#like it was 20 minutes before class started i guess

[avocado-frog]

So like. I'm reading school bus graveyard again and. are we like SURE that Ashlyn's dad got taken too? In episode 62 Taylor says that they're only going to the school to ask about the keys and her dad mentioned getting breakfast afterwards so they weren't going to school all day that day. so then why would he drive all the way home if he was just going to pick the kids up like ten minutes later. and in the next couple ones it doesn't look like he's in the house with the other adults. on the other hand. when aiden noticed that their parents were in the facility too i think he would've mentioned not seeing ashlyn's dad

[mars-ipan]

you guys have no idea the amt of self control i have exhibited this morning

[plomegranate]

i love palestinian and arab culture so much.

my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.

my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".

the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.

the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".

kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something

palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bros, Bros, and more Bros

I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...

"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"

My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!

"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.

"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."

I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.

"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."

"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."

The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.

The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.

With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.

"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"

My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.

"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."

"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."

"I'm good. I really just-"

"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"

The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.

"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."

"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"

My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!

"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."

"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."

"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."

"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.

I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?

"Dude! Long time, no see!"

In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.

"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.

"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"

"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"

My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!

"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.

"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.

"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"

The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!

"Who's this guy?"

My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.

"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.

"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"

"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."

My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.

"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.

"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-

"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"

"Yes, coach!"

The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.

"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.

"Yes, coach!" they shout back.

"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.

"No, coach!"

"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"

"Yes, coach!"

The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"

I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.

After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.

At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.

The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.

Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.

"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"

The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.

"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.

"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"

"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!

Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.

He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"

"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.

"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"

"Ok, what should I call you?"

"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."

I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.

"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.

He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"

The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.

"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.

"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."

"Anything for you, bro."

"Looks like someone got lucky!"

"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"

"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.

"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"

"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."

The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.

"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.

"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.

I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?

It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.

With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[lovelyhan]

— 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!

[sweetbans29]

Mic'd - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You forget that your are mic'd up during practice (based on THIS request)

Warnings: ADHD reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Please don't scold me if I didn't get everything right. I tried my best, I promise.

Your mind never stops going a mile a minute. You were diagnosed with ADHD when you were a kid, it was something that your parents had to adapt to when it came to raising you. It was when you were in 4th grade when they decided to put you into sports. You started as a swimmer but your parents soon realized you were much better on land. That is when they put you in basketball and it just clicked for you. When you picked up a ball and began shooting, everything else began to make sense. It did a really good job of keeping your mind and hands busy on a singular objective.

You were put on a club and travel team when you went into middle school and continued playing through high school. It opened many doors for you including playing basketball in college. You toured a handful of schools and finally settled on Iowa.

Your freshman year was a huge adjustment as it was the first time living away from home. It took some major adjustments but you ultimately got there. The change to college classes was one of the hardest changes you faced. You were always struggling to keep your mind focused on one assignment when you had like 20 others to do at all times. It often resulted in you starting one, picking up another, and then trying to start a third before either of the first two were completed.

One of the girls on your team became your saving grace and one of your best friends. Kate had become someone who helped keep you grounded when the world was spinning and you could not be more grateful. Your friendship with her has helped you navigate the transition into college classes and playing college ball. She was always one to help keep you on task. The two of you have come up with a system to keep your mind focused when it feels like you aren't moving fast enough or don't feel like you have the control your mind needs.

Kate is also the one who was secretly working on getting you and Caitlin together. She noticed how both you and Caitlin would act around each other and took it upon herself to see two of her best friends and teammates come together in what she believed to be a perfect match. One thing led to another and you and Caitlin had begun dating towards the end of freshman year.

When the two of you got together - you decided it to keep it between the team. It wasn't that either of you was necessarily hiding your relationship, you were just both content with the world not knowing. You told the people that mattered in your lives and that was enough for the two of you. Also, nobody questioned it considering how much time the team spent together and how much time the two of you spent with Kate. To anyone looking in, the three of you were like three peas in a pod.

That leads us to today. The media team was doing a series where they were joining different sports practices and putting mics on some of the players. You had watched the series and thought seeing some of the school's all-star players behind the scenes was so fun. You were honored when they came up to you and asked if you would be the mic'd up player of the week.

They get you all set up and you are ready to go.

"Testing, testing," you say holding the mic that was pinned in your shirt up to your mouth. You then look at the camera. "We are here live from Carver-Hawkeye arena with yours truly."

You point to your number on your practice jersey and head into a huddle with the team to kick off practice.

While you are in the huddle you nudge Kate.

"Yo Kate, guess who is mic'd up for today's practice," you ask her and give the camera a knowing look. She laughs.

"Bro, I helped you put the mic on." She says and you let out an 'oh ya'.

"Do you have anything to say to the Hawkeye fans who are watching this?" You ask, pulling your shirt to catch what she is saying.

"You are too much," she begins and you hit her arm. "I would say sorry you have to listen to this one for the whole practice." She says and runs away to begin a drill.

You feign hurt and hold your hand over your heart as if what Kate just said broke you. Not two seconds later you are bouncing over to Caitlin and putting your arm around her waist.

"You ready to crush this practice babe?" You ask as she is finishing up stretching. Before she can answer you continue, "Your legs are looking extra nice today. I likey." She just laughs.

"If I just lift this a little," you say lifting the bottom part of her shorts to reveal her thigh a little more. "The team would see those little love bites you like so much." Caitlin slaps your hand and yells your name. You laugh and let her go, going to start a drill.

During the drill, you keep making comments about how fast you are and how no one can catch you.

"Speed." You say with laser focus as you are the next one to jump in the rotation. "I am speed."

Every time Caitlin does a good job you are caught yelling something along the lines of 'that a way babe' or 'that's my girl'.

During practice, Kate kept giving you weird looks but you think nothing of it.

During one of the water breaks, you walk up to Caitlin who is sipping her water. You lean against the wall.

"So, you come here often?" You ask in a flirtatious tone.

She pushes your chest and rolls her eyes. You come up behind her, wrapping your arms around her, and spin her around.

"You love me," you say as you put her down.

"You know I do," she says, kissing your forehead.

The rest of the practice is filled with little comments to your girl on how good she looks and how great of a job she is doing.

"Have you seen those edits that people are making of pigeons?” You ask one of your other teammates.

"What are you talking about?" they say back with a laugh.

"You know the ones where they draw like stick figure arms on them while they are walking around," you say. "Imagine being a bird and not having arms or hands."

You then stick your hands in your practice jersey and walk around. Someone throws a ball at you and you just let it hit you. It bounces away from you.

"Caitlin! Caity! CC!" You say running up to her with your arms still in your jersey. "Would you still love me if I was a pigeon?" You ask her.

"Of course, babe. You would be my pigeon," she says laughing her ass off.

"Good," you say. "Because you would be mine regardless of the animal you were.”

Not ten minutes later you are back in a drill.

"Oh ya, I got this," you say to yourself as you are going up for a layup. You flip it with your left hand and it banks in. "Money!" You yell and run to the back of the line.

As practice comes to a close, the team is scrimmaging. You go up to Kate and she reminds you of a very key detail you forgot about during practice.

