despite knowing nothing much, the one thing she know is your personality and there was no way you would break a couple's relationship.

"I'm not talking nonsense, you'll know later."

You've done quite a few since you started working at Stark News and the outline was quickly done and vetted by Millicent. "The interview outline is okay. Since you and Mr Lancaster are friends, you can meet privately first. Afterwards, I'll arrange for him to come here and take pictures for the cover. If it wasn't for you being able to get an interview with Natasha Romanoff, we wouldn't have sold out all of our copies. The Chief Editor will definitely reward you! This is the last edition, you can keep a copy." She handed you the magazine with Natasha Romanoff on the front page. You could see why so many people have a crush on her. You were embarrassed to admit that you were staring at the front page for a while until Millicent told you you were free to leave.

You arrange a meeting three days later with Marcus with Lancaster Group. When the arranged date arrived, you went to his office but Stephanie was sitting on his chair instead of him. "What? Don't feel surprised?"

"You have painstakingly sent Marcus away. Is it because you have no confidence in him?"

"How is that possible? Don't think that I don't know that you still can't forget Marcus after so long." You rolled your eyes at her comment. She and Marcus kept getting involved in your life, you can't forget him even if you want to. "You're thinking too much. I'm not into taking someone's leftovers, only you treasure him."

"Hello? Is this Starks News? Your employee is very arrogant! We're here to do an interview, not to look at your employee's negative faces! Director Lancaster is very angry now! You must give us an explanation! What has she done? She hit Director Lancaster and even splashed coffee on him!"

"Y/N, we'll see how you try to explain your way out this time!"

"There is no need for an explanation. You have said what you wanted to say. I can't do anything about it." If you can handle Sherry's accusation about you, she is nothing to worry about.

===

You were told to enter Mr Stark's room and it was only your second time here after your interview. "I'll give you a chance to explain what happened today."

"I didn't meet with Director Lancaster, I only met his wife."

"Stephanie Y/L/N? Your sister?"

"How did you know?"

"I attended your wedding. I had some doubts at first. However, Natasha Romanoff's interview last time was successfully completed, so I can basically confirm it. I will let another person interview Marcus. It's okay if you can't do it. Don't worry about it."

"Are you giving me this privilege because I am Natasha's wife?" You asked. Mr Stark looked at you like you have a second head before holding her belly and laughing out loud. "Y/N, what are you talking about? Even though the Romanoff family is supreme, the Stark family is also not that bad. It's only that I want to protect this magazine. You're a dependable hard worker, not arrogant nor bad tempered. That's why I keep you here."

"Sharon will be in charge of the interview with Mr Lancaster. I hope Group 1 will cooperate with Sharon." Mr Stark told the company in an open meeting. You and Wanda were happy to see that Sharon was reaping her own words.

"Mr Lancaster, someone from Stark News just came, they left when you weren't here." Marcus's secretary told him as he came back. "Alright, I'll call them back." Normally, he would leave such a task to his secretary, but since he knows you are working there, he decided to be the one calling instead.

M: Hello?

S: Hi, Director Lancaster. I am the editor from Stark News. I am so sorry for what happened. I will let Y/N Y/L/N apologise to you!

M: Apologies? I had a meeting in the morning so I wasn't in the office and was unable to meet her.

He knew it had something to do with Stephanie telling him that there was something wrong with the factory and that his father was unable to do anything about it, pulling him away from his office.

S: ...I hope Mr Lancaster can give us a chance.

M: About the interview, I have no problem with it. You can arrange for it.

S: Thank you Mr Lancaster, shall we meet tomorrow at 11am?

M: Alright, see you at Birkins Restaurant.

Marcas was excited to see you at work. He wondered how you would look, and you must look very professional in your work clothes. "Prepare a new suit for me. It must be presentable and good looking. The more handsome the better!"

Words somehow spread and Natasha caught news that Tony Stark knew of your identity because of the conflict of Marcus's interview. "It is not a problem. I know Tony Stark. He has only started managing the company for the past few years. He has the capabilities but no ambition."

===

While Marcus was waiting for your arrival, he was daydreaming about how it was going to go. He really thought how the both of you were going to have a good time at the interview, chatting about work and not.

"Mr Lancaster, sorry to keep you waiting." A voice said as she pushed open the door. "It's fine, I have just arrived too... you are?"

"I am Sharon Carter, editor from Stark News, nice to meet you."

"Is it only you?" He asked as he subtly looked behind her. "What do you mean, Mr Lancaster?"

"Where is Y/N Y/L/N?"

"Mr Lancaster, because of Y/N's conflict with you previously, the company has decided to send me to interview you. You're looking for her now... to reapproach her?"

"Who asked you to change the interviewer?! What did she do wrong? Did I tell you to change her?!" He stood up and shouted at her. "Mr Lancaster, please listen to my explanation."

"Forget about the interview this time! If there is an opportunity, we will cooperate again in the future." He walked out a room without giving a second thought to Sharon. She clenched her fist, there's always you standing in her path. Before you appeared, everything was smooth sailing for her.

"Hello? Are you Stephanie Lancaster? I am Sharon Carter from Stark News..."

In the end it was Stephanie who was interviewed on behalf of Marcus. News was that Marcus had something on suddenly so Stephanie took the interview instead. As expected, the interview included remarks of her supposed confidence in Marcus to not get lured by other ladies.

"Y/N, don't you think she's provoking you?" Wanda asked as she read the interview printed out. "You think too much. It's just a simple interview. I'm going to the washroom."

You were washing your hands when you saw Sharon from the mirror with her lackeys. It was always the usual two following her. "So, do you feel anxious after reading the interview?" They surrounded you, making you unable to go anywhere. "I don't know what you are talking about." Sharon gave the signal and one of them went to the door to flip the sign indicating that the washroom was undergoing maintenance.

"What do you guys want to do?" They took a hold of your arms, locking you in place.

"What can I do? I'm just following orders. After all, I got an interview, and I had to do something for Mrs Lancaster, right?"

"Aren't you guys afraid that the Chief Editor will find out?"

"Ah! Really? I'm so scared!" She faked. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, the Chief Editor took a call and went out. Furthermore, the soundproofing of this washroom is pretty good. Who will know what we did to you?"

"Wanda knows that I'm in the washroom. If I don't go back, she definitely will look for me!"

She gave another signal and the others smacked your head on the counter. "No worries, Wanda can't come in even if she wants to." She took out her phone and snapped a photo of you. "Look at you, all fine and tender, the face of a vixen. No wonder Natasha Romanoff and Marcus Lancaster are both seduced by you!" You continued staring at her and pissed her off, making her knee you in the gut. "Bitch! How are you stare at me!"

"Sharon, how about we let it go? If anything happens to her, we'll be finished."

"What are you scared of?! I specifically hit her in places that can't be seen. Do you think she will go out lifting her shirt, telling others that we beat her up?" She shouted. "I will teach you a lesson today! A mistress is like a rat running across the street, everybody shouting and wanting to kill it." She turned to you and lifted you by your hair and pushed you into one of the stalls. "I want to see how you'll hang your head up high next time!" She closed the door and you rushed to open it but it was not budging.

You heard the sound of water only after it hit you, leaving you drenched in your clothes. "You just stay here and behave yourself. I'll let you out if I remember." You started hyperventilating and bangging on the door for anyone to help you out. You didn't want to be stuck here alone.

Message from Stephanie: You did a great job! I have long thought that your abilities were above average. If there is any problem in the future, come and find me.

"What are you doing?" Sharon asked when she saw Wanda walking past her. "I'm looking for Y/N, she's been in the washroom for quite a long time."

"The water pipes of the washroom on this floor are not functioning. The washroom is out of order."

"Then why hasn't she come back yet?"

"I just saw she seemed to have met someone she knows. They were talking and walking with each other, who knows where they went."

Wanda accepted it as it is and went back to her table with a thought. You wouldn't leave your bag and phone on the table, unless it was an emergency? There was a sense of unease with her the longer you left.

