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#birthdays and you're the first!! so here's a little set for you lovely <3

solaireverie · 7 days

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op81 | best he'll ever write

summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later

faceclaim: gracie abrams

author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!

[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others

geotag: melbourne, australia

yourusername short break down under 🐨

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user great race at the australian gp y/n!

↪ user first points of the season let's goooo

↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌

logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺

↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤

↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂

user the puppy is so adorable 🥺

↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets

oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...

↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉

↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭

↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺

oscarpiastri has added to their story

seen by yourusername, logansargeant, jennyhan and 124,203 others

you replied to oscarpiastri's story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!

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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺

↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it

oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍

↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤

user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀

↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜

↪ user hello what 😳😳😳

↪ user oh my sweet summer child...

liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.

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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐

↪ yourusername 🤭

↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this

yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍

↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭

↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle

williamsracing signed copy when 😏

↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡

user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀

↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind

↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝

↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂

↪ logansargeant what???

↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality

↪ yourusername lando... 😒

user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?

↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3

#solwriting #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 smau #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic

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familyvideostevie · 5 months

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steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

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Hi! I'm issy. Welcome to my nsfw blog. All my works are intended for adult consumption only. If you are a minor, i.e. under the age of 18, please do not interact. If I suspect you’re a minor, you will be blocked. If you are of age, and you're interested in literature about blue fictional aliens, then I hope you enjoy! Here, you can access all of my current and upcoming works, and other general information. Please do not repost any of my works to any other site without my permission.

⊱Heats/Ruts/Knotting Info ⊱Request Rules/Info [currently closed] ⊱Writing Help ⊱AO3 ⊱Wattpad ⊱All characters are of age, or aged up.

⸻Neteyam Sully

Neteyam's First Rut Series:

⊱Chapter I: Neteyam's First Rut ⊱Chapter II: Tying the Knot ⊱Chapter III: The Heat Within ⊱Chapter IV: A Synchronous Fever ⊱Chapter V: With My Life ⊱Chapter VI: To Set Ablaze ⊱Chapter VII: Moment of Truth

Special Episodes:

⊱Special Ep. I - Insaitable ⊱Special Ep. II - At First Sight [prequel]

Sub-Neteyam:

⊱Sub-Neteyam One Shot - Bound (bdsm; edging) ⊱Sub-Neteyam One Shot - Hide and Peek (exhibition kink)

Dom-Neteyam:

⊱Forgiven - Forgive Me Part II (mirror sex)

Misc. Neteyam:

⊱Jealous-Neteyam One Shot - Eyes for You ⊱Comforting-Neteyam One Shot - All Your Curves

Clingy Neteyam:

⊱Part I ⊱Part II ⊱Part III

⸻Lo'ak Sully

Non-Unrequited Love Trilogy (lo’ak in rut):

⊱Part I - slight smut ⊱Part II - pure smut ⊱Part III - smutty smut

Special Episodes:

⊱Special Ep. I - Inextinguishable ⊱Special Ep. II - Twin Flame [double pov] ⊱Special Ep. III - Ashes [double pov]

Sub-Lo'ak:

⊱Sub-Lo'ak One Shot - Prized Obsession (edging lo'ak)

Dom-Lo’ak:

⊱Is that So? ⊱Handle Me - Part I ⊱ Part II

⸻Neteyam Sully + Lo'ak Sully

Make Your Choice Mini Series (w/ alternative endings):

⊱Make Your Choice: Part I ⊱ Part II (possibly dark) ⊱Make Your Choice Endings: Neteyam ⊱ Lo'ak ⊱ Both

⸻Ao'nung

Ao'nung in Rut:

⊱Behind the Façade Part I ⊱Behind the Façade Part II (coming soon)

⸻Rotxo

⊱Sub-Rotxo One Shot: Feel Better

⸻Jake Sully

⊱Forgive Me ft. Neteyam Sully (dark) ; Part II ⊱Little Secret ft. Lo'ak Sully (dark) ; part II (coming soon)

⊱A Night to Remember - Birthday Sex (for my dani <3)

⸻Ralak te Sepwan Ieyk (collab w/ @zestys-stuff)

⊱Chapter I ⊱Chapter II ⊱Chapter III ⊱Chapter IV ⊱Chapter V

Special Episodes:

⊱Special Ep. I - Ralak’s First Rut ⊱Special Ep. II - Concurrent Tides ⊱Special Ep. III - Calm After the Storm ⊱Special Ep. IV - Seed of Life ⊱Special Ep. V - TBA (coming soon) ⊱Special Ep. VI - TBA (coming soon)

⸻HighIssyTalks (click me)

⊱blurbs/drabbles ⊱get to know me ⊱high questions + answers + thoughts ⊱neteyam talks ⊱aonung talks ⊱loak talks ⊱jake talks ⊱read it all under #high issy talks

⸻NSFW Alphabet

⊱Lo'ak Sully + Neteyam Sully ⊱Tonowari + Jake Sully (coming soon)

⸻My Emoji Anons

⊱🐬🦩📖⚡️🍪⚰️💍🙊💦🫧🩰🧿🪅🕸🦋🦦🌳 🏹 🏵️ 🧜‍♀️ 🍱 🔮🌵❤️‍🔥 🥮🌱🐋🐚🍀 🌹 🤺👄 🌺🩷

#high issy talks #lo'ak avatar #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar x you #avatar smut #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak sully #lo'ak x y/n #loak smut #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam smut

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lovelyhan · 1 year

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— 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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zorrasucia · 9 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy.

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper.

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time.

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded.

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you.

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed.

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate.

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto.

"So, you know?" he asked after a while.

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed.

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal.

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?"

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine.

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff.

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly.

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy."

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while.

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return.

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle.

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath.

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face.

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you."

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy."

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave.

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice.

Call me when you get home?

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy.

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement.

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said.

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it.

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks.

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?"

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing.

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?"

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts.

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed.

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back.

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning.

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly.

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle.

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet.

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like.

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat.

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath.

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer.

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands.

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order.

You nodded frantically.

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?"

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined.

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled.

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him.

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream.

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?"

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh.

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply.

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that.

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that."

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised.

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked.

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly.

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you.

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table.

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life.

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time.

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright.

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures.

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect.

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you.

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek.

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

#still not done with this apparently #soon the virgin!carmy tag will be completely obsolete and it makes me a little sad #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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nebulousbrainsoup · 4 months

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Silk & Spice [Teaser]

SUMMARY: You're here to forget your worries, and who better to help you than not just one but two beautiful men? Here's hoping you haven't bit off more than you can chew. PAIRING: incubi!jihan x fem!reader GENRE: smut (none this teaser), suggestive AU/TROPE: demon au WORD COUNT: 548 this teaser WARNINGS: party setting, evil twins evil twinning RATING: mature A/N: happy birthday to shua! i'd love to be posting the full version of this today, but my winter collabs have taken over my life. so here's a little teaser from the standalone prequel to the rest of the demonteen universe featured in my halloween mini collab with @justhere4kpop. huge shout out to @hobeemin for the banner and dividers <3 i am in love with them masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

Your overly carefree attitude was what drew Joshua toward you in the first place, a hint of something sour lacing your otherwise pleasant scent. It was a front, clearly; one he fully intended to break through. He flashed a smirk over his shoulder as he dropped Jeonghan’s hand and carefully sidled up next to you, his brother following suit on your other side. Your eyes blinked open as your arm brushed against the elder, startling and stumbling back into Joshua’s chest. He reached a careful hand out to steady you, meeting your wide, doe-eyed stare with a soft smile.

“I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to startle you,” he called over the music, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture once you were steady. “You just looked like you were having so much fun, we were hoping we could join you.”

Your eyes narrowed warily, and Jeonghan flashed a smirk from over your shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at him in challenge. The look was gone quickly as you turned, letting your eyes drag over him before you returned it to Joshua, giving him the same treatment. On any normal night, you’d scoff and turn them away without a second thought. With your recent rejection fresh in your mind, though, the prospect of a night spent with one or both of the gorgeous men beside you was a very appealing one. Their presence was intoxicating already, and you felt yourself leaning subconsciously into them. Slowly, the tension in your body eased, a smirk spreading over your features.

“I don’t see why not.”

Joshua grinned, taking half a step closer to you as he finally let his gaze rake over your body. “Fantastic,” he practically purred, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. “I’m Joshua, by the way.”

Before you could return his greeting, you were cut off, his friend’s arms settling loosely on your hips as he settled behind you. “Jeonghan,” he muttered, his breath sending a shudder down your spine.

“Y/N,” you breathed, leaning back into him. “I’m Y/N. I take it you two are a package deal?”

They both chuckled to themselves as Joshua slotted himself in front of you, taking your hands and settling them on his shoulders. “You don’t seem too bothered by that.”

You hummed, shaking your head as you let yourself melt between the pair, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you to dull the noise of the party. “Bothered? No. Curious, yes,” you hummed, reaching up to card a hand into Joshua’s hair. “Why do you need little ol’ me when you’ve got each other?”

To your surprise, the quieter man behind you barked a laugh, his grip tightening on your hips. “You misunderstand, lovely. We’re not interested in one another. We just happen to have similar tastes.” You grinned, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. The darkness in his gaze sent a shudder down your spine. “And a penchant for competition.”

Breath catching in your throat, you turned your startled gaze back to the man in front of you. He wore a similar expression to his friend as he pressed further into your space, sandwiching you between them. “What do you say, darling? Care to find out who can please you better?”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong smut #hong jisoo smut #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #svt #seventeen #nebulous write #neb.svt #neb.s&s

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junnieverse · 7 months

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FUTURE SON IN LAW ➳ P. JONGSEONG

➙ synopsis: you had been together with jay for a little over a year now and your parents were constantly on your case asking about this special boyfriend of yours. what you weren't expecting was how much they loved him, dare i say even more than you?

pairing: non idol!jay park x afab!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers au

word count: 1.3k

request: " hiii! can i pls request jay meeting your parents for the first time? i just read your “jay as your bf” one and need more husband material jay!! <3 thank u babes :) "

warnings: not proofread

a/n: thanks for this sweet req anon, I think we can all agree husband material jay is the best there is.

"I feel sick." you say opening up a window to get some fresh air into the car.

"You're more worried about today than I am love, breathe okay, everything is going to go well." jay tells you as he holds your one hand keeping the other on the steering wheel.

Today was d-day.

You were finally introducing your boyfriend Jay to your parents.

It's not that you didn't want your parents to meet your boyfriend, it's more so worrying because he would be the first guy you'd be formally introducing them to and not knowing how that could go scared you.

Now no man was perfect, you could attest to that, but Jay was sure damn near perfect in every aspect you could possibly imagine.

A dream come true some might even say.