"So, how was being mic'd up?" She asks and your eyes go wide, finding the camera that has been following you around the entirety of practice.

"Shit-fuck!" You whisper as you remember all the things you said during practice. "SHOOT - FUDGE" you yell remembering this was going to be on the media team's Youtube page.

You facepalm yourself pretty hard causing a nice slap sound to echo in the gym.

Caitlin runs up to you removing your hand from your face and kissing the place you just slapped.

"Don't slap yourself that hard babe," she says examining the slightly pink mark developing on your right eye and forehead.

"I fuc-messed up," you say and you point at the cameras.

Caitlin turns and Kate just stands there laughing.

Caitlin joins in on the laughing and brings you into her side, squeezing you and kissing your temple.

"Ehh, it was bound to happen sooner or later," she says.

After practice, you thank the media team for choosing you and you head back to your apartment with Kate and Caitlin.

"I can't believe I forgot about being mic'd up. I am so dumb,” you say as you crash on the couch. Your girlfriend comes and sits next to you, pulling your legs onto her lap.

"Don't worry about it babe - no one is going to care." She says rubbing your legs.

"Well, I don't know about that..." Kate says as she passes her phone to you.

You and Caitlin look at it and both of your jaws drop. The media team posted it and it already had 7,000 views. You scroll down to the comments and see people have attached links to their edits. You click on one and it takes you down a rabbit hole of edits that were already created shipping you and Caitlin.

"This is crazy," you say and hide your face.

Caitlin just laughs and continues to rub your legs.

"I think it's cute," she says with a smile.

"I royally messed up." You say.

"Hey," your girlfriend pulls you out of your thoughts, which she knows are going faster than you can comprehend. "If I would love you as a pigeon, I will love you through this, okay?" She says and lifts your face to meet hers.

"Okay," you say and lean in to give her a kiss.

AN: I would lowkey be the best mic'd up person out there. The thoughts that go through my brain sometimes are epic. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! And as always, thank you for your live and support 🤍

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Rule breaker- Wizarding world.

Summary: You tried to be a good girl, but a certain Sirius Black makes you break rules.

Warnings: Domxsub dynamics, pet names, SMUT (were not pissing around), Edging (without permission I guess), manipulation, subspace, crying, cum play, using sub as ‘cum dump’, lying, punishment, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight blackout,

Pairing: Wolfstar x fem!reader.

Word count: 6,290.

The walk to class was never an easy one. Hogwarts was filled with magic and mischievous ghosts and moving staircases but today this wasn't my issue with getting to classes on time. I had 7 minutes to get to my lesson and I knew if I didn't want to get into trouble with Remus and Sirius then I needed to haul ass, despite my tired legs.

Sighing heavily, I began to climb another staircase, noticing it had not long moved and so wouldn't for a while, and trudging down the corridor with a yawn as my body fought to rouse from its sleep. Despite me having a lie-in, I was still drowsy but I put that down to not getting up until 20 minutes before my class, barely leaving myself enough time to get ready. If Sirius and Remus didn't have an early class then I would have gotten woken but I liked to push my luck when they weren't there. It meant nobody was there to see me break the rules but that was my little secret.

I was almost to the end of the corridor where my first lesson was when a smirking Sirius walked out of an empty room, as if he was waiting for me, with a smug look on his face, blocking my path.

"Well, well, well what have we here?" The grin never left his face as he leaned against the wall on his shoulder and crossed his arms. I smiled sweetly up at him, hoping he didn't point out my sleepy eyes and ruffled looks.

"Morning Pads, how was your first lesson?" Hopefully diverting the attention to him would take his attention from my lie-in.

"It wasn't so bad, I think the most important question is how was your late start Poppet?" I froze and bit my lip, I knew there wasn't any point in denying it unless I wanted to get into any further trouble.

"I didn't mean to get up late, Moony usually has time to wake me but he couldn't this morning." I watched as he nodded his head in faux agreement almost as if he was mocking me before smiling sweetly and moving to kiss my head.

"Well, I have something that could wake you up," His lips ghosted over my temple as he rubbed his hands up and down my arms. I knew by now I was late to my class and the thought of Remus' disappointment made my stomach turn slightly. At the same time, I didn't want to disappoint Sirius, after all, they were both my Doms and so I had to abide by both sets of rules. It was almost as if he could read my mind because he smiled down at me and grabbed my hand, pulling me gently behind him and into the empty room.

"Don't worry Y/N, it's not rule-breaking because you're following my rules." I relaxed a bit more and let my arms wrap around him as he kissed my neck before meeting his lips in a rough kiss. It didn't take long for him to have me perched on the edge of the table, he stood between my parted legs and my hands tangled in his hair as I panted harshly. His hands expertly lifted me from my perch before slipping my underwear off, letting them drop to the floor before grinning down at me. Well at least he got one thing right: I really was wide awake now.

My head hung back, eyes closed and mouth open in a silent moan as he pushed into me with a groan as he bottomed out, stretching me out nicely. For a moment he was still and I looked up at him, admiring his mess of hair as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous smirk. Before long, his stillness turned to short thrusts as he tried to restrain himself before becoming rough and harsh which he knew I loved. The classroom was filled with groans as he chased after his high, using me like I was there for his pleasure only which made whimpers escape me alongside muffled moans as he covered my mouth with his hand to quieten me. My hips bucked in time with his as I gripped his shoulders for support, pulling at his shirt as I got closer to the edge. With a moan, Sirius pushed into me as far as he could before I felt hot thick ropes of his cum coat my insides, almost pushing me over the edge.

Just before I could get my release, he removed himself from me, leaving me a panting and shaking mess that could barely stand up as he moved away to straighten out his uniform. Tears collected in my eyes as I watched him in shock and annoyance. The sparkle never left his eyes as he grinned back at me, straightening his tie.

"Next time don't break the rules and you can cum, you bad girl. Remus is going to be so disappointed in his good little girl when I tell him what you've done. See ya later Poppet." With a wave and a mocking smile, he disappeared out the door and to his next lesson. I tried to shout after him but he ignored me as he ran to his next class.

Now two rules had been broken. I had been late for my class and let Sirius use me without Remus being there or giving permission. Usually, that had to be discussed between the three of us or agreed upon by Remus but this time I knew I would definitely be in trouble, especially if Sirius was to tell Remus it was my idea.

The decision to skip classes was a quick one and so I pulled my underwear back up, ignoring Sirius' cum that slowly seeped out of me, and sped back to our dorm without a word to anyone. Once I reached the common room, I ran upstairs to Remus and Sirius' room and threw myself on the Lycanthrope's bed with a huff. Usually, girls weren't allowed in the boy's dorm, and vice versa, but of course the marauders had found a way around it.

The rest of my morning was spent with me sulking in Remus' bed, trying to read my books but distracted by the need to cum and also by the thought of punishment from my Dom. I had swaddled myself in one of Remus' jumpers, leaving my skirt on and curling under the covers. The day dragged by and if anyone had noticed I hadn't turned up to any class then they mustn't have said anything because no visitors came up, which I was grateful for. As dinner passed, my stomach growled at me but I ignored it as a sick twisted feeling grew. I felt so incredibly guilty and though it was Sirius who had the idea, I shouldn't have agreed because Remus wasn't there too. I knew better than this and now I wasn't a good girl anymore. At least I didn't break a third rule by touching myself without permission even though I was desperate to.