When everyone was clocking out of work, one of Sharon's lackeys asked if she was really going to leave you alone in the washroom. "Why even bother to care about her? After a while, the cleaner will come and know that she is there."

And true enough, the cleaner came round and saw someone place the maintenance sign in front and questioned it. No one told her that there was going to be maintenance here. "Who did this?! What the hell are they doing?" She grumbled when she saw a particular stall being really wet with a chair in front of the door.

"Ahhhh!" She screamed, getting the attention of Wanda heading there to check again. "Some-someone is dead!"

"Y/N! What happened to you? Wake up! Hurry! Call the ambulance for help!" She rushed out of the washroom to get to her cart and bumped into Tony Stark. She hurriedly explained what happened and he jumped into action. "It will take a while for the ambulance to come, I will drive her to the hospital."

At the emergency room, Tony and Wanda were waiting for any news of you as the doctors determined the best course of action for you. "It's my fault. If only I had gone into the washroom to have a look."

"It's okay, we can't change the past now. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Let's pray she isn't too affected."

The sounds of wheels turning caused them to turn their heads. "Where is Y/N?"

"Y/N is in the emergency room." Tony replied. "What happened? How did Y/N end up here? Now is not the time to be crying! Tell me!"

"In any way, I will give you a satisfactory explanation."

"I don't only want an explanation." Tony experienced Natasha's piercing eyes first hand and almost cowered in fear. It was no wonder rumour had said that she is merciless. "Well, I think I know who did it."

"I went to the toilet to look for Y/N. Sharon told me that I couldn't because it was under maintenance. Now to think of it, she just didn't want me to know that Y/N was inside. And also she always goes against Y/N, and even said Y/N was a mistress."

"Clint, go and check it out."

"What about you?"

"I will wait here for her."

===

It wasn't long before a doctor came out with the result. Your fever was high and ongoing and you were lucky you were brought to the hospital in time or it would have turned into pneumonia. They were also informed that you were going to be wheeled to another room later.

"Y/N... you're finally awake!" You saw three figures in front of you as you opened your eyes. "Why am I in the hospital?" You mumbled to yourself until you remembered what happened in the washroom. "Y/N, don't worry. We won't let her get away with this! Mr Stark already knows the entire story, they can't get away with it."

"We don't have proof."

"Are you just going to let her bully you and let her get away unpunished? This is just too unfair!"

"I remember there is a security camera installed outside the washroom. Once we get the footage, they have no way to run to. I will arrange for someone at the security's office to check now." Mr Stark said but Natasha stopped him. "It's no use. At most, the footage only captured them going in or out the washroom. What happened inside cannot be captured. I will handle this. She should pay for what you've gone through."

"My guard was down this time. I promise, there won't be a next one. You stay out of this, okay?" She was about to protest until she saw your puppy eyes and let it go. "Okay, just this once."

Wanda, upon seeing how close you were with her idol, broke her. "Wanda, what's wrong?"

"Wh-what is their relationship?"

"Can't you tell?" She refused to shake her head, not wanting to acknowledge what was in front of her. "This is my wife, Y/N." Natasha said. "W-wife?"

"I didn't say anything." You chuckled, relieved that the tension wasn't as thick anymore.

Series Masterlist

@natsxwife @franfineashell @dvrkhcld @reginassweetheart @marvelogic @autorasexy

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #my writing #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #unwanted marriage #mcu x reader #marvel #avengers

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williaml0ver · 4 months

Text

☆ <3 Ganji Gupta giving his s/o a cat ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1535

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, fluff, comfort, crack, not proofreading any of this lol

[🖇️] author's note: did i mention previously that i don't know how to portray Ganji in headcanons? Well yes... did i give that idea up and started working on something else but stopped in the middle because i got a stupid idea? Well yes! I'm glad to present all of you a silly Ganji drabble in those testing times!

-As a cricket player, your boyfriend quite often had to leave your shared cottage. Of course, sometimes he'd let you tag along, but it was not always possible. Days like this were filled with loneliness, and as much as you appreciated Ganji's passion and hard work you did experience the terrible moments of emptiness.

-Ganji, as much as he'd prefer to stay together, knows it wouldn't be responsible. The bills are no joke. There is always an emotional aura around when he's coming home — when you receive a letter confirming his homecoming you feel literally head over heels. Then, once Ganji arrives he is welcomed with a cozy dinner and a long cuddle session.

-You manage to notice that your boyfriend, who sometimes may be hard for you to read is in fact acting a little strange, yet you assume that maybe the homesickness was still kicking in, so you decided to not confront him.

-Ganji NEVER allows you to help him in unpacking, stating that you've already done enough by keeping the house clean. When this time you hear no protests from his side you know something is up, you just can't wrap your head around what exactly. You're told to grab some luggage and bring it to your shared room. You decide to obey him to not raise any suspicion. After he's made sure you're busy upstairs, he begins his secret plan. Ganji sneaks out of the cottage. He approaches a small shed standing next to it, and takes your surprise to meet you.

-Meanwhile, you are still upstairs, folding your boyfriend's clothes and putting them into your joint wardrobe, feeling grumpy, yet grateful he is finally back. Suddenly, you hear him calling you. Assuming he just needs your assistance, you unassumingly get up and go downstairs. What you see however is nothing you expected it to be...!

-Standing next to you, you look at Ganji gently smiling. Then, your attention turns to his chest. Inside his partially unzipped shirt you notice a small fluff ball being carried in it, your lover's hand gently petting it. Unsure what to do, you cover your mouth with your hands and try to process what did just happen. The batter explains that he's aware of the gap, the hole he leaves inside you when he has to leave you for business for some time. It truly makes his heart break, therefore he decided it may be a good idea to give you a small companion.

-You quickly run over to Ganji, giving him a kiss on the lips, he then holds the small cat in his palms and gives it to you. A small group hug is formed. Of course, knowing it's a small animal, you took the batter's gift very seriously. You asked several key questions, including if there are furniture and food prepared for it. His heart melted after hearing you saying that it's like if you two had a baby to raise. Ganji knew that now when he leaves you will feel at least a little less lonely now. He also admired your dedication to help him raise the small one.

-Sooner or later, this moment was impossible to avoid, in no time, Ganji was once again called to come back. You spent your final night together cuddling in bed, his arm around you. You have placed the cat between both of you. Out of the three, you fell asleep first. It always amazed you how Ganji could sleep for so few hours and still be able to function properly. He silently watches your sleeping form while smiling to himself, petting both of his now two little ones.

-After Ganji left for good, he kept thinking about you for the next few days. Are you doing alright? Is the cat causing any trouble? Before bringing it to you, he hasn't noticed any nasty behaviour coming from the small creature, but what he DID notice is that this time you've let him go rather easily. Whenever it was time for your boyfriend to get back to work, you would always become very clingy, sometimes even shedding a tear here and there. But this time? You seemed weirdly calm. He later came to a conclusion that his small fluff ball of joy is probably the reason for the sudden change in your mood. Good, he thought, you are now more or less distracted while he is away.

-Another thing he wasn't aware of is that now that while he's gone, the cat is literally wrapping you around it's fingers... i mean claws. At one point or another, you unawarely become a maid at your own house. You constantly spend your time with your cat. It's got new toys, new food, new places to play in.

-As time passes, Ganji once again comes back and is welcomed by you enthusiastically as always. He sees his "child" has now grown and is being well taken care of by his lover. He doesn't mind at all that there is now more cat accessories around the house, it's just proof that it's being treated properly.

-After a homecoming dinner, Ganji decides he needs some fresh air and alone time. He however starts to sense a stinky smell. While trying to find it's source, he stumbled upon his shoes. He decided to give the search up and go outside, but then, the moment of realization hits. Someone has SHAT inside HIS shoes! and he doesn't need further investigation to know who is behind this. The only question in his mind is why? After spending so much time with their lover home alone, he assumed you instructed it on how to properly use the litter box, right? And the answer is that you in fact did. Though for mysterious reasons, the cat decided to give his second owner a proper welcome.

