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lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— promise ring ⟢

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

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

★ WORD COUNT; 21k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eccentric?” you supply.

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…A delivery? For you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is going to be difficult.

“That’s good news!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The weight of their stares suddenly falls on your form.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

“I think you should accept his proposal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still…

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

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

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

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

You didn’t either.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You nervous?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Then why do you look so…”

“So?”

“I don’t know…that.”

“You have to be specific, Chan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy…

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

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

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

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

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

“Follow me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One for you and one for Chan.

“It’s a promise.”

“Miss, you’ve got a letter again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean your father?”

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

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

Right. Sakura doesn’t know about…

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

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

Well, she’s not exactly wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prince Joshua is easy to love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“You don’t have to be so uptight.”

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Chan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s my girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You furrow your brows at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All that swells in your chest is guilt.

“They want us to what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What face?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What time do we leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It never comes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That casual display even catches you off guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has Chan always been this handsome?

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

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

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

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

“He is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, you tell the queen none of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face twists with offense. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Make sure each one counts.”

You don’t really receive letters from Chan anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I…ask you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

No… This is something much closer to acceptance.

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

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

But you’re not Joshua’s wife.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

An alliance…?

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

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

You hope he’ll be happier there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even so...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your best friend.

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

You don’t think twice. You just run.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you do neither of these things.

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

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

Those he promised to take care of.

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

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

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

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

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

What if you risked everything for nothing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Duly noted.”

Then his mouth is back on yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod meekly. Chan laughs.

“I wanna try something. Hold on.”

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

He wants you to sit on his lap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I’m ready.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something more carnal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still weird?” he laughs.

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

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

Gentle. He needs to be gentle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll always be with you.”

Gods above. He doesn’t deserve you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You promise?”

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

“I promise.”

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

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

Shit. You sound so shy, so innocent.

How could he not give you what you want?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“We’ll be alright.”

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

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

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

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xcherricutie · 3 months

Text

🏵️ independent together 🏵️

[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]

[Word Count - 5.5k]

[Tags: Fluff, bit of angst sprinkled in, bit of Adam x Reader sprinkled in too, songfic, two songs this time!!]

[Notes: This is the last part, I don't wanna milk it lol. I put two songs in this part, mostly because I really wanted to give Adam a song. Also, yes, this part is, like, triple the size of the others, sorry to those who don't like long one shots. I got way more love for these than I thought I would, so thank you to everyone, it was so much fun. I literally was getting at least a hundred notifications a day lol, thanks again for all the love]

[Additional note: take a shot every time you read "independent together". I love the song, but HOLY SHIT are the lyrics repetitive, it was so hard to write in a way that flowed easily]

“Hey, bitch, you alright in there?”

You ignored the voice on the other side of the door. You didn’t dare crawl out of the safe space that was your blankets. The thought that he might be standing on the other side made your gut twist in fear, even if you knew that wasn’t the case. You didn’t dare risk it, even if you knew there was no way Adam and Lucifer would be standing side by side outside your room.

Adam grumbled in annoyance at the lack of a response. Charlie had begged him to come check on you after you disappeared into your room days ago. You refused to open the door for anyone, not even Charlie, and the only person she thought could convince you to open up was Adam. He didn’t see the point in bothering, saying that they should just leave you be to mope, but Charlie insisted. So, here he was, against his will, checking on you.

As the silence drawled on, Adam rolled his eyes, grabbing your door handle and giving it a twist. It was locked, but locked doors meant little in Hell, applying just a tad bit more strength to twist it open. The door gave in, opening to reveal your bedroom.

You heard the door creaking open, shooting up out of your blankets. Glaring at your intruder, you're curled into the blankets, completely wrapped up in the only thing keeping you safe from Adam. Even though you knew he was completely harmless, you still didn’t feel comfortable being in the presence of anybody at all, not right now. Not after what you’d witnessed in Lucifer’s room.

“So, the fuck is up?” Adam asked as he threw himself down onto your bed, the bed creaking loudly from the sudden addition. He laid on his side, leaning his cheek on the palm of his hand, his masked eyes looking over at you curiously. He couldn’t deny that he too wondered what had suddenly got into you. You were fine the night they drank together. “You’ve been holed up in here for days, the bitch is starting to get worried.”

By “bitch”, you knew he meant Charlie. You knew she was worried; she had been coming up to check on you the last four days you had been isolated in your room. You would give her a short reply, saying you just weren’t feeling well, but you’d never open the door for her. Well, she’d certainly be able to come in now that Adam had broken the lock on your door. You’d have to ask Alastor to fix it, which you were not excited about.

“I’m fine,” You rolled your eyes in annoyance, turning to lay on your side and hide your face from Adam’s view. “I told Charlie I just wasn’t feeling well. Tell her not to worry, I’ll get over it soon.”

“Tell her yourself, bitch, get out of bed,” Adam said, laying on his back as he casually examined his nails, which had now turned into claws since his second death. You growled in annoyance, kicking him in the side, earning a pained cry from him. “What the fuck is your problem!? Being a little fuckin’ rude, aren’t ya? Even after I came up here to check on your ungrateful ass!”

“Maybe don’t break into people’s rooms, Adam!” You shouted, sitting up and glaring down at him. Adam huffed, crossing his arms as he sat up. He practically eclipsed you in size, especially as his wings ruffled in annoyance.

“What’s your deal? You were fine the other night, are you just pissy with me? Did I do something to piss you off?” He asked. You looked at him in surprise, eyes wide.

You didn’t think about it until now, but that’s probably how it appeared to Adam and the others. You had spent another long night of drinking with Adam, only to suddenly close off the entire world, including Adam, with no explanation. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shook your head. “No, it wasn’t you, you didn’t do anything. It was...”

You paused, unsure if it was the right idea to tell Adam of all people what had happened. When Adam leaned in curiously, a brow raised, you decided it was too late to back out of telling him now. “It was Lucifer. He was... I found him singing, about me, about us...”

Adam looked down at you, confusion written across his face. “Singing about you? That’s fucking weird. He sounds totally into you, fucking gross.”

You winced at his harsh words, though you didn’t disagree. Lucifer was missing you; he had sung all about how much he missed you, how much it hurt him to see you again. You found it somewhat pathetic that he was hurting, when he was the one who abandoned you. It was his fault he was missing you.

Your anger revitalized, you clenched your fists as you huffed. “I know. It’s honestly pathetic; he’s the one who cheated! He shouldn’t be surprised I’m not going back to him.”

“Woah, wait, what?” Adam grabbed your shoulders, looking down at you in pure shock. It took you a minute to process why he was so surprised, when it occurred to you that Adam didn’t know. It had completely slipped your mind that you hadn’t told anyone the actual connection you had with Lucifer. As far as everyone else knew, you two just used to be close friends. Nobody knew you were actually married.

Your throat dried at the realization, tripping over words as you tried to come up with an explanation. Adam immediately saw through your lies, gripping your shoulders tighter, demanding the truth. You chuckled nervously, leaning away from him, although unable to escape his grip.

“We, ah... Lucifer and I were actually married before everything happened. He cheated on me and left me for Lilith...” You spoke, hoping and praying to anyone that would listen that this didn’t get back to Charlie. You should have known Adam better though. He was going to make this a huge deal.

“No fucking way,” Adam released you, placing a hand on his head as he came to terms with the bombshell information. “No fucking way. This is perfect.”

You raised a brow in confusion, wanting to question him, but you had no time to voice your thoughts as you were ripped out of your bed. You yelped in surprise as Adam squeezed your wrists, bending over to have his face directly in front of yours.

“Let’s make him super fucking jealous,” Adam grinned from ear to ear, his mask visibly glitching with excitement. He could finally get back at Lucifer, take his revenge for stealing both of his wives. “Come on, it’s fucking genius. Little man stole both our lives from each other! He stole my wives, and cheated on you with them! So, wouldn’t it just be so perfect that we just happen to get a little too close, fuck around, and make him super jealous? It’d be the perfect revenge, and hey, you’ll get to dick around a little too with the Dickmaster.”

You cringed at the title he chose for himself, pulling back from him, but not strong enough to escape his grip. “I don’t know, Adam. I’m not into you like that. And I don’t want to catch Lucifer’s attention any more than I already have.”

“Come on, babe, everyone’s into me like that,” Adam scoffed, pulling you to him by the waist. “Let’s just give it a try! He likes to sing about you, huh? I wonder how much he’d like it if I sung about you.”

“W-Wait, Adam—”

Before you could resist any harder, Adam whisked you away, throwing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes as he flew back to the main hall, where everyone sat about in the lobby. You went limp against him, knowing there was little use in fighting the stubborn demon, a small chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a little fun with the situation, as messed up as it was.

“Oh! Adam!”

You heard Charlie’s voice as Adam came to a stop in the center of the lobby. He set you down on your feet, turning to Charlie with a smirk. “Got the bitch out, no need to thank me, I know I’m the best.”

“Right...” Charlie gave him a forced smile. She turned her eyes onto you, about to ask you a question, when Adam spoke back up, ripping Charlie’s attention away and back onto him.

“So, listen, CharChar,” Adam smirked as his particular use of the nickname caught a certain Devil’s attention. “I just came up with a sick ass way to thank you for letting me freeload off you while I’m down here. Seeing as how you guys all love a sappy fucking song, I decided, why not have the First Man put on a little show? I’ve got the voice, I’m the best at what I do, it’d be the fucking best.”

Charlie’s eyes visibly lit up with excitement, Adam’s words surprising the other residents as well. The entire time Adam had been staying at the hotel, he refused to do anything for anyone, and especially refused to thank Charlie for allowing him to stay. Charlie had assumed his sudden change had occurred because of you, giggling excitedly at the thought. Finally, she was seeing some progress. Or so she thought.

“That’d be great! When would you like to do it?” Charlie asked, beaming up at him.

“Right fuckin’ now,” Adam smirked, grabbing her wrist. Charlie yelped in surprise as Adam dragged her toward the lobby steps, leading her toward the roof of the hotel.

With that, Adam had set up a very impromptu concert. You had tried to tell him that it was too much for a little bit of messing with Lucifer, but Adam was dead set on doing it. You didn’t even understand what a concert had to do with making Lucifer jealous because, as far as you knew, you weren’t even joining Adam in his little surprise concert. Adam didn’t tell you anything, just that he was going to have a little fun with the song.

Charlie had materialized a small stage on the roof of the hotel, the hotel’s bright lights lighting up the stage brilliantly. She was nearly bursting at the seams with excitement, so much so that Vaggie was having to calm her down somewhat. You looked at Charlie with a brow slightly raised, almost concerned for the woman, before your gaze drifted onto a person standing in the back. Lucifer.

You knew he was only up here because Adam had led Charlie up here. Lucifer didn’t trust Adam a single bit, barely letting the demon out of his sight sometimes. In fact, the only times where Lucifer wasn’t watching Adam like a hawk was when Adam was with you. The thought made you frown, huffing as you walked up to the stage where Adam stood, tuning his angelic guitar.

“Hey, Adam,” You called out, trying to get his attention without earning others’ unwanted attention. Adam looked down at you, before smirking and walking up to the edge of stage you leaned against.

“Wassup, babe?” He asked, sitting down. You hummed, your finger pressing into the wood of the makeshift stage, pulling at one of the jagged chips.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? It’s going a little far just to make Lucifer jealous...” You muttered. Adam scoffed, his eyes rolling heavily enough to be seen even through his digital mask.

“Come on, this is our revenge! This is our way of getting back at that midget for fucking our relationships up. He’s a little cheater and a wife stealing asshole. Let’s just have fun with this!” Adam exclaimed, grinning widely, baring his fangs.

Before you could reply, Adam stood up, pulling his guitar up to rest on his shoulder. His movements as he walked to the center of the stage caught the attention of the little audience, everyone’s eyes landing on him. You huffed, stepping back to stand next to Charlie as Adam spoke up.

“You guys ready to have your fuckin’ panties blown off by my sick skills!?” Adam yelled, getting excited himself. Not only had it been a long time since he got to play any music, but it was all to fuck with Lucifer. This was the best kind of music. “Let’s do this shit!”

Adam strummed the strings of his guitar, making an almost bursting sound, before easing into a slow tune. You looked up at him in surprise, not aware that he could make any music that wasn’t just loud noise and screaming. It sounded shockingly good, almost like he planned this, and you knew he hadn’t.

“Nothing is holding you back now,” Adam began, his voice soft, and lacking any of the curses he usually threw around. He looked down at you, winking and blowing a kiss, causing your face to warm up as you chuckled nervously. “No one can push you around.”

“What do you wanna do? You’re the master of you,” Adam stepped closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes trained completely on you. He reached his hand out to you, surprising you as you hesitantly took it. “And isn’t the thought enough to lift you off of the ground?”

Adam yanked you up off the ground, pulling a squeal out of you as he threw you into the air. A pair of wings sprouted from your back, the lights of the hotel and the city shining all around as you floated high above everything. Looking down at Adam, he gave you a large grin and a thumbs up, making you giggle.

“Nothing,” You sang along, a grin spreading across your face. “Is holding me back now. No one can push me around.”

Landing next to Adam, you looked up to the taller demon with a beam, your lips tugged upward into a smile. “What do I wanna be? I’m the master of me, and isn’t the thought enough to lift me off of the ground?”

Your wings flapped in sync with Adam’s as you both lifted off the stage, mimicking each other’s smiles. Adam took the lead, leaning into you as he sang.

“We could be independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Adam leaned his back against yours, your wings pressed together, moving together as one. “Independent together, independent together,”

You looked up to Adam with wide, awestruck eyes, your genuine smile a sight to see. Adam had been the only one to make you smile like that in a long, long time, and he knew it. It made something within him flutter to life, something he hadn’t felt in a just as long time. Genuine happiness. He truly enjoyed singing with you.

“Independent together, you and I,” Adam shot you a smile, making you giggle as you pulled away from his back.

Adam looked back to you in surprise, his eyes widening as two more pairs of wings sprouted from your back. A halo formed above your head, its form in the shape of a crown on your head. Its white coloration immediately drew attention as your hair fluffed out, much like that of a seraphim. Your bright blue eyes shone brightly, matching the new pairs of eyes that dotted your body and wings, your clawed hand reaching out to Adam.

Adam looked up at you in shock, no doubt unaware of what status you had been as an angel. You giggled as he hesitantly took your hand, momentarily awestruck by your transformation. He quickly recovered though as he pulled you to him, holding your angelic form against his own demonic body.

“High above an endless sea,” Adam’s face leaned in closer, his breath fanning your face. You smiled up at him, leaning into his hold, letting him guide you. “No one brought us here but me. Every step and every choice...”