The afternoon was filled with me slipping in and out of subspace, crying to myself and napping because I was exhausted from crying. I was so caught up in my emotions that I forgot Remus finished before Sirius who had an extra class after him. My eyes were still blurred by the tears that tracked down my cheeks when the bedroom door opened and I held in a breath, glad that my face was hidden away from whoever it was by Remus' pillow and my body covered in his blankets. I stiffened as a hand rested against my covered ankle but I soon relaxed when the familiar scent of pine wood and chocolate clouded my senses. Though the intruder had been identified as my Dom, I still kept my face hidden, not wanting to face him right now as guilt wracked me.

"Hey bunny, how come you weren't in lessons?" His voice was so soft and sweet just as it always was when he knew I was having a bad day but today I didn't deserve for him to be nice. "Is everything okay?" I couldn't answer him so I nodded silently. "Bun, Look at me." His voice was slightly harder, knowing he needed to be firm so I'd listen. Reluctantly, I turned onto my other side so he could see my face and raised my eyes to meet his, knowing they were red and puffy. His face flashed with concern and he raised a hand to caress my cheek but I stopped him, shaking my head.

"What happened Bunny?" Remus was far from stupid and wouldn't stop until he got to the bottom of this mess. "Did someone hurt you?"

"No," My voice came out as a whisper. "I'm just a bad girl Remmy, I'm sorry." I got a look of confusion as I curled my legs towards my chest.

"No, you could never be a bad girl f'me Y/N, you're my good girl. What makes you think you're a bad girl?" I bit back a whimper and sighed knowing I had to tell him. Obviously, Sirius hadn't told him so now was my chance to tell him what truly happened.

"I broke two rules. Nearly broke three Remmy." His back straightened slightly as I spoke but he didn't speak, instead he allowed me the chance to explain my wrongdoings. "I got out of bed really late 'n' nearly missed my lesson but when I was making my way to my class Sirius stopped me in the corridor, I would've been on time if he hadn't. I told him I was going to be late because I knew it would be better to tell the truth but I wasn't fully awake yet so he said he could wake me up and pulled me into one of the empty rooms." I sniffled as he nodded for me to continue. "Siri said it would be okay because I was following his rules and being good to him so I wouldn't get in trouble with you but when he was finished he didn't let me cum and left me in the room on my own after telling me I was a bad girl and you were gunna be disappointed with me. I ran straight back up here and haven't been to any lessons. I didn't want him to lie to you about it." By the time I was finished, he looked angry and I sat on the bed with fresh tears on my cheeks, sniffling like a baby.

"Oh Bunny, you poor thing." He crooned, running his hand over my hair and wiping away one of my tears. "So Sirius lied to you about it being okay and then didn't let you finish. Is that why you're so upset? Because you want to cum?"

"Kind of, yes but because I was bad as well, I didn't mean to be bad, he said I was being good f'him." I shifted uncomfortably against the blanket which didn't go unnoticed.

"You're not bad, Sirius is the one that's bad Bunny and I'll be dealing with him later." His eyes travelled down to my curled-up legs. "Did he clean you up after at least?" I shook my head no as he gently pulled down the covers. I let my legs part as he moved my underwear to one side and sighed in frustration at our boyfriend. "Why haven't you cleaned his cum away Bun?"

"I didn't wanna break another rule so I left it," I admitted, blushing as he watched Sirius' cum leak from me. Remus shook his head and moved back to his sitting position before smiling at me softly.

"You're not a bad girl, you know you should get up earlier but if Sirius hadn't stopped you and done this then you would have been on time for the lesson which I would've let slide. As for what happened, That's his fault and he will be punished accordingly so don't worry, you didn't break the rules. I'm very proud that you didn't want to break another rule but you can still clean yourself up Love, we wouldn't class that as rule-breaking."

"Thank you for not being angry Remmy." I smiled, feeling a little better about the day now that he knew what had happened. With a sigh I sat up and shuffled into Remus' lap to cuddle him, knowing now he wasn't angry at me at all. His warm arms wrapped around me gently and I nuzzled into his chest, getting as close as physically possible, feeling a little better now I knew he wasn't angry with me.

"Let's get you cleaned up Love and then I can help you out." I nodded and climbed out of his lap and walked into the bathroom, whining when I felt something warm drip through my underwear and down my thigh. The lycanthrope chuckled as I watched it slip down my leg and began to strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor as he got me some fresh underwear and one of his cardigans. He knew I hated wearing my clothes because his and Siri's were always more comfortable.

I waited in the bathroom for him to come back, shifting from one foot to the other as my hands stayed clasped in front of me, not wanting to be tempted into rule-breaking. As he walked back in, he smiled at me and kissed my head before stripping my underwear off and leaning me over the bathroom counter gently. I gasped as the cold surface met my chest and closed my eyes, holding in a whimper as he brushed his fingers over my hip gently, seeing the new bruises that had formed from Sirius' hands. I didn't mind the bruises, I actually loved having them, made me feel like I belonged. Seconds later, I jolted out of my thoughts as he started to clean me up, tutting to himself, being as gentle as always with me. A small moan slipped through my lips as he finished cleaning me, forgetting how sensitive and needy I was at the moment.

"Sorry Bun, "He pressed a kiss to my shoulder before sliding my feet into the underwear and pulling them up as I stood up from the counter. The wool of the cardigan glided across my skin as I melted into the fabric, encased in the Wolf's scent, and snuggled into his chest as I was buried in his arms. "That better now love?" I nodded against his chest and hummed happily before kissing his cheek gently.

"Thank you, Remmy." He gave me another squeeze before walking back into the room with me and patting his lap as he sat on the bed, against the headboard. I grinned and climbed onto the bed, settling myself so I was straddling him with my legs on either side of his hips. His hands looked huge against my thighs and I traced the scars on them with a small smile.

"Feeling better now little one?" His eyes were warm and kind as always. I nodded as his thumb rubbed against my skin, feeling a little more settled but still itching for some sort of contact. "Still feeling needy huh? Have you eaten yet Bunny?" I dropped my eyes from his and glanced at his hands shyly whilst shaking my head slowly. "Well, you need to eat a little something before anything happens because I don't want you getting ill." I nodded softly and clambered off his lap as he nipped down to the common room to make a sandwich. After he had brought it up and settled on the bed with me, I nibbled at it in little bits, glad to have the encouragement of my dom, not wanting to eat after the day I'd had but doing it because I knew he was right. Once I had finished half, I looked at Moony and he nodded in understanding, taking the plate and placing it on the bedside table, he knew I couldn't eat it all at the moment.

Minutes passed, and I let my food settle and had a drink of water before I started to feel fidgety and needy again. I pressed my face into the Lycanthrope's neck as I whined at him, hoping it would catch his attention. He chuckled but pulled my face to him, letting our lips connect into a gentle kiss. Instantly, I melted with a small sigh as my chest fell so it was pressing against his comfortably, soothed by the feeling of his thumb rubbing my skin gently. I whimpered quietly as I felt his bulge start to grow beneath me and tried as hard as I could to keep my hips still. Large hands slid from my thighs to my waist and started to move my hips slowly, silently allowing me to grind against him as my head started to cloud.