So why were you losing your mind and growing more anxious the closer you got to the restaurant you were supposed to meet them.

"We're here. Don't overthink it, I don't want you going in there stressing yourself. You ready?" jay asks before kissing your forehead and you nod.

Being the first out of the car, he walks over to your side opening the door for you as he takes your hand in his getting out the car approaching the restaurant.

Walking in, you begin scanning the venue and spot your family around a large table conversing.

It was your niece's birthday today and so your sister thought a small intimate family dinner would be nice after the birthday party she had with friends during the day.

This also seemed like the perfect way to introduce your boyfriend to your family and most importantly, your parents.

Looking over to Jay once more, you smoothen out his suit as you adjust his tie, you couldn't believe you got to call this guy your boyfriend.

You clutch onto Jay's hand a little tighter and finally walk to the table and your six year old niece was the first to notice you both.

"Aunt (y/n)!" she screams excitedly as she ran over to you jumping into your arms.

"Hi sweetie, happy birthday." you tell her hugging her tightly.

"Thank you." she sweetly says still holding on to you not paying any mind to Jay solely focusing on you.

"Good evening everyone. I hope you don't mind, but I brought a very special date with me today." you say nervously as Jay politely bows before out stretching his hand to shake everyone's.

"I'm Jay Park. (Y/n)'s boyfriend." he formally introduces himself as your dad chokes on the glass of water he was drinking.

Since the formalities were now settled, the table seemed to have turned into an investigation room.

Your sister didn't really have much to say since she had already heard about Jay from you (he was all you spoke about) and she could tell how happy he made you and that was enough to approve of him in her books.

Your parents were nailing the poor guy with all these questions but Jay assured you that this was nothing and it was a 'rite of passage' to be questioned by their significant other's parents.

He made sure he answered all their questions to the best of his ability and he was seemingly doing well and they were all impressed.

"So when did you two meet?" your mom asks looking between the two of you.

"It was about a year ago. We have the same mutual friend and he thought we both had personalities that could really match and we would get along and decided to set us up during a group hang out." jay tells them smiling over at you.

It felt like all your worries were washing away with each question, all of them were answered impeccably and you should've known Jay would've handled this incredibly.

"So any plans after getting your degree?" your dad asks him.

"I want to go into culinary full time, I'm already working towards opening up my own restaurant one day and hopefully I can also get your blessing to marry your daughter around that time in the future too." he confidently says which seems to have left the entire table in shock, including you.

Marriage was a topic you and Jay had lightly went over in the past but hearing him say this for the first time made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

He was slowly but surely winning over your parents.

Your niece on the other hand may need a bit more convincing.

She moved from the seat beside her mom and forcefully sat between you and Jay because she wanted to 'sit next to her favourite person' (her mom was holding back tears at this point).

"Aunt (y/n), I think this man is stealing you away from me." she whispers in your ear pouting as she picked at her food.

"Oh no sweetie, my boyfriend Jay is a great person. Maybe if you talk to him a bit more you'll see how funny and cool he is and why I think you'll like him too." you laugh softly brushing a hair out of her face as she hesitantly nods.

"I love your daughter sir. She has definitely shown me a different perspective to life that I didn't notice before and now I can't imagine any part of my life without her." you overhear Jay say to your dad as he nods with his pokerface on display but you could see the corners of his lips curling into a small smile.

By the end of the night, it felt as if Jay was part of the family and he had known everyone for years now.

Taking in the sight of him with your niece almost brought tears to your eyes too.

Her little hand was holding onto his pinky as she told him about how she wanted to be a rockstar when she grows up after Jay told her he could play the guitar.

This all felt like the perfect way to end the night.

"Oh honey, why didn't you introduce us to Jay sooner, he's amazing." your mother lighty hits your arm before squeezing you in a tight hug.

"I'm just glad you didn't bring around some druggie kid angel." your dad says leaving a kiss on your forehead before hugging you as well.

"I didn't know how either of you would react or how this relationship would go so I didn't didn't to introduce him too early." you tell them looking down.

"If you break up I'm coming for you, not him. He is so in love with you that he might as well tattoo it across his forehead." your sister chimes in watching her daughter still with Jay as she laughed at a joke he made.

"Don't say it too loud, he might actually hear you and do it. And I do not plan on breaking up, I can't lose Jay." you jokingly say before adding in that last part.

Meeting your family went way better than you had expected and all that relief seeped in as you sat in Jay's car after saying goodbye to your family.

"See I told you everything would go well." jay says and you only nod accepting defeat that you stressed over nothing and that Jay was right.

"Hate to say it but I think they like you more than me. You're their future son in law in their eyes now." you admit feeling betrayed by your own family.

"Well I'm just glad that they like me. They have to since I'm in love with their daughter." he says.

He holds onto your hand kissing the back of your palm and you felt yourself falling in love with Jay all over again.

"Thank you." you say to him giving him a tight hug over the seat as he hugs you back rubbing your back gently.

"For what love?" he asks chuckling at your sudden behaviour.

"Everything really. I just appreciate you." you admit letting out a sigh.

"Well I appreciate you too. How about we go home now and have a movie marathon date, I'll make you whatever you want." he suggests and you laugh softly.

"How can I not marry you when you're this amazing, husband material at its finest. You better put a ring on it Jongseong."

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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02/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Rhys Darby; Samba BTS; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; HowToHelp; Petition Embed; Queerties Last Day; IRL Outreach Assets; New Watch Parties; Visual Rep of SaveOFMD Effort; Fan Spotlight; Collages; OurFlagMeansBooze; Articles; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Wow everyone, crazy day again. Day 2 of BTS Darbygeddon. I'm actually going to set a google calendar reminder for tomorrow between 1-2 in case Samba decides to drop another doozy on us. Hope you all had a good day. Here's the highlights-- there's more I would have liked to add but I need to get permission first, so I'll hopefully have them up tomorrow. As always, please let me know if I missed anything <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Back again with another Cameo is Rhys for our lovely crewmate @Kellykat53 over on twitter! Thank you so much for sharing this with us Kelly, it's a lovely little inspirational video, definitely gives us plenty of Vitamin RD (as @scorpiostarseed would say). Check out the Cameo

= Saint Samba Schutte =

I've seen several people mention that Samba is a Saint (sorry not sure who started it to attribute it) so going forward, that will be his name. SO MANY BTS pictures and videos. My goodness. Has it even been a day since the last Merstede dump? It has, but damn, here we are with the BOYFRIEND video, and the nipple scratching, and oh look it's Buttons from the Cryptid Factor! As always, if you have access to instagram, please check out these posts on Samba and Rhys' posts/stories.

Videos on Tumblr:

Boyfriends - ty @blakbonnet!

Merstede - ty @kiwistede!

English Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Cursed Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Steard Nips - ty @kiwistede!

Rhysently Granted Reunion - ty @kiwistede!

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico voiced the new novel "The Diablo's Curse "by New York Times Best Seller Gabe Cole Novoa! I know some of you are huge Vico fans so wanted to mention it, you can purchase the audio book here. Src: Vico's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

Are you in New York? Our Pirate Queen will be at the #TonyKiserTheater NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26 at 6:30PM for a one night only reading of On The Evolutionary Function of Shame, by D.A. Mindell - For more details visit here.

== How to Help ==

Hey all! We're adding some things to the daily task lists (and taking some off). Here they are!

= Petition Embed Code =

Looking to easily embed the petition link in your AO3 fic, or maybe your email? @sonnetforbonnet was kind enough to provide us with some embeds you can use! Please visit the repo for the codes!

= Last day for Queerties! =

Please remember to vote! Today's the last day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

= IRL Outreach Assets =

== New Watch Parties Coming Up! ==

The Pirates! Watch Party! This is a family friendly movie so bring the kids! Or the adults-- or anyone you know, really, as long as it's not against their will! Sunday March 3rd, 3 PM EST, 12 PM PST, 8 PM GMT!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurPirateCaptain

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Visual Representation of Fandom Efforts to SOFMD ==

Remember our friends that had the in person Matelotage Processional? Well they're back with a funny video illustrating the fandom efforts of Save OFMD!

Fangirlfoto's Instagram Don't have instagram? See the video on the repo here.

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

Thank you once again to @wndrngnomad on twitter for all their awesome collages dedicated to the Cast and Crew! Day 21: Calypso's Birthday! Perfectly timed considering the lovely Boyfriend themed BTS we got today! Catch-Up: Day 2: Madeleine Sami!

= Our Flag Means Booze! =

Our absolutely brilliant crew-mate @quiet-compassion over on tumblr has been designing OFMD Themed Drinks since the show was dropped by Max! These not only have super fun and creative names you'll all recognise, but an amazing array of flavours too! If you're 21+ (in the US) or the appropriate age for drinking in your country, feel free to try them out! As always, please drink responsibly! Are you celebrating with Moonglow Manifesting? Why not try the "Moon Glow" cocktail for the end of the event! Want to see ALL their concoctions? Head on over to the repo, they're all there!

== Articles ==

17 Facts and Easter Eggs about OurFlagMeansDeath That will Get you On Board - 17 Fakten und Easter Eggs zu „Our Flag Means Death“, die dich ins Boot holen - ty @AddieH on twitter

Max: The 34 Absolute Best TV Shows to Watch

==Morale ==

Hey crew. I've been hearing some scuttlebutt around the deck that people are starting to worry again about whether or not s3 is going to happen. The love notes section is already pretty long so I'm not gonna go too crazy up here too -- instead I'm going to just point out that David Jenkins, while not active and posting things for us right now, is sneakily poking around in Samba and Rhys' BTS comments. He's still there, he's still watching, and I think he can tell we're all feeling the high from Samba's releases. Don't give up hope, these things take time. They're gonna get there. I'm gonna add the trends to this section today because I think it's important to see what we did today:

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating since I know a lot of you are struggling right now.

Just a gentle reminder that if your brain is telling you that there's something wrong with you, or that you've done something wrong or embarrassing -- it's lying to you.

There's been so much dopamine from all the excitement lately with the BTS, that it has to come down at some point, and when it does, your brain will sometimes over-compensate and you start feeling maybe worse than you did before.

This is totally normal, it really is. Our brains are glorious complex pathways of unmeasurable brilliance, and yet a simple hormone change can make that same brain tell us that we're not enough, or we're not worthy.

I am here to remind you, you are so very much enough.

No matter what is happening in your life-- in your job, in your personal relationships, in your family, in your school, anywhere--

YOU ARE ENOUGH, EXACTLY HOW YOU ARE.

If you feel like you've failed, or you've let someone down, just know you are STILL enough. We all fail, it's how we learn.

We pick ourselves back up and we try again, and if we fail again--

We're STILL enough, and we are still worthy of love and comfort.

Eventually you will succeed. You will get there, and all the while while you work on it, YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

I know it's so hard to see when you're feeling small, but I see you all every day, and I am awe-struck at your constant ability to band together and not only find love and support, but give it so freely and lovingly.