His body turned, squeezing your hand as he pulled you along. Backs pressed together; you fell downward back to the stage. “It’s my fault, it’s my thought, it’s my words, it’s my voice,”

Landing on the stage with an explosion of light, you let out a giggle as you used your own angelic magic to summon a matching bass to play along with Adam. Adam’s face visibly lit up as you began singing and playing along, your voice taking on a more angelic sound.

“Independent together, independent together, if we try,”

You and Adam leaned in, your smiles lighting up the stage as you sang together, perfectly in sync. “Independent together, independent together, independent together, you and I,”

You had completely forgotten the whole point of this impromptu concert at this point. You forgot that there was an audience, that the rest of the world surrounded you. In the bright lights of the city and hotel, you could only see Adam before you, his face progressively getting closer.

“Independent together, independent together, we can fly,” Your six wings spread out, your eyes glowing with exhilaration. You didn’t notice just how few inches apart your face was from Adam’s, nor did you see just how that affected the Devil that caused this whole concert to begin with.

“Independent together, independent together,” Your hand reached out to Adam, your palm pressing against his masked face as you looked into his eyes. He could have sworn you were looking straight through his mask and into his eyes with how you were holding eye contact, getting lost in each other’s eyes. “Independent together, you and I,”

Your wings slowed to a stop as you and Adam landed. You leaned your forehead against his, surprised as he returned the gesture full heartedly, nearly leaning into you as the song slowed to a stop.

“Independent together, you and I...”

You looked up to Adam in both surprise and excitement. Adam held the same exact expression, as if surprised by how carried away they had gotten. Laughter bubbled from within you as the bass you held disappeared, jumping into Adam’s arms with a squeal. Adam chuckled as he held you up, spinning around, before setting you down.

“That was fucking awesome, babe!” Adam exclaimed, throwing his arms up in exaggeration. You chuckled at his reaction, before remembering that you had an audience. You turned your attention to see their reactions, your eyes widening.

Tears streamed down Lucifer’s face as he stood in the very front of the small crowd. He looked up to you with a desperate, almost pleading look. Charlie called out to him with a worried tone, snapping him out of his daze as he roughly rubbed his sleeve across his face, whipping around and storming off without a single word.

“Dad, wait! What’s wrong!?” Charlie yelled, watching as he slammed the door behind him, disappearing into the hotel. A loud burst of laughter caught her attention as she turned around to see Adam completely doubled over, struggling to contain himself and breathe.

“D-Did you see his fucking face? We broke him,” Adam stuttered through his laughter, wiping away a fake tear from his mask. He stood up straight, turning to see your reaction, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt as he saw the distraught look on your face.

“Wait a minute,” Charlie held her hands up, shaking her head in disbelief as she approached the stage you and Adam stood atop. “You mean you did that on purpose? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Come on,” Adam groaned in annoyance, jumping down onto the floor before Charlie. “We were just messing around. We wanted to get a little revenge for Luci ruining our relationships.”

“What?” Charlie’s brows furrowed in confusion, turning her attention to you as you stepped down from the stage, your angelic form disappearing in a flash of gold. “What is he talking about? What relationship?”

You stilled at Charlie’s words. It seemed your hesitation caught the others’ attention, Charlie leaning in closer as she glared down at you. You growled in annoyance, turning your irritation on Adam. “Come on! They weren’t supposed to know!”

“Oh, shit, my bad,” Adam held up his hands defensively, stepping back from you. Your attention was shifted back to Charlie as she urged an explanation from you, making you sigh in frustration.

“Ch-Charlie, there was a reason I never said anything. I didn’t want to get in between you and your family, even if Lucifer and Lilith are split up. I didn’t want you to be mad at Lucifer, I—”

“What are you saying?” Charlie cut you off, confusion written across her face. She didn’t understand. She didn’t want to understand, but she was already beginning to get somewhat of an idea. She knew what Lucifer did to you, abandoning you in the garden and running away with Lilith. But she didn’t even imagine that there was a whole other layer to it. She didn’t want it to be.

“Charlie... Your dad and I were married,” You spoke softly, as if scared your words might harm her, scar her. She loved her father deeply and held him up on a high pedestal. She would often talk about how her parents met, and how she loved their love story, even if they were split up. You couldn’t bear to ruin that image, even if you were mad at Lucifer.

Charlie’s eyes widened as she froze up. It almost felt as though her heart came to a halt in her chest, stilling the blood in her body. “Wh-What?”

“I kept it a secret because I didn’t want to ruin the image of Lucifer that you have. Please don’t be mad at him, I—”

“How could I not be mad!?” Charlie exclaimed. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes going wide. You didn’t think you’d ever heard Charlie yell in the time you had spent in Hell. You almost didn’t think she was capable of getting genuinely angry.

“All my life, I thought mom and dad had a perfect relationship,” Charlie paced back and forth, pulling her hair by the roots, something that had become a habit in times of stress. “Even when mom left, dad still stayed loyal, he wore her ring, he didn’t try to move on. I-I can’t believe he would do that! He’s such a fucking asshole!”

“Babe, calm down...” Vaggie tried to plant Charlie in place, placing her hands on Charlie’s chest to keep her from pacing. Charlie growled in annoyance, sidestepping Vaggie as she continued to walk her anger off.

“And you! How could you stay quiet about this?” Charlie looked down at you with a pleading look. “I deserved to know what kind of a man my dad is. I should have known what he did to you, what he...”

Charlie trailed off, hiding her face in her hands. Her body shook slightly, the telling sign of the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. Your heart broke at the sight of Charlie struggling to keep herself together, stepping toward her as you gently grabbed her wrists.

Pulling her hands away to reveal her sorrowful face that had been soaked in tears, you gave her a soft smile, your thumbs caressing the palms of her hands to try and calm her. Charlie had been the only person aside from Adam to be friendly to you, the only demon down here that truly cared for you. You couldn’t stand to see her breaking down, not over something that was between you and Lucifer.

“Charlie, despite what Lucifer did to me, he’s still a good person. He’s spent the last ten thousand years trying to make up for what he’s done, to make up for his past mistakes. I don’t want you to be mad at him, not when he’s putting so much effort into making a change,” You dropped Charlie’s hands to move to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, isn’t the whole point of the hotel to atone and become a better person?”

Charlie’s eyes seemed to widen at that, as if remembering her whole mission with the hotel. A soft chuckle bubbled within her, lifting her hand to wipe away the stray tears that remained. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Charlie pulled you into a hug, momentarily surprising you before you returned it in full, holding her tightly. You felt her sigh shakily against you, releasing the remainders of her stress, before pulling away with a renewed smile.

“You know, if you keep making progress like this, you’ll be redeemed in no time,” She said, making you chuckle. But your laughter died down as you turned your attention back to the door that Lucifer had stormed through not too long ago.

“Maybe you should go check on him,” You said, gesturing toward the door. Charlie’s eyes followed your own, a soft hum on her lips as she mulled over it. She couldn’t help but still be slightly upset over the reveal of her father’s infidelity, having to remind herself that the whole point of her mission was to forgive those who did wrong.

She looked down at you with a smile, holding her hand out for you to take. “Could you come with me?”

You looked up to her, bright blue eyes going wide. You weren’t entirely sure you were ready to talk yet, still afraid that you might give in to your emotions and give him another chance. You were still afraid that he would take advantage of your weak emotional state and hurt you again.

But the look Charlie gave you promised that she wouldn’t allow her father to hurt you, never again. So, despite your better judgement, you trusted her, placing your hand, and your emotional security, in her own.

Leading you back into the hotel, you and Charlie went out to search for Lucifer. Finding his bedroom to be empty, the two of you made your way down into the lobby, surprised to find him just about to leave. Charlie called out to him, surprising him as he whipped around, a forced smile on his face.

“Ah, Charlie! I was just about to head out, I—”

Lucifer cut himself off upon seeing you beside Charlie. The forced smile immediately dipped into a frown, but he stayed in place as you and Charlie approached. He wanted more than anything to disappear from the world and never been seen again, especially as he felt your cold blue eyes meet his own.

“Dad, there’s something we should talk about,” Charlie began, before taking a deep breath and looking at you. “Something you should talk about.”

You looked up to her nervously, your heart thundering in your chest, especially as Charlie released your hand and stepped back, leaving you to stand alone before Lucifer. Your gaze landed on his eyes, bright red irises that you had always found alluring. You opened your mouth to say something, Lucifer doing the same, but nothing came out, no words were spoken. You could only look away, casting your stare onto the floor.

Charlie seemed to notice the thick, tense air between you two, sighing deeply. A small smile pulled at her lips as her soft voice filled the lobby, catching the attention of you both. “Why don’t you talk to each other?”

Charlie stepped toward you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and back, pushing you toward Lucifer. Both yours and Lucifer’s eyes widened at the sudden close proximity as Charlie continued. “Why don’t you talk to each other? Just give it a try,”

Charlie grabbed her father’s hand, Lucifer’s eyes stuck glued to yours, giving you an almost fearful look. He jumped in his skin as he felt Charlie place his hand in yours, the touch of your corrupted angelic skin the exact same as he always remembered. “Why don’t you talk about what happened? I know you’re trying to avoid it, but I don’t know why,”

“You might not believe it,” Charlie gave you a reassuring smile as she stepped back, leaving you in the presence of Lucifer. You glanced at the hand where you were connected with him, unable to help the heat that rushed to your cheeks, or the tears that began to well in your eyes. “You might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,”

“You both love me, and I love both of you...”

Lucifer sighed, his hand squeezing yours gently, taking in the way your soft palm felt under his thumb. He looked away, taking in a shaky breath as he forced his voice to work for him. “Look, if I were you, I’d hate me too.”

“I don’t hate you...” You muttered, keeping your gaze on the floor as you held back your tears. Your throat squeezed tightly, trying to keep everything tightly wound up inside you, trying to hold yourself together.

“Why not?” Lucifer looked up to you with wide eyes, as if begging you to hate him. Because it’d be easier for him to come to terms with you hating him, than for him to accept that you’ve moved on and don’t care anymore. “Y-You should hate me, you should want me dead,”

You looked up to him in surprise, a stray tear escaping your eyes as you chuckled, your cheeks crinkling slightly. “I guess this place is just rubbing off on me. I got so tired of being mad, I just couldn’t bring myself to fight you anymore. I would rather just forgive you and move on.”

“B-But—” Lucifer cut himself off, tears brimming in his eyes. He deserved to be hated, he was the most hated being in existence. It simply wasn’t fair, he hated that you forgave him before he forgave himself. He couldn’t forgive himself. He would never be able to.

His eyes widened as he felt your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t realized escaped. He looked up to you in shock, trying to understand what was going through your head, why you were doing the things you did, the things that made him miss you even more.

“If you wanted to, we could move on together. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust you again, but I trust Charlie, and I know she won’t let me get hurt here,” You chuckled softly, looking over at Charlie with a smile, before turning your attention back to Lucifer as you stepped closer to him. “You’ve raised a wonderful person, Lucifer. She’s the entire reason why I can forgive you. She’s the reason why I want to move on with you.”

Lucifer stared up into your angelic eyes, his body shaking as tears streamed down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, crashing into your arms as he held you like his life depended on it. “More than anything,”

He looked up to you, his eyes glimmering in the lights of the hotel, his lips pulling into a soft smile. “I’d love it more than anything.”

You giggled, grabbing hold of his hands, pulling him to a slow dance. Lucifer was practically beaming at you now, his tears streaming freely down his face as he chuckled, following along.

Charlie couldn’t help the smile that graced her face, watching the scene before her unfold as she continued to sing, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes as well. “I know you both need it, I know you both need it,”

“Someone who knows what you’re going through,”

Your laughter filled the room as Lucifer spun you around, the sound making his heart flutter. A chuckle escaped his lips, before he too was laughing, getting lost in the sounds of your joy. A sound he’d missed for far longer than he realized.

“You might not believe it, you might not believe it, but you got a lot in common, you really do,”

Your feet slowed to a stop as you looked down into Lucifer’s eyes, your hands moving to cup his cheeks. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his own, strands of your hair tickling his face. You felt him wrap his arms around your neck, his breath fanning your face as he sighed.

“You both love me, and I love both of you...”

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” Lucifer said, looking into your bright blue eyes. You smiled, moving to pull him into a hug.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” You muttered against his shoulder, basking in his presence. Perhaps this was the happy ending you had waited so long to get. It wasn’t perfect, but nothing was. Not even angels were perfect, as you had found out. But now, you wouldn’t have things any other way. Because now, you were finally happy. You could start anew, with the new friends you’ve made, with Lucifer. You were finally ready to let him back in.

“You both love me, and I love both of you...”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

@christineblood, @jellyedkazoo, @sirenetheblogger, @charliesicedcoffee

#charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #Spotify

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rogueddie · 5 months

Text

Disabled Steve / Eddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🦻

give me a sign

findmeinthewychelm

It was sweet torture the way Steve was pining over him. Robin was sick of listening to him talk about Eddie, but she also hadn’t stopped him yet.

Words : 4,235 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

what would you trade the pain for (i'm not sure)

Library_of_Gage

Steve doesn't bother anyone with his chronic pain; it's something he'd rather keep to himself. And then it spikes in the Upside Down, in front of Eddie Munson, and Steve slowly starts to learn that, sometimes, sharing what hurts does help.

Words : 8,230 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Our Love is Shown in the Letting Go

Xxbottlecapxx

Steve’s mother comes home and has to deal with the fact that she has no idea who her son is, and maybe never will.

Words : 10,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

Who Am I to Say What Any of This Means?

IndigoFudge

Eddie’s eyebrows are raised. He’s speaking deliberately. “My first grade teacher set up a meeting with Wayne and told him she thought I had autism. So Wayne took me to the doctors and it turned out she was right.”

He is still looking at Steve. Oh. Steve’s been staring at him like an idiot for forty seconds instead of acknowledging this important, incredibly personal detail that he has just shared. Steve remembers eye contact––one, two, three––then answers. “That’s cool.”

“Steve,” Eddie says, carefully. “Have you ever been tested? Because I’ve been noticing… When I look at you, I kinda see some signs.”

Words : 7,371 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

she'll know me crazy, soothe me daily (better yet, she wouldn't care)

jewishrat420

Eddie doesn’t really cry about this anymore. He’s long since shed his own personal tears of pity, spent enough time mourning a different life. He’s accepted it, for the most part, doesn’t really give a shit about being normal or whatever. No one’s normal.

But this…Eddie’s not used to this. He’s never had someone hold his face in their hands, look him dead in the eyes and say, “Eddie Munson. For better or for worse, and fuck, I know this is worse, I want to know you.”