Warmth spread through my body as the anxiety and frustration I had from earlier melted away in lust for my Dom. The feeling of his rough hands against my hips mixed with the bulge beneath me had my back arching as I sped up the pace a little.

"Ah ah Bunny, you've had a very overwhelming and emotional day," He cut himself off with a low groan, grip tightening on my hips. "You need to take this slow or you'll drop and we know how bad you get when that happens don't we?" I knew the question was rhetorical so I slowed myself down back to the original speed before wrapping my arms around his neck loosely. His warmth soothed me until a chuckle began to rumble in his chest which caught my attention. "Bun, I can feel how wet you are right now and I've barely touched you. I can smell you too, you smell delicious." His voice lowered considerably when he said it and I hid my face in his throat as the blood flushed my already warm cheeks. "Awww my shy girl, don't have to be shy f'me Bun, let me see your pretty little face." I lifted my head to find him smiling at me lovingly and pulling open the buttons of the cardigan, exposing my bare chest to him. Warm lips met my collarbone as he kept my hips moving slowly but kissed any skin he could get to. I let my head fall back and my mouth open in a sigh of relief as his mouth made its way down to my nipples, which had hardened when the cool air of the dorm met them. I wrapped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head from my chest gently.

"Remmy, I really really need you," I pressed my forehead against his, pressing my core against him harder. "Please, want you to do whatever you want with me. Make me do anything to you, use my mouth or my body, anything." I truly was desperate for anything he was willing to give me, I was on the verge of tears.

"Bun, I'm not gonna use you, Sirius did that and you ended up in this state so I'm gonna help you and give you what you need and want. This is about you baby." His hands manoeuvred me as he spoke, placing me against the pillows carefully as my breath caught in my throat. "Now, what's my name little one?"

"Daddy, you're my Daddy." I didn't have the energy or patience to be bratty about it so I gave him the right answer the first time.

"Good girl, now let Daddy take these off," He tugged at the waistband of my underwear and I lifted my hips so he could slip them off. "Let me see my pretty girl." I let my legs spread and watched as he grinned and licked his lips as if he was hungry. "Atta girl." A gentle thumb rubbed patterns on my skin as he knelt on the bed, level with my throbbing heat. "Bunny's all wet f'me huh? D'you think I should help out?" I nodded furiously and bit my lip to hold in a whine at the teasing.

He chuckled darkly and slid his hands under my parted legs to hold them apart with strong hands before peppering kisses over the skin of my thighs, working closer and closer as he went. When the kisses reached where I wanted him most, he continued but avoided touching my clit. I whimpered as his grip tightened and he finally pressed his mouth to me, letting his tongue rub around my bundle of nerves. If it wasn't for his hands holding me down then I knew my hips would be pushing against his mouth as hard as I could. It didn't take long for him to get the idea of what I needed as his tongue finally met my clit, tracing circles into it. My legs tensed as a gasp escaped me, my eyes squeezing shut as a flash of long-awaited pleasure ran through me. I lifted my head and looked down at him, eyes meeting my Dom's as they sparkled.

"Daddy, please, need more." I felt breathless as he gave me just what I asked for, moving one of his hands to rub circles into my clit as his tongue thrust inside me with a groan. It didn't take long for the feeling to begin bubbling in my abdomen as he sped up, knowing by the way my body reacted that I wouldn't be able to last much longer. My breath got heavier as I moaned and gasped through the feeling, reaching my peak as he nipped at my clit. The world seemed to drown out as a much-needed feeling washed over me and I came, moaning and thrashing as he held me down and carried me through it.

"Shh shh, it's okay Bunny," He crooned, slowing his motions down before coming to a stop and pressing kisses to my trembling thighs. "That's daddy's good girl." The pet name made me feel warm and fuzzy as I drifted down from my peak, opening my eyes to find his amber eyes staring back at me. He licked his lips before running his hand over his mouth with a grin. "You really are delicious Bun."

I smiled and pulled him down towards me for a kiss, hands bunching into his jumper as his lips met mine. I pulled at it, letting him sit up to pull off the jumper and shirt so I could touch his bare chest, grinning at how warm he was. My fingers traced over his scars nonchalantly as they always did and he smiled down at me. I loved the feeling of the scars, they were a big turn-on for me, and him letting me touch them meant he trusted me, especially in such an intimate moment.

"Let's get you stretched out and I'll give you everything you want little one," I nodded softly and bit my lip as two of his fingers worked inside me, giving me enough to sigh in pleasure and relief but not satisfy me completely. "Good girl Bunny." The praise made the flush on my chest travel to my cheeks and a hazy smile made its way to my face.

"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you Moony," My moans were cut off by Sirius as he spoke up from the doorway. My eyes widened as I heard his voice and Remmy's thumb rubbed my hip to comfort me as he turned to meet Sirius' gaze. I could hear the smirk in his voice as he caught us.

"And why's that Pads?" His tone stayed neutral so he didn't tip the other male off that he knew what had happened. "She's my good girl and good girls deserve to feel good." The darker-haired male scoffed at the words, chuckling darkly as Remus rubbed his free hand on my thigh gently.

"Well, your good girl happens to be a rule breaker and apparently a liar Remus or didn't she tell you what she did?" Remus smiled down at me, hidden from Siri's gaze.

"Oh you mean about how she got up late and didn't go to a single lesson." Sirius nodded but gestured for him to continue to say there was more than just that. "And perhaps you mean about how she was taken into a side room with someone who just used her as a cumdump," My core clenched around his fingers at the words, "leaving her hurting and needy so she spent the day up here suffering and upset and so far in subspace that she thought cleaning herself up would be rule-breaking." Sirius' smug grin dropped as soon as he realised Remus knew and I couldn't help the slight smile on my face. "Or maybe you mean the part where you tricked her into thinking it wasn't rule-breaking because she was doing as you said, could possibly even be the part where you said you'd lie to me and say it was her idea." I knew Remus was unhappy and disappointed with his other sub by this point but his fingers didn't stop moving inside me, letting me feel him inside me as I let out soft whimpers and moans that broke through the tension. I almost cried out as the lycanthrope pulled his fingers out of me so he could stand, stalking toward Padfoot, but I swallowed it down because I was his good girl and didn't want to interrupt.

"Moony, I didn't mean for her to get hurt or upset." He began, "I saw her on the way to class and I couldn't help myself she was just so beautiful." My body flushed more at the unexpected compliment. "I just wanted to get a release is all." Remus shook his head in annoyance as he cornered the smaller boy with a dark grin.

"I don't care, you still did it even when you knew it wasn't allowed. And didn't you think that maybe Y/N wanted a release too rather than being used and left pent up with your cum still inside her for the day?" My body shivered at his words, my pussy clenched around the air. "Because that's how I found her. Crying on my pillow with your cum dribbling out of her. She missed out Pads, big time and now because of what you did you're gunna miss out too." As he spoke, Remmy pulled Sirius by the wrist over to one of the chairs and used wordless magic to bind him to it but not before removing his clothes with a spell.