-See, small guy noticed that after Ganji returned, you paid more attention to him instead. Obviously, kitty doesn't like that and has to show this man where his place is. Ganji just found himself a mortal enemy - at one point, those nasty surprises became a cycle. Each time he came back, a trick would be played on him and yet you didn't seem to be offended by the vandal's actions. The cat keeps attacking his leg, bites him, steals his food from the plate, hides his socks in his small bed. What's going on? When he arrives home after a long time, the not-so-innocent-and-not-anymore baby tries to get your attention all the time, acting like it's in pain, all to make you less and less interested in Ganji's long awaited homecoming.

-While being petted by you, it mischievously stares at your love, and he isn't scared to stare back. They watch each other with pure hatred and jealousy. It can last minutes. They are barely blinking... it's like a forever fight who is going to win your attention. Ganji brought a monster into his house.

-"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE..."

-You literally can't cuddle either of them alone. Whenever the other sees you hugging, he has to step in, much to the other's discomfort. Ganji's last straw though was when he found his bat scratched with claws and bite marks. He is rarely angry when he arrives home, but this one time he was extremely grumpy. Do you guys know that feeling when your pet randomly decides to jump on you with all their force? Ganji is a constant victim of that.

-Finally, your boyfriend draws the line. He is tired of being harassed in his own house, by his own child. You wouldn't even be surprised if he told it to find a cat job and help pay the bills. He decides to have a serious chat with you the next morning.

-While he was sleeping, Ganji has had a serious nightmare. He always talked with you about that one dream, the one with the burning building. You know it was very traumatic for him so you always comforted him. But not this time. You were so tired you didn't even wake up, and meanwhile Ganji was shaking and panting, all sweaty. He wishes he wouldn't have to wake you up, but it seems like there is no other choice. Then, suddenly he feels paws touching his bare chest. It's that demon, he thought to himself, expecting the worst to happen, for a goofy cat to make him feel even more down than before. To his surprise, the cat sits on his stomach and begins to, how you like to call it, make biscuits. Ganji quickly feels better, grateful to the little cat he got so jealous of before. Your baby fell asleep together with your lover holding it in his hands. When you woke up to that sight, you felt very moved by the act.

-Some time later, each of them began respecting each other a bit more, "maybe it isn't that bad after all, huh?" Said Ganji. What he didn't know, is that at the same time, his small troublemarker was chewing on his favourite sportswear.

-Let's say, you had to get both of them to your bed and cuddle with each other to calm down the situation...

[🖇️] absolutely devastated that Ganji doesn't have a plushie or anything... i'm like screaming crying peeing and throwing up 💔 well i decided to make an autistic yipee Ganji themed creature... i think i'll also edit my first two hc posts and turn autistic yipee creatures into Naib and William too hehe

#identity v #idv #idv hcs #idv x reader #ganji gupta x reader #ganji gupta #ganji gupta headcanons #idv batter #idv x you #ganji gupta x you

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azsazz · 9 months

Note

small town cass was SO good i love how you incorporated everyone i would love to see small town az and reader angst too if you are ever in the mood for it!! you write angst so well

can no one have their own au anymore? 😭

anyway, small town az below the cut

so small town Az meets you at a party

rhys' beginning of the summer party

he arrives with cassian in the bronco because cassian is persistent

"I know we're going to rhys' mega-mansion that costs more than the town, but the ladies love vintage, Az," he says with a grin, cracking open one of the beers as soon as they turn off of the dirt road onto the privately owned drive that Rhys' house is on

Rhys said he was bringing some people back with him for a visit. the city slickers want to know what their podunk town is all about

not much really, besides drinking, smoking, and country music

When they exit the tree-lined drive and the mansion comes into view, there's already a bunch of vehicles lined up like it's a car show

there's people walking up to the house, and they pass the vanserra brothers carrying a keg, girls with daisy dukes and boots to match

everyone in town comes to these things, even some from the next towns over, even if the drive is a long one

cassian parks where he always does, half on the front stones leading up to the door and half on the grass. he doesn't care, rhys will have the place professionally cleaned before his father gets home from his work trip. if he decides to stop by and isn't tied up with that secretary of his

they hop out and the people trickling into the house offer to help them carry the booze they brought, enough to fill the swimming pool out back

Azriels shoving drinks into the fridge, organizing them in that way he has, when someone asks, "Can i have one of those?"

he looks up and the breath is stolen from his lungs

its you, easily the most beautiful girl he's ever seen

and you're smiling down at him like he's the most handsome man you've ever seen

"I—um, yes, here you go," he stutters, snagging any of the drinks off of the shelf because you didn't specify and his brain has suddenly stopped working

"thanks," you respond with a flirty smile. you stick your hand out to him and offer your name

he immediately tries it out with his last name. in his head.

"azriel," he offers, fighting a smile

your eyes widen, "so you're azriel!" you exclaim, because rhys has told you all about him and cassian and the shenanigans they're gotten up to when they were young

his brows pull taut, confused. how do you know him but he's never heard about you?

he wants to ask but you're cracking open your drink and tarquins greeting him, shoving him to the side for a drink of his own. your friends call you over and you're walking away from him with a "see you later!" called over your shoulder.

azriel thinks its love at first sight

he hasn't worked up the courage to talk to you yet, but he's found out that you're one of rhys cousins. you go to the same school as him up in new york and your parents have gone halfsies on an expensive apartment for you both to share

he doesn't know why you'd opt to spend your summer in their town with nothing to do and no one special to meet

it clicks, when he's in the living room, standing near the mantle of the fireplace while you dance in the center of the room with your friends, toasting jello shots that mor made more than enough of

he's seen pictures of you, the ones sitting on the mantle behind him. there's you, rhys, and mor all together when you're young, arms thrown around each other and smiling your biggest smiles

you're older now, which is why he didn't recognize you, and the picture doesn't even begin to describe your beauty

he wonders if you'll be in town all summer

he tries to talk to you three separate times because you keep glancing his way and that must be a good sign, but each time is interrupted and he doesn't get the chance

he doesn't see you for the rest of the night, nor the day after. he worries he's missed the best thing that's ever walked into the city-limits so he rushes home and pulls out his laptop

azriel has always been good with computers, and it doesn't even hit him that looking you up on the internet is creepy until he's knee-deep in your social medias (even though they're private, you really need to update your passwords), trying to learn everything about you that he can

he finds out that your flight isn't for another two weeks

he finds out where you're from, what you're aspiring to do with your life, how many guys you've dated (clearly you've broken up with them for a reason), where you buy your delicates from (that's when it hits him that he's definitely a fucking creep)

#small town az #azriel headcanons #azriel au

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moderndaycassandra · 7 months

Text

We're both on the sidewalk, walking opposite directions, about to pass each other.

I look at your hair, gently flowing behind as you walk. I try to turn my gaze away, desperate to not seem like I'm staring, but it's too late. You've already noticed, and as you look me over you spot the lesbian flag pin on my purse. You smile to yourself and slow your pace so our pass takes longer. "I like your pin." you say with a hint of playfulness, pointing to my purse. I follow your finger to the flag and blush "Oh, uh, th-thanks. I like your hair." I stutter, face glowing red. You offer a cheeky smile as we walk by, and I turn my gaze to the sidewalk to hide my rosy cheeks.