Words : 3,988 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

the beginning of a bad joke

alligator_writes

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

Words : 7,083 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I Took The Good Times, I’ll Take The Bad Times (I Take You Just The Way You Are)

steddieeddie

In 1984, Eddie Munson told Steve he was going to marry him one day laying in the quiet confines of Steve’s room.

In 1985, they broke up. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because Steve thought they had to. They spent almost an entire year apart, hurting, wondering about what could have been.

In 1986, Steve Harrington was almost fatally injured in the final attack against The Upside Down, against Vecna. He spent seventy six days comatose, and then almost an entire year in the hospital learning how to be a person again. He learns how to open and close his hands, hold things, and how to feed himself again. Steve learns how to stand, how to walk, going from walker to cane by the time he is allowed to go home.

In 1987, he did just that. He goes home.

It was a slow process. Way slower than Steve wanted it to be, but it was worth it.

Sure, his hands were never going to work the same, there was constant pain in his arms and left leg, and he would never walk without a cane, but at least he’s alive.

He made it.

That was what mattered.

Words : 30,101 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

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wannab-urs · 5 months

Text

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you.

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here.

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH.

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming.

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet.

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners.

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?”

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading.

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?”

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap.

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file.

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work.

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner.

“So what are your plans tonight?” he asks.

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe.

“Your plans? For your birthday?”

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet.

“Me and Murphy could take you out?”

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,” Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look.

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door.

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life.

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve?

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door.

“Peña? What are you doing here?”

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face.

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.”

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware.

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.”

“Fine… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you.

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better.

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you.

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little.

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip.

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty.

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue.

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips.

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.”

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?”

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt.

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Come for me, baby.”

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you.

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you.

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.”

He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?”

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you.

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.”

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you.

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter.

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly.

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

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mercurygguk · 8 months

Text

head over skates · jjk ; part iv.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can’t stand it.

so what happens when you’re suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,098

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing, mentions of sex, jk being nice and getting shit for it lol

a/n; part 4 and ohmygodddd the angst is coming y'all !! i hope you enjoy reading this one – lmk what you think and tysm for reading <3

It’s a nice day today.

The sun is shining, it’s getting warmer due to spring, there’s not a single hint of a breeze in the air, and everyone seems to be in a great mood. It’s amazing what the changing seasons do to people and their mood – yourself included.

You’re working on the project for your photography class while sitting on your jacket on the grass quad on campus. You’ve almost finished the introduction and made sure to note down the plans for the project as well as set up the whole layout. The need to be organized has taken over but you always see it as a good thing; it keeps you focused and it makes school work seem less overwhelming.

It’s peaceful here on the quad, the faint sound of other students talking and laughing fills the atmosphere around you. There’s even a guy playing the guitar not too far away from you.

It’s nice, you think to yourself as a small smile spreads across your lips.

Until it isn’t anymore.

The evil spawn, also known as Jeon Jungkook, suddenly appears in front of you and blocks the sun as he grins at you, looking cheerful and happy for some reason you don’t care to know about.

Your smile has now turned into a scowl as you stare at him, ignoring the fact that he’s once again holding two americanos in his hands, “is this gonna be a thing now?”

Jungkook nods instantly, not noticing or simply just ignoring the glare you shoot at him.

“Yeah, it’s a tradition now, ____ – I bring iced Americano and you bring your moody attitude and then we work on the project together,” he says, his grin now a smirk that you suddenly feel the urge to slap off his face.

God, why is he so persistent on doing this project with you? Why can’t he just leave you to do it on your own? Why can’t he go do what he usually does – being a fuckboy and play hockey – instead of bothering you with his presence?

You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at his words, choosing to ignore the comment he so casually dropped about you being ‘moody’.

“I can get my own iced americano, thank you very much,” you pointedly say.

“Oh, really? Where is it?” He asks, looking around on the grass surrounding you, “did you chug it?”

His quick retort circuits your brain as you’re left gaping at him. You then shake your head as if to clear your head and ask another question.

You’re not quite sure why you haven’t told him to leave yet…

“So what? Are you stalking me now?”

Jungkook snorts as you quirk an eyebrow at him in question, shooting you a look of amusement as he glances around at all the people surrounding you and him.

“____, you’re literally on the campus quad. Anyone with eyes in their head could find you here.”

You blink at him for a second, causing Jungkook to flash you a knowing smirk and offer you one of the beverages he so kindly brought along once again. You decide to ignore his smart retort and take the iced americano he’s holding out, instantly taking a sip and withholding the moan of satisfaction that was threatening to escape just now.

Jungkook huffs out a chuckle to himself as he sits down next to you and slips off his backpack, pulling out his laptop. You stare at him in bewilderment as if he has three heads when he sits down, wondering how he’s taking your hostility as an invite to sit down with you.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” You can’t help but ask, confused as to why he’s sitting here next to you for the second time within just two days.

“To work on the project?”

There’s a look of confusion on his face as he looks at you, eyebrows pulled together in question.

“No, seriously – I told you, I’m doing this project by myself. What are you really doing here?”

Jungkook’s face twists in slight annoyance at your determination to work on the project by yourself, “you’re not the only one who cares about their grades, you know?”

He doesn’t care about his grades – there’s just no way that a stereotypical jock like him could care about anything but frat parties, getting laid and his sport. Old Jungkook might’ve cared but this Jungkook right here? He hasn’t given a single fuck about anything but hockey and his image since he became the popular and hot hockey player.

“Are you saying that me doing the project on my own will give us a bad grade? If anything, you working with me on the project will make it even worse!”

The tone of your voice has turned defensive as you cross your arms over your chest and stare at him. Jungkook scoffs, a hint of amusement within the sound. If he’s offended by your words, he doesn’t show it. Why would he be? He doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

“Excuse me, I have a 94 in this class right now!”

You fall silent.

A score of 94%.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, wondering how he managed to score a 94 in photography when all he ever does with his spare time is hooking up with girls around campus or spending it in the hockey arena with his teammates.

“And how did you manage to do that? Did you flirt with Mrs. Kim or something?” You huff out a mocking chuckle.

Just for a split second, you swear you see a flicker of hurt flash across his eyes before it’s replaced by his usual smirk.

“And if I did?” He taunts.

Your eyes roll before you have a chance to stop them from doing so, causing Jungkook’s smirk to turn into an almost devilish grin.

“Wow, ____, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

His words have you scowling at him – something you seem to do a lot when he’s anywhere near you. You then grab the iced coffee and take another sip, turning your attention back to your laptop screen, leaving Jungkook to sit next to you and work on the project in silence. You don’t say another word to him as you share the document with him so he can partake in the process.

His words affected you more than you wish they did because it was once the truth but if there’s anything you’ll never be again, it’s being jealous of something Jeon Jungkook does.

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daydreams-after-dark · 2 months

Text

Pairing: musician!Han x reader… bartender!chan x reader … security guard!Changbin x reader.

Synopsis: Han asks you to meet him in the corridor at a bar. Chan and Changbin join in for the fun.

About a 7 minute read.

This story is moderately unhinged. Porn without plot.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

A/n: I couldn’t sleep the other night and thought to myself “what’s a naughty fantasy I could write about that isn’t realistic in the slightest?” but also not fantasy genre (one day I’ll write a non human Han story, promise).

This is what I came up with. Please be safe when having sex. The following isn’t recommended except in delululand where anything goes. 😜

CW: unprotected p in v sex with multiple strangers in a semi public space (a bar) and ppl see // voyeurism // exhibitionism // sub reader // 3Racha cum dump situation // gagging with underwear// mating press kind of// oral sex m rec// slight degradation- they talk like reader isn’t there // size, stretch kink// mild pain kink// I don’t offer a safe word option in this story but I promise reader wants it all (cos I made her up)// like I said it’s not realistic // if you are uncomfortable with any CW please don’t read.

A/n (again): Okay so now that’s out of the way… the scenario that got me hot and bothered…

Oh and by the way way if you want to be tagged in my after dark content because you’re as filthy as me, please let me know 😘

Really… let’s get started… I’m writing this 3 wines in 🤪 so who knows where we’ll end up. 🫣

You sit on a stool at the bar watching the musician on stage. His name’s Han, and he is singing a love song whilst playing his acoustic guitar. He’s fucking gorgeous and you can’t keep your eyes off him.

The bar itself is pretty empty. There’s the bartender. His name tag says “Chan”, a dozen or so patrons and a security guy pacing the entry way. You’re dressed up far more than anyone else here tonight in your short, tight, stretchy boob tube style dress and strappy stilettos.

Han finishes his song, and apparently his set list because he leaves the stage and some random music comes through the speakers. You turn back to face the bar and concentrate on your drink.

That’s when you feel a hand on your thigh. You turn to see who has the audacity, the nerve, to just come up and do that and find it’s none other than Han himself. Your breath catches in your throat. But he doesn’t actually acknowledge you. He just reaches over the bar, grabs a pen and scribbles something on the back of a coaster and pushes it in front of you. Then after a knowing, silent exchange with Chan, Han is gone.

You look down at the coaster to see a note, an invitation, just for you.

Meet me in the corridor in three minutes.

Corridor? You look around the bar.

“He means the corridor outside the bathrooms.” Chan informs you, like he’s seen this play out before. Oh? So Han does this often? You wonder for half a second, until your feel your pussy throb. You’d better listen to your pussy, you tell yourself.

…..

He’s waiting against the wall outside the bathrooms. Just like Chan said.

You take deep breath and bravely walk up to stand in front of him. He smells intoxicating.

“Hey?” You say quietly.

“Hey, baby.” He replies in a deep, husky voice.

You take a step towards him but in one swift move he turns you around and presses you against the wall.

You cry out in surprise at the forcefulness, then moan into his mouth when he crashes his lips on yours. His hands slide down your sides and then grope your ass as he presses himself against you.

You feel your body spark with arousal as he makes out with you in a rough, urgent way. His hands move down to then reach up under the hem of your dress. He slowly inches it up beginning to expose your ass. You pull away from the kiss and he moves his mouth to your neck.

“M-maybe…we should…take it to the bathroom?” You say.

Han nibbles your ear, his hands cup your bare ass cheeks. “Here’s just fine, baby.” He whispers.

“What?” You yelp.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, not in a filthy toilet.” He grinds against you again and he’s so fucking hard it makes your cunt ache.

You see two women come out of the ladies room and glance over to where you are in the hall. They throw you an encouraging glance and throw a fist in the air to say “you go girl.”

“W-what about protection? You got something?” You pant. He’s really getting to you, and if he were to touch you right there, he’d know how ready you are for him to fill you with his cock.

His hands pull your dress up further exposing your red thong, and he hooks his hands into the sides of your underwear and peels them down your thighs.

You can hardly believe what’s happening when he’s dropped down momentarily to pick them up off the floor.

“Baby,” his voice is serious as his mouth inches closer to your cheek. “You’re asking too many questions. Just do as I say.” He shoves your panties into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Now listen.” He kisses your neck softly and his hands come back to squeeze at your ass. “I’m gonna fuck you raw.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth this time. “And I’m not gonna pull out.” He yanks your panties out of your mouth. “You understand?”

Your body feels like jelly. His words are turning you on far too easily. You nod vigorously. “Yes. I understand.” You gasp. The panties are pushed back into your mouth and Han smirks at you.

“You’re such a good girl.” He caresses your body. You’re melting under his touch. “I saw you watching me.” His fingers tease the edge of your pussy. You need him to touch you so bad. You feel a thrill knowing you’re naked from the waist down and your dress up around your waist - In a public hallway for fucks sake. Anyone could stumble across you. It makes your pussy squeeze.

You wrap your arms around his neck and begin to grind yourself against his clothed crotch, trying to get him to touch you already.

He slips his fingers between your legs and slides his finger along your pussy. “Fuck baby. I gotta fuck you right now.”

His hands leave your body to undo his pants and release his cock. You don’t even get to see it because he’s lifting you up and your legs automatically wrap around him. He presses you against the wall at the same time he manages to plunge deep into your cunt. You cry out around the panties in your mouth.

He’s inside of you. Fucking you raw just like he said he was going to. He fucks you deep and slow, leaning in close against you and breathing ragged breaths. “Fuck, you feel good… knew your pussy would feel perfect around my cock.” He panted.

Your eyes roll back into your head as this man you’ve barely exchanged two words with is fucking you better than anyone has in a long time.

A few minutes pass and you’re feeling delirious from the relentless pace Han has built up to and you close your eyes, relishing the feeling of being used like this.

You open your eyes to see two men approaching, and you’re startled for a second until you realise who they are.

Chan and the security guard, Changbin is what his name tag says. Fuck you’re going to be kicked out. Banned for life.

But they’re not here to kick you out. Chan comes up to your left, Changbin on your right.

“So you’ve found Han I see.” Chan notes as he breathes on your cheek.

“She’s an eager one. Look at her with her pussy out on display.” Changbin growls.

“Does she feel good, Han?” Chan asks.

“Fuck, yeah! She’s so tight. Such good pussy.” He pants and thrusts harder causing you to whimper.

Chan and Changbin start to kiss your neck, nip your earlobes, breath hot heavy on your skin. The additional physical contact, and just the scenario itself, makes your core tighten. Your orgasm is approaching, you can feel it building rapidly.

“Fuck, look at her responding! She likes the idea of three guys huh?” Changbin notes.

“Hey Hannie, let’s help you out a bit, yeah?” Chan smirks.

Chan and Changbin hook an arm under each of your legs, holding you up and essentially pinning you to the wall behind you. Your arms automatically hold onto their shoulders, as they continue to bury their faces in your neck.

Han pulls out of you the whole way and takes in the sight before him.

“Fuck! Look at her pussy. It’s dripping.” He says.

The two others look down and moan and curse under their breath. Han runs his hands along your inner thighs, pushing them wider. Chan and Changbin pull your legs out as far as they can and then push your bent knees up higher. It’s like they’re trying to get you into as close as a mating press as possible.

“Han, you should get her tits out too.” Changbin suggests. Han obliges and yanks down your strapless dress, spilling your breasts out. It causes a commotion as their hands start to grope and knead them.

Han steps closer, ready to penetrate you again. “This is gonna be so deep, baby.” He pushes his cock back inside you and cups the underside of your ass for leverage.

It is so fucking deep that you swear you can feel him in your throat. He slams into you time and time again. It hurts, but in the most satisfying way. Tears prickle at your eyes from how good you’re being fucked and then you cry out around your panties as you orgasm.

“Shit…shit…fuck…baby…so…slippery…” Han pistons into you frantically. “Fuck I’m cumming, baby.” You feel his release deep inside you, against your cervix, leaving you both panting as you try to catch your breath.