"Moons, I didn't mean to, please don't make me sit here and -"

"I'm sorry, I didn't recall saying you had a choice or that you could speak did I?" His eyes glared into Siri's as he straightened himself out and began to strip off himself entirely. My mouth watered as he got entirely naked and I sat up slightly so I could watch the way his muscles shifted under his freckled skin. "I'm going to make her feel so good and you're going to watch and think about what you did and how you can make it up to her. And if she's not entirely satisfied then you'll have to do whatever she wants. Is that understood?" His voice was harsh and clipped as he walked back over to the bed, nodding in satisfaction when the tied-up boy agreed.

"Can I please have you now Daddy?" I begged, pulling his shoulders down as he came to kneel on the bed between my legs.

"Of course, you can Bunny." I smiled as he pulled me into a kiss, his tongue mingling with my own so the taste of my cum transferred into my mouth, leaving me moaning. My breath hitched in anticipation as Remus positioned himself at my entrance, using my cum as lubrication to push into my tight, throbbing heat. My grip on his shoulders tightened as he pushed into me as far as he could. A loud groan filled the room as the tip of his cock came to a stop against my cervix, unable to go any further; I never could fully fit him. Sirius' desperate moans faded into the background as my body jolted with short, sharp thrusts. I let my eyes meet his tear-filled grey ones as my own watered with pleasure and relief giving him an idea of what he could've had if only he'd played fair.

"Please Rem, it hurts," Siri whined as he tried to wiggle in his bands, hissing as the red, leaking tip of his cock rubbed against his stomach at the movement, eyes fluttering away from my face.

"That's a real shame Pads," The wolf growled sarcastically, gritting his teeth as I clenched around him, pulling him close to me. "Now you know how my Bunny felt." My walls fluttered as his thrusts sped up and I climbed towards my peak much quicker than I'd have liked. It didn't take long for him to find a specific spot along my velvet walls which made me see stars as a loud and almost pornographic moan ripped from my throat, making me gush around my Dom as I toppled over my peak and through my high. The way I tightened around him, had him moaning loudly and stuttering hips came to a stop as he buried as far into me as he could, thick ribbons of his cum coating my insides generously as he buried his face in my neck, biting down to leave his mark. He stifled his moans as they vibrated against my neck.

I raked my fingers through his hair as my vision came back into focus and listened to the sounds of his panting and last few moans. His head lifted slowly, letting his eyes fall on mine, before dipping to kiss me sweetly.

"Any better Bunny?"

"Much better, thank you, Daddy." I giggled as he pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose before pulling out slowly, hushing me as I whined at the feeling and overstimulation.

"D'you think we should let him help?" I hummed in thought for a moment before nodding up at him. "Okay Pads, you follow my every word or you go back on the chair." His curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. "You're going to kneel in between her legs and eat every last bit of my cum out of her, swallow it all, and then maybe I'll let you get some stimulation on you're selfish, needy cock." With a snap of his fingers, the binds fell away from the marauder's body and disappeared, allowing the boy to scramble over to the bed and straight to where Remmy said.

I worked through the sensitivity as his tongue began to lap at my pussy, ignoring how it quivered at the feeling. Large hands snaked around my thighs as he held my legs open for him so he could feast to his heart's content. I whined, feeling cum begin to slide out of me and down towards the bed sheets. Before it could get any further, Sirius' tongue licked a stripe from my ass upwards to catch it and swallow it down just as he'd been told to. Keening at the feeling, he buried his face into my pussy, suckling and slurping at me as my fingers curled into his hair and the bedsheets, loving how his fingers dug into my thighs. Small tears began to drip down my cheeks as the strength of my pleasure shook my thighs around his head. The sounds of his moans as he ate me out made my stomach clench in pleasure and anticipation and I found myself fighting to hold back the third orgasm of the day.

"Daddy," I gasped. "M'close again." A smile donned my Dom's face as he reached down to brush the hair from my face. My voice was barely a whisper as sobs of pleasure began to rack my body.

"Go ahead baby, cum on Padfoot's tongue."And with that, I let my body release what I'd been holding back, gasping my way through it. Though it was an amazing feeling, this was different from the others, more soothing because of the sensitivity and stimulation, leaving me feeling warm and fuzzy, like I was drifting. "That's it, good girl." His voice kept me grounded as I shuddered through the feeling, not being able to stop my trembling legs as he lapped at me, slower now. The subspace I had been suffering in earlier melted into a gentle and calm one that I had needed.

"Can't do anymore Daddy," I whimpered, fingers tightening in Sirius' curls as I tried to pull him away from my throbbing heat. "No more mouth, Daddy, tell 'im please." Remus chuckled and nodded at my request.

"Alright Pads, enough now." On cue, the mouth against me retracted and he came into view above me, a small grin but apologetic eyes as he hovered over me. He leaned down to kiss me softly and I reciprocated, enjoying his soft lips on my own. "Okay Bunny, One last time and then you can rest okay? I know we have you worked up but this will be last because he's been good and listened to me." I didn't have the strength to argue with him as my other Dom positioned my legs around his waist before pressing into me slowly. My back arched at the feeling, eyes rolling back and mouth open in a silent moan whilst the tears were wiped from my cheeks. His head fell into the crook of my neck as he thrust against me, having lost all of his composure from his punishment and eating what was left over from it. My eyes squeezed shut, my fingers scrambled against his back as he sped up, not being able to hold back as long as he'd like, my nails making crescent dents in his soft skin.

"Come on Poppet," He growled into my ear, with me whining in response. "One more, just one." His thrusts began to lose their rhythm as I clenched around him, eyes flowing with tears. "Cum for me Poppet." The way he moaned in my ear sent me over my final peak and I couldn't tell if the moan was loud or silent with how strong the feeling surged through me. I heaved for air as it was knocked out of my lungs, gripping onto whatever I could to try and stop the feeling of falling. It took what felt like a good while for me to come back to my senses.

"That's it Bunny, You're okay." The first feeling I could isolate was the way my legs trembled, aching from their spread position though there was nobody in between them anymore. My own broken breaths sounded in my ears as my heart thumped against my ribs. Gentle hands held my hair back from my face as my eyes fluttered behind their lids.

"Come on Poppet, come back to us." Sirius seemed to beg as he whispered to me, a large hand wiping the tears from my face as I came back down. I whined at the feeling of more cum slipping out of me and groaned as my eyes batted open and painfully lifted my aching legs to curl them to my side to stop the pain of being spread too long. "There she is." His grin looked relieved as he glanced down at me. The bed shifted beside me as Remus got up and returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp washcloth. My legs snapped shut around his hand as he started to clean up the mess that was left behind, hissing at the over-sensitive feeling that shocked my body.

"Now Bunny," The lycanthrope warned. "You have to let me clean you up. Can't leave you in this mess." Too exhausted to fight, I let him part my legs one more time and swipe, dab and clean away Sirius' cum and my own. All the while, I cried out in discomfort and slight pain but tried to focus on Sirius' gentle hand rubbing my stomach. It didn't take long for Remmy to finish his task but by the time he was stopping I weakly kicked his hands away, whimpering and welling up with more tears.