A simple @ to someone, alerting them to something they'd like

A love note in dms or on a tumblr post

A gif or picture or video brought to tumblr from some other platform so others can see them.

Writing a fic or drawing a picture.

A reblog with tags, goofy or not

Anon Asks showing people you support how they feel about a given topic

Liking a post.

These are all love notes. No matter how public or private, they're all there and they all add up eventually to form this wonderful community and you've been kicking ass at love.

I know we all look like we're having a good time, but a lot of us are struggling silently, and yet we're finding ways to reach out to one another and spread love to help us all get through. Love isn't always positivity, it can be commiseration, or frustration on behalf of someone. You all are finding the best ways to help your crew, and I'm so very proud of you.

You all are capable, creative, gifted, beautious piles of stardust smooshed together into one wonderfully unique package, and you are so very loved.

You are enough,

You are loved,

and THINGS WILL GET BETTER Lovelies.

Get some rest <3 You got this.

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

What can I say, I literally can't not include this Rhys gif today. It's physically impossible, please forgive me. Good fucking lord, I'm going to Costa Rica now. Also, sorry I tried to get a matching Taika gif, but I have run out of brain cells. Hopefully this one will suffice.

Rhys - Courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

Taika - Courtesy of @studiomoon

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #taika waititi #rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #vico ortiz #ruibo qian #save ofmd #saveofmd #save our flag means death #ofmd bts #samba schutte #saint samba schutte

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rewh0re · 1 year

Text

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS

Kuroo's child was growing. She's 3 and he's an emotional father.

Ft. Kuroo Tetsurou x fem!reader

She/her pronouns, use of the word 'mama'. Idk what this is tbh all ik is that dad kuroo was eating me up especially girl dad kuroo so I wrote this in like 45 mins. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

"And that's your Mama when she was graduating high school," Kuroo pointed at the photo album kept on the coffee table showing a picture of you beaming brightly at the camera to your 3 year old girl.

"Waaahhhh Mama is so pretty!" Your little daughter was in awe as she mirrored your grin. She really did have your smile, Kuroo thought.

"Isn't she just?" Kuroo smiled a little to himself as he reminisced about your highschool days starting from when he smacked your face with a volleyball in your first year to graduating together. He remembered the moments where you yelled at him after getting hit, the gradual shared whispers and chuckles in between classes and the few times you cried on his shoulder on the Nekoma High staircase.

"Papa, what does graduating mean?" Your daughter looked up expectantly at her father.

"Well graduation is the ending of your school life and going into college," Kuroo tried to explain the term as best as he could but the little girl looked as confused as ever.

"What's college? Will I also graduate someday and go to this college?"

"You most definitely will and your mama and papa will be there with you marveling at how much you have grown up when you do," Kuroo laughed a bit as he voiced out his thoughts. God, his daughter was growing and she was growing fast. She was 3 already, it seemed like just yesterday that he was holding her in his arms and shedding tears of joy in the hospital.

"What's happening here?" You appeared, still a bit drowsy from your afternoon nap as you took the seat beside your daughter.

"I'm showing Fumiko our photo album. She was looking at your high school picture," Kuroo smiled at you as you turned the page to the picture you adored the most. The day your daughter was born.

It was a picture set in the hospital room where Kuroo was sitting on the chair beside your bed looking at you and the little baby in your arms with all the love in the world.

"That's you baby," you told Fumiko as you pointed to her in your arms.

"Look how small you were, a tiny bundle of joy. Your papa cried when he saw you, you know," you laughed as you told Fumiko the story of how Kuroo couldn't stop crying for an hour after getting to hold his baby girl.

"Did I make papa sad?" Your little girl looked at you with wide eyes.

"Quite the opposite sweetheart. I was a bit too happy," Kuroo turned the page to a picture of his friends holding Fumiko and then to her first birthday.

"Then why were you crying?"

"Well sometimes there are moments that are filled with so much joy that we cry because of it. Someday, years later when you hold your child, you too, will cry a bit," he took her hand and held it as he explained. He looked at her with so much love and he realized that his child was growing up and soon she'd be in middle school then high school and will probably be heartbroken a few times along the way. Kuroo will definitely give the person who hurts her hell. In a few years, he realized, it'll be her picture in her graduation attire as she beams up at him kept in the album instead of yours.

"Gosh child you're growing up too fast. Stop growing," he hugged her tight as the thought of his little girl someday getting married crossed his mind.

"Tetsu, she's meant to grow up," you laughed a bit at your husband's antics.

"No. She's meant to be my little girl forever," you laughed at his words as your child protested to be freed from the tight grasp of her now very emotional father.

"Papa I have plenty of time till I grow up," she broke free from his grasp and you looked at Kuroo and your little daughter. You can never get over and never get enough of Kuroo's fatherly side. He looks at Fumiko with so much love, adoration, care and gentleness that it never fails to bring a faint smile to your face. You realize as you look at the little light hearted argument the two are having and realize that yes, your baby, the baby you felt like had come to this world just yesterday, was growing up too soon. Kuroo was right. It was a bittersweet feeling. You could only chuckle at their antics.

"Well even if Fumiko grows up really soon, she will always be Mama and Papa's little girl. Am I right, Fumi?" You hugged your little daughter from behind and kissed her chubby cheeks.

"I will always be Mama and Papa's little girl!" Fumiko laughed, which showed the gaps where her two front teeth should've been.

"I know you will, sweets. I will not let it be any other way," Kuroo joined in your hug and really, to be in love with your husband and having a little daughter to care for and adore, you really wouldn't have it any other way. Your little family was the only thing in the world that mattered in this very moment.

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wintabite · 10 days

Text

celebrating jay

GENRE! fluff

NOTES! gn!reader, reader and jay live in an apartment together, wc: 506

SYNOPSIS! after a long day of work, jay just wants to come home to his partner and enjoy his special day

as you added the finishing touches on the cake you had just spent hours on baking and decorating, you heard the door of the apartment open. excitedly, you ran towards your boyfriend who had finally came home, he immediately opened his arms for you, which you gladly found your way into, burying your face into his chest. it was dim, the only light coming from the kitchen, and the atmosphere was so cozy and welcoming, just what jay needed after a long day of work.

"it smells sweet" he broke the silence after a few seconds. the moment jay had entered, the sweet smell of a fresh baked cake and vanilla frosting was the first thing he noticed.

"wanna find out why?" you looked up at him as you spoke. ever since you two started dating, there has been a birthday ritual of baking and decorating homemade cakes for each other. seems pretty normal, but it was always something you and him looked forward to. he smiled and nodded, taking off his shoes, then following you into the kitchen. on the counter stood a little blue gift and a white cake decorated with light blue flowers. the smile which was already on his face grew even more, his eyes twinkling with admiration for your improved baking skill.

"open your gift!" you said excitedly. you had been waiting for this moment all week, and finally it was here. you couldn't wait to see his reaction to what you got him. he did as you told him, and his eyes widened when he took it out of the bag.

"oh, yn, it's beautiful.." he whispered, causing you to grin brightly. he took out a custom made diamond necklace which had both of your initials on it. it looked expensive, but shined under the light of the kitchen.

"there's something else too!" you let him know as he put the necklace on.

"oh?" he put his hand back in the bag and took out the other item, it was a little bottle of a perfume he's had his eye on for a while. he placed the item on the counter and pulled you into a hug again out of appreciation. "you know me so well"

"i also know you're tired, so i made dinner and set up a movie for us, then we can have the cake after" you replied. you had been planning this for quite a while, wanting it to be just right, because you knew you two would go out on the weekend to celebrate a bit better, like always.

"i'm gonna marry you some day.." he whispered as you two made your way to the living room, you carrying the cake. his favourite, curry, was set on the coffee table as a random movie you thought looked cool was set up on the tv, needing to be unpaused.

the rest of the night was spent, cuddling, laughing talking, and eating. it was so comfortable and loving, just the right way to end the day. <3

a/n: happy jay day! i dyed my hair today

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen jay #park jongseong #jay x reader #jongseong x reader

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kamaluhkhan · 1 year

Text

if it's real, if it's sweet

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: you and shuri are pretty much living in domestic bliss, until a double date leads to a revelation about your relationship. your reconciliation involves you fucking shuri like no other girl has before and giving shuri the best orgasm(s) of her life (and vice versa). let's just say....the two of you live happily ever after <3

warnings: fluff, angst (reader and shuri have an argument), and smut!! mostly sub!shuri, oral (reader and shuri receiving), spitting, squirting, strap-on, tribbing...enjoy :)

song inspo: "cherry" by FLETCHER and hayley kiyoko

a/n: hello! this fic is kind of a part 2 of my first fic i'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain) but not much context is needed. there is a lot of plot and smut is mostly at the end. this is set between endgame and wakanda forever. i might do a part 3 that would be very angsty, so stay tuned. also if you're wondering my fancast for harry osborn it's jonathan daviss and for peter parker it's nico hiraga (sorry tom holland!)

"fuck, shuri," you moaned as her tongue touched your folds. "we don't have time for this...."

you had class in an hour and shuri had to get to work, but the combination of the hot water hitting your skin and shuri's tongue in your cunt was something you did not want to give up just yet - even if you didn't want to admit it.

"usana," shuri scolded, looking up at you innocently, as if she wasn't the one who decided to push you against the shower wall and get on her knees in front of you. "it was your idea to shower together this morning."

"well, sorry for wanting to save water," you breathed, your grip tightening on her curls. "the planet is dying."

shuri pulled away from you once more, lips shining with your slick. "well, i didn't realize you cared so much about the environment. if that's all this is...." she got up to her feet and turned off the water. "we better get going, pretty girl."

you whined at the loss of contact and clenched your thighs together at the nickname, something that did not go unnoticed by shuri. shuri ran her tongue across her bottom lip before leaning forward to kiss you, your back pushed against the cool tile and the taste of you faint on her tongue.

hearing your alarm go off reminded you that there were other responsibilities you each had to attend to. reluctantly, the two of you dried off and made your way to your (shared) bedroom. you put on a matching bright orange boyshort / bralette combo before slipping on some jeans and an orange cropped sweater, and moving on to your makeup.

as you got ready, you watched in the mirror as shuri looked in the closet for something to wear, currently only dressed in black briefs and a sports bra. once she picked out an outfit, her eyes caught yours in the mirror.