He pulls out, removes your panties from your mouth and uses it to catch his cum that starts to seep out of your hole. Once he’s satisfied, he balls up the underwear and shoves it back in your mouth.

“My turn.” Says Changbin. He swaps places with Han. They continue to hold you in this position as Changbin lines his cock up with your entrance. He’s thicker than Han and the stretch makes you moan a deep guttural sound.

“Yeah, you like Binnie’s cock, hmm?” Chan cooes. “Didn’t know she’d be such a cockslut when I served her drinks.” He added.

“I could tell.” Han replies and licks the skin on your neck.

You’re loving the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there or can’t hear them.

Changbin sets a slow and steady pace, but the way he angles his cock at the end of each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through you. He doesn’t change pace or intensity the entire time he’s fucking you. It’s relentless, excruciating, frustrating that he won’t go faster. You can’t do anything about it because you’re pinned in place.

You sob around the panties in your mouth and your mascara is running down your face as you cry. You need to cum again.

You feel fingers encroach your asshole and start to explore you there. Please don’t tease me. You think to yourself. You don’t know whose fingers they are, but when one squeezes into your tight hole, you cum instantly.

“Fuck! She’s cum again. Such a good girl.” Han praised you.

“Shit, she clamps down hard doesn’t she?” Changbin growls. He suddenly pulls out and coats your inner thighs with his cum.

Again, your panties are removed and used to wipe up as much cum off you as possible and then it’s put back in your mouth.

They release you and help steady you on your feet. Han and Changbin continue to kiss and caress, squeeze and nip at your body.

“My turn now, babygirl.” Chan says pulling a chair into the hallway. He sits himself on the chair, holding his erect cock in his hand. It’s enormous, and you’re not sure how you’re going to manage it.

“Come, sit on my cock. I want to feel if you’re as tight as these two are saying.”

You carefully straddle Chan, facing away from him so the other two can get a full view, and lower yourself over his cock. He stretches you so wide as you slowly sink down. Once you reach halfway you stop. It’s not going to fit.

“You’ve got a bit more to go, sweetheart. Do you need help?” He grabs hold of your hips and pulls you down the rest of the way. You whimper. It’s too deep. He’s too big.

“Now babygirl, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me. Make me cum.” He growls.

You press your stilettos into the carpet and start to bounce on Chan’s cock. The impact against your cervix is brutal and you cry out each time his cock makes contact with it.

You’re not sure how much you can take, but you want to be a good girl, you want to please them. You want to show them you make Chan cum. You ride him wildly with all the enthusiasm you can. Just like in the porn you love to watch. You reach down and rub at your clit, and your other hand comes to your breast. You want to put on a show.

“Fuck, look how red and swollen her cunt is!” Changbin stares at where you and Chan are connected, dick in his hand.

“Makes me want to fuck her again.” Han declares as he pumps his own hardening cock. “Bet it’s twice as tight now.”

They’re right. You are swollen and sore, but it feels so fucking good and you can’t stop.

You reach out, ushering Han and Changbin closer. They step forward and you wrap your hands around their cocks.

Chan’s hands wrap around your front so he can grab onto both of your tits, and Han reaches down to play with your clit.

“That’s the way baby. Your hand feels so good around my cock.” Moans Han.

“How does her cunt feel, Chan?” Asks Changbin.

“Tiny. Feels like I’m gonna split her in two. Fuck, I wanna break her little cunt.”

That was enough. Those obscene words took you over the edge and you were cumming again. Harder than ever.

“Babygirl, I’m close! Fuckin’ milk me. Make me cum. Yes. Yes. Good… fucking pussy…suck it all out me… There you go. There you go.” chan groans, filling you up.

“Quick. Kneel on the floor.” He’s is quick to shove you off his cock.

You kneel on the floor as instructed, and continue to pump Han and Changbin as they stand in front of you. Han rips your panties out of your mouth only to stuff it with his cock. Changbin holds the back of your head while Han fucks your throat. He’s not gentle and you gag. It seems to spur him on, each thrust deeper into your throat. Then he pulls out to tell Changbin do the same.

They take turns like this for a while, even attempting to stick them both in your mouth at once, with Chan slouched on the chair working on getting himself hard again.

Han and Changbin release you and admire the saliva, tears and smeared mascara all over your face.

Then the the three of them stand in front of you pumping their cocks.

“Okay, baby. You ready? Keep your mouth and eyes open for us.” Chan says.

You open your mouth wide and do your best to keep your eyes open as Han, Changbin and Chan shoot ropes of cum all over your face. Some gets in your mouth, but most of it lands on your cheek, eyebrows and caught in your eyelashes.

Fuck you looked like a cum dump with a bucketload on your face, and Chan’s cum running down your leg.

“So fucking pretty.” Han smears the cum around your face.

Your panties are again used to wipe your face, but they are so wet that it can’t absorb anything else.

Chan comes behind you and scoops up some of the leaking cum and pushes it back inside you.

Then they get you to stand up and put your cum-filled panties back on. They feel so wet and dirty. You fix your dress, pulling it back down over your ass and up over your tits.

You look around to find the men are gone.

“Well fuck me!” You say out loud.

“Well I hope I can again.” Han says a he comes out of the bathroom with paper towel. He wipes your face to get the remaining cum off your skin.

“I’m hoping you’ll come back to mine. I still have one more hole to fuck, and I really want to take my time with it.”

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @itshannjisung

#skz smut #han jisung smut #3racha x y/n #3racha smut #chan smut #changbin smut #sorshas fic

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munsonslove · 2 years

Note

Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??

Can I Kiss You?

(18+ only)

a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!

summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.

wordcount: 7.3k

tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n

“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.

“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”

“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”

He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”

“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”

Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.

At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”

He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.

“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”

“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’

You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years.

When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.

The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.

He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.

He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.

With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.

Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.

Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.

Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.

“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”

“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”

“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”

There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long.

His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.

“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.

“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”

“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.

You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.

You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.

“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.

He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.

“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.

“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”

You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.

Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.

He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.

He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.

“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”

“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.

He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.

“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out.

The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.

Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband.

While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”

Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.

He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.

“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.

His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.

“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”

You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.

“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”

His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”

His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”

He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.

Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.

Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.

“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.

“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”

“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”

“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”

“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”

He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.

“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.

“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”

A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.

“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”

As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”

His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”

“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”

“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”

“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.

“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.

“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.

“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”

“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”

He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”

You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”

His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”

“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.

“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”

“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently.

You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.

“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.

“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”

“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”

“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.

“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”

Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”

“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”

As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.

After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.

“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.

“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.

“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.

Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”

Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.

He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”

“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.

He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”

“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.

“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.

“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.

Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.

“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.

He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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navstuffs · 1 month

Note

hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it.

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month.

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him.

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?”

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him.

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him. Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say.

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?”

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?”

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.”

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.”

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.”

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?”

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans.

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated.

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.”

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“What? Of course, it would!”

“No, it would not.”

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches.

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him.

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.”

A friend?

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed.

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting.

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfics #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #request #requests #asks #ask

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waywardsou2 · 15 days

Text

Shirtless Cuddles with The Batch

Tags: Trans!Reader/M!Reader, masculine terms, AFAB reader, romantic but fluffy, cuddles, just general nice fluff, gayness

A/N: This is a scenario for all of my trans fellas out there. Or anyone that was born AFAB but isn't necessarily comfortable with their chest. How the Batchers would react if you wanted to sleep without your shirt on.

Basically, for context I am trans, and I am AFAB. I have not had top surgery yet but find it uncomfortable to sleep with my shirt on most nights. I've been stuck in the Bad Batch brain rot at the moment and was wondering what it would be like to cuddle with the Clones for the first time without a shirt on. In a fluffy romantic context tho. (I don't even know if any of this is making sense but if it does then please read on. Also I wanted to include Omega but didn't really know how to make that work so she unfortunately won't be in this one)

Scenario: You and your Clone are settling down for bed, it's been a long day and the missions have been rough recently. The two of you make your way to your shared quarters and you both begin changing for bed. You go to change out your shirt for another more comfortable one but you stop before you can even pull it over your head. You've been with your partner for a few years now and they know about your identity, they accept it wholeheartedly, but you've never taken the step to show them your body. You never felt ready, but something feels different tonight. "Hey, I want try something tonight?" Your Batcher turns to you and waits for you to respond looking slightly confused "I don't really want to wear my shirt tonight; it gets irritating sometimes. But I didn't know how you would react to my chest"

Hunter

Hunter turns to you and gives you a soft smile, he's knows that you toss and turn a lot of the night not being able to find a comfortable way to place your arms with your t-shirt twisted around you body. It the exact reason why he hardly wears a shirt in bead. He reaches forward and slips his fingers underneath your shirt, he looks at you for consent to keep going and when you nod, he gently pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His hands rest on your hips, and he looks at you, he doesn't even bother to look at your chest. It doesn't matter to him, he loves you for you, not your body, he loves the handsome man standing in front of him.

The two of you walk over to the bed and settle under the covers, you turn inwards, so your chest is facing his and curl up, he wraps his arms around you, stroking the exposed skin of your back and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before looking back into your eyes, softly he says, "You will always be my handsome man, no matter what."

And with that you rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat as his torso rises and falls with each steady breath.

Crosshair

Crosshair looks at you with a small question on his furrowed brow "Why are you asking me? It's your body so it's your choice"

Knowing that's as about as good as a response you are going to get from him you turn around and pull your shirt off, discarding it.

He looks at the floor as you do so but when you turn back around he looks up, he looks at your chest briefly but only for a moment, your arms are crossed over it, but doesn't think much of it. Your chest doesn't change his image of you. He gives you a wry but reassuring grin and pulls you over to the bed and the two of you climb in.

He isn't wearing a shirt either so as he rolls over and pulls your back into his chest you can feel his breathing and his heartbeat and his warmth, the feeling very calming. He wraps his arms around your stomach careful to not touch your chest and pulls you closer to his so your spine curves into his chest.

He traces patterns into your stomach and lower chest, he traces a line up in the small space between your ribs in your upper chest, he does it slowly, creeping up ever so slightly and when you don't protest he lays his hand there, feeling your heartbeat. He sighs contentedly and so do you.

He gives you a kiss on the back of your head and mumbles "Love you" so quietly you almost don't hear it. You hum in response "Love you too Cross" and the two of you drift off to sleep.

Wrecker

Wrecker is a little slow on the uptake and doesn't quite understand what you are getting at, at first.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I wasn't born the same as you, remember? My chest isn't flat like yours"

He thinks for a moment and then it dawns on him what you are getting at "Oh?! Yeah, I did kinda forget, you are just so manly it's hard to remember that sometimes"

You laugh, he's so endearing and his blunt honestly makes your heart thrum with happiness. Even if he doesn't realise his comments about blatantly stating how "manly" you are always fill your heart fit to bursting.

"So is it ok?" you ask again

"Yeah?! Of course!" he cups your face in his hands and gives you a big kiss on the forehead.

You take a step back to take of your shirt and then you step into his space again and he gives you a massive bear hug, you let out a laugh as he throws you onto the bed. He dives after you and you are both a laughing mess. So much for going to sleep.

He pulls you over so you are laying on top of him and he wraps his arms tightly around you "You are amazing you know that?"

You giggle and reply "You're amazing too Wrecker" and with that you lay there together, humming and laughing softly, an endless loop of uncontainable happiness. You felt so lucky to be loved by someone like Wrecker.

Tech

Tech also doesn't quite understand, he looks at you quizzically and says "Yes? That is fine? Why do you ask?"

"Because it's important?" you respond a little upset by his blunt response

He thinks for a moment and studies your face as he does so, he seems to come to a conclusion and opens his mouth again "Would you like me to close my eyes or turn away?"

You shrug your shoulders noncommittally and Tech considers you for another moment, then his face lights up slightly, like a lightbulb going off in his head. He removes his goggles and places them beside your shared bed "There. This way I can't see and you know that I won't be able to see"

You chuckle at him, he's not wrong but it still feels a little bit silly. He seems to understand there is still some hesitancy and he takes your hand "You should only do what you are comfortable with, and you should know that I would never judge you for your body. No matter what"

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he nods his head towards the bed. "Do you wish to cuddle or should I give you some space"

In response you scooch over to him and lay an arm over his side placing your head on his palm, which he turns over to cup the side of your face.

"Maybe one day you can ask the Kaminoan's to help alleviate your chest dysphoria. But you should know by now that your body will never define your gender."

His statement makes you tear up a little and you smile at him "Thank you Tech"

"It is no problem my dear"

Echo

Echo looks a little taken aback "Yes, that's fine" he doesn't really seem to know what to say, and neither do you.

Instead, you slip your shirt off and he looks away politely. You touch his arm to grab his attention and turn back but he continues to look at your feet.

"Can I look?" he asks shyly

"Yeah, that's the point silly" you say with a chuckle

"That's not exactly what I meant" he says even more quietly than before. "I mean can I look at you, all of you?"

You feel warmth creep up your neck and cheeks as he says this

"Y-yeah" you stutter out and he looks up at you.

He looks into your eyes first and then drops them to your chest, he doesn't say anything but he also doesn't look for very long. You stand there a little shy and a little self-conscious but he looks away quickly enough that you don't feel uncomfortable.

He takes his one good hand and raises it to your cheek, cupping it gently and you nuzzle into it humming.

"You are a very beautiful person. I feel like the luckiest Clone alive to be with someone as amazing as you. Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share your body with me. I know that couldn't have been easy"

You smile back at him, a grin stretching its way across your face "You can't be the luckiest man alive because I have you, and that makes me the luckiest" He blushes in return, the deep red a stark contrast to his pale skin.

You both crawl into bed and you wrap your arms around each other and slowly doze off, never letting go of one another.

Hope you enjoyed! This one goes out to all my trans brothers out there!

!Feel free to request any other ideas that you would like me to write!

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months

Note

oh ari, the prompt "They didn't like to be touched by just anyone. But that didn't mean they didn't also crave it sometimes." with one of the honkai star rail babes?

✮ tags ; touch-starved dan heng il, mild spoilers for his story, established but new relationship, gn!reader

Dan Heng had never thought about it.

For a long time. Since the beginning of his life, till now. Touch is a—has always been, a foreign concept. The lifestyle and ways of the Vidyadhara are foreign to him despite his lineage. Whatever lessons he might've had on love or relationships, he had lost a long time ago.

The first time someone had ever touched him more than briefly, was March 7th. After a long mission where Dan Heng had almost lost his life, she'd wrapped his arms around his shoulders and sobbed. Hugged him so tight he felt his breaths get labored.