The next day, we're at the same place again walking opposite directions. We offer another round of simple greetings and compliments. "Good morning!" "It's a cold one today." "Nice shirt, love that band." "New shoes?" This proceeds every day until the seventh. This time, you come to a full stop. "So, where are you headed?" you ask, taking a couple of steps backwards to stay next to me as I slow my pace and look up, meeting your eyes. They shine with sincerity. "Oh, uh, just getting coffee. There's a little cafe just up the road." Taking the unspoken invitation, you turn on your heel and begin to walk with me. "Yeah? Let me guess, Rose's Garden?" "Uh-huh. The one with the cat." "Mind if I tag along?" My brain bursts into flame as my face erupts a beautiful shade of red. I pull my scarf up nonchalantly to try and cover up. "S-sure." We walk in silence for a couple of steps before you grow bored of it. "So. You go to school here?" "N-no. My friend does and they needed a roommate, so I moved in with them. What about you?" "Yeah. Not quite sure what I want though. Just taking gen-ed for a year or two while I figure it out. I think I want to do something with biology maybe." "Heheh, I'm sure you'll....figure it out." My heart is beating so hard I'm surprised you haven't commented on the noise.

We arrive at the coffee shop and order our drinks. We take a table by the window and talk for twenty minutes or so between sips. We talk about our interests, make jokes, and slowly realize we have a lot in common. This becomes our new daily routine. We walk to the cafe, get coffee, and chat for a while, every day. At some point, we trade phone numbers and begin texting during our free time. Every time I see that little (1) pop up on my phone, the flame of passion ignites; I've just gotten a bit more used to it. After a couple of weeks, we start hanging out. You come to my apartment and I introduce you to my roommate, the next week I come to your house and meet your cat. At some point, we start going out. We never say the word date, but you don't go to roller rinks, mini-golf, cinema, attend weddings, and go to fancy dinners if you're just friends. At least, not this frequently, right?

A year or so later, we're lying on our backs on a grassy hill. The ground is chilled from the autumn air, but that doesn't dissuade us. Our laughter dies down from the last joke you told as we stare at the clouds. I point one out that looks like a giraffe, your favorite animal. I turn my head to see if you're looking. And you are, but not at the cloud, you're looking at me. That same sparkle in your eyes and joy in your smile. "I love you." you say quietly. We've both said it before, plenty of times. But always as friends, purely platonic. This time, it's different. Something about those three words feels different. You mean it. "I-" my throat goes dry, the flame in my brain erupts into an inferno and my arm goes limp, dropping into the grass. The edges of my vision fade away as I stare into your eyes. My face grows redder than it ever has before, only this time I don't try to hide it. "I love you too." You reach an arm behind my head and I reach behind your back as we pull each other close. Time loses all meaning as our lips meet and we kiss for the first time. The singular moment feels like it lasted an eternity, yet it wasn't nearly long enough. You pull away, leaving our lipsticks smeared and mixed.

The next year goes by fairly slowly, not too different from the first. Only now, we're not just friends, we're partners. You're my girlfriend, and I'm yours. The passion and excitement still hasn't died down. Years go by, you graduate college and get a job. I go back to school and get my degree. We have two kids and we watch as they grow up and go through school and find themselves partners, just as we found each other. Decades later, one of us dies, leaving the other alone. Which one is which? It doesn't really matter. By this point, our selves are so ingrained into each other that we're incomplete, merely two parts of a whole, but one part is missing. It isn't long before the other passes, and we rejoin in eternity, a loving embrace that lasts forever.

Then, I blink. We're back on the sidewalk that first day and I'm staring at your hair. You notice, then look at my purse. You open your mouth as if to say something, but decide against it.

We pass each other in silence.

#lgbtqia #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #pride #queer #lesbian yearning #sapphic yearning #wlw yearning

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ddemurezy · 1 year

Text

The Witch of Westeros

CHAPTER ONE - what heavy storm brings

disclaimer:

I do not own House of the Dragon nor the Scarlet Witch and her powers. Credits to Marvel and Stan Lee.

gif not mine, I got it from pinterest

this fanfic does not follow the plot of the series nor its books. storyline belongs to me.

note:

I am so so sorry for not updating for weeks, I've been busy with school and friends and christmas. And I also lost my motivation with writing but I'm back now!!

anyway, sorry for the long wait!!

warning:

mention of blood, open wounds, and I think that's all, but if I missed anything, please tell me. !! NOT EDITED !!

-×-

Thunder was heard from the gloomy sky, and a howl of wind passed through the crowd of people from the busy streets of the market. Yells and cries of vendors who desperately call for customers to buy from their shops mixed with the sound of talks of the people passing by, but the only thing you can focus on that leaves their mouths is the topic of the prince's name day.

Prince Joffrey's 12th name day was the only thing people talked about the whole week. And it was tomorrow. However, the king hosted a get-together party tonight and invited a few noble houses to celebrate. Despite not having an invite, the people of King's Landing are hosting dinner feasts in their homes in honour of the prince's day.

Though, you can't say the same. Unlike the others excited about the prince's name day, you were lost.

Five months, that's how long you've been in this...peculiar world. Although, you can't say that the last five months had been treating you with nothing but peace, something you needed after everything. The world you landed in was strange. Nevertheless, it amazes you how it all works. You don't know everything about it yet, but the experience was enough to tell you that it's nothing like the others you've ever been to.

Another rumble from the sky was heard, and it was enough to signal you that rain—perhaps a storm might arrive due to the gloomy weather.

The thought of a storm coming made you quicken your pace. You were making your way home from the market since you decided to shop for food like the others. Though your house wasn't much like a real house, it's more of a cabin. But it was big enough for a family of three.

Your house came into your view a few feet away. It was located nearby the shore and a few miles from the city. The waves from the sea were getting harsher and more vigorous. You internally thank your past self for putting an invisible barrier, a hex, around the house for safety.

Just as you were about to enter, something floating from the sea caught your attention. You don't know what it was, but a small voice in your mind told you to check it out.

Dropping the bags you held to the ground gently enough, not letting anything fall to waste. You position your hand to your side, ready to summon your magic in case it is dangerous you're walking towards.

As you approach the sea, you notice that what is floating isn't a creature or an object. It was a body. A human body.

But you didn't know if they were alive or not.

The thought of a possible dead body floating in the sea made your hesitation go away and run toward the sea, not caring if your skirt got wet. You'll dry it later with magic.

When you got closer to the body, it gave you a good look at them. He was a boy, merely a man. His sleeve was ripped open, and a deep gash on his arm. Blood dripped down from the wound, and it was clear it was still fresh. You pressed your fingers on his pulse, sighing in relief when you realized he was alive.

Not wasting any more time, you waved your hand, lifting the young boy with your magic and snapping your fingers with your free hand, teleporting you and the boy inside your home.

You placed him on the sofa, carefully lifting his wounded arm. You crouched down beside him and started using your magic to heal him.

Once he was fully healed, you took some heavy metal off the armour so he could be more comfortable and used your magic to dry him off. Looking at his wound again, your magic helped it heal, but there was still a dark scar.

You summoned a clean towel to clean off the excess blood on his arm. He stirred a little from your touch, and you thank the gods that he was alright. You softly smiled, bringing your free hand to brush his hair, soothing him back to sleep.

He reminded you of your twins with his dark brunette hair, but he mostly reminded you of your Billy. He was usually the gentle one, keeping his brother out of trouble or, at least, he tried to. You wondered if this young boy is like him too or if he has a brother or sister.

"Oh, Gods." You mumbled, eyes widening in realization. Your hand slowed as your mind became clouded with thoughts. His family, his parents. They must be so worried about him.

Sighing, you continued cleaning his arm and stood up, patting your dress that was still wet. You figured you would ask him when he wakes up. Hopefully, he trusts you enough to tell your where he came from so you can bring him back to safety.

-×-

The storm wasn't stopping anytime soon, so you thought you could make a nice warm soup for you and the boy when he woke up. It was a cold, chilly night, and you changed into a more comfortable dress to keep you warm. You noticed the young boy was shivering from the cold, so you brought a nice fur blanket and wrapped it around him.

You sat on the stool, looking out the window as you got lost in your thoughts, thinking about, well...everything.

This world was different, but it somehow felt familiar to you. You weren't a nostalgic person, per se. But you do value things, especially memories.

You sighed blissfully, the sound of heavy rain dropping from the skies with thunder following. It was the same weather when you first arrived, and it caused you a sense of deja vu. You still remember what happened months ago.