"what?" she asked, slipping on a white mesh top.

you smiled, swiping on some orange eyeshadow (shuri might have been the princess of wakanda, but you were the queen of coordination). even though shuri was moving in at the end of the month -- she needed to go tie up some loose ends in wakanda before coming to live in new york long term -- you loved how comfortably she already fit into your life here. you loved seeing her clothes in your closet, the lava lamp she spotted at a thrift store on the corner of the desk, the photobooth strip of the two of you at a surprise birthday party you'd thrown her last weekend (everyone had a great time and danced and drank until late....needless to say you and shuri showed up very hungover to pepper potts' baby shower the next morning). you loved how you could smell your papaya body wash on her skin. you loved waking up with her arm around your waist, how she mumbled in her sleep about calculations she needed to get done. you loved how she took the subway with you to class, how she visited you at work when you had a slow shift. the two of you had been together for a few years, but your lives had never been this intertwined.

"nothing," you finally responded, finishing with a layer of mango lip gloss on your lips. "don't forget we have that double date tonight."

shuri groaned. "do we have to?"

you didn't particularly want to have dinner with your roommate and his (somewhat) pretentious boyfriend either, but peter parker has been your best friend and partner in crime-fighting for years as well. you owed it to him to give harry osborn a chance.

"if harry's spending more time with pete, it means he'll be spending more time here, so it's probably best that we all get along," you reasoned. you walked over to where shuri was examining her outfit in the full length mirror and wrapped your arms around her waist. she leaned back into your chest, sighing. "please?" you trailed kisses down her neck for good measure.

"fine, i'll do it."

"amazing!" you planted one last kiss on the corner of her mouth before pulling away and gathering your things for class. "the dinner's at 7, but we should probably come back here to change into something nicer. maybe we can meet here and walk over together?"

shuri nodded just as another alarm went off from your phone. "how many alarms do you have?"

"too many, as necessary as they may be," you declared brightly, pressing the cancel button and kissing shuri one last time. you pulled away and she groaned, taking the opportunity to move your shirt slightly and leave bites on your exposed collarbone. you checked the time on your phone.

maybe you could spare a little more time.

the double date was at some fancy italian restaurant in the upper west side. you each ordered pasta dishes and harry ordered a bottle of red wine for the table. the wine came quickly, but given how busy the restaurant was, you anticipated your food would take longer. meanwhile, the conversation flowed naturally from awkward small talk about the weather, to current tv show obsessions (you and shuri were bingeing project runway), to work at oscorp (where you, peter, and harry were interns), and finally to college classes. that's how you found yourself ranting about the lecture in your molecular engineering class from that afternoon.

"i mean no offense to tony - loved the guy - but i know for a fact that my super smart sexy girlfriend cracked that technology years before he did," you declared. "so the fact that my professor -- this white woman, by the way -- uplifts stark tech as the beacon of the future is total bullshit."

"that is total bullshit," harry agreed. "colonizers gonna colonize, i guess."

shuri laughed, a sound you would never get tired of hearing. she had her right arm casually draped across the back of your chair as she held her glass in her left hand, taking occasional sips.

"i mean most of the avengers use nanotech now, right?" harry was directing his question at you, since to his knowledge you were the only avenger at the table, but peter seemed to have forgot that he had a secret identity.

"most of us, yeah," peter answered. you nudged his foot under the table. "ow!" he exclaimed, but once he looked at you, he realized his slip up. "most of them," he corrected, chuckling awkwardly and avoiding harry's gaze. "at least that's what i can gather from my stark internship."

it took a lot in you to not roll your eyes at the fact that peter was still using the 'stark internship' excuse, but harry seemed to buy it.

"anyways, y/n, finish your story," peter suggested.

"well, that's basically what i said in class," you explained.

"that your super smart sexy girlfriend cracked nanotechnology years before tony stark?" shuri wondered.

you shrugged. "pretty much. i also said something about colonizers, but i forget what exactly."

shuri grinned. "that's my girl," she leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

a few waiters came over to bring plates full of pasta, and you all thanked them. your stomach grumbled at the delicious smell, a reminder that you had barely eating all day in between classes. you were so ready to dig in to some quality fettucine alfredo.

"you guys really are a power couple," harry pointed out, gesturing between you and shuri as you started to eat. "how long have you two been together?"

you swallowed a mouthful of pasta. "well, we met right after the avengers split up because of the sokovia accords," you started, clearing your throat. it certainly wasn't your favorite time of your life, but something good obviously did come from that time. if none of it happened, you might not have gotten together with shuri.

"steve dropped me off in wakanda -- i was freshly 18 and he was worried what would happen to me if i went back to new york. so, i stayed there for a while and that's how i met this one." you nudged shuri playfully with your elbow, and she moved a hand under the table to squeeze your upper thigh. "she showed me around, we worked in the lab together and we were friends for a while, of course, but our first non-platonic date was the night before i left wakanda. she brought be up to the top of mount bashenga, we shared a bottle of mango soju that t'challa brought back from korea and then we...." you trailed off, not wanting to necessarily go into the physical details of your first time together. "long story short, we've been girlfriends ever since."

"well, that wasn't our first official date, though," shuri said, taking a sip of her wine.

"oh?" you tilted your head, wondering if your memory was off. but, no, you were sure. it was the night before you left wakanda - it couldn't have been before and it couldn't have been later. your entire relationship had been long distance until recently.

"i visited you in the fall," shuri recounted. "you took me to magnolia bakery to get that banana pudding, we walked around central park, and then we slept together in your dorm while your roommate was at a frat party - that was when we became exclusive."

you chewed slowly, ingesting her words. "that was a few months after i left wakanda though." shuri nodded. "we were already together."

"yeah," shuri agreed. "but weren't exclusive."

"okay, you keep saying that word." at this point, you had completely forgotten your dinner and your double date. "what does that mean, though?"

"like, we were seeing other people," shuri stated casually. she was still eating her pasta, and you grabbed the fork out of her hand. "i wasn't finished with that."

"so you were sleeping with other people? while we were together?"

"well...yeah."

peter's mouth practically dropped to the floor, and harry almost choked on a piece of penne.

you, on the other hand, were silent, frozen. it shouldn't have been that big of a deal - maybe you would have agreed to do the whole friends with benefits thing - but you and shuri clearly hadn't been on the same page. you fell for her, hard and fast, but it didn't seem like she would say the same for you. and you were sure that you'd had the are we exclusive? conversation before you parted ways.

suddenly, your avengers buzzer (an addition made at the request of carol danvers - she swore by them) went off.

harry cleared his throat. "avengers business?"

"yeah," you replied, dropping shuri's fork back in her plate. you glanced at peter, who just shook his head slightly. he would have to sit this one out. "i have to go."

shuri started to call out your name, but you were already out the door.

when you got home later that night, shuri was still up, sitting in the living room with one lamp on. she hadn't changed from dinner, still wearing her patterned suit, but had unbuttoned the top even more. she looked way too good, and if you weren't currently frustrated at her, you would have suggested going to the bedroom right away.

"peter is sleeping at harry's."

"okay," you replied crisply.

you walked to your bedroom and removed your supersuit, looking for some comfortable clothes to wear. your entire body ached, your head throbbing.

"are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to shut me out?"

you groaned, way too exhausted after dealing with a flying green goblin terrorizing midtown. you didn't want to have to deal with this right now. searching through your drawers, you eventually found some sleep shorts and the i <3 wakanda t-shirt shuri had gotten you as a joke.

"i'm tired, shuri." you sat on the bed and started rubbing some lavender body butter on your arms and legs.

"no, you're angry," shuri countered, leaning against the doorframe and watching you go through your nightly ritual.

"can't i be both?" you got up, took off your bra, and slipped on your shorts. you turned to shuri just in time to watch her stare at your bare chest before you finally put on your t-shirt.

"look, you have nothing to be angry about. those first few months, we were keeping it casual, yeah? we were -- how do you americans call it -- friends with benefit."

the way she stated it as though she was explaining scientific theories, the way she was being so casual now like you were overreacting, sent a wave of frustration through your body.

"you can't be fucking serious right now!"

"i don't understand why this is such a big deal! it was years ago!"

you scoffed. "i thought that what we had was real from the start, okay? friends with benefits only works when there are no strings attached, and i remember us very clearly having strings attached. there's no way i would have - i don't know - been so vulnerable with you if i thought it was just sex."

"that's the friend part," shuri continued matter-of-factly. she finally walked into the room, removing her suit jacket and unbuttoning her shirt even more. before long, her top half was only covered by a black sports bra.

you scoffed. "if that's how you act with friends, then i seriously think you need to follow up with the rest of the girls you fucked at the time. how many were there, anyways?"

shuri hesitated.

"answer the question, shuri," you snapped.

"i like sex, you know that! you weren't there, so i had to find other girls to sleep with."

"yeah, i like sex, too! and normally i wouldn't judge you, but we had agreed--"

"we had not agreed ---"

"we had!

"can we agree to disagree? what's the big deal anyways?"

"well, the big deal is that while you were busy sleeping with other girls, i was in my dorm, waiting to spend all my international minutes on a call that would go to voicemail because - oh !- you were apparently busy sleeping with other girls!"

"i kept telling you to use the kimoyo beads i gave you," shuri mumbled.

"are serious right now?" you exclaimed. "i spent most of that semester waiting for you, thinking about you - and you probably couldn't have cared less! i was stressed and lonely and - yeah, i'll say it - horny, while i could have been out having fun too."

"that's not my fault," shuri scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "i doubt you missed that many opportunities."

"oh? how can you be so sure?"

"well, no one knew that you were an avenger then."

when you first started being an avenger, you were a kid. it wasn't until well after you were 18, after the accords and in a desperate plea to get steve and the others to return, that you revealed your identity to the world, press conference and all. which meant that shuri had a point: during your first semester at empire state university, no one knew that you were an avenger.

"so you're saying that girls would only fuck me if they thought i was a superhero?"

"i'm not saying that's the only reason, but it is a big one."

it took a second for the implication of her words to fully sink in. suddenly, the room felt smaller and you hated every reminder that you and shuri were building a life, here, together.

"is that why we got together in the first place? you wanted to fuck a superhero?"

shuri froze, as if she too just understood the turn your argument had taken.

"shuri. answer the fucking question. is that the reason we got together?" her silence made you claustrophobic, and, again, you were way too tired to deal with this. "i'm gonna sleep at mj's." you were about to grab your phone and keys before shuri stopped you.

"wait. baby, please wait," she pleaded. "i didn't mean -- just, let me explain, okay? please."

you looked at her, jaw tense and eyes searching yours, and you couldn't resist. you just had to hear her out. she sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing at you to join her, but you remained standing, arms crossed and waiting for an explanation.

"maybe....maybe i was intrigued by the fact you were an avenger. i thought you were so cool and badass and i wanted to know you, like really know you. and once i did, i couldn't help but fall for you. i wanted to be with you."

"yeah, you fucking other girls really reflects that."

"let me finish," shuri sighed. "when you went back to new york, i didn't think we'd last. i was scared that our time together in wakanda was just some short, passionate fling for you and you'd forget all about me. or, worse, you'd realize that you just want to be friends and i would be stuck alone, pining for you. sleeping with other people was just a protective measure, i guess."

while you were surprised by her confession, you didn't feel entirely satisfied. you did, however, finally sit on the bed next to her. "you didn't think to talk to me about any of this? to ask whether or not i was invested in our relationship?"