"No more, ouch Remmy, stop," I begged through tears, their faces blurring as Remus came to sit at the top of the bed with us. "Can't do it, hurts Rem, all done," I mumbled tiredly, making no sense but soothed by the covers that were pulled up over my body and the two boys that cuddled me and caressed my body sweetly whilst I floated.

"All done Bunny don't worry." A shivering exhale deflated my body, letting me relax bonelessly against the bed.

"Poppet," Sirius whispered, a hand running through my hair as my eyes met his own. "I'm sorry for what I did sweet girl, I won't ever hurt you like that again I swear. I'm sorry." I smiled softly at him and nodded, pulling him down for a gentle kiss to let him know he was forgiven.

"I think it's time you got some rest now though Bunny, Your body is exhausted and your head is too fuzzy so you need to sleep it off." Before Moony had finished talking, I was already drifting off. I finally fell asleep to the two protecting me and holding me to them like I was a prized possession.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

After Class » Sebastian Stan (AU)

Pairings: College Professor!Sebastian Stan x College Student!Female Reader

Summary: Sebastian tells Y/N he wants to see her after class.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, f receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, sir kink, spanking, name calling (slut), use of pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Sebastian watched as you walked in his classroom. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were wearing a skirt and a plain black crop top. It’s like you were teasing him on purpose. He took a deep breath before starting class. You stared at him the whole time, biting the tip of your pen. He occasionally glanced at you to see you staring at him with a look of seduction in your eyes. His eyes took a quick glance under your desk, seeing your legs spread and flashing him your panties. You bit your lower lip before sitting up properly and crossed your leg over the other. You leaned your arms on your desk, making your cleavage look good. Now he knows you’re teasing him. The bell rang, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts.

“Make sure to study chapter 7 for next week’s test.” Sebastian says as everyone shuffles out of the room.

Sebastian seen you walking towards the door and stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N?” Sebastian says.

“Yes, Professor?” You asked, turning around to face him.

“See me in my office in a few minutes.” He says.

“Will do, sir.” You say, giving him a smile before leaving the room.

Sebastian sighs and ran his fingers through his hair before gathering his stuff and went to his office. You knocked on office door a few minutes later.

“Come in!” Sebastian says.

You walked inside of his office to see Sebastian at his desk and grading papers.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” You say, sounding innocent as can be.

“Yes. Close and lock the door please.” He says.

You did as he said and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, putting your backpack on the floor next to the chair.

“Do you know why I asked you to come to my office?” He asks.

You glanced down, noticing that a few buttons on his button up shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was off.

“I asked you a question. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Sebastian says sternly.

“No, sir. I don’t know why you asked me to come to your office.” You say.

Sebastian chuckles before standing up and walked around his desk to where you were and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at his arms. The way his biceps were bulging in the sleeves of his shirt, like it was going to rip any second.

“You were teasing me today and you know it.” He says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor.” You say innocent and playing dumb.

“I think you exactly know what I’m talking about.” He says.

Sebastian chuckles before pushing himself off of his desk. He leaned over you and put his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping you in the chair and caging you between his strong arms. His face was inches away from yours. Your breathing quickened.

“You exactly know what I’m talking about, sweetheart.” He almost whispers. “You dressed like a little slut just to get my attention, didn’t you? Well guess what, honey… you have it now.” He says.

“Professor Stan, I- that wasn’t my intention.” You say, lying through your teeth.

“Don’t try lying your way out of this. You’re going to get punished like the little slut you are.” He says.

You shouldn’t be this turned on by being called a slut, but the way he says it makes it sound so hot and you were all for it. Sebastian stood up straight and took a couple steps back.

“Bend over my desk.” He orders.

You did as you were told, standing up and bent over his desk. Sebastian approached you and stood behind you. He bunched your skirt up above your hips, exposing your wet panties to him.

“Just as I thought…” His fingers rubbed your pussy through your wet panties momentarily. “You’re wet like a slut.” He says.

Sebastian hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, shoving the wet fabric into his pocket.

“You address me as sir and you better count the spanks I give you, understand?” Sebastian says, his hands giving your ass cheeks a squeeze.

“I understand, sir.” You say submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises, giving your ass cheeks another squeeze.

His hands rubbed your ass cheeks before raising one of his hands, landing a harsh smack on your ass causing you to whimper at the sting.

“I don’t hear counting.” He says.

“One…” You counted, whimpering when he landed a second spank on your ass. “Two…” You say, more in a moan.

Eight spanks later your ass was red as a cherry. Sebastian rubbed his hands against your stinging skin to soothe it.

“You took your punishment very well, but I’m not done with you yet.” He says.

Sebastian helped you stand up straight and he kissed you hungrily. He grasped the back of your thighs and picked you up, placing you on top of his desk. His hands found their way the underneath your crop top, squeezing your breasts over your bra. His lips moved down to your neck, marking you up. His hands left your breasts to spread your legs further apart so he could stand in between them. You moaned softly when you felt his bulge rub against your bare pussy. One of this hands moved to your inner thigh, slowly moving towards your pussy. His fingers rubbed in between your folds, blindly finding clit and rubbed it in slow circles. You whined, wanting more. That earned you a smack on your thigh, making you yelp.

“Quit your whining.” Sebastian warns.

His fingers continued to rub your clit in slow circles. He then slid his fingers to your tight entrance, circling it before sliding two fingers in your pussy. A soft moan fell from your lips. His fingers moved at a decent pace while his thumb continued to rub your clit.

“I have to say…” Sebastian starts. “I love seeing you like this.” He admits. “You must be going crazy to feel my cock inside of you, huh?” He says, curling his fingers and hitting your sweet spot.

“Yes!” You gasped, voluntarily spreading your legs wider. “I want to feel it inside of me so fucking bad.” You moaned, tilting your head back.

“Be a good girl and take the rest of your punishment and I’ll fuck you.” He says.

“Please!” You begged, not even sure what you’re begging for. “Faster!” You tell him.

Sebastian moved his fingers faster while rubbing his thumb against your clit, occasionally curling his fingers against your sweet spot. Your chest rose and fell as moans left your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back, your lips parted and moans leaving them. You tried your best not to be loud. The more he curled his fingers into your sweet spot made your orgasm build up quickly.

“Professor, sir…” You whimpered. “I’m gonna cum.” You tell him.

Just then, he took his fingers out of you, making you whimper.

“The only place you’re cumming is on my cock.” Sebastian says.

You watched as he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. You licked your lips at the sight of his bulge in his boxers. That’s when you got a confidence boost. You took off your crop top and dropped it on the floor. Your hands disappeared behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest and exposing your breasts to your hot professor.

“You gonna show me some skin, professor?” You asked seductively, biting your lower lip.

You watched as Sebastian unbuttoned his button up shirt, opening it up to show you what you’ve wanted to see since the first day you walked in his classroom. You couldn’t help but reach your hands out and rub them against his toned abdomen. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“You think you can let up on my punishment a little bit, sir?” You asked innocently while rubbing your hands against his muscles.

The innocence in your voice almost made him cum in his boxers.

“Nice try, sweetheart.” Sebastian says, making you pout.