At the time, Dan Heng only found it uncomfortable. But the aftermath had prompted many things. Memories, mostly, of phantom touches. Of a lover he doesn't know, and of a place he doesn't remember.

Dan Heng does not pay much mind to ghosts like these. After all, there are so many of them. His life is a long-standing haunting. It didn't alter the reality, that Dan Heng carries a form that had once been so loved.

He never thought about it, until one day - you confessed your feelings for him. In a simple, juvenile way. With a single flower and box of sweets from the Xianzhou. You confessed your love in a way Dan Heng found endearing. It took him another month to return them.

Since then, you've taken it easy. Gone at his pace, sheltering your true desires so he doesn't get scared away. It's unnecessary, he tells you, but you remain careful.

Before, Dan Heng didn't think about touch or being touched. He didn't like to be touched by just anyone, but he craved it. Sometimes. When he thought of you, Dan Heng would ghost his fingers over his arms and shoulders. So subtly it was easy to dismiss.

Lately it's harder to deny to himself, soft as a whisper. He wants you to touch him, in some small way. He desires it enough that you notice at least.

You're spending time in his room. Alone together, tending to something by yourself. Dan Heng is reading while you play a game. But truthfully he can't focus. The proximity between your bodies makes it hard.

"Dan Heng," You murmur. Dan Heng looks up at you "What are you staring at me for?"

"I wasn't staring,"

You laugh. "Well you keep glancing,"

He feels himself blush. "We're very close."

"Yes, I guess we are." You look at him confused "Does that bother you?"

"...No," He says, feeling his blush deepen "I don't mind if we're closer, either."

You pause, trying to register the words. When you do, your eyes soften. And you smile. You turn to lay on your side, propping your face up with your arm. Dan Heng's brows raise slightly, before he finds himself closing the book and carefully crawling into the space you've opened up on his bed.

He lays down first, and you let yourself slot into his side - legs tangling together. You let your arm drape around his waist as you pull him as close as can be.

The sudden proximity is intoxicating. You smell faintly like perfume and laundry detergent, and your breath is so warm against his skin. You're warm, in general, unlike him.

He melts into the touch despite himself. He knows so little of destiny, but he wonders if love is something that this form is destined for. Otherwise, he can't image being so lucky.

Your fingers splay around his waist, brushing up underneath his t-shirt. He pauses, before tucking his face against your shoulder and melting. He wants so little. Just you. Only you.

"Better?"

He laughs to himself.

"Yes," He says, and does not add anything about tolerating him "Thank you."

#return to sender #dan heng x reader #im(prompt)u game #writing tag

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ellaa-writes · 8 months

Text

Good Dög

authors note: Part 2, part 1 here. In the same Universe as The Beast Within series. Can't wait to expanded the world more. But anyways, enjoy! :) (wow did not notice i reached 200 followers!)

summary: His favourite words include; down boy, good dog, heel, fetch and his most favourite, get 'em. Well trained, and listens good. Loyal through and through. Always striving to be the absolute best. Ready to attack at all times, always on guard. Loves discipline, either giving or receiving. Working for a criminal mastermind, lurking in the shadows. You both trying not to be seen or noticed but after one unlucky night, all you both can see are the ghosts. He invades your life, if you both like it or not.

tags: Alternative Universe. A/b/o dynamics. Female reader. Lots of trauma in this one. Mentions of a dead body. Mentions of weapons, self defense. Reader has a panic attack. Simon saves the day once again. Slightly stalking Simon. not proof read

Two weeks passed since that fateful night at the corner store. Your days were filled with nightmares, and those eyes and that voice were always there to save you. Too pull you back into the light, always waking up with your heart pounding.

The police realeased your belonging back to you, you didn't bother telling anyone. If you did they would just urge you to seek out help, to talk to someone. But you can't afford that right now, you were already overworking yourself trying to save up enough money to move out of this hell hole.

Two weeks and not a word from him, Simon. You laid awake most mornings and nights, wondering what he was doing and if he thought about you to.

You felt silly for thinking that, sure Beta and Alpha relationships were common. Hell your parents were in a Beta/Alpha relationship. But you always felt unworthy, never meeting someone that sparked your interest as much as that Alpha did.

You had a few days off, only because the law required it. But if it was up to your employer you would have been working today.

You decided to get out of your apartment, to go for a walk, to try and not thinking about the cold steel on your throat and that evil smile. Anytime it crept into your mind you would wipe it away. Shove it back down with all the other shit you refused to face.

It was a beautiful day in the city, lucky for you it was a weekend. People littered the streets, groups walking together and chatting. The restaurants had their patios open, only if you had friends you thought. You'd be out there, drinking your fancy drink, eating your fancy food and smiling and laughing. Reminiscing about the good ol' days, but you had none of that. Instead you watched from a far, wishing that one day you'd wake up in a new body, new life.

But that never got you far. You've always been a keep your head down and don't stay for long type of gal. Having been alone in this world for longer than you remember not being.

You lost your mother young, and your dad left all together. Not wanting to raise a child by himself, being a single widowed father. Instead he forgot about you and met someone else. Started a new family, one where you weren't in the picture.

Living in foster care after foster care, until your turned of age and was pushed out into this unforgiving world.

You found yourself staring at the people, laughing and enjoying their time. You were staring for too long, sometimes lost in your own world. Taking your eyes off the people out on the patio, you began casing things out.

Since the accident, you've been on edge more. Keeping a small pocket knife on you at all time, and a can of bear mace. As regular mace wouldn't take down a drugged up Alpha.

As you were looking around you noticed something, or someone. The eyes that haunted your dreams, staring at you from across the street. The same eyes and voice from the corner store.

It couldn't be, you must be imagining it. That feeling of uneasiness creeping up from spine, your brain telling you to run. So you did, you spun around and decided this was a bad idea. Leaving your apartment was stupid. Mentally beating yourself up as you sped walked down the block. Trying to get as much distance between you and those eyes.

They didn't scare you, not intentionally. But you were seeing things, they weren't real. Taking a short cut through the back alley, not wanting to waste anymore time. You were too much in your own head, speeding down the desolate alley, not noticing the fast approaching footsteps behind you.

All you felt was the hands grabbing your arm, and in an instant you were spun around. Your bear mace in hand ready to spray at the intruder. But before you could it was knocked out of your hand. Flying into the brick wall beside you.

And there he was, Simon. It was real, you did see him. "You could kill someone like that." you snapped at him. Picking up your now busted can of bear spray. Hoping you can get another one soon. "Plan on using that on anyone?" he asked. His voice just as husky as the first time you heard it. Your heart skipped a beat, holding in the breath you just took, your core getting tingly.

"Well not anymore." you huffed, shoving the broken can into your bag. "Had anymore run ins?" he asked, noticing the small knife next to the can. "No." you were shuffling on your feet. Not wanting to be here anymore. "Just precaution." you explained.

You hated the way he was looking at you, his head tilted. He was judging you, noticing things about you that even you didn't.

The tenseness in your body, the way you were constantly looking around you, how you held your bag tight to your body. Your quick movements and that look in your eyes. The one he knew so well, the same look he'd have often.

You looked like a lost doe, eyes frantic and legs wobbly. He pitied you, knowing the inner battle raging on inside of you. One that he wish he could take away.

"How have ya been holdn' up?" he asked. Stupid question he thought. He knew from just looking at you, that if a big gust of wind were to come you'd crumble like a dry leaf in autumn.

"I uhhh-" you didn't know what to say. Do you lie to him now? "I'm getting by." you replied. Knowing that didn't fully answer his question.

You were running, not psychically but mentally. Your movements becoming more frantic, your eyes wide with fear, the lost doe cornered and trying to find a way out.

Simon knew this, as he felt it often. He did the only thing he could think of, and he wasn't sure if it was even going to work. He purred, he never purred before. Not even sure if he was doing the damn thing right, but it was pure Alpha instinct. A female in stress can sore the nose, the smell permeating far. Letting everyone know, it was old basic biology, things have evolved since then.

The purr was deep and low, sounding like a bike engine off in the distance. As he slowly stepped closer to you, making sure his shoulder were laxed and his scent enclosing around you like a bubble.

You didn't know what was happening, you felt the tightness in your chest. You began struggling to breath, wanting to dive into the garbage bin and hide. To scream, cry, kick and bite. All these emotions coursing through your body, you hands shaking. Trying to grip onto your arms, hugging yourself tight. Rubbing you neck against your shoulder. Trying anything to make this feeling go away.

Simon wrapped you in his arms, pushing your head into his chest. That's when you finally heard it, the low purring coming from it. It soothed you, making you feel like a pup being cradled by its father.

He held you tight to his chest, enclosing both of you in a bubble of his scent. Blocking out all other noise and smells. His juvenile attempt at consoling you were working, you began sucking in even and deep breaths. The tightness in your chest and back relaxing, you unwrapped your arms from yourself and wrapped them around Simon.

If you were anyone else and this was any other moment he'd he ripping your limbs off. But it was you.

The nights he'd spend wide awake, thinking about you. Everytime he closed his eyes he'd see your dead lifeless body, your dead soulless eyes staring back up at him. He couldn't sleep the first time, he had to make sure you were alright. Sneaking into a vacant apartment across the street, just to make sure she was alright, he told himself.

But it was nightly, then daily. Ignoring his own work to watch night and day. Making sure nothing could or would happen to you. He didn't know what got into himself, why he had these strong feelings towards you. What made you so special.

What made you different from the rest, you haunted him night and night out. And you were alive, so why does he keep seeing your dead body everywhere he turns.

His boss noticed he'd been quiter than normal, which is saying a lot for him. A conversation he had while sitting in his bosses office one night. He use to hate the man, seeing him as enemy number one. Making it his dying mission to take him down, to take him out.

But when shit hit the fan, and Simon was sent to prison. His years of decidated and hard work went down the drain, along with his life. He was a walking reminder, the people he considered close some even close enough to be family, all cut him off. Discarding him like he was yesterday's trash.

The man across from him in the office, sitting on the stiff leather chair. The man that went by König, he was the only one that was their for him. When he was realeased from prison, he was their at the gate. Leaning up against a black sports car. Simon thought he was dead, everyone at least still thinks he is.

He gave Simon an offer, a too good to be true offer. Turning it down, vowing to never cross that line. To go over to the other side. But after finding out that no one gave a shit, that him going to prison didn't change anything. Him taking the fall and paying the price. Just to have them all act like he never existed. So he didn't.

Death by fire, he found it fitting. He felt like his whole existence was flawed, the moment his mother became knocked up with him. A bastard growing in her belly. She left him like the rest did.

But what made you so special, it was a question that he didn't know if he'd ever get an answer to.

For two whole weeks he couldn't shake you. Lying too himself that he wasn't stalking you, that when you were gone for work, that he wasn't breaking into your place. To make sure the windows were sealed and the smoker detector wasn't low on batteries. He even fixed the buzzing from your fridge, something you did notice but chalked it up to old appliances.

If he knew any better he'd say he was infatuated with you.

With you still wrapped in his arms he brought you back to your apartment. Using your key to unlock your door, carrying you into your bedroom. Setting you down and wrapping you up. "I'll be back." he told you. Leaving for only a moment, coming back with a bag of hot food.

It was late in the night when he finally left. You were tucked into bed, everything locked and secured. He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but he'd be right cross the street. Having rented out the space after squatting in it for a few days. Paying for two rents wasn't ideal, but in his mind it was only tempory.

You guys talked for hours, you telling him about your past in foster care. How you saved up everything you could to move here and get this place. Only for you to now do the same so you could get out.

You told him about your dream to live out on the country side, to live a small village. To have a farm, yellow house and maybe a few pups running around. But how that dream seemed to slip away faster and faster everyday.

As he settled into postion, on the weathered chair at the window. Watching people flow in and out of the street below. His mind asked the same question it always did when he found himself in this spot. Why you? What was so special about you. But now he also thought about how he wanted to give you, your dream.

The yellow house, the farm to look after and of course the one thing he never would have wanted or thought of wanting....pups.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #Simon ghost riley #Simon riley #Cod ghost #Ghost mw2 #Ghost mwii #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #a/b/o dynamics #Alpha Simon riley #Tagging #König #Cause he was mentioned lol

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dearestxiao · 3 months

Text

the color blue: neon [part 2] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: the days until you finally meet your penpal has been ticking by so quickly, but with a new tutor, a clingy roommate, and a professor who seems to only want the worst for you, it's hard to keep track of time. WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, yandere characters, creepy xiao is creepy (lots of potentially uncomfortable thoughts from his perspective), heavily implied stalking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub-con touching, student-teacher dynamic, age gap (reader is 21+ and zhongli is 27+, feel free to adjust as need be). let me know if I need to add anything! reader is gender neutral.

wc: 10.7k

author notes: I wanted to first say thank you for the wait, and I hope that everybody is able to enjoy the changes and edits I’ve made to the story. I also wanted to say thank you to the mutuals who had helped me create the original version of the story. it has been a long time since then, and I’m not entirely sure if they’re still active (OTZ), so I’m not sure if they would still like to be tagged but I am forever grateful to them. this is the last exposition heavy chapter, as well as my last read edit/re-upload of a chapter, so the next few chapters will be much meatier with new content!!! again, thank you so much for the wait. love you all! as always, reblogs are very appreciated if enjoyed and if possible!

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1]

dark content. minors do not interact. do not repost/link.

from xiao's room, there's a perfect view of the town a bit away from campus that greets him everytime he steps inside. it's a gorgeous sight, which is something he could admit, even though he didn’t choose the place himself, one anyone would be grateful for. the town is bright and bustling even still, and it’s only now starting to dim down. it’s getting late into the night, with flashy lights and beautiful architecture and homey buildings, and so many people, people, people.

there are still families on an outing, and cute couples going on dates. shop owners sweeping around their store. he can see as the everyday salaryman walks back home, accompanying the students on their own way home from classes; he can see so many lives being lived from his isolated little tower.

and yet, on nights like these, no matter how enchanting the view, xiao usually prefers to keep his blinds tightly shutー out of sight, out of mind. jealousy is a vile thing, isn't it? it's nasty, tainting your view of the world, of the things you love. after the first few weeks after xiao had moved in, the view quickly lost the charm it once had. because at the end of the day, to him, the view only serves as a cruel reminder of just how alone xiao is and always has been.

it dangles around a painful reminder of the things xiao can never have. it's so close, yet so far out of reach.

but despite his usual bitterness, xiao doesn’t bother closing the blinds tonight, because tonight, he has hope, hope that he could one day be like the many walks of life he sees everyday from his apartment window. hope that he’ll have something worth wondering about.

xiao sits himself on his bed, the second biggest source of comfort in his life right now. for some reason, he feels awfully nervous. he knows why, but he can’t help but wish that awful feeling away. for a split second, he can’t help but wish he was as confident and fearless as... no. he won’t think like that, not right now, at least. he shakes away the thought. butterflies jitter all up and around his stomach as his shaky hands picks up his phone and dials numbers, your numbers. the digits are already memorized by heart.

he tries to calm his nerves as he presses the phone up to his ear after hitting the call button, nails digging into the pajamas he changed into when he got home. he thickly swallows, waiting as patiently as he can, like usual.

ring. rinnng. rinnnnnggg.

it doesn't take too long for you to pick up.