"i'm good with calculations, y/n, not people."

being this close to her, you couldn't help but stare at shuri: at the way her jaw looked sharper in the moonlight, her eyes darker, her lips slightly parted as she waited for you to say something.

"i guess it would have been nice to know how much you thought about me," you whispered.

shuri brings her hand up your thigh and under your shirt, stroking the skin underneath your breast with her thumb. you shuddered at the contact.

"i thought about you all the time. bast, i even called other girls by your name during sex. multiple times."

weirdly, you felt a little proud at that. "i guess i really made an impression on you," you hummed. "tell me: did any of those other girls fuck you better than me?" you asked, voice low.

shuri removed her hand from your body, shrugging. "maybe."

"shuri," you warned. "don't."

"or what?" she challenged, leaning forward, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "are you gonna punish me? because if you want to have your way with me....i wouldn't stop you."

with that, you pushed her onto the bed. she let out a yelp when her back hit the mattress. once you were hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you did what you yearned to do as soon as you walked in earlier that night: you kissed her, passionately, deeply. you bit her lip as you pulled away.

"you really want that - for me to have my way with you?"

shuri whimpered. "yes."

"you might regret saying that, usana."

shuri loved it when you spoke xhosa, you knew that. she leaned up to capture your lips, but you had other plans.

you kissed down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and shoulders down to her stomach. after you fumbled with the button of her pants, shuri lifted her hips from the bed so that you could remove them. once the pants were thrown on the floor, you kissed her core through her briefs, feeling a wet spot against your lips.

quickly, you took off her briefs, being greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you ran your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already felt her slick coating your lips. shuri lifted her legs so they rested on your shoulders. with this angle, you gathered some of her slick and sunk two fingers into her heat.

"gods, i've barely touched you and you're already about to come," you teased, feeling her clench around your fingers. "are you going to come for me?" all you got in response was whine. with your other hand, you reached up to pinch the side of her hip. "answer me, princess."

shuri propped herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you removed your mouth from her.

"yes!" she cried. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel throbbing between your thighs, hearing how frantic her voice sounded - like she needed you and only you. "please, just do something."

at her request, you moved up the bed so that the two of you were face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other was still two fingers deep in her cunt.

with your thumb, you traced over her lips. "open." shuri obeyed you instantly, and you couldn't help but clench your thighs together - you had never seen her this desperate. you spat in her mouth, heart racing as you watched her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continued fucking her with your fingers until she moaned, louder and louder as she reached her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you locked eyes with her as you brought your glistening fingers to your mouth and sucked off her juices. then, you kissed the tattoo underneath her ear, whispering: "have i ever told you that you're the sweetest thing i've ever tasted?"

when shuri smiled, you couldn't help but think how gorgeous she was, how vulnerable she was underneath you, how she was yours. unfortunately, you also couldn't help but think that there was a time when you thought she was yours and yours alone, while there were other girls with her like this.

so, you decided then that you weren't quite done with her.

"you really want me to have my way with you?" you asked once more, just to be sure.

"yes. anything."

you kissed her again, this time rougher than the last. "where's that new strap you made?"

shuri gestured to the closet. you stripped down before retrieving the strap - bigger than any either of you had used on the other before - and adjusted it around your hips. when you turned back to the bed, shuri was completely naked, nipples perked against the cold air, thighs shining from her previous orgasm.

"turn around," you instructed. "on your knees."

again, shuri complied. you knelt behind her on the bed, grasping her hips. you looked down at her cunt, already dripping, and she gasped when she felt you spit onto her hole. without further ado, you thrusted forward.

you both moaned when you started to enter her. shuri invented a strap that allowed both the wearer and the receiver to feel pleasure; hell, you could even feel her walls clench around you, how deep you were inside her. technology was a beautiful thing.

"you okay, baby?" you asked once you were halfway inside her.

"yes," she breathed. she turned her head as much as she could towards you. "keep going."

once you were fully inside her, strap nestled in her warm cunt, your thighs met her ass. you slipped out slightly, only to thrust back in, over and over, until shuri was a moaning mess beneath you. her body started to shake and she almost collapsed onto her elbows, so you reached one hand to her neck and lifted her up so that your nipples brushed against her back.

"more," she moaned, reaching an arm back to help guide your hips forward, faster.

you kissed the back of her neck, trailing your hand down from her neck to pinch one of her nipples. you moved your other hand to her clit, rubbing the nub in tight circles and gathering as much slick as you could. you then took those same fingers and shoved them into her mouth, allowing her to taste her sweetness.

you almost came right then and there, watching how she truly let you have your way with her body. "i never knew you were such a slut," you taunted. you took your fingers out of her mouth so shuri could respond, instead grasping her neck once more, applying just the slightest pressure you knew drove her crazy.

"only for you," she groaned.

after a particularly hard thrust, shuri came, bursting all over the sheets. she collapsed forward on the bed, breathing hard.

"did you just...." the wet stains on the purple silk sheets were enough evidence. shuri just squirted.

shuri laughed, breathlessly. "fuck. i've never done that before."

you took off the strap and turned her over. her skin glistened with sweat and her curls were stuck to her forehead, but shuri would never not be beautiful.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whispered. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

shuri nodded, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts were touching. both of you were so worked up, you from watching shuri fall apart twice and shuri from, well, her two previous orgasms, that it didn't take long for you to feel her gush against you, and vice versa.

strings of cum connected you as you removed your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath.

"i'm sorry," shuri finally said. she shifted her body to lay on her side, facing you. "i almost messed this up but --"

"it's fine," you said, turning your head towards her. "it was a misunderstanding."

"i just...." shuri sighs, voice trembling slightly. "i just want to assure you that i would never want to do anything to hurt you. what we have is more real that anything i ever had with any other girl. you were right, it has been like that from the start, even if i almost messed it up."

you used your thumb to wipe away a tear from shuri's cheek. "are you crying because i gave you the best orgasm of your life?"

despite being in tears, shuri laughed. "i'm crying because i love you."

"i love you too, shuri," you assured her, your finger tracing the tattoo on the side of her arm. "also we should probably take a shower before sleeping."

shuri hummed. "you and your showers." the two of you laughed, remembering this morning. "before that, i have something for you...." she got up and grabbed a paper bag on the floor, handing it to you.

one eyebrow raised, you opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of lychee soju. your expression softened. "it was lychee soju," you mused, looking between the bottle and shuri.

"see, i do remember!" shuri grinned. she slipped on her underwear and your sleep shirt before running to the kitchen to grab some mugs. shuri poured the drink into them and handed you one.

as you sipped the bittersweet liquid, you couldn't help but think: you and shuri. this was real.

#shuri #shuri smut #shuri fanfiction #shuri x reader #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x y/n #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther #shuri fluff #shuri angst #shuri fic #shuri imagine #shuri x you #Spotify #saf writes

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toomuchracket · 11 months

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all those dreams where you're my wife (birthday party!matty x reader)

(hi! a fic inspired by the ending of my most recent blurb for this universe. probably a bit shit, i won't lie, but i thought it was kinda cute. i'm sure you can guess what it entails... enjoy! <3)

it's one of those mornings when you maintain that your boyfriend could have titled his second album based on himself.

you watch matty from the doorway of the master bedroom, his grey-streaked curls splayed across the same bright white pillows his handsome face is half-smushed into. the duvet covers have bunched around his waist, giving you a perfect view of his muscular arms and un-tattooed back, decorated with little crescent moon indents courtesy of your fingernails. suddenly, he moves, and your view changes; you can now clearly see matty's face, softened by slumber, pretty lips open ever so slightly and long dark eyelashes resting almost against his cheekbone. a gentle wave of love washes over you as you watch him sleep, wondering if he's dreaming about you in the same romantic ways you dream about him (he definitely is). he looks so content that you almost don't want to wake him, but the breakfast tray in your arms is growing heavy, so you must.

setting it down gently on the table at matty's side of the bed and perching on the edge of the bed, you lift the little bunch of flowers from the tray in one hand, and softly caress matty's cheek and jaw with the other. "matty, baby, it's time to wake up, c'mon."

languidly, matty presses his face further into your hand, twisting his head to kiss it, before blinking his eyes open. once he's shuffled to sit up against the headboard and adjusted to the sunshine-brightness of the room, he smiles lovingly at you, taking in your (his) mazzy star t-shirt and the flowers you're holding; when he registers the latter, some deeper emotion seems to settle itself in matty's dark eyes, but you can't quite explain what it is. you don't dwell on it - instead, you lean down to kiss your boyfriend's forehead and lay the flowers gently on his bare chest. "bonjour, mon amour. as-tu bien dormi?"

"ok, i understood the first bit," matty replies, his voice gravelly from sleep (quite sexy, if you do say so yourself). "and bonjour to you too, mon petit chou."

"you know you just called me your little cabbage, right?"

"i was trying to call you 'sweetheart'," matty groans, trying to hide his whole face in your palm, presumably to escape mortification. "how do you say that again?"

"chouchou. two of them. you were close! try again, babe."

"nope, my seduction attempt's ruined now," comes the characteristically overdramatic reply, muffled by your hand. "i fucked up my big sexy french-speaking moment, and now you're going to run off with timothee chalamet so he can seduce you with it instead, fucksake."

you snort. "me run off with him? are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

"i'm not the one who spent a whole afternoon watching videos of him speaking french in interviews non-stop after we watched dune, am i?"

"and i'm not the one who admitted to an interviewer that they had 'interesting feelings' and had a crush on him after call me by your name, am i?"

"but you did, though, didn't you? i bet you did. he's your type, defini-"

"enough about him," you interject, moving your hand over your boyfriend's mouth to prevent hearing his analysis of your type in men, which would inevitably lead to a narcissistic tangent considering matty's, well, the blueprint for it. "do you like the flowers? i picked them for you earlier."

matty looks down at the bouquet of tulips and daisies resting on his chest, eyes softening. "they're beautiful, sweetheart, thank you. what's the occasion?"

he knows full well what the occasion taking place today is, but there's no way that you do.

"just thanking you for bringing me here. and coming to paris with me," you shrug. your head dips bashfully, and matty's heart soars in response; he loves you unconditionally all the time, he really does, but there's just something about seeing you all shy and sweet and blushy that makes his knees weaken. if he was to stand up right now, he knows his legs would simply crumple, and that certainty grows tenfold when you meet his gaze and grin. "wouldn't have gone on this trip without you - everything i wrote in that novel was either for or about you, even before i knew it. so... yeah, they're flowers of gratitude. and love, obvs."