He pulled down his pants and boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the sight of it. All you wanted to do was suck him off.

“My eyes are up here, honey.” He says, snapping his fingers.

Sebastian pulled you towards the edge of the desk, your legs spread wider voluntary. You gasped when he rubbed his cock between your folds. He lined it at your tight entrance, sliding it in your pussy inch by inch.

“Oh, professor…” You moaned, feeling every inch of his cock.

Sebastian grab the back of your head, pulling your head forward and gave you a sloppy kiss. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me, professor.” You begged.

Without hesitation, Sebastian started thrusting at a decent pace which gradually got faster. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans left your lips. One of Sebastian’s hands found its way to one of your breasts, his thumb rubbed over your nipple before pinching it. A gasp left your lips and you arched your back, pushing your chest against his hand.

“You like that, don’t you?” Sebastian smirks. “You like your professor fucking you little pussy?” He asks.

“Yes!” You gasped. “So much!” You moaned.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, locking your ankles behind his back.

“Oh yes!” You moaned when his cock hit your sweet spot. “Right there, sir!” You moaned again.

His cock hit your sweet spot perfectly. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. The smell of sex and skin slapping filled his office. The way his cock felt inside of you and the way his hands felt on your body made you feel like you were in a different world.

“Fuck…” He moans, loving the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock.

Pleasure took over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back for a moment before looking down at where the two of you are connected, watching as his cock disappeared inside of your pussy and covered in your wetness. Your nails found their way to his strong shoulders, your nails digging in his skin, marking him up with red scratch marks.

“You’re mine now.” He practically growls. “Got it?” He says.

“Yes!” You moaned. “I’m yours, sir!” You moaned again.

One of his hands found its way to your clit and rubbed it in fast circles, helping your orgasm build up even more. A knot tightened in your stomach.

“Oh fuck, professor!” You whimpered. “I’m going to cum! Please let me cum.” You begged. “I’m being a good girl for you.” You say more in a whimper.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Is all Sebastian said.

You tried your best to not moan too loud as you came. Sebastian wasn’t too far behind you. He came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He kissed you hungrily before looking deep in your eyes, both of you panting. He pulled out of you and the two of you got redressed. He helped you off his desk and kissed you once more.

“Dress like this again, I won’t go be so gentle next time.” Sebastian says.

“Yes, professor.” You say.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[drdemonprince]

don’t know if this is relevant to your ask box, but I thought you might find it interesting.

I’m a 20 yr old trans man who’s just started an ongoing thing with a new Dom, who is over twice my age. I’m currently finishing up my second year at uni, and he’s, you guessed it, also the, uh…. academic sort.

He’s a busy guy so obviously we can only meet up every once and a while, but we text almost every day. From the beginning he was always curious about my school endeavours, but recently it’s become more of a thing.

He won’t let us meet until certain assignments are done. He’s flexible and understanding, like any good dom, but holy shit this man had me at a cafe for ten hours on 40mg of vyvanse writing my final essay like my life depended on it. I didn’t even know who I was, motivated by the pure need to please and, quite frankly, desperate desire to be absolutely taken and used. This man has “cured” my ADHD (not really, but damn well is he fucking helping it).

I think the point I’m getting at here it that I can’t believe it took the motivation of my D/s relationship to get me to get shit done. Like, I’m done DAYS before the deadline for things I usually would have left last minute. I’ve been honest with my struggles with motivation and difficulties taking care of myself, and he is genuinely invested in my well-being so I know it all comes from a place of care and respect.

At the moment I’m working on my final short film for a class, and he told me to make a list of all the foley sounds I thought would help drive the narrative (he knows I love making lists, it’s also the autism), and as probably one of the best rewards for my good behaviour, he shared with me a collection of audio files (he dabbles in audio mixing) that were relevant to the list I shared. Can you believe this??!!

All these studentxprof fics are getting it wrong. Sometimes nothing comes between a teacher’s genuinely investment in student learning (if they enjoy what they do, like he does) and that is absolutely true in this case. Absolutely unbelievable this is my life right now. Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

This sounds so fucking sweet and HOT anon! I'm so glad you're having an exciting time with an older dom who cares about you and helps you meet your goals! And the phrasing of this guy making you write for hours on vyvanse is especially titilating...making it sound like an intox scene omg drool

ADHDers are generally very socially motivated, which is not rare for human beings at all. It makes sense that having the external structure that an outside observe can provide and the sense that your actions actually matter to other people and that people care about you would help facilitate you focusing on shit and getting organized! Not to mention how much fuckin easier it is to perform any kind of household task or bit of drudgery once it becomes sexual service. Shit gives boring regular life a charge of excitement, and the abdication of power gives you the discipline to actually follow through, because you're not the only one on the hook for everything and that's less scary!

I have nothing much more to say other than this rules and I hope you keep having a fun time!

[zepskies]

Assistant Hottie

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader (implied Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university. 

AN: So I know it’s about 20 years late, but I’ve been wanting to write some Jason Teague for a while now. There’s a very dated reference to iPods (remember this show was circa early 2000s).

Word Count: 2,600 Tags/Warnings: Implied love triangle (quadrangle?), fluff, tinge of angst, and a meet cute.

“Hey, Coach T!”

Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced. He slows down in the busy hallway so the younger man can catch up.

Clark’s friends, Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang keep walking, though the brunette glances his way. Her hazel eyes catch his.

But Jason focuses on Clark, who’s coming at him with all six feet and three inches of farm boy earnestness.

Jason has City Boy Charm in his arsenal.

“What’s up, man?”

Clark smiles. “Real quick, just wanted to ask you about the drills we’re running today…”

Eighth period is about to start, meaning just another hour until school ends, and another day of practice begins on the football field. Clark takes all five minutes between classes to ask his questions about how he can better move the ball, his throwing technique, how to better communicate on plays with the rest of the guys.

As always, Jason gives Clark the best advice he has to offer. Even a few months into this job, he’s still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome. He’s only a couple of years older than the guys he’s coaching, and Clark is looking at him like he’s got all the answers.

Newsflash, champ. I don’t. Jason smiles though. 

Because Clark is something else. He’s a starting quarterback of a game he’s never played before in his life. Head Coach Quigley thought it was steroids at first, but Jason had a gut feeling about the guy.

“He’s not a cheater,” he’d told Quigley. The other man had scoffed, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, Teague. If you think so,” he said. “…Make him piss in a cup anyway.”

Since then, Clark hasn’t given Jason a reason to doubt him, at least on the field.

No, his reasons for still being wary of Clark are more…personal.

“All right, we’ll workshop the rest later on the field,” Jason says, as the starting bell rings. “You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Okay, see ya later.” Clark nods and holds up a hand in goodbye. To tell the truth, Jason is a little relieved to see him go.

Instead of heading to his office, he makes a pitstop at the faculty break lounge for a cup of coffee. He could use a little pick-me-up, even if it is from a watery K-cup.

When he pushes open the door, he’s greeted by the familiar smell of stale roasted hazelnut and microwaved fish. Along with the wall-to-wall countertop and refrigerator down the end, there’s a small round table fitted with just three chairs.

Uh oh, he thinks.