"hello?" he finally hears.

it's only one word (and a pretty basic one at that), but xiao can already hear the soft underlying shyness of your voice. his mouth naturally opens a little agape. you've always been nervous around those you weren't close to. your voice sends him into a state of bliss, so much so his brain is too foggy to reply until you coo out another hello, questioning if anyone is there on the other line due to the silence.

he almost has to force himself to speak "It's… xiao," he blinks, not even saying hello back, "from professor zhongli's class," xiao almost slips up by saying the name you know him much better by. “you… we spoke on the train. I don’t know if you remember,” he manages to stutter out.

you had seemed pretty out of it when you two talked earlier that very same day. you must’ve been so exhausted to have fallen asleep like that, right next to him. he’s still replaying the site of it over and over, the way you were struggling so hard to stay awake, head bobbing back and forth. it was probably embarrassing for you, but it was a pleasant sight for him. the soft puff of your cheeks and the furrow of your brows, the shallowness of your breath and how relaxed you looked. it made him feel like a creep, staring at you in that state, such an intimate state, a vulnerable state.

it’s why he had held back as long as he could before finally tapping you awake, wanting to bask in the precious sight for longer.

he snaps back to finally finish his explanation, “…you gave me your number earlier today," he says it less as a reminder to you, but instead as a reminder to himself. he bites his lip, waiting for you to respond, wishing he could see what you looked like right now.

in the meantime, he remembers how your eyes had begrudgingly opened back up at the feeling of him touching you. he remembers the warmth of your body that felt like it could melt his finger tips from the heat. he wishes he could see and feel both much more often, but xiao is patient. lord, is he patient.

he remembers how embarrassed you looked as you sat up in your seat, trying to reorient yourself. “sorry, what did you say?” you finally had spoken after getting settled. you must’ve been too frazzled to hear him the first time. he cleared his throat before he repeated himself, this time a little louder, a little less shy than the first time around.

“I asked which stop you get off at.” you looked at him with eyes big with confusion. he hoped, desperately (he’s always so desperate), that he hadn’t made you feel anything negative.

he made sure to explain the question in hopes that it made you feel more comfortable and not as confused. “…I can wake you up before you get there, if you’d like.”

despite his wants, he needed to make sure you were safe, and were able to actually get home. if he didn’t ‘protect’ you, who would? definitely not that roommate of yours.

to his (would be short-lived) disappointment you had shaken your head. “no, it’s fine. I really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.” you had paused for a short second before saying, “thank you, though, xiao.” he doesn’t like to remember how he almost shivered at the sound of his name coming from your lips, nor how he had to turn his head as he nodded because he could feel heat creep up it.

"oh, yes, xiao! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. what can I do for you?"

“you asked on the train if I could tutor you. I wanted to set something up.”

it’s true, even if xiao can’t believe it himself. he knew this day would come, but didn’t expect it to be this soon. after several minutes of silence between you two, (or at least as silent as it could be on a train), you had turned to him, as if remembering something, getting his attention before you asked him something.

“sorry if this is coming out of nowhere. I was wondering if…” you took a breath, and xiao had almost sworn you were bordering scared as you finished your question. “I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me for zhonglis class? I don’t know if you’d be able to, but I spoke to him earlier today, and he recommended asking you for help.”

and of course he had said yes, to your surprise. he remembers thinking, silently, that maybe the universe was rewarding him for being so patient, and he had to keep his cool the best he could.

now here he is, actually setting something up. “would tomorrow with you?”

"yes!," you let out a nervous little laugh at your uncontrollable excitement. xiao can just picture the smile you have on your face, all shy and awkward and cute. "that would work great, I think. I really wasn't expecting you to set something up so quickly. I'm grateful though."

xiao would make the tutoring session today during the dead of night if he could. of course he would set something up so quickly.

you don't need to know that, though.

xiao hums at your words. "we… we can have our first session at my place, if you're comfortable with that." he realizes he might be coming off too strong, so he adds, "but we can have it somewhere else too." he hopes you agree to the first suggestion though.

"t-that'd be great, yeah. whatever works for you, works for me."

"I'll text you the address and the time, then… and we can discuss more sessions or a schedule and stuff further.”

"that sounds good. thank you so much again." you repeat, and he can hear the relief in your voice. it should be him thanking you, really.

"of course. goodnight."

“goodnight!” you repeat before you both hang up. a wave of bliss strikes his body.

but he isn’t going to sleep, not yet, atleast. Instead, he’s going to stay up all night, right in front of his window, thinking of all the possible lives he’s about to live.

he’ll make sure to thank zhongli for that in the morning.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

[name]: I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now

[name]: my hands are shaking and everything

alatus: why? is something wrong?

[name]: you know how I told you how I wasn't doing the greatest in one of my courses?

alatus: of course. did something happen?

[name]: the most intimidating guy I've ever met in my life is my tutor now

[name]: and I have no idea how this first session is gonna go

alatus: I think you’ll be fine. you shouldn’t worry yourself

alatus: you should let me know how everything goes.

ーーー☆

xiao's home is, to put it simply, unique.

you were left awestruck as soon as you stepped into the small but gorgeous studio apartment, shocked by both the feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine and the thought of how someone could possibly afford such an apartment, especially as a college student. no matter how xiao manages to afford his place, though, his home daunts over you.

there's a large window that lines the wall his bed and desk are propped up against and you can't help but imagine just how xiao would look as he looked out of it and at the bustling city. the glass is frosted and wet from the pitter pattering rain that seems to persist in the cool weather of october. it's a little messy, books scattered about here and there and takeout bags littering the table, and the amount of lighting in this room seems to be as minimal (and as cold) as can be, but it's nothing too bad at all. nothing that you could complain about, at least.

there's so many things inside his house, so many things your eyes are drawn to, like his big bookcase and comfy bed and his expensive computer setup, and yet it feels so... lonely. devoid of life, even. maybe it's the look of the gloomy black walls and the fact that the only lighting xiao has is a tall floor lamp and the light that comes through his window, but you've never seen such a full home feel so empty. no plants except for one little succulent that's looking worse for wear, no photos of friends or family, no bright colors, no pets to breathe life into the place, no companion to help make this house a home. nothing.

you're suddenly grateful you have such a lively roommate.

it's been a few minutes since xiao had let you in, greeting you in his comfy hoodie and baggy pants, hair put up into a messy bun, before attending to something on his computer (an important email you think, or at least something along those likes, something urgent), telling you to sit wherever you'd like and that he'll be with you shortly. you had nodded while leaving your shoes at the door, asking him if his bed would be a seat he's okay with you being on, garnering a hum in response from him.

"...I'll sit here then, since it'll be close to you and stuff," you murmur, admittedly a bit more nervous and unconfident sounding than you'd like. you plop yourself onto xiao's bed, placing your bag at your feet in front of the bed for easy access. xiao takes what's meant to be a quick glance at you, but he's unable to look away.

he knows it's creepy to say, especially when you're just sitting down so innocently, but the sight is better than what he's fantasized about. he's thought of you so many times in his bed, cuddling with him and running your hands through his hair and letting him press kisses into your face and collar bones. he's thought about waking you up with breakfast and how you'd smile and thank him even if he can't cook very well, but he's willing to learn a couple recipes for you. he's thought about laying there with you after a long day, letting you ramble as he listened like he does as alatus. he's thought about how he'd great you once he comes home like you probably do with venti, watching your form as he wait on his bed for him.

and, most of all, he's thought about the way you'd cry and sob and call him a monster once the day that you find out that his bed is now yours and that this apartment is now your home, trapped forever with him, finally comes.

one day you'll be here permanently, he's sure of it. baby steps first, though.

xiao doesn't realize that in the midst of his thinking, he's been absolutely staring you down, and considering that xiao has a naturally viscous (bitchy) looking resting face, you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "xiao? I can... move, if you'd like."

"no, I just..." he clears his throat before looking back at the work in front of him. "sorry, I zoned out for a second. you can stay there if it feels comfortable. whatever you want." the words come out as a sort of awkward, almost inaudible mumble.

is this supposed to be as awkward and tense feeling as it is?

you nod at his words, albeit a little hesitant, further settling into the soft plush of his bed. your brain is still convinced that he might want you to move, but you decide to just stay where you are. you reach down from your seat, pulling out everything you would need from your bag, waiting patiently for any instructions. the soft clicking of xiao's keyboard and the sound of rain hitting against the window fill the otherwise silent room, and honestly, given the atmosphere and the way xiao's room is so dark and cozy and how warm and inviting his bed is, you're tempted to fall asleep.

xiao's presence, though nerve-wracking, makes you feel at home. it feels familiar. you wouldn't mind falling asleep near him again.

but today's (sadly) not the day for resting. xiao finishes whatever he's working on, closing out of the tab and turning his chair to face your spot on the bed. he brushes a piece of his hair back and out of the way, uncovering the eyebrow piercing the bothersome piece had previously hid. his eyes look dead, tired dark circles laying underneath, and yet he still forces himself to speak, like a zombie who simply refuses to just give up and die.

"did you have anything specific in mind that you want to go over?"

you take a second to think, humming in response. zhongli never truly specified what you needed to brush up upon, only that the last few assignments weren't up to his standards, whatever that means. "I don't know. maybe everything from the last few weeks? I'm not so sure."

he too lets out a soft little hum as he thinks for a moment. he's never tutored before, and he's pretty sure he doesn't even have the qualifications to actually be of any sort of help. he makes it up as he goes.

“on the back of your textbook, there's a study guide that covers all the chapters inside." he gently motions for you to give him the book sitting on your lap, flipping to the page before handing it back to you. "I want you to do the questions of the study guide that cover the chapters we've already read in class. then I'll... assess you from there, and we can come up with a plan.”

it seems like a lot of work, and that's because it is. the longer you spend here (the more he can milk this session for everything it's worth), the better.

you nod, moving to get to work immediately, putting your full effort into the task at hand. you both work silently, xiao clicking at his keys alongside the noise of you flipping through the pages of your textbook and jotting answers down. the noises compliment one another well, creating a lingering sense of peace and calm in the air. you find yourself getting stuck on one or two of the questions, but… surprisingly breezing through the rest, and after a while of working, you gently speak his name, alerting him that you've finished. he’s quick to take your work, starting his inspection of it.

your hands can’t help but get a little clammy as you watch as he reads through your answers, analyzing each and every single written word. in the meantime, you’re doing a little analysis of your own, trying to distract your mind from feeling any more nervous than you realistically should.

your eyes flick from his messy hair, to the beauty mark almost right in the middle of his forehead, then to the soft dusting of red eyeshadow under his eyes. you look at how he runs a finger against the words on the page, too, almost subconsciously, and though you can’t really tell from this angle what he’s doing, you think he’s more so tracing the letters you’ve written than using it as a means to follow along. he almost looks entranced. you don’t know what to expect from xiao, can’t even guess what he’s thinking, and the furrowed eyebrows on his face definitely don’t make you feel any better.

you sit there, idley, awkwardly, fidgeting for what seemed like more than just a few minutes, before xiao finally speaks up.

you can barely hear him as he speaks, his words hushed and muffled. "you... need a lot of brushing up on the content, and your answers… lack good explanations and reasoning." he hands you back your work, sending you an almost sympathetic look. "I can see why zhongli believes you need help,” he adds.

it's a lie, of course, but you don't need to know that, not when zhongli had so delicately laid down the groundwork for all of this to happen in the first place. most of your answers were just fine as is, at least from what he lightly skimmed through.

still, he can't help but feel guilty when that look of embarrassment washes over your face.

for some reason you feel yourself get overwhelmed with emotion. you thought that maybe, just maybe, zhongli was simply just messing with you, as was notorious with the man and his teaching methods. but there's a stark sense of embarrassment that comes from xiao reaffirming what zhongli had said, an embarrassment so strong it sends your entire body ablaze with heat.

you can't help but awkwardly shift in your seat as you nod along to his words despite the way your head almost feels too heavy to lift, avoiding eye contact lest he sees you so embarrassed over something so... silly, a miniscule problem at best, something fixable with a bit of elbow grease and time, and yet it means way more than it should to you.

you've worked so hard in this class already. why aren't you improving?

he doesn’t let you really catch your breath before he speaks again. "I think we'll need a couple more sessions than we discussed earlier," he mumbles, again, as though too ashamed to speak up, flipping through his own textbook, face in his hand as he thinks. "I want to make sure we can get as much content covered as possible before the end of the semester and catch you back up, since you seem to be..." xiao takes a quick glance at you, and for a moment, just a split second, he sees you, sees inside of you, sees every little thing you've been keeping bottled up, your fear. he looks away, breath hitching out of complete and utter guilt. he forces himself to continue though.

"...behind," he finishes, the single word said notably softer than the rest of the sentence.

xiao forces himself to swallow down his guilt. truly, he feels terrible about lying about this, because you clearly seem to be doing just fine on you own and lord knows how much stress this entire ordeal is causing you, but what's the use of being presented and blessed by the gods themselves with such an amazing opportunity if his sinning hands can't take it out of greed? xiao hates it, but he's always been more of a taker than a giver, taking all he can from people and leaving nothing left of them.

the simple pure utter bliss at the thought of spending hours and hours with you, in his room, alone, intimately and in person instead of just being with you through a phone screen, extinguishes any guilt he could possibly feel.

you, on the other hand, do allow yourself to feel guilt, though it's a feeling that has much more innocent roots than what xiao feels. it's a feeling that pokes and stabs at you as you fumble for words to say. you're a much better person than xiao is in that regard. you can't help but to feel ashamed, ashamed that you were doing so terrible at a course that goes directly into your major that you would have to force xiaoー a man renowned for being a lonerー who surely would rather spend his free time by himself and not tutoring someone so out of your realm and element as you are.

maybe it's not too late after all to consider switching majors, you think.