"i love you too," matty smiles, placing the flowers to one side and pulling you into his chest in replacement. "and i'm so - god, i don't even know what to say about being the subject of your writing - honoured? yeah, honoured. this has been the best two weeks of my life, honestly, being here with you."

"i know i said it in paris," you snuggle further into matty, and he kisses your hair. "but i really, really don't want to go home."

"neither do i, sweetheart, but we need to at some point, yeah? mayhem'll be missing us."

"oh, my baby," you sigh wistfully. matty's glad your face is tucked into his chest right now, so you can't see him beaming like an idiot about how much you love his dog. not that you don't know how down bad matty is for you already, but he reckons he should probably try to keep his cool a bit, stay focused, for today of all days. "alright, we can go home. for him only."

matty presses a kiss to your temple, tracing little swirls into your arm. "exactly, babe. we do still have one more night here to focus on, too."

a fucking huge night.

"and on that note, we should probably think about starting to get ready," you peel yourself off your boyfriend - with great reluctance - and stretch, before crawling towards the bottom of the bed (matty makes no attempt to hide his ogling of your bum, mostly bare with the exception of a tiny black thong he's mentally patting himself on the back for buying you) and standing. "will you join me in the shower after you've had your coffee? want you to wash my hair, please."

"of course. will you do mine in return?"

"duh!" you blow matty a kiss. "see you in a bit, lover."

he pretends to catch the kiss and presses it to his heart, which coaxes a giggle and a wink from you before you disappear into the bathroom. holding his quickly-cooling coffee in one hand, periodically taking sips, matty reaches down under his side of the bed to rifle in his carry-on bag, categorising items by texture and bypassing them until he finds the little velvet cube he's looking for.

after downing his cappuccino and setting down the mug, matty does nothing but sit and look at this box for a moment, marvelling at how something so small can hold something significant of one of, if not the biggest commitment he and you could make to each other. but despite the gravitas of the situation, he doesn't feel nervous. here, now, listening to you sing like a virgin as you potter about the ensuite and hissing and swearing at the freezing water temperature when you turn the shower on, there is nothing but love and hope and certainty in his mind; matty wants to marry you, simple as that, and tonight is the perfect night to ask you to do so.

this certainty doesn't diminish at all, either - if anything, matty's decision to propose is only affirmed throughout the day, through everything you do that reminds him how much he loves you. like the way you wordlessly and gently wash his hair for him; your habit of pre-empting what he needs at any given moment simply because you know him so well; the myriad of kisses and compliments and hugs and soft touches you gift him with. the way it takes you twenty minutes to tell a joke because the thought of it made you laugh too hard to talk; how you look at and listen to him intently when he speaks; your incredible insight and way with words turning the most mundane things into the most beautiful, in matty's eyes. speaking of beauty: the way you look right now, sitting opposite him in your new dress; the smile you gave him when he told you in complete earnestness that "you are the most gorgeous person in the known universe. and the unknown, too"; the way your eyes lit up earlier when you recognised the name of the vineyard you're currently sat in, the same name as on the bottles of the wine that you and matty bonded over all those years ago, the same wine that led to you confessing your feelings for each other, and the same wine that you've shared together to celebrate every occasion since then.

the ring has been burning a hole in the front pocket of matty's trousers for hours, desperate to be presented to you and slid onto your recently-manicured (he checked when your nail appointment was before he planned the holiday and proposal, obviously) finger. matty did almost get down on one knee while you were touring the grounds a few hours ago, walking between the rows of grapes, and you made him laugh by unexpectedly calling an obnoxious american man in the same group a "fucking wankstain" under your breath; as soon as he began to shuffle his foot back in kneeling preparation, though, he stopped himself. too eager, healy, she deserves more romance than this.

he could do it right now, and it would work. it's certainly romantic enough - the two of you sat at an outdoor table, illuminated only by moonlight and candlelight respectively, soundtracked by quiet, soft classical piano music, a vintage edition of the wine you love so much being shared between you. it would work, yeah, but it's still not totally right. matty's undeterred, though; he's not sure what's convincing him of this, other than the vague sense of anticipation crackling in the night air, but he knows the perfect moment is nearby. and neither of you are in a rush - the wine is only half-drunk, and another bottle will make its way to the table once that one is gone.

so he'll wait. impatiently, yeah, but he'll do it. the perfect moment will come along, and matty will ask you to be his wife.

you, his wife. perfect, talented, lovely you, currently interrupting his "waiting" reverie by tapping a platform sandaled-foot against his leg and smiling sweetly. "what's going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?"

"just thinking about you. well, us." not a lie.

you smile shyly, taking a sip of your wine before leaning back in the chair and resting your glass lightly against your chest. reflected candlelight warms your slightly sleepy eyes, locked intently on matty's own. "what about us are you thinking about?"

"everything. us in the future, us now, us in the past." matty pauses for dramatic effect, knowing exactly how you'll react to his next words. "how good an idea i had when i decided to kiss you at that birthday party."

your reaction is just as matty expected - you raise your eyebrows coolly, pointing your index finger at him in warning. "christ, not this again. you know full well it was me who instigated that."

matty laughs. "nope, as i recall, it was all me; you did nothing that night except try to give yourself a nicotine addiction." his face softens before he speaks again, voice quietening to match. "and as much as i think you're insane for constantly trying to take up smoking, i am so glad you walked outside to bother me for a cig that night. i mean, look at where it led us."

putting your wine down, you gaze at matty so lovingly he thinks he might swoon - this is not helped by your next move, leaning across the table to press your lips to his in a gentle but lingering kiss. after you break apart and matty wrestles back control of his brain from you, he takes both of your hands in his own, rubbing his calloused thumbs across your knuckles and the permanent ink stains on the side of your index finger. "you warm enough, darlin'? hands feel a bit cold."

"a little bit, but the wine's helping," you shrug. "i'll be alright, babe."

the goosebumps spreading up your bare arms in the cool breeze suggest otherwise to matty - he quickly rids himself of his suit jacket, standing to settle it on your shoulders. "there we go."

"matty, i'm al-"

"don't be a martyr, baby, please," matty smiles softly at you as he returns to his seat. he gestures to his dress shirt-clad chest. "see? long sleeves. you need the jacket more than i do."

you sigh, then look sheepish. "yeah, that is better, thank you. i'm also gonna... just to try and warm my neck a bit."

sliding an arm out from under his jacket, matty watches as you take the tortoiseshell claw clip from your hair, shaking the wavy tresses out and leaving them to settle around your beautiful face. then, you take a lazy sip of your wine, before setting the glass down and beaming at him, the picture of comfort and contentment. and something in matty's brain just clicks.

of course. of course it would be you who gave matty the perspective he needed - you do it every day, after all. that simple action of taking your hairclip out, one you must do constantly without thinking too much, if anything, about, and the obvious relaxation that followed... that was the key. the perfect moment has been unlocked.

now is the time for matty to ask you to marry him.

it's as if the crackling anticipation in the air has culminated in a lightning strike, like in back to the future - the right energy is coursing through the atmosphere, and matty knows he has to pull a marty mcfly and seize this moment to change the course of his life for the better, before it slips away.

so, in a quick movement sequence punctuated by awestruck gasps from you, matty practically jumps out of his chair and moves to stand beside yours, pulling the ring box out of his pocket and kneeling; only once he's slowly lifted the lid - ironically at about the same speed the DeLorean doors open - does matty look up at you, tears beginning to pool along his lower lashline already. "so, i think you'll have an idea of what i'm doing down here-"

you giggle, sniffling a bit yourself, and nod.

"-but i have a whole speech prepared, and i'd like you to hear it. ok?" another nod from you, which makes matty smile. "right. here goes - fuck, you're so cute."

not how matty had envisioned his proposal to you beginning, but the way you look right now - eyes wet but sparkling, starlight on sea, cheeks lifting in an elated smile despite the way you've pressed your lips together to keep from exclaiming - is too adorable to go unaddressed.

"ok," matty laughs, then shakes his head and inhales deeply. "i know i'm prone to being dramatic, and exaggerating, but when i say that the seven years i've known you have been the best seven years of my life, i'm doing neither. it's the truth, darlin' - especially these last two years, where i've had the privilege to officially love you and be yours, although i've unofficially been doing those things a lot longer. how could i help that, though? you're so beautiful it breaks my heart, but so kind that it heals immediately, and you're unflinchingly loyal to the people you care about, even when they don't make it easy for you." he pauses, briefly, to bite back the sob building in the back of his throat. "you saw me at my absolute worst and you still stuck around. which i am so grateful for, because i really do think you bring out the best in me. and also in the world in general; i am so envious of the way you can turn the most quotidian things into the most stunning, through your perspective and your unparalleled talent with words. to be given insight into your thoughts every day is the second greatest gift in my life, only beaten by the mind-boggling fact that you, for whatever reason, love me. if you'll allow me to be a little bit self-indulgent, i would love to keep both receiving those gifts and being granted the privilege to love you and be yours for the rest of our lives, officially, and also to spend that same amount of time doing whatever i can to make you happy. i love you, sweetheart, so much. will you marry me?"

you're nodding furiously and beginning an ecstatically teary monologue before he's even finished the question. "yes, yes, an infinite number of times, yes. i love you. i can't wait to be your wife. wife! jesus christ. i'm gonna marry you. oh my god. this is insane. i love you so much. thank you."

after your monologue ends, matty stands and gently takes your left hand, bringing it to his lips before sliding the delicate ring onto its designated finger. you both take a moment to admire it, gemstone sparkling almost as much as your eyes in the romantic lighting, before your eyes lock. matty beams at you. "s'perfect."

"it really is," you say, wiggling your hand in different directions before bringing it up to rest on your fiance's (!!!) face. "and so was that speech. you're incredible, healy. i can't wait to share that last name, and forever, with you."

with that, you pull matty's lips onto yours. the kiss is a little bit damp and salty, because of your shared tears, but it's the best kiss you two have ever had. the red wine lingering on your lips makes it seem like the first all over again, to matty. with a jolt, he realises that it kind of is - your first kiss as a couple betrothed.

as the kiss deepens, you pull matty impossibly closer to you, arching your back against the table - at the sound of a loud thud against it, though, you break apart to see your wine glass on its side, the burgundy contents spreading out over the table. you swear, rifling through your handbag for tissues to clean up the spillage; your fiance, in contrast, continues to hold your waist as he laughs at your clumsiness. "maybe we shouldn't have red wine at our wedding. seems like a dangerous game, what with you in white and all, yeah?"

you faux-glare at matty, before giggling and abandoning the spillage. "yeah," you smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "we should probably just stick to champagne."

"well, there's our next holiday destination sorted. champagne region. you up for that?"

"honestly," you begin, kissing all over matty's stubbly face before ending with a peck on his lips. "i'd go anywhere with you, my husband-to-be. i love you."

"i love you too, my future wife."