But before you could get lost in your thoughts again, you heard a groan behind you. He's awake.

You turned to see him sitting up, looking around, confused. You felt bad for the young boy. "You're awake," You spoke in a soft tone.

He turned in surprise before standing up quickly. "W-who are you? Where am I?" He urgently asked in a shaky tone.

You sent him a soft smile, hoping to ease him. "You're in my house, dear. I found you in the sea with a deep wound in your arm and brought you here before you lost more blood and healed you." You explained to him.

He seemed speechless for a second as if he couldn't believe he was still alive. Was the accident he was in so bad that he is contemplating his survival?

"Thank you," The young boy said, looking down shyly before looking you in the eye. "Thank you for healing me, my lady."

You smiled at him, "Of course, it's no problem." Just then, you remember the food you made. "Oh, I made some food if you want some. It's still warm, perfect for the weather."

He seemed hesitant, but his stomach let out a grumble. His gaze dropped to his stomach, frowning as if he felt betrayed. You chuckled, gesturing for him to sit on the stool on the other side. You then stood up and got him a bowl of food, placing it on his side of the table.

"Come, don't be shy." You sent him a gentle smile. He eventually gave in and sat on the stool. You observed as he took his first bite, and seeing his eyes light up made you smile wider.

"Are you feeling better?" You asked, trying to make small talk but also concerned about his health.

He looked up and nodded, "Yes, my lady. I feel a lot better."

"Oh, please, call me Y/n." You insisted.

"If you insist, my lad- I mean, Y/n. My name's Lucerys," Lucerys said, nodding his head respectfully.

For some reason, the name felt familiar to you. Sure, you heard it from somewhere before. Lucerys...Lucerys Velaryon, oh gods, he's a prince. The son of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Leanor Velaryon, but he and his brothers were rumoured to be bastards. You knew better than to assume things, although the people in the city were sure of it. Anyway, it's not like your opinion mattered.

"You're a prince." You pointed out, trying to be calm so he wouldn't freak out.

Lucerys looked around before sighing. "Yes, I am a prince. And I assure you, lady Y/n, that I mean no harm to you and your family."

"I am not worried about that, dear." You assured him, standing up from your chair. "Tea?" you offered, placing two cups on the table. He nodded, muttering a small 'please' and 'thank you' before taking a bite of his food.

Another thunder was heard from outside, startling Lucerys a little. You looked out the window and saw the rain getting heavier.

"Lucerys, honey," You started, and the young boy looked at you, "I don't think the storm is going to end soon. Should you stay here for the night until the storm stop, we will figure out how to bring you back to the princess safely," you suggested.

"Oh, no, no. I couldn't intrude, my lady." He declined, shaking his head and taking a sip of his tea.

"Don't worry, dear. You're not intruding." You said, putting away your plate and cup. "I have two rooms and extra clothes for you to be comfortable." Lucerys was undecided, but when he looked at the hardy storm outside, he eventually agreed.

You guided him to one of the empty rooms you had and gave him spare clothes to change into.

"Lady Y/n," Lucerys called before you could close the door.

"Yes, Luke?" He insisted that you call him that instead of his full name just a while ago when you showed him the room.

"Thank you for this, all of this." He said, smiling at you shyly, but there was a grateful look on his face to show that he was completely genuine.

You smiled back at him, but the more you looked at him, he kept reminding you of your Billy. "You're welcome," you replied, nodding your head before closing the door.

You hoped that you could bring him home safely tomorrow to his family.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @floralenvu @scarwicht @todod0kii

#hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #wanda maximoff #x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #lucerys strong x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #hotd fic

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clubdionysus · 1 month

Text

[BAD DECISION #9] White

warnings: birdie time he he. honestly just very wholesome all round, but the embers are burningggg, they’re very wet! fantastic! (1) mention of Hang Sơn Đoòng (worlds biggest cave).

soundtrack: lemon - loco, hwasa; safety zone - j-hope

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist

It's mid-morning the following Monday when Jeongguk's message lands in your inbox. The sky is free of clouds, sun beating down on the windows of the subway carriage you're in. It's above ground, crossing the river.

Summer is reaching the end of its peak, but monsoons are still a looming threat. There have been weather warnings all month, but today seems okay. You've an umbrella tucked into your tote just in case, legs crossed as you flick through your notifications on the subway.

Three unread messages sit pretty at the top of your inbox.

Jeongguk: Still on for today?

Danbi: u, me, ryan reynolds in lycra, tonight. game?

Seokjin: such a tease, you know i love those shorts on you - if memory serves me correctly they were off far more than they were on whenever you wore them ;) you around tonight?

Jeongguk is probably the only one who needs a reply, and yet you can't help but stare at Seokjin's message for a little longer than you should.

If Danbi knew you were texting him, she'd probably confiscate your phone, like your parents used to do during your teen years. Jeongguk would probably throw all your stupid little origami birds at you. Would hope you'd get a paper cut.

It'd be deserved, you think.

Jeongguk had wasted his entire Sunday on you as a result of Seokjin's carelessness. You didn't leave until Jimin had taken a nap on the couch at just gone six, your day full of mindless chatter and harmless distractions from Seokjin. It had been nice. Comforting.

And yet when you'd arrived home, a text had been waiting from Seokjin:

heyyy, sorry I had to rush off. didn't wanna wake you. you looked toooo cute. was so nice to see you again.

It's kind of embarrassing, the way your heart seemed to settle at the sight of it; like things were as they should be once more.

You told yourself that Seokjin hadn't meant to upset you. That it was all a big misunderstanding.

He said everything you wanted him to in that message. Said sorry. Maybe he didn't give you an excuse nor an explanation, but he did give you a compliment, and that had you giggling.

Had you thinking that maybe you'd been reactive, and were too highly strung. Perhaps he was never the issue. What if it was you?

Still, it's Jeongguk's message thread you tap through to instead - yeah, just on the subway now! we're still meeting there?

You contemplate whether or not you want to tell him that you've spoken to Seokjin later. He'll no doubt ask about him, with a sneer on his lips, nose upturned at the mere thought of him.

And so naturally, you know you'll lie. "No. Not heard from him."

It's not that you want to be dishonest. Not in the slightest.

You're no stranger to a white lie or two, but Jeongguk had scooped up all of your broken pieces in the early hours of yesterday morning, and tried to washi tape them back together - only for you to run straight back to the person holding a sledgehammer.

You don't want to be reckless with the care Jeongguk's afforded to you; it's just that while Jin's got a sledgehammer in one hand, it also looks like he's got super glue in the other. It's a little bit stronger than washi tape.

Especially Jeongguk's rolls of washi tape; which are the entire reason why you're spending your day off on the subway, and not tucked up in bed, instead.

Jeongguk had devised a plan following the fall of your origami bird, but had neglected to tell you exactly what that plan was.

Had said "look, I won't lie - I can't help you with this. Gimmie the evening to think of a plan, though? I'll text you later."

He'd texted you an address by the time you'd arrived home. Told you not to search it up; said he'd meet you there at midday. Kind of felt like a challenge, and you don't like losing - so you'd done as he'd said. Other than putting the address into Naver maps to find the route, you were none the wiser as to where you were headed.

The subway leads you to the outskirts of town. Down by the river, just a little further up from the arboretum you always tell yourself you should visit more often. You're local to the city, but it's so vast that there are still areas you aren't too familiar with. This is one of them. You know what's in the general area - the arboretum, an old water park, and some museums, but you've no idea what the exact address could be.

As you climb the stairs, you're regretful of the fact you actually listened to Jeongguk. Should have looked up the address beforehand. Seen what was about; what dress code would have been appropriate.

Denim shorts hug your curves, and a little white blouse sits prettily on your shoulders. You're making the most of the summer while it lasts; skin exposed, despite the judgement thrown your way by the ajummas you pass on the street.