"you seriously don't have to do that, I don't want to take more time from you than I'm already taking. honestly, I think I'm a bit of a lost cause at this point if I can't even do the simpler questions."

the truth is, not even xiao knows how scared you are. fear and dread soars through your body at the thought of ending up in the same spot you were in last year.

xiao lets out a sigh through his nose at your words, a noise that does nothing other than make you feel worse, especially when you can't read his emotions and tell what's going on in that labyrinth of a brain he has. maybe he's realized that you're not worth spending his time. maybe you really are a loss cause. maybe you really should change your major. maybe you should call it quits and drop out. maybe you should move countries, marry a rich doctor or a lawyer and spend the rest of your days as a glorified housespー

xiao doesn't let you finish your thoughts (plans), instead getting up from his chair slowly. "let's take a break." he says, and while you feel a break is a little undeserved after you haven't done much studying, you nod, thinking it might be best to just relax before jumping back into things. "taking things slowly is the better way to do things," you nod, although the words just barely register themselves in your head. you're surprisingly vulnerable with him.

"I'm... going to step out for a moment to get some air. I'll give you some time for yourself to think." you nod, giving him a small and meek thank you, genuinely so utterly grateful for all the time xiao has given you. you can't help yourself from bothering him just once more before he leaves, though.

"xiao?" you don't look up at him, eyes fixated on your answers and what must've been so wrong with them. you hear him hum, beckoning you to continue.

“do you think I'll be able to pass?”

"of course you will," he answers, and it's the first truth he's said all day.

"of course," he mumbles, this time lower, a reminder to himself of how you'd be completely fine on your own, and that he should never, ever take this opportunity for granted.

he makes a promise to himself that he won't.

----- NEW TEXT MESSAGE -----☆

zhongli: hello, [name]. xiao informed me earlier today that you two will be conducting your first study session today. I'm glad you spoke to him about tutoring like I had advised you to. how are things going?

[name]: it's going fine, he mostly just reaffirmed what you already told me though. but he's been really kind about it all, I'm grateful that he agreed to help me out.

zhongli: I see. I hope that he could give you a new perspective on things and aid you in your weak spots. xiao is an amazing student in his own right, and I'm sure that together, you two will make an amazing team. I'm glad you two are getting along.

zhongli: I'd like to give you a little heads up for a future assignment, but there will be a project upcoming where I'll be sure to partner you two up. I'm sure you two will impress me on what you come up with.

zhongli: I believe in you, [name], and I expect good things coming forward.

zhongli: I'm sure that xiao is grateful as well.

[name]: thank you.

[name]: I hope to meet your standards as best as I can.

-----☆

the apartment is even quieter than it was before without xiao.

it's lonely, too.

in a way, you used this little moment to yourself as a justification and way to figure out just what exactly is the enigma that is xiao. now that you're by yourself, you find yourself looking around at his walls, glancing over at one of the two of his cork boards that seems to have a bunch of what looks to be memorabilia of all sorts, stuff like old music concert tickets of local bands you've never heard of, polaroids with some familiar places and even some of his friends, post-it note scribbles of different tasks he has to get done, among other things.

you visualize yourself looking at the corkboard as though it's those ones in those crime movies, where you're using red yarn to connect the pieces of a story together, figuring out with all the clues you have at your disposal who xiao is.

there's other things, too. posters lining the wall and a singular cat shaped plushie on his bed, a wilted bouquet of flowers in a vase on his kitchen countertop meant for decoration, various little knick knacks on his desk, but the part of his room that catches your eye most, though, is his large, expansive bookshelf filled (a little messily) with a variety of different things, almost all of it stuff you actually recognize.

you’re halfway through looking around before you hear the door open back up again. you instinctually freeze, as of you’re a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. you shift your head, locking eyes with him as he steps back inside. to your surprise, he doesn’t look upset, not even annoyed, just intrigued as he watches you awkwardly shuffle away a little from the bookshelves.

you try to apologize with hast. “sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I swear, I was just–“

xiaos quick to interject as he walks right past you over to sit, this time on his bed instead of at his desk. “it’s fine. I don’t mind. you don’t have to apologize.” he crosses his arms once he’s situated in his seat. “do whatever you’d like.” he adds in an attempt to comfort you.

it sounds sarcastic, but you somehow can tell that it’s not. you nod, taking it as (hoping that it’s) permission to keep going. your eyes move over to the other corkboard near the bookshelves, hoping that you’re not stepping over any boundaries by doing so. this board is filled more with many different photos pinned up onto it. there’s all sorts of sites and places, things like concerts or shops or restaurants or nature– the list goes on– with a rare one or two photos with him actually in it. even rarer seemed to be other people that didn’t look like strangers in the background.

you subconsciously speak a thought aloud. “you seem to go out a lot. to really cool places, too.”

the only thing he really says in response is, “all of those aren’t recent.”

you hum in response, eyebrows furrowing a little as you nod in understanding. “oh, I see.” xiao takes it as an opportunity to ask you something even though he knows the answer already. “what about you? do you go out a lot?”

the question takes you a little aback. “I haven’t gotten out a lot recently either.” you try to think about all you’ve done recently, before realizing there’s nothing much to think about at all. you add, in truth, “…you’re honestly the first person I’ve spent time with in a while that wasn’t my roommate, but I don’t think that really counts.”

he cocks his head to the side at that answer, golden eyes staring at you (almost straight through your soul), intrigued. “why haven’t you spent time with anyone else?

a soft pang hits your heart as you think about the reason. the breakup. despite how much time has gone by, you’re still tender about the topic, and would rather not think about everything it’s caused as a result. would rather not think about him, either.

you let out a nervous laugh. “that’s a long story, I guess.”

xiao seems dissatisfied with that answer. he’s never responded so quickly, without hesitating before.

“I have time.”

you send a look of slight confusion his way. “I thought we were going to study some more today?”

“right…” xiao let’s a lot of dead air slip in whenever he speaks, pausing and hanging onto words as if he’s doing mental calculations to figure out what the right thing to say next. “…in the future, then.”

you nod as your eye continues it’s adventure through the board before another photo catches your attention fully. it’s a pretty photo of a bunch of people standing near the docks, holding up and letting go of lanterns. it looks like, judging from the date scribbled on the bottom of the photo and the contents of the photo itself, the annual lantern rite from a few years back. you remember that day, almost vividly, too. that was your first year at the school. you and venti had gone together that year. it was magical. it seems like xiao really was never too far from you. seriously, you’re surprised you two haven’t talked sooner.

you can’t help but smile as you reminisce on that day. “I remember this exact lantern rite. there was so many people, and the lanterns were so beautiful. they always are.”

you turn around to face him, again. “how long has it been since you’ve gone to the harbor? if I lived as close as you do, I think I’d go to the harbor whenever I have time.”

it takes awhile for xiao to respond, not because he’s thinking of an answer, but because he’s transfixed on your expression right now. you seem so happy that it naturally just pulls on his heart strings. he’s glad you still remember that particular lantern rite, even though he knows you’ve gone to more since then. xiao remembers that day visibly too, but probably (definitely) not for the same you do. he wonders if you remember that part of it deep inside.

“um… since the day of that photo, probably.”

you’re a little taken aback from that answer. xiao lives on the outskirts of the harbor. how could he have not gone back in years? everything you learn about xiao makes you more and more curious as to who he is. “really?” you can’t help but ask. he can’t help but shrug.

you speak without even thinking twice once more. “would you want to go again sometime then?” your eyes dart away from his face. you can’t help but look away before you finish the question, unable to look him in the eye as you clarify, “with me, I mean.” you stumble out the words more confidently than you exprcted.

he lets out a sigh. “there’s nothing I want from there…” it’s the truth. he hasn’t been very fond of the harbor for what has felt like centuries, especially not the memories he’s tethered to. he can’t help but to regret the accidental roughness of his words, though, when he looks up to see a flash of embarrassment paint across your face. it feels like he picked the wrong answer, but he wants to say the right one, desperately. xiao has never been great at talking, but he’s trying, for you. “but if you’d like… I’d like to go with you.”

you try to hide the way your heart picks up the pace a little at his words. “let’s go soon, then. I can tell you about myself, and you can tell me about you, too.”

he nods, and for a split second you think you’ve gone insane, because you swear, swear, that for a few seconds, the corner of xiao’s lips curve softly into a smile. a smile! smiling at the thought of you two ‘hanging out’ in the future! for all the times you’ve seen xiao, you can maybe only count on one hand how many times you’ve seen him smile.

“you want to learn about me?” he asks, earnestly, shocked, and it definitely wasn’t a question you were expecting.

“yeah, I mean I've always seen you around. I think we've even been in the same classes before this year, too, and now I’m getting tutored by you and I still know pretty much nothing about you.” you pause before adding on, “I’d love to learn more. I hope that’s not weird, or anything.”

he shakes his head, the ghost of a smile still etched onto his lips. and if you looked closely (which luckily for him, you weren’t), you’d see the faint dust of blush decorating his cheeks, too. “I don’t have much to tell you, but… that sounds good.”

he feels embarrassed at the fact he can’t control how warm his cheeks feel and how he can’t help but crack a smile at you. he clears his throat, trying to reset himself, suddenly ready to move on, going back to his desk.

“let’s keep working, I want to make the most out of the time we have together.” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. you mentally brace yourself for another study session with him.

it’s gonna be a long night.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

ven: where have you been?

ven: haven’t seen you all day……….. ):

ven: my flower, the house is so empty without you……….. ))):

ven: are you with somebody? you never tell me these things anymore.

ven: talk to me soon, please.

ーーー ☆

it's late into the night when you're awakened rudely with a few desperate knocks against your bedroom door.

you can't help but groan as you stir awake, upset to be forced out of your dream state, although that irritation is soon replaced with guilt once you realize just why you were being awakened with such urgency in the first place. after whining out a loud, 'come in,' you peak your eyes open to see your best friend standing in your doorway, tears staining his face so much that they're visible even in the darkness.

shit. it's been so long since you've seen venti like this. you thought all of that was over ages ago.

"can I sleep with you tonight?" his voice is shakey yet gentle, filled with fear and something that you can only label as... need, as if he needs you more than he ever has. just his voice alone, paired with the way he looks so in the doorway while he's shivering and fiddling with his pajamas, hair looking almost as distraught as he's feeling, is enough to have you too stunned to speak.

"please?" he adds on when you don't reply immediately.

you nod, scooting over to make room for him as he slowly trudges to your bed like he's done many times before. he's quick to settle in under the covers with you, laying against the plush pillow underneath him. you move closer to him as though it's instinct, an action done out of retained muscle memory from the many nights you've spent doing this exact thing. your eyes, though half lidded and heavy, trace over his face over and over again, noting how his eyes look back at you and you can't help but think that venti is such an expressive person. even if he's so silent right now, his eyes are cloudy and storming, speaking a thousand words with the thunder that rings out within them.

he looks like he's trying to think of what to say, but he doesn't need to say a single thing. you already know why he's here.

his face is contorted in a way that almost showcases utter agony, and it hurts, hurts to see your best friend suffering, especially when the best you can do is guide your hand softly against the smooth the skin of his cheek and brushing away any tears in pity. if nothing else, you truly do hope that, at the very least, your presence can help.

“do you maybe want to talk about it?” you run your hand through his soft, pretty dyed blue locks that seem to almost glow in the moonlight, feeling the light moisture of his skin from his sweat. you’ve forgotten just how easy it always has been to brush your hand through his locks. your voice is gentle and low as if not to startle him, as if not to shatter him more than he already is. “you know you don’t have to, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”

“no, it’s okay... I just want to be with you right now.” his voice is meek as he chooses his words carefully as though they're meticulously chosen to pull at your heartstrings (they do), and he sounds like he’s on the brink of tears once more.

“is it the same dream as before?” you ask, remembering how many nights you've spent with venti just like this when he began getting frequent ‘nightmares’ awhile back, nightmares that till this day you don't know the contents of.

he nods, although hesitantly, as though it’s some sort of secret. and in a way, it is.

he could never, ever, ever tell you that you’re the cause of all of his nightmares after all.

“are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? you look really upset. you've never told me what makes you like this.”

“no, I just want to… I just want to stay like this for a while.”

“okay, ven,” you whisper, soft and quiet, as if your voice could shatter him whole. you pause, thinking of what to say, before you decide that you won’t prode any further, instead bidding him a goodnight. “I love you, venti. get some rest.”

for the first time in maybe months, venti doesn’t tell you he loves you back.

instead he burrows himself as deep as humanly possible, as if being torn away from you would kill him, just like the way his dreams pulled and tugged ruthlessly at his heart strings, shoving images of you with your new 'tutor' down his throat, like they had with him months and months ago.

how cruel is it that he's forced to see you being ripped away from him both in real life and in his dreams?

-----☆

you're half asleep when you feel him mumble into your skin.

"I miss you. I miss this." he whispers, but you can barely hear him. he misses the way you feel, how comforting you smell, how his hands connect with your body like they're puzzle pieces. he misses having all your attention on him like this, so quick to coo and ask if he's okay. everything’s changed from how it used to be.

"what?"

you feel venti's hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your back as he slowly trails his hands up and down, basking in the way that you feel. "I miss you, cecilia. especially today." his voice isn't shakey anymore. instead it's much more fluid, as though he never had the night terrors that brought him into your room to begin with. you can't help but frown at his words even in your sleepy state.

"venti..." you mumble out, feeling his hands start to dig themselves into your skin. his grip on your waist is tightー not enough for it to hurt, but just enough that it keeps you from pushing him away if you really wanted to, trapping and suffocating you, bordering the lines of sucking the air out of your lungs.

part of you wishes he wouldn't keep things so bottled up from you, because clearly, your constant 'absence' in his life is hurting him more than you'll ever be able to understand, but the more selfish part of you is shamefully grateful that he is. you love venti, but for a man who constantly champions for freedom, he's always been so dead set on taking away yours.

you know deep down that if you gave venti an inch, he'd take a mile, and you don't have many miles left to give. you could spend twenty-four hours of a day with venti and he would still want you to somehow spend twenty-five on him. as much as you love ventiー truly, you love him more than anything else in the worldー, you know it'd be better if you didn't indulge him as much as you want him to. lord knows how quick venti would be to turn you into a hollow, empty shell of yourself by taking every second you have all for himself if he could.

besides, this whole thing will blow over eventually after the party, right?

right?

"I know that I've already whined and complained about it, but god, I miss you. you were gone for so long today with someone I don't even know… seeing you occasionally here and there isn't enough for me. I..." venti somehow manages to pull his body even closer to you, your chest and his chest plush against each other, so close that you can feel the way it rises as he breathes slowly. "I know I'm selfish, but I need you."

he says the word 'need' as if he'd die without you.

you don't think this is a conversation you two should be having when you're so... out of it, exhausted.