#into the birthday partyverse #mads does writing #mads muses #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff

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byler-4-life · 2 years

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I apologize in advance for this monstrosity of a post. But I have to get a point across here. Like...either Byler is endgame and is going to happen, or Will Byers is going to go down as one of the most tragic TV Show characters of all time.

Sounds a little like hyperbole, no? Well, let's just recap. This starts when Will is 12. Just 12 years old. This adorable, sweet, little, innocent bean here. Just keep in mind these pictures for future reference:

He's kidnapped by an interdimensional monster and forced into a dark, cold, lonely place all by himself. He's stuck in another dimension for a whole week, trying desperately to get out, wondering if anyone is going to save him, all while constantly fearing for his life. Alas, the demogorgon did get to him:

And, even after he was rescued, he was still puking up slugs:

All this is from S1. Enough trauma to last several lifetimes. But wait, there's more.

Apparently Will hadn't suffered enough, so they had the Mindflayer set its sights on him. And well, we all know S2 didn't turn out the best for this now 13 year old boy.

And if the mental pain and anguish and loss of innocence of having your body forcefully entered against your will isn't enough, they decided to heap on some intense physical suffering as well:

And to end the series, you have to have the monster literally burned out of you by your own mother while you're tied down to a bed.

Surely our boy has had enough right? Wrong. On to Season 3. 14 year old Will is mostly sidelined this Season, but he's present enough to get ignored by his friends and put down by his best friend for his "childish" interests, a fact that hurts Will so bad he breaks down and calls himself stupid before resorting to demolishing his childhood fortress. The same haven of safety that helped to save his life in the Upside Down. He's then forced to pack up and move from the only home he's ever known, severing all his friendship ties, such as they were.

Well at least they're gonna fix stuff in Season 4. So here we go, and...what? Excuse me....hmmm...okay. So I've just gotten word they in fact did NOT fix things in Season 4. We have Will, now 15 (or maybe actually still 14 since the Duffers apparently FORGOT HIS BIRTHDAY) so happy to see Mike at the airport for the first time since leaving town, get his hug physically rejected (when Mike has no problem hugging anyone else this series). He's then forced to third wheel and watch his best friend/love of his life have fun with his step-sister. He then LIES TO MIKE (something we have seasons of evidence that Will hates to do) in order to project his own feelings for Mike onto El because that's what he thinks Mike needs to hear. And he's then forced to help Mike "confess" his "love" for El as he stands there and hears Mike say that his life didn't really begin until the day Will disappeared?

Guys, even if you don't ship Byler, you have to admit....this is a pretty fucked up life in the span of 3-4 years. My point in posting all of this (and actually depressing the hell out of myself as I looked for all the screenshots) is if they really leave him like this, and Season 5 doesn't turn things around for Will...or maybe even somehow gets worse and they either kill him off, or force him to stand there and fake a smile while Mike and El live happily ever after....well then fuck this show.

They introduced us to this sweet innocent kid, made us all fall in love with his character, then treated him like their personal punching bag for four seasons. If they aren't planning on giving him a happy ending, that's just downright sadistic. After everything Will has gone through, they're going to make him a gay kid in the 80s living in smalltown Indiana in middle America, with an unrequited love for his childhood best friend? A fact that makes him feel "different" and like he's a "mistake"? Overkill for the sake of overkill. Trauma p*rn. And that's just the suffering they've shown us onscreen. Just think of how many nights laying in bed alone Will has had these thoughts about himself. Or desperately wishing that Mike felt the same way, even though he "knows" it's hopeless. Truly tragic.

Yes, other beloved characters in this show have been traumatized too, yes. But they've also all had sustained happy moments that the show has shown us on screen (for characters that were around for more than one season). Every time Will seemingly gets an ounce of happiness it's violently snatched away.

I refuse to believe that the show doesn't want to give Will a happy ending. There has to be a reason for his suffering. And yes, I think Byler is the only satisfactory happy ending. And that's not my choice, that was the choice of the showrunners. They made being in love with Mike his whole character in S4. Gay pining at its finest. Trying to intro a new love interest at the last minute isn't going to cut it. I'm not going full delusional like before. But I do believe that S5 Byler has a good chance of happening. Otherwise...it kind of taints the whole experience.

#byler #long post #will byers #coping by hoping

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lovelytsunoda · 2 years

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would it be a sin? // lando norris

summary: lando tries (and fails in the sweetest funniest of ways) to make his and y/n’s first night in their new house together a memorable experience

pairing: lando norris x female reader

warnings: sweet and dorky and giggly smut, but still smut

author's note: this is a love letter to all my girlies who are not kinky in the slightest. just because you don't like it too rough, or don't have any interest in anything kinky doesn't mean that you can't have a fulfilling sex life. this ones for you <3

never in her life did y/n y/l/n dream that she would be so lucky.

leaves were falling down outside, orange and yellow and red dotting the interlock driveway and crunching under the wheels of lando's mclaren as he pulled up the front drive. the movers had been there earlier in the day, a few suitcases stowed away in the back of the luxury supercar.

she stepped out of the car, looking up at the house in wonder as she pulled the massive stuffed ikea bear out of the trunk.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

lando grinned, dangling the house keys in front of him. “better believe it, baby! you are out of your moms house and living with the love of your life, aka me.”

y/n giggled, pecking lando on the lips, the stuffed bear wedged between their bodies.

“I still can’t believe that you brought that bear. it gives me nightmares, baby.”

“uh, lan, it’s not a ‘bear’, it’s a djungelskog.” she giggled, shaking the bear in landos face. “come on, I’ve had this thing since I was a baby, I brought him with me to college. sometimes I snuggle him in my sleep while you’re gone.”

“that’s cute, darling, but I’m here now.” lando said gently, taking the djungelskog bear from y/n and darting up the driveway, where he opened the front door and put the bear in the living room before running down the driveway and sweeping y/n into his arms with a smile and a laugh.

"lando norris, put me down!" y/n laughed as lando carried her over the threshold and into the living room, which was empty save for the stacks upon stacks of boxes.

"you think that im not going to carry my girlfriend over the threshold of our new house?"

"well, yeah, but you're also likely to drop me!"

lando laughed before gently setting y/n down on the soles of her tennis shoes, his arms still around her as he pressed his lips to hers. "we did it, love. this place is ours now."

lando wouldn't say it out loud, but the cozy bunglow ranch house was where he could see the rest of his life unfolding: carrying y/n through the doorway in her voluminous white wedding dress, the smell of fresh bread as she baked in the kitchen, the smell travelling down the hall to his simulator room. two little kids running around the halls, one boy and one girl, a mini carbon copy of both of them. maybe a dog or two? or a cat? teaching his kids how to use the mclaren simulator, their little hands overtop of his as he helped them reach the steering wheel. birthday parties with helium balloons and confetti, little carboard party hats on everybody's heads.

from the first real estate showing, lando norris had seen the rest of his life unfold in that house.

"come on, let me show you the master bedroom."

"lando, i saw the pictures, remember?"

because of their complicated schedules, and the demand for that particular home, lando had been the only one able to go with the estate agent on the one day that was available, so y/n hadn't seen the interior in person yet.

"yes, but it's even better in person!"

giggling at lando's excitement, y/n took his hand and followed him down the long hallway to the master bedroom. the couple were so caught up in the moment that they hadn't even taken off their shoes, tracking dirt throughout the length of the hallway.

"lando, this is incredible! our bed isn't even going to take up half of this place!"

the mclaren driver shrugged, kicking the mattress towards the middle of the cavernous, sunny room. "then we just get a bigger one? it's not that big a deal, love."

"it is when i still have student loans to pay off. i feel bad, i didn't help you pay for any of this." y/n insisted.

"let me spoil you." lando countered, walking over to the cardboard box that held y/n's treasured vitrola record player, plugging it into the wall before he started looking for the records. "hey, do you know where the box with the vinyl is?"

"how should i know, lando? the movers did it all, didn't they?" y/n shook her head with a small grin as she went over to a tupperware container marked 'linens'. "we may not have a bedframe or a soundtrack, but at least now we have sheets and a duvet because god, i'm way too tired today to even think about putting the ikea furniture together."

with the new house had come a complete overhaul of the furniture lando owned. well, everything that max fewtrell was letting him take. being a university student and still living with her mother, y/n didn't have a lot, but she did bring a few other important things, like hand knitted blankets from her grandmother and numerous corningware dishes and china plates from her mother's collection.

"found them!" lando cried in achievement, throwing on an old elvis record that he bought last time he was in austin for a grand prix simply because he wanted the experience of dancing to the vinyl recording of can't help falling in love with you with y/n in the middle of the living room in his apartment at one in the morning because he thought it would be romantic.

"so, i take it you're not helping me?" y/ raised an eybrow as she started putting pillows in cases. "last i checked, this was a two person job, and if you want to get laid tonight, you'd better help, because i refuse to fuck you on the floor."

lando's head shot up, and he lunged for the corner of the flannel sheets.

"oh, so that gets you on your feet?" y/n giggled as the couple put the fitted sheet on the full sized mattress.

as soon as y/n deemed lando's work acceptable by lying in the middle of the bed, lando crawled on top of her, caging her body against the mattress and kissing her deeply, smiles on both of their faces.

"i know i complained a lot, but i'm really glad that you talked me into moving in with you." y/n said through a smile, running her fingers through lando's hair.

"i'm glad that max isn't going to be a cockblock any more." lando laughed out, causing y/n to giggle underneath him.

"or my mom."

"jesus christ, anything but that. your mom still glares at me any time we go up to your room, you know that?"

"she means well, lando." y/n giggles, kissing him again. "she doesn't want grandkids yet. not because she thinks we're too young, but mostly because she thinks she's not old enough to be called grandma."

"your mother is evil." lando chuckled before he kisses her again, his soft lips cushioning her bottom lip as the kiss deepens, her body getting pushed further into the mattress, chilled hands sliding up her sweater.

"god, lando!" she hisses from the impact, trying to push his hands away. "you're freezing!"

the brit shrugged "to be quite fair, it is only like, fifteen degrees outside. is now a good time for me to figure out how the fireplace works? it could be romantic." he wiggled his eyebrows at the end, eliciting raucous laughter from his lover, who was still underneath him.

"go on then, let me move the mattress closer so we can actually feel the heat."

lando messed around with the ornate stone fireplace, turning dials and dropping firewood before realizing that he didn't have a lighter anywhere, and therefore would struggle with actually igniting the kindling.

the fireplace had been one of the factors that drove y/n's final decision on the ranch house, the grey stone creating a cottage-like feel, giving a cozy atmosphere and tying the whole room together. she was not a fan of the cinnamon-colored paint on the wall, but lando promised that the would get the twitch quartet to help him repaint it in whatever color she wanted.

y/n laughed to herself as she brought the mattress closer, dropping down two pillows, a knit blanket and the duvet.