A mirror selfie had been sent to Seokjin before you'd left the house, in reply to his collarbone-wielding, broad shoulder-baring bed selfie. His hair had been messy, and there was a little pink mark on his neck. You're pretty sure you left it there. Didn't wanna focus on it for too long just in case you realised that you... didn't.

There had been a little tactful positioning of your phone in front of your face when you took your photo. Had been covering your eyes. Hiding the glitter.

And it's funny, 'cause it's the first thing that Jeongguk notices when he spots you.

You're looking around, realising exactly where you are, a frown slowly forming. He'd expected nothing less. You always arrive with a small frown whenever he's around - but he also always manages to get you beaming, too. It's part of the charm that comes with being around Jeongguk. Bad moods dissolve into nothingness.

He smiles, just like he always does. Waves. Throws you not one, but two peace signs. His thin lips plumpen into a pout as he wiggles his shoulders, the ease of acting childishly coming naturally when he's around you.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He glows as if he hadn't seen you less than twenty-four hours ago.

Strolling towards you, he ignores the slight scowl that's resting on your neat brows. Just continues smiling. All doe-eyed and dainty. Hopes you won't be able to resist breaking into a smile, too.

He likes your glitter today. It's just in the corners of your eyes. Thinks you look like a fairy.

"I'm wearing white!" is all you can say, a little exasperation clouding your words, before laughter begins to tumble from your lips whether you want it to or not. "You asshole! You should have warned me!"

Jeongguk's wearing all black. A pair of shorts, a long sleeve swimming shirt and one of his many oversized black t-shirts over the top. See, he's dressed according to his plans - the plans that he neglected to share with you.

But he's a man. How much can you really expect from him? You doubt he's ever had to run home in the middle of a thunderstorm with his arms crossed over his chest to protect his modesty. Doubt his eyes have ever felt the unwelcome intrusion of sodden mascara running into them.

"Oh, chill out, Disco Ball," he banters, rolling his eyes as he twiddles his lip ring with his tongue. He comes to a stop in front of you. Pouts. Pushes his lips to the side, and his cheek slowly rises like a freshly baked loaf of bread. "It's only a little water. Worst comes to the worst, we'll just buy you another shirt."

When Jeongguk says it's only a 'little water,' he's telling a big fat lie.

You're both well aware that 'little' is hardly the appropriate word to use.

Not when you're standing next to the entrance of the largest outdoor waterpark in the city.

You don't want to say definitively, but you think it might be the largest waterpark in the entire district. Biggest you've ever been to, that's for sure, not that you really make a habit of it.

"Look," he says. "You're the one who wrote the bird, not me. Blame yourself."

"And you're the one who didn't give me a dress code," you reply with a small scoff. He's unbelievable.

It's not like he was ever supposed to see your birds. Your intention had only ever been for the pair of you to vent out your frustration; to see them in black and white and maybe colour them in.

"You could have just looked at Naver. Seen where you were going."

"You told me not to!"

Jeongguk smirks to himself, a little pleased with how much you seem to have blindly trusted him. He also thinks it's incredibly foolish, and adds it to his list of things he needs to worry about in the future. While it's him that you're mindlessly following the orders of, it's okay, he supposes. Knows you're safe. Nothing to worry about right now.

"You'll be fine, Byeol," he says, hooking an arm around your neck, rubbing his knuckles against the crown of your head. You don't even bother to scramble away, sensing his grip tighten when your back edges out from his grasp. With arms like his, you're ensnared whether you like it or not. "You bring your bird?"

He keeps his arm locked around your neck, resting on your shoulders, but stands a little straighter as you head in direction of the waterpark. His relaxed posture allows you to rummage around in your tote bag for the small piece of folded paper. It's in the bottom, a little crumpled, but still quite clearly in bird form.

Jeongguk pinches it from you as soon as you retrieve it, not seeming to care much for the fact that it's your bird. You're locked in by his arms as he strengthens some of the creases that have fallen lax thanks to the lack of attention you'd been paying when you tossed it into the bag.

"You're gonna give yourself bad bird luck," he tells you. "Gotta preserve them, Byeol, or otherwise you'll never overcome your fears."

"I'm not really sure we'll be overcoming any fears today," you mutter in response.

He takes great offence to this. Tells you to 'stop being a negative Nancy', and that 'you'll never overcome your fears with an attitude like that'. You pinch him through his shirt. He recoils away from you, finally giving you a little room to breathe.

And then he calls you a goblin.

"That's rich," you snort, peering into your bag once again to get your wallet, shooing his hands away as he brings out his own wallet from his shorts pocket. "Nah, this is on me. My fear. I'll pay."

There's an attempt from him to protest, but you just tell the cashier you're paying for two, and there's very little he can do about it. He feels bad. This is, after all, his idea. He gave you no wiggle room. You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him.

A bathroom? Maybe.

But not here.

"Absolutely not," you had exclaimed yesterday afternoon after reading the bird. Jeongguk couldn't stop laughing. "Stop! You'll give me a complex."

He hadn't meant to find it so funny - he was just taken by surprise. It's a reflex.

"No, no," he cooed. "It's cute. Really sweet, actually. Should have told me last night. Could have actually done something about it."

It was at that point that you flicked him on the forehead. Told him to go touch some grass. Get his head out of his ass.

And then, finally, you told him, "You're never showering with me."

In typical Jeongguk fashion, he'd just smirked. Found your defensiveness funny. "And nor is anyone else, apparently."

The bird resting on Jeongguk's stomach was laying flat, open on your words:

SHOWER WITH SOMEONE ELSE.

He thinks it's the all caps that cracked him up so much. So aggressive. So cute. A bit like you.

Showers had been one of your favourite forms of intimacy during past relationships. You'd even found it fun with casual hookups.

But now?

Feels forbidden. Tarnished. Dirty.

It's almost as if someone else running their hands over your skin beneath the water will rid you of the stain that Seokjin left - and if you're not his, whose are you?

It's stupid because you don't belong to anyone but yourself. You'd spent months resenting the removal of your identity, but now that you have the chance to reclaim it, you're still letting his mark remain.

You had told Jeongguk later that afternoon - with absolute certainty - that he'd never be facing that fear with you, only for him to say, "it doesn't have to be that big of a deal. I'll prove it to you."

And now he's trying to do exactly that.

He leads as you follow and make your way into the park. It's been a fair few years since your last visit, but it always looks the same; paint work a little tatty, white watermarks tarnishing pipes, and slightly dated equipment available for hire. In fact, you think the inflatables sitting pretty and ready for renting might be the same ones you used as a child on family trips.

"Still don't understand how on earth this is supposed to help me with my fear of intimacy," you speak softly once Jeongguk is done telling you about the tallest waterslide in the world. It's in Brazil, and he insists that he doesn't understand why on earth they called it Kilimanjaro when it's not even remotely close in height nor geographical location.

You tell him he's pedantic and he smiles as if you've just given him a gold star.

"It's helping because we're making it less scary," Jeongguk states all very plainly. Seems simple to him. His logical mind leaps from A to B, while yours is still spiralling round and round like a hula-hoop. "What do you do in the shower?"

"When I'm with someone else?" You raise a brow. "Not sure I want to say it out loud in a kid's waterpark."

"Oh, ew, no, not that part. I mean the basics," he sighs, before choosing just to answer for you. "You get wet. That's the first hurdle."

"Gguk, that's barely even the first meter," you counter. "And after that? There's still a billion hurdles left to jump."

"Well, you have to start somewhere, don't you?" He nudges his shoulder against yours, before spotting the concessions store up ahead. "See. Told you you'd be able to buy a shirt. Here."

He hands you his wallet, only for you to pass it right back.

"It's good, I'll get it."

"I dragged you here."

"And I'm the one who made that stupid bird," you laugh. "It's fine. Tell you what though, if they only have ugly shirts, you're gonna have to get one too. Can't be doing this alone."

"Watcha mean?"