"venti, can we talk about this in the morning?"

his grip slowly loosens. "...okay." he says the word slowly and hesitantly, as if he's a child saying a cuss word for the first time, as if agreeing to put his feelings aside until you're in a much more lucid and conscious state is a sin. "I'm... I'm sorry for bothering you and being so clingy and... I just..." venti swallows thickly. "goodnight," venti mumbles, choosing not to finish his thought.

your eyebrows furrow, something about this whole conversation feeling off to you. never in a million years would venti have been so... upfront, apart from the day he invited you to the party. it's like venti's slowly unraveling like a string, just one little tug away from snapping.

it wouldn't be the first time venti's snapped on you though. you need to mend things and shut off the ticking time bomb before things blow up in your face again, like when you...

like when you...

ugh. you'll think about all of this later when you're actually well-rested and capable of forming cohesive thoughts. you softly mumble out a goodnight to venti as well, praying that the storm will blow off soon enough.

it doesn't, though. the winds only get stronger and louder.

ーーー☆

venti wasn't in your room by the time you woke up. infact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. not in his room, not in the kitchen or in the bathroom getting ready, nowhere. he didn't even leave a text telling you where he went.

you guess that venti needs time to think after last night, and you decide that it's probably for the best.

you'll see him again later anyways.

ーーー☆

it's cold out today, october's chill punishing you for wearing too light of a sweater for the weather, but the freezing temperature of the classroom during today's lecture isn't the cause of the way you squirm in your seat out of discomfort. no, you have professor zhongli to take credit for that.

you're convinced that zhongli gets a kick out of giving you borderline heart attacks.

honestly, that isn't exactly far from the truth. there's something about the way your eyes flicker in complete, utter fear just by him saying, "[name], may you please see me after class? there's something I'd like to discuss with you," that sends shivers down his spine, as egregious as that may sound. it's a shameful feeling for a professor to have, but at least he has much more innocent intentions this time as opposed to the last time he's asked you to stay behind.

the request was given to you right at the start of class (which you were actually on time to, thank god) before he began with his lecture. and once again, you couldn't help but think about just what exactly zhongli wanted to discuss with you throughout the entire lecture, almost too busy coming up with theories to focus. all you can think is, did you do something wrong again? was the assignment you turned in last night bad? all that studying you did with xiao couldn’t have been for nothing, right? you're going to fail the semester at this rate.

you wish zhongli was more dead set on helping you pass like last year than assuring that you failed.

you can’t help but call back to that time. you had been much worse off back then. you were visibly behind everyone else, but it hadn't started that way. so much was happening back then. and that breakup, oh that fucking break up, really made focusing on your school work beyond difficult. you truly did put up a fight, tried to make sure you stayed afloat, and it did work at first. but your responsibilities drowned you completely, and you never really learned how to swim.

it was a rough semester, and one of your classes had been taught by the very same man taking great pleasure in ruining you today. your one saving grace? once again, the very same man, who had seemed to take enough pity onto you that he took matters into his own hands to make sure you did well.

you stood out back then, not because you shone bright, but because you didn't shine at all.

zhongli wanted to light that fire back in you that you had at the start of the year. and he had.

zhongli had took you under his wing, struck you with passion and drive, made you fall in love all over again with the topic you were studying through his ramblings and stories and sheer utter knowledge; he revitalized you, filled a hole. he had kept you after class and in his office on weekends, making time to make sure that you succeeded and through his gentle nurturing that was the hot to his own cold. you had succeeded, to your surprise. and he had looked after you ever since.

it was silly for you to believe that he would grace you with the same mercy this course.

but things are different now. so much more different. you were grateful back then for him striving to push you to do better, but now it's overwhelming. back then, his standards were achievableー finish your assignments on time as often as you could, study a little when you can, at least attempt to attend every class you had. it was doable. but now, now you're almost convinced he wants you to become borderline perfectー no, perfect is an understatement. he wants you to be better than perfect.

perfect, and vulnerable.

back then it felt as though he was trying to help you but now, the back of your mind can't help but tell you that he's always been helping himself, benefiting himself, not you.

it was at the start of this school year that you let yourself fall right into the dragon's lair.

either way, maybe it's the fact that your mind was so occupied, or maybe time simply just decided to speed up, but the class flew by in no time. you had practically tuned out all of zhongli's ramblings and teachings today. you watched zhongli dismiss the class, staying seated despite the way everyone else shuffled out of the door as quickly as possible. once again, it was just you and zhongli in the empty room.

fuck.

zhongli walks to the front of your desk, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long sigh, and you never knew how such a little harmless action could strike so much fear into your heart. could you just combust already? you're not at all ready for whatever zhongli has to say.

"what a long class we had today, hm? I hope I didn't bore you too much. you looked particularly distracted." zhongli says, smiling gently at you as he attempts to brighten the gloomy mood you're clearly in. "luckily, though, I've been excited to talk to you all class. you truly were my saving grace today."

is this some kind of sick joke? you were kidding when you thought zhongli must get pleasure out of your failure, but you might actually be right.

gross.

"don't worry, though, I didn't keep you after class just to complain. I'll get to the point, since I know you hate pointless chatter."

"I know it's far too early to say this, but I'm proud of you, [name]."

that caring nature still shines through, the strict professor he's supposed to be eroded and washed away by time itself.

your eyebrows furrow. "what?" you can’t help but let the word slip out of your mouth in the midst of your confusion.

"the assignment you gave in last night, truly one of your best works this semester. you never fail to amaze me with how fast you manage to make a turnaround when you put your mind to it, [name]."

the assignment? the one you worked on last night at the last second despite having over a week to do it after studying with xiao that you had to keep your eyes pried open to complete? the one xiao had borderline picked apart a dozen times as though trying to break you down even more? that assignment?

what?

"but I... what? if it was any good, it's likely only because xiao was there to help me." you mumble, unsure of your words.

"so? are you really diminishing your accomplishments just because you got a little aid?" zhongli plants a hand on your cheek like he has a dozen times in the past before guiding your face to look up at him. "or are you trying to say that it was xiao who had done your assignment, not you?"

"o-of course he didn't, but-" zhongli is quick to shush you, pressing a gloved thumb against your lips with a soft smile.

"shh. you did well, and that's final. I hope this pattern continues. you know I want nothing but the best for you after seeing what you can achieve." his gloved hand caresses your cheek and you're convinced he can feel the heat your face is producing out of embarrassment even through the layer of fabric. "my little star, you're doing well again." he adds quietly, so quietly that you can just barely make it out, though the nickname is far less shocking than the praise that your brain is still trying to make sense of.

"before I let you go, I just wanted to reiterate that should you ever need my assistance with anythingー and I mean anything at all, whether it's related to your academics or notー know that I am and always will be here."

"I... thank you." it's the only words you can come up with as zhongli leaves you alone with your thoughts. "thank you," you repeat, speaking the words much more quietly. in a hushed whisper.

in the back of your mind, you realize that you should be thinking about how odd it is for zhongli to suddenly be so sugary sweet, how he's touched you so much more intimately than a professor should, how his little nickname for you is weird at best, and yet all you can think about is how he's proud of you.

for some reason, that's all that really matters to you in the moment. you can think about... all that other stuff, later.

ーーー☆

it's almost pitch dark out by the time you finally get home.

"I'm home!" you shout out as soon as you step through the front door, voice a little breathy after having to climb up a few flights of stairs to get up to your apartment, alerting venti that you've arrived in a way akin to how married couples do. you're quick to lock the door behind you, stripping yourself of your shoes that feel more like weights before placing them in the shoe rack near the door and putting your heavy bag down next to venti's violin case, deciding you'll bother with getting whatever you need out of there when you feel like it. you wince a little at the cold tiles of the floor underneath your feet.

maybe one day you'll move into a place with an actual heater, you think.

"I'll be there in just a second!" venti's voice rings out from what you assume is the bathroom down the hall, likely showering given the pitter-pattering sound of running water. you nod, as though responding to him despite the fact he can't see you, flicking on the light switch to the kitchen as you do so. the kitchen table immediately grabs your attention with how different it looks compared to how you left it this morning. two orange pumpkins sit at the center, and alongside it lays an unopened package of carving tools and another package of tea lights, a brown bag filled with what looks to be some house decor and knick knacks (venti truly does love trying to make your run-down apartment as much of a true home as possible), and a bag of groceries yet to be put away.

you sit down at the medium sized wooden table, allowing yourself to rest and bask in the day as you look through everything infront of you. it's been awhile since you've just sat in silence and thought, and even longer since you let yourself really live in this home without just heading straight to your room. your nails drill against the table, pushing one of the two pumpkins closer to you with a soft hum. you trace a finger against it, imaginging what'd you want to carve on it and how it'd glow after you put a candle inside.

this year you should do something new, get a little more fancier with the design that you have in the previous years that you craved a pumpkin. maybe you and venti will carve matching jack-o-laterns this year. you can't help but smile at the thought.

"they're cute, aren't they?"

you tense up when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you instantly relax when you turn your head to see venti. you guess you were so lost in thought you hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom. you drink in his presence, giving him a glance over out of instinct. the smell of his apple-cinnamon bodywash assault your senses in an oddly comforting way, a scent that makes you feel right at home. he's in a pair pajamas and cute bunny slippers, and his hair is clipped up in a pretty half up, half down ponytail. the blue dyed tips of his hair are losing their signature color (which is odd, considering that despite his inherit laziness, venti's always been one to make sure those tips stay bright blue at all costs) and his skin looks a little damp.

a gummy smile paints his face, and he has a bit of a playful glint in his eye, but he looks notably tired, and a sense of worry pings at your heart at the sight. you were the roommate notorious for having bags under your eyes afterall, not him, so to see him look so exhausted, especially when venti's always been one for getting his 'beauty sleep,' tells you that venti internally isn't feeling his best. it sounds shallow, judging someone's mental health based on their appearance, but you know venti like the back of your hand, and you know that something's wrong.

even moreso, you know exactly what that wrong thing is, given last night's conversation.

"I got them at the grocery store today. thought it might be fun to carve them together before they go bad. that is, if you want to grace me with your undivided time and attention, of course." venti pretends he's joking, but you know deep down he means the sentiment of wanting you to give him your time for once, and you honestly feel awful at his words. nonetheless, you suck it up, smiling up at him. it's a genuine smile.

"why wouldn't I? it is tradition after all. I'm going to make mine extra scary this year."

venti laughs at your words, his heart internally flutter at the thought of how determined your face would look as you try to create the spookiest jack-o-latern he's ever seen. he leans down, pressing a soft, platonic peck to your forehead, finally giving you a welcome home.

"you're home later than usual again, everything go okay?"

you can't help but notice that venti is acting as if he had never said what he said last night, though the air between you is still awkward and tense, and his face does little to hide the fact that deep down, he's still quelling on the things he spoke about. nonetheless, you decide that that conversation is to be had when venti wants it to happen, knowing full well from years of being his best friend that venti prefers keeping a lighter mood at all costs, so you leave things at that until he's ready to speak about it again.

"yeah, I just thought that I'd try to get some work done while I could at campus," you answer, watching as he nods slowly at your words. you can tell he's fighting back the urge to interrogate you, to ask you if you were with anybody and if you really needed to stay at campus, and anything else he can use as a way to rationalize the fact that he's so clingy. he looks around the room, thinking about what else he could say to make sure the conversation doesn't end prematurely.

"oh! I ordered some takeout a bit before you came home. it's still hot, if you want to eat."

you nod, thanking him, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to figure out just how exactly he can stay with you longer without him bringing up anything you two talked about last night. he stands there, presence lingering as though he has something to say, and yet he chooses not to say whatever's on his mind, instead preferring to pick up the unopened bottle of dandelion wine on the nearby kitchen counter.

"you seem all set. I'll get going now, then. I have an urgent date with a bottle of wine that I can't miss for the world." venti moves quickly to leave as though trying to make sure you don't see through to him, turning his back to you without another word, but he doesn't get too far before he's freezing up at your words.

"you're not gonna stay and chat?" you say instinctively, a little surprised by the fact he was so quick to come and go today. you don't know what it is about today, but the thought of venti forcing himself to go when he clearly doesn't want to pains you. maybe it was last night's conversation, or maybe it's how venti radiates warmth that fights against the biting cold that nips at your skin, or maybe you just miss venti, but you want him here with you.

venti turns around slowly, his voice low as he speaks. "oh..." he starts off, "I thought you would've wanted to eat alone like all the other nights," you almost let out a wince at his words. how long has it really been since you last simply hung out with venti? "do you... want me to stay?" you let out a gentle hum.

"I want you here tonight. I want to talk to you."

"about what?"

you think about everything you'd want to tell venti, and you realize that that's exactly it; you want to tell him everything and anything you can. you want to tell him about your new tutor who turned out to be a lot less scary than you were expecting him to be, or that new coffee shop a friend had told you about that opened up near by that you'd love to tell him about, or how zhongli was actually kind to you today. but you also want venti to tell you everything too, about any escapades he's had recently while drunk or new songs he's written, or even how his classes are going and if he's thinking of going to any other parties soon.

you realize that, as much as you'd hate to admit it to yourself, you miss just being with venti a lot too.

"everything," you finally reply after thinking, grinning up at his hesitant form.

"everything? really? this isn't a ploy to tell me horrific news or to try to get out of going to that party, is it?"

"no, I promise. I'm honestly a bit offended you'd think I'd ever be so cruel as to try to get out of going to such an amazing party," you joke.

venti playfully rolls his eyes at your words, but he can't help the smile that creeps up his face. his smile is bright like a star, warm enough for a planet to survive off of, eyelids crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he puts the bottle in his hand down befofe he pulls up one of the kitchen chairs, the legs screeching against the floor so that he's sitting infront of you. he leans in close to you as though you were about to tell him the greatest story known to man. you can't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. venti's smile, his real and genuine smile, gives you a feeling like no other. it makes you feel whole, like none of your problems neither exist nor matter and that everything in this world is perfect.

"okay then, dove, tell me everything."

ーーー NEW TEXT MESSAGE ーーー☆

alatus: can you believe it's almost sunday already?

[name]: holy shit, time is going by so fast

[name]: I'm so excited to meet you in person

alatus: I'm excited too.

[name]: I can't believe I've known you for over a year and I'm only going to get to see your face now

[name]: I swear, if you're just some creep...

alatus: I promise I'm not.

alatus: well, maybe.

[name]: ha ha, very funny.

[name]: but seriously, it honestly feels like I've known you for forever.

alatus: maybe you have and you just never noticed

#tw stalking #tw age gap #tw possession #tw student teacher relationship #tw yandere #tw manipulation #yandere xiao x reader #yandere venti x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere Genshin impact x reader

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