"do you need some help, lando?"

lando shook his head, looking through a shoebox of things that were emptied out of his kitchen drawer. "just get comfortable. i need to open a box and find some newspaper to light on fire."

"that is the worst idea i think i've ever heard you speak out loud."

"it's kindling!"

"it's a safety hazard."

shaking her head, y/ slipped out of her woolen sweater, adidas and jeans before she slipped under the covers, sliding off her white lace bra and throwing it in lando's direction to try and get his attention.

she missed, the bra sliding harmlessly across the floor as lando ignited the fireplace, the cozy scent of burning firewood filling the air. but the driver kept messing with the fire, using the cast iron poker to push around the logs, hoping that the fire would grow

rolling her eyes impatiently, y/n slipped off her lacy panties underneath the covers before balling them into her hand and throwing them.

this time, she hit the mark, the balled-up sunflower-colored fabric hitting lando in the back of the head. he finally turned around, picking up the undergarment in his hands and staring in confusion before turning to look at the mattress.

"oh, love. you'll be the death of me at this rate."

y/n had a big smile on her face as she propped herself up on an elbow, holding the duvet cover over her cleavage as she teasingly smiled at lando.

with a beaming grin, lando pulled his sweater over his head and kicked off his running shoes, making his way over to the bed.

"babe, look out-"

she had barely finished issuing the warning before lando tripping over y/n's tennis shoes and trying to grab onto one of the stacked boxes to try and regain his balance, a massive cardboard box containing all of lando's mclaren gear falling over and spilling papaya colored shirts and baseball caps onto the hardwood floor.

"lan, sweetie, are you okay?" y/n said through laughter

"i'm fine." lando choked out, still giggling himself as he slipped out of his jeans and joined y/n under the covers next to the fire.

the fire warmed their exposed skin as lando and y/n embraced, his hungry lips quickly taking control, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as he grinded into her aching core, swallowing her sweet, soft moan in his fiery kiss.

the driver continued to trail soothing, gentle kisses across y/n's jaw, his fingers moving to lace with hers as he held her hand next to her head, nipping at the sweet spot on her neck as she bucked her hips into his.

"patience, pretty girl." lando hummed, moving his feather light kisses down her neck before gently taking one of y/n's hard nipples into his mouth.

y/n dropped his hand, burying her finger's in lando's curls as she urged him forward, begging the brit to give her more as gentle whines spilled from her lips.

he trailed his kisses further and further down her body, each kiss punctuated by a different declaration of love: "i love you", "you're the most beautiful girl i've ever met", "i cant imagine another day without you by my side."

little praises that brought a content smile to her face as lando began to kiss and caress her inner thighs, inching closer and clsoer to where she needed him the most.

y/n wasn’t a kinky person by any means. she’d much rather be made love to by candlelight than fucked from behind and spanked. but the one thing lando knew got her off more than anything was being on the receiving end of body worship. after spending so many years insecure and worried that nobody would ever find her pretty or sexy or attractive, listening to lando tell her how stunning she was in such a genuine tone, or showing her how gorgeous she was with his mouth and his hands was the perfect way to get her closer to an orgasm.

her biggest concern in the beginning was that lando would tire of vanilla sex and break up with her to go find somebody new, somebody more willing to take risks in the bedroom. someone who liked it a little rougher.

acutely aware of this fact, lando went out of his way to find ways to spice it up without getting kinky. truth be told, he had never read more cosmopolitan articles in his life, but he was thankful to the ever growing wisdom of the sex life magazine for being the brains behind some of his favourite sexual memories with y/n. the time they played strip monopoly (lando lost, but he wasn't complaining) was his favourite, but he would deny the game even existed if one of his buddies asked him about it. no, that was a memory for him an y/n only.

together they'd experimented with different music to set the mood, different lingerie and lingerie fabrics to find out which ones felt the best, different massage oils (no need to elaborate here), the one time that he wore his race suit and fireproofs (and my god, did they both think that was an incredible night).

"oh my god, lando, stop being such a tease." y/n breathed. "i need you so badly right now."

"tell me what you want, my gorgeous gorgeous girl." lando hummed, breathing on her most sensitive area

y/n's breath hitched, one hand still on the back of lando's head, the other clutching the sheets that were wrapped around her upper body. "i want your tongue. i want you to eat me out."

lando wasted no time, slipping his tongue in between her sopping wet folds, swirling and licking in the way that only he knew how. y/n clenched her thighs together, squeezing around lando's head, but cautious of the pressure she was putting on the driver.

"wrap those gorgeous thighs around me, love. if i die, i die and i get an awesome story to tell in heaven."

y/n laughed, a beautiful and delicate sound that sent even more blood rushing to lando's cock, if that was even possible.

sex with lando never failed to make y/n giggle. not because it was humorous or laughable, but because lando made her feel so comfortable in her own skin, made her feel like she could laugh at any given moment because he knew just the right thing to do. lando knew that sex and laughter were not mutually exclusive and made it his mission to make her laugh at least once every time they fucked.

with each movement of his tongue, y/n clenched her thighs tighter around lando's head, moans getting louder as she began to rut her hips up and into his face.

"oh lando, i-i think i'm gonna...oh god."

she almost whimpered as lando pulled away, still covered completely by the duvet. she found herself giggling at the young man as he floundered underneath the blankets to try and get back out again, his hair ruffled and messy.

still laughing, she pulled him close, pressing her lips to his, sliding her free hand down the front of his boxers to rub his erection.

"see what you do to me, love?" lando whispered quietly, moaning breathily down her ear as she slides her hand up and down his cock.

"take me, lando." she practically moans, kissing and nibbling up the driver's neck and pressing herself closer, desperate for more skin-on-skin contact. "please." her voice took on more of a whine this time, and lando couldn't resist.

he gently pushed her back against the mattress, awkwardly shuffling out of his underwear before ensuring that they were both wrapped up in the sheets and duvet, still feeling the warmth from the fireplace before he gently and smoothly pushed into her, lacing his fingers with hers on both hands, pinning them above her head before he began to thrust in and out. he kept the pace even, somewhere between slow and quick, y/n's head tilted back in pleasure.

"oh, lando...fuck, you feel incredible inside me."

"i love making love to you, darling." lando breathed before kissing her, letting go of one of y/n's hands to grip her waist as he started thrusting quicker. "i love hearing you moan my name, feeling your skin against mine."

she used her free hand to grip lando's hair, holding his head close as the driver started kissing the breast that he hadn't paid attention earlier.

that was another incredible thing about lando norris: there wasn't a single part of her body that he left unloved when they had sex.

"did i mention how much i adore your boobs?" he said moments later, a certain giddiness in his tone and a grin on his face that y/n found it impossible not to match, even while lando was almost balls-deep inside of her, breaking out in a grin right before a particularly deep thrust had her letting out a moan that made her entire body shake.

"once or twice." she said dreamily, pulling lando back in for a kiss, hiking her leg further up to give lando better access to a deeper angle.

"oh, just like that, love." lando moaned, quickening his pace once again. "oh, i doubt that i'm going to last much longer."

“I don’t think I will either.” she remarked casually, feeling the familiar knot in her stomach as she kissed lando hungrily, a kiss that was all tongue and teeth.

landos breath hitched as he felt y/ns walls begun to close around him, his thrusts faltering as his eyes rolled back in his head.

“come for me darling.” he encouraged, nipping at her neck. “I’ve got you, love. let go for me.”

she reached for landos hand, squeezing down hard as her entire body shook from her orgasm, face buried in landos neck to muffle her cries of pleasure. Lando reached his own peak shortly after, the couple lying skin-to-skin underneath the covers, her head on his chest.

“I love you, you big dork.” y/n said with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on landos jaw.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” the driver grinned, shifting his position on the bed. “are you warm enough, love?” he worried, pulling the duvet cover up and over her shoulders.

“I’m fine, baby.” she chuckled, tracing shapes on his skin. “the house is beautiful.”

“isn’t it? if we put down a rug and a few chairs, maybe a coffee table in front of the fire, it makes the perfect place to play another round of strip monopoly.”

y/n laughed. “again? are you sure your ego could handle losing again?”

“love, trust me. it was not ‘losing’ when the night ended with me inside of you anyways.”

“I can’t wait to start making memories in this house with you.” she smiled, shifting her position so that she was looking down at lando. “just you and me, maybe a tabby cat.” she paused. “a baby…one day?”

lando smiled, kissing her softly. “one day, my love. one day. I’d love to start a family with you. once the time is right.”

#the cozy collection 2022 #lando norris #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste #f1 smut #Spotify

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foxofsunholt · 2 months

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Valentine's day fluffy facts about ROs? Pretty please? 🥺

Happy Valentine's! ....a little late. I'm not sure what constitutes a fluffy fact but I tried to think of some lighter things about the characters that I haven't shared already <3 So here's one general detail + one specific way that they care for the rest of the team.

Adelaide — Has a surprising love for teasing people (maybe less surprisingly when you consider that Camille is her best friend) / Is constantly checking in with people, assessing their feelings regarding outcomes and situations. She takes the time to ask people what they're thinking and does take opinions seriously. She's the one that keeps track of birthdays and plans parties and etc. Mars — Sings/hums to himself in quiet moments / Though a talented cook and baker in his own right, Mars recognizes that Sidney finds a lot of fulfillment in being able to cook and so he takes a secondary role in the kitchen, happily assisting Sid. Mars also prefers more elaborate, labor extensive meals and so will bust out a very lovingly made baked good for special occasions. And yes, of course, there's always fresh bread with Mars around. Camille — Calls Mars "Marzipan" / Every night, she goes through the effort of setting coffee (& hot water for tea) to brew automatically in the morning, making sure it's there for the first person who wakes up (which is usually Mars); she claims this is for herself but she doesn't drink coffee nor does she need that much hot water. + SUPER FUN EXTRA DETAIL: Shares a sweet tooth with Adelaide, they used to sneak extra sweet rolls together. Though Adelaide has largely grown out of needing to have sugar with everything, Camille most certainly has not. She also extra spices her dishes. Sid — The dedicated cook, Sid makes sure no one goes hungry. He takes the labor of cooking a fresh meal everyday, specializing in working in big portions. Sidney tries to slowly work out of you what your favorite type of food is, depending on how much time you spend with him, and he will cook it for you! Faith — Has an individual nickname for everyone / Makes sure everyone takes a moment to relax; Faith can be seen in strange pairings, giving everyone a moment to unwind with her. Yoon — The first person who notices your MC's feelings towards their chosen romance (unless you're romancing him, in which case, HAHAHAAHA) / Yoon always takes the second last shift of the watch (the one that involves disrupting sleep), recognizing that it is the least favorable one, though he claims he needs the extra time to "pretty up".

#asks #to me what's fluffy is the specific ways that they contribute #also can you tell im hungry sdkjafhasdkj

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