"Well look at you," you shrug, as if it's plainly obvious. "You're in all black and - not that I agree with this, but - I'm sure some people will find you 'okay' looking. You know all the yummy mummies are gonna be swooning over you instead of looking after their kids."

"Swooning?" He grins with a small chortle. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Byeol?"

You gasp, and take a step away from him. "Are you saying I look like a mother?"

This, he decides rather quickly, is dangerous. You almost sound like you're flirting. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it, just that he knows he shouldn't indulge himself and yet-

"Maybe I'm into MILFs."

You've a remarkably good poker face. He can't tell if you're actually annoyed, until you look at him with a small smile. It's hidden by the sultry, tempestuous expression you're throwing his way, but definitely still there.

"So first I'm a mother, and now you wanna fuck me? Well, aren't you full of surprises?"

If there's one thing Jeongguk enjoys, it's a girl who knows how to twist words. Regretfully, it always gets him thinking about other ways they could twist their tongues. The thoughts are unsavoury. Sordid. Lewd.

But you're you.

You're off-limits, and he knows better than to play with fire. He needs to get you wet.

Just, like, not in that way.

"I'll put you under that fountain if you don't stop twisting my words," he asserts as you walk through the park. To your right is a pool, with bright slides twisting in all directions around it. Families play, and laughter prevails. It's nice.

To your left is a row of spouting fountains for kids to run through, water pitter-pattering against the warm concrete floor. They're tall enough that even Jeongguk could stand beneath them without issue. You always think they look like reverse umbrellas; water pouring where protection should be.

Puddles of water interrupt the walkway, but neither of you care all that much.

"Maybe if you got your head out your ass and stopped flirting-"

"Not flirting."

You scoff as sarcasm wraps itself around your words. "Yeah, and I'm a MILF."

He pauses. Stops walking. Laughs.

"Right," Jeongguk says. "That's it."

It's said in a tone so light and airy that you almost don't realise he's wrapping his arms around you with a grip tight enough to crack a rib. Your playful shrieks are ignored by other park visitors, chalked up to you being a pair of young lovers enjoying the frivolity of a waterpark together.

"I'm in white!" is your final cry before he pulls you under the cascade of a fountain with him.

The worst part of it, you think, is how goddamn happy he sounds, laughing at your misery.

"And I told you to stop twisting my words, Byeol," he says like the bastard he is, while you struggle against him again. Finally releasing you, he keeps a clasp on your wrists to prevent you from straying. "You made your choice."

"I made no such thing," you wail, but the stream of water has you spluttering - and then you're laughing.

Laughing just like he is; like how you imagine Galileo would have laughed when he first pointed his telescope skyward, and saw the rings of Saturn. It's unadulterated. Blissful. Pure.

Jeongguk loosens his grip on your wrists. He rests his elbows on your shoulders, using his hands to create a barrier between the stream of water and your eyes. There's glitter on your cheeks, now, forced to part way with your eyes thanks to the water pressure, and Jeongguk finds himself grinning at how you manage to look like a party even in the middle of the day.

Perhaps he's a lot more like Galileo than you first thought. Maybe he's laughing because he's looking at the stars, too.

Water barrels down on the pair of you, soaking your hair, your clothes, your skin. It's heavy, the pressure of the fountain far heavier than a shower, but you suppose the outcome is the same.

You don't want to look at Jeongguk with anything but moderate vexation, and yet there's a fond smile tugging at your lips.

Strands of wet hair stick to his face, droplets catching on his lashes and falling down his cheeks. He shakes like a dog caught out in the rain, only to continue getting drenched because he doesn't move from the fountains trajectory. It'd be so easy for him to just manoeuvre himself out of the fountain's direct line and hold you in place, but he chooses to be caught up in it, too. Chooses to be with you. Experience with you.

You'd done his bird together. Only fair for him to do yours with you.

"You still scared, Byeol?" Jeongguk asks, voice quiet beneath the water pummeling down on you both, and yet it has your attention loud and clear.

You want to banter back, say something that will get tripping on his words just like you seem to be - but the rope tied around your ankles seems to be around your tongue, too. Instead, you just shake your head.

"See," he smiles, now. Pulls a hand away from your forehead to wipe at his. Puts it back. "Are showers really that scary?"

And then you do laugh. "It's not a shower. You know it isn't even close."

His face scrunches, water catching in all of his little ridges.

He'll admit the water is annoying. Keeps having to close his eyes. It's bothersome, and it's not like he even cares for boundaries anymore at this point, so-

Fuck it.

His pinkies are against your forehead, index fingers outward. He lowers his head, mirroring you. Rests his forehead against his index fingers. Swears. Can finally fucking see.

And now that he can?

He's looking at you.

With his head angled to such a degree that your chins couldn't be further apart, you still manage to fool yourself to believe that your lashes could brush.

"It's as close as we'll get to one," he counters. "You are showering with another person."

"I'm under a stream of water with another person."

"And how is that any different to showering with someone?"

He isn't stupid. He knows the answer. Knows that you're pedantic enough to go into all the clauses and stipulations that would ever stop this from being classed as a shower - and so he doesn't let you.

Instead, he pulls away, grabbing your wrist as he does so. Leads you further into the park with a smile so big you're surprised he doesn't dislocate his jaw.

"That's the hard part done," he assures you. "You've had a shower with someone. Say thank you."

There's an acute awareness between you both that he's not helped you to overcome your fear in the slightest - but he does have you laughing as you walk through the park, absolutely sodden, without a single care in the world. You're not even bothered by the fact your black bra is visible through the soaked fabric of your shirt.

See, Jeongguk's gotten you relaxed in a situation when you know you'd typically be frantic. He's taking the pressure off. Got you giggling. Got you facing a fear, even if it's not exactly how he set out to do so, nor the fear in question.

In his defence, he really had thought his contrived little plan would count. He'd have never insisted on actually taking a shower with you. He understands why you consider them so intimate. He does, too. Something about the vulnerability really gets him. It's not even the sex that inevitably comes with one that makes him weak at the knees.

He thinks of the girl who folded paper butterflies for him, and how he'd shampoo her hair, chest pressed to her back, and the fact it was in the confines of his bathroom that he realised he was in love with her.

So, Jeongguk gets it. It's why he wouldn't even consider anything but his dumb little waterpark shower as a remedy of your insecurities. He hopes a lesson is learned even if a fear isn't overcome: you can let down your guard without giving up all of you.

What it comes down to, you think, is that Jeongguk isn't a taker. He's not a giver, either, really - but when your walls start to crack and crumble, he doesn't intrude. Stands at a safe distance. Offer you back your bricks. Most men you knew would see a weakness in your defences and claim what's yours as their own.

He's not always been this way. Used to have a 'what's yours is mine' understanding of his relationships, too.

His butterfly girl had taught him that no, just because he was given temporary access to something didn't mean it was his. He'd learnt the hard way after he'd always swapped his heart with hers, not realising she'd ever want it back.

And so while Jeongguk will never fully understand whatever you went through - not unless you choose to share it with him - he can empathise. Treat you how he wished someone would have treated him while he was still healing.

As the clouds migrate across the sky, fluffy white shapes occasionally hiding the careful watch of the sun, the day rolls into stupid competitions and races down the tallest slides in the park. The reason you'd ended up here doesn't seem to matter.

Jeongguk races you to the top of the slides again, and again, and again, just to try and beat you down them. He never wins.

Not until you hold back by just a millisecond.

It's just enough to give him a slight edge, and have him roaring in victory - "ha! suck it! loser!" - as he slaps at the water, a smile larger than Hang Sơn Đoòng eclipsing any desire you had to win. You'll let him have this one. Let him have one victory.

The haze of late-afternoon sun grazes down on the pair of you, while you lounge by the 'adults-only' pool area. A lot of families have gone home already, but sometimes it's nice to be away from the shrieks of kids messing about in the water.

You're not exactly the maternal type. In fact, Jeongguk's the one who's been pointing out how cute the kids are in their little armbands and sprout hairstyles. He's not wrong. They're incredibly adorable - you're just not that naturally inclined to go 'awww'.

It's all swings and roundabouts, though. Getting away from kids meant being surrounded by, well, some less wholesome auras.

Jeongguk thinks he notices it first; the unwelcome gaze of a middle-aged man. He's felt it for a little while. Upwards of ten minutes. Thinks you're none the wiser. Tries to figure out what's so fucking interesting. Stares him out a little bit - but is ignored.

See, the man - who is probably old enough to be your father - isn't looking at Jeongguk at all. Too busy staring at you, and that shirt of yours which is still yet to dry out. You're on your back, sunning yourself, clothes sodden and sticking to your skin.

Jeongguk thinks you look no different to anyone else in the park. It's typical to wear regular clothes in places like these. Would be more shocking if you were in a bikini. And so while yes, he has noticed the fact your bra is dark, he couldn't tell you the colour because he's been trying not to look. Actively avoiding it, actually.

Annoyance isn't something that Jeongguk's ever been able to hide well.

As he sucks in a little bit of air between his teeth and mutters a small curse to himself, you glance over.

"Hmm?" you ask.

It's not like you don't know the man's staring. You had warned Jeongguk about your attire earlier. Was always gonna happen. He just hadn't realised that this was the reason why you'd been so insistent about the fact he was an asshole for not giving you a dress code.

Realistically, you could have bought a second shirt - but the pair of you got distracted. Didn't care so much when you were laughing and joking about how you both look like rats with your hair all wet.

"Here," he says, tugging on his shirt at the nape of his neck. There's resistance, the weight of the water dragging against his skin, but he pays it no mind as he pulls the shirt over his head. You're still laying down on your back, and turn onto your front with a small grin.

"Y'know if I really was all that bothered, I'd just do this," you say, talking about your change in position. It's not that you want the man to stare - you just know he will regardless. Know that your shorts have ridden up a little, and so he's getting a whole new type of show.

Jeongguk doesn't laugh. Smiles, but doesn't let it reach his eyes. Leans over and drapes the fabric of his shirt over the top of your legs. Over your ass. "You'll burn."

"I'm wearing suncream," you purr, knowing that this has nothing to do with keeping your skin safe.

And so Jeongguk just shrugs. Considers staying silent. Chooses not to.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he almost growls beneath his breath, feigning indifference through his body language. "But I don't."

"You saying you can't help yourself?" You tease, to which he just rolls his eyes and lays back down.

"I can help myself perfectly well," he says, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek. "Just didn't finish my sentence."

"Oh?" you chirp with great curiosity.

There's a boldness to the way you're engaging in conversation with him. Makes you realise that Jeongguk is just the same as any other boy. He can see you as a sexual object, apparently. Just chooses not to. It's all very interesting.

"He might wanna stare, Byeol," he repeats, crossing his arms over his torso, a defensiveness to his posture, even when he's flat on his back. "But I don't want him to."

Though his eyes remain closed, Jeongguk can hear you move to sit on your knees.

Your back is to the sleazebag, Jeongguk shirt bunching by your heels. You pull it around and bundle it in your lap, mouth resting open in a slight stare of shock.

Unspoken words beg for him to look at you.

But he doesn't. Keeps his eyes firmly shut. Grins. Just says, "Lie back down, Byeol."

The worst part is that you want to. You really do. When his voice is that low, the look on his face that cocky, you want to fold like a sheet of fucking origami paper. Have him bending you about like one of those damn birds.

But then you take a second to think, and realise you're no better than that guy who is still staring at you so intensely you're surprised he doesn't burst a blood vessel. Makes you feel bad. Guilty.

So instead you toss Jeongguk his shirt back and, as you stand, say, "I've a fear of intimacy, Jeongguk. No fear in telling men to fuck off."

He's not surprised by your response. Quite amused by it. Sits up on his elbows. Watches with curiosity as you walk away from him - and then is stunned to see you beeline for the man.

It's the kind of thing he'd see in a movie, background characters slowing to a stop, time ceasing to move except for the leading lady.

And then you're pointing. Accusing. Jeongguk's not sure of what - he can't hear you from this far away - but he knows it isn't nice. Watches the blood drain from the man's face. He's ghostly. And then it all returns, red and raw, with such a vengeance he's surprised blood doesn't start leaking from his nose.

When you turn on your heel, Jeongguk observes with morbid novelty at the scene unfolding; the intense shame on the man's face and the pure brilliance on yours.

"Men," you sigh, as you sit back down next to him. Mirroring his position, you're up on your elbows until you casually let yourself fall back into your original position. "Sorry, where were we? You told me to lie down? Done."

Jeongguk doesn't say anything. Just grins. Collapses back down, too. Doesn't tell you to cover up. Knows better.

Doesn't shut up about it for the rest of the day, though.

Relays the story to you as if you weren't there - weren't central to it - with so much animation that you think he might turn into a cartoon on the subway home.

He's still talking about it between the part where he invites you back for dinner - "Jimin's gonna be in but it's cool. We haven't eaten all day, you must be starving." - and the part where he stands by your door, taking a whole twenty minutes to say goodbye.

You've declined the offer. Told him it'd be a bit weird seeing Jimin. Wouldn't know how to explain it. Jeongguk just says "of course, yeah, you're right. Didn't even think of that. My bad."

There's a little silence afterwards. You know why. It's rejection. Not romantic, nor for anything serious, but it's still the same difference. He'd spent the day trying to help you break down walls only for you to put your bricks on top of his.

It's as he's heading down your stairs (after his fifteenth and final 'bye') that you realise how rude you've been. Just 'cause you wouldn't feel entirely welcome at his doesn't mean he's not welcome at yours.

"Hey, wait a sec! Danbi's home, but do you wanna eat here?" You chance. "We don't have much in, but I can order or we can-"

"My God, I thought you'd never ask," he grins immediately turning on his heel and back towards you. "So hungry I might die."

"You won't."

"I could."

The pair of you bicker as you enter your apartment, Danbi glancing up from the sofa. She looks at you, then looks at Jeongguk, and takes a second to place his face. Definitely knows it - and then it clicks.

She considers asking why the fuck your favourite barman is following you in. He's known within the confines of your apartment as the Barman That Smiles (more commonly referred to as BTS boy), Jeongguk's name a secret just for you to know. Danbi doesn't realise all of those nights you waste are the bar are wasted on him, nor does she realise he's the reason you snuck off the other night.

What she does wonder, however, is if this is all part of your master-get-revenge-on-Seokjin-plan.

Instead of voicing any of these queries, she settles on "what are we having for dinner?"

You shrug. "Ask Jeongguk. He's paying."

He raises a brow as if to question your assertion - only for him to cough up the bill for the pizza delivery that feeds the three of you through a Deadpool rewatch.

When he leaves, Danbi tells him he has to come back next week for Deadpool 2. You grin as you walk him out.

"She just wants you to pay for more food," you tell and he nods. Says he knows.

But then he calls back over to Danbi, "See you next week."

She does a little cheer, and it's all very sweet. They get on well. His humour is welcome in your apartment, and so is his presence. Danbi also hopes it means she'll get more free drinks next time she's at the club.

"She'll play you like a damn fiddle if you let her," you warn just out of her earshot.

"Good," he grins. "We can double date with you and Jimin."

You tell him to fuck off - but also insist that he lets you know when he gets home. The way you care about him is so casual that it feels as if it's been this way for years.

As he heads on home, Jeongguk kind of hopes it will be. Hopes it's the kind of friendship that stands the test of time. Worries that he shouldn't take the flirting too far - but then he's distracted by the little fleck of glitter on the top of his hand. His thoughts are lost, a smile unwinding on his lips as he strolls back to his place.

The skies are void of stars tonight, and yet, for the first time in months, Jeongguk's eyes are full of them.

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#by holly #jk #jeongguk fanfic #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jeongguk fic #bartender!jungkook #BD #bad decisions #bangtan #bts fanfic #dappleddaisies

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