You’re sitting there with a pair of earbuds in, nodding to your music while you make notes with a red pen. The contents of your messenger bag are half-strewn across the table, displaying a couple of notebooks and binders, different colored highlighters, pens, and a post-it pad.

Your back is facing him, so he has to walk around the table to get your attention. He hesitates, before he taps your shoulder. He’s never had to do this before, and he’s actually a bit nervous.

“Hey there,” he says. His lips quirk when you jolt a little. You stare up at him with wide eyes and the top of your pen resting against your lower lip. 

“Uh…” You remove your ear buds and hit pause on your iPod.

“Did you get lost on the way to study hall, or you just here for the coffee?” Jason gestures to the Keurig machine on the counter. “Hate to break it to you, but that stuff’s not exactly quality joe.”

You blinked at him. “What? Um…I mean yeah, the coffee’s ass. But it is free, I guess.”

Jason tries to reign in his smile. He cards a hand through his blonde hair and taps his free hand on the table.

“Uh, are you ditching class or something?” he asks. “If it’s history, I get it. Snooze fest.”

He makes a flatlining motion with his hand. Your brows knit together in confusion…but then you brighten.

“Oh, I’m not a student,” you laugh. “But good on you for trying to lay down the law, Coach Teague.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be confused. “How did you know—”

You point with your red pen, over to the yellow patch emblazoned on his red polo that says: Crows Football and Assistant Coach.

“Pretty sure you’re the one the cheerleaders are calling Assistant Hottie,” you say. Your gaze is wry and a hint playful.

He lets himself smile, albeit with some embarrassment. He points at you.

“And you’re…”

“Part-time teacher’s aid,” you reply. Your hands make a frame around the stack of papers in front of you, that Jason now realizes you’re grading.

Great. His face warms a bit.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, and points to the coffee maker. “Let me just mind my business.”

He doesn’t know it, but you subtly watch him with a small smile while he goes about said business. The Keurig eventually spits out more roasted hazelnut into his Styrofoam cup.

With his prize in hand, he means to leave you in peace to head for his office, but your voice stops him.

“You can sit if you want. I need a break anyway.”

Jason can admit, at least to himself, that he’s curious. (About you.) He goes over to the table and sits down across from you. His eyes unconsciously dart over the splayed contents of your bag, and you don’t miss it.

“Sorry,” you say, as you try to reign in the mess and corral things back into your bag. “I’m kind of an organized chaos kind of girl.”

“No worries. I dabble in that philosophy myself,” he says with a grin. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, giving him your name in return.

You like his smile. His long fingers are wrapped around the steaming cup. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun is pouring in from the windows behind him. It shines golden on his hair and broad shoulders, and makes his green eyes look warm.

Those eyes glance down and focus on a familiar badge sticking out of your bag. His brows furrow.

“No way. You go to Kansas A&M?” he asks. “So do I.”

You blink at him. “What, you’re still in college?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, blowing out a breath.

“Okay, wow! A bit rude," he says. "Just how old do you think I am?”

You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Second thought, don’t answer that,” he quips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, through a bit of laughter. “I guess we’re both reading each other wrong today.”

Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he says airily. “Lest I be any more presumptuous, can I ask what year you’re in? Major?”

You concede with a nod, but you’re still smiling too hard.

“Secondary Education. Junior year,” you say. Jason’s brows raise with his grin still in place.

“Okay, a future teacher on our hands.” He leans forward. “As it turns out, I’m actually a sophomore.”

A year below you. You bury your reddened face in your hands, though a giggle still bubbles up.

He doesn’t let you stew in your misery for long though.

“Eh, it’s okay. Don’t feel too bad,” he says. You hear the smile in his voice, and you peek out at him from between your fingers. “I’m technically a year behind. Transferred from another school so I could take this job.”

Once again, your eyes widen as your hands fall away from your face.

“Oh, yeah? I assume you play football, but I’ve never seen you on the team…”

Jason’s smile turns playfully cocky.

“I don’t play anymore, but I’ll have you know, I was on track for the NFL.”

Yeah, for about a minute, comes a dull reminder in his brain.

You rest your chin in your hand as you meet his smile. “Okay. You definitely have the face of a guy who almost went pro.”

Your voice lowers at the end there, impersonating every “dude bro” you’ve ever met who thought he could throw a ball across a field.

“I’m serious.” Jason laughs, but then his eyes dim a bit. “I played for Metropolis U. Tore my rotator cuff, and uh…that’s it. Scrubbed. Had to start over.”

You dim along with him. “That sucks ass. I’m sorry.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee. “You’ve certainly got a way with words.”

“But you feel better for me calling you old, don’t you?” Your pen taps on your lip, and his eyes are drawn to the gesture.

He also notices your eyes, the shape of your face, the shade of your hair, the black Fleetwood Mac shirt (with a ripped V hinting at cleavage). It doesn’t exactly scream T.A., but you’re pretty.

Beautiful, really.

He tries not to notice that too much.

“Maybe a little,” he allows. He smiles behind a sip of his drink. It’s getting cold, as he forgets to actually drink it.

“My parents sent me to college to be a lawyer,” you confess. It perks his interest with raised brows. “Like my mom, and my uncle, and his father before him, and so on.”

Jason’s smile is back. You consider that a small triumph.

“I sat in one class. Intro to Business Law.” You shudder at the memory. “Jason, I wanted to bludgeon myself with the textbook. And it wouldn’t have taken long. That thing was the size of a Dostoyevsky novel.”

Jason laughs, even though he doesn’t know who Dostoyevsky is. It does unearth a distant memory of his 12th grade English class (he barely passed that one).

“So, I decided to disappoint them,” you say ruefully.

That, he understands all too well. He raises a finger at you. “Hey, a teacher’s respectable. But I happen to be an expert at disappointed parents, so you’re in good company.”

You smile, small but genuine. Jason counts that as a win.

“What’s your major now?” you ask.

“Sports medicine,” he replies, but you both hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

Your head tilts, and your eyes soften. Not with pity, he thinks. Maybe with understanding.

“You could find something else you’re actually passionate about,” you say.

Jason bites the inside of his lip, sets his cup back on the table.

“Sure,” he says.

His lackluster answer is telling, and he can’t even think of a joke to inject into this moment to lighten the mood. (He even disappoints himself there.)

“Look, I get it,” you say at last. “You probably ate, slept, breathed that game. Like that’s what you were put on this earth to do. And I know you must’ve been good. Because the fact that this school hired you while you’re still in college is amazing.”

He meets your gaze steadily. 

Your smile brightens. “But I’m sure football’s not all there is to you.” 

That touches him. Warms him even, though he’s reluctant to let it. 

“We just met, and you’re already sure about that?” he remarks. 

You shrug, gesturing at his cup. “Well, I’m sure that you probably have crappy taste in coffee. I’m broke as hell, and even I don’t drink from a Keurig.” 

Jason laughs. If you only knew that he’d spent his summer in Paris, sampling some of the best restaurants and cafés in the world without even looking at the bill…until his dad cut him off. Needless to say, he’s had to refine his tastes.

“What kind of teacher do you want to be?” he asks, instead of getting to all that.

Your brow arches. “You mean what subject?”

“Yeah. What, like physics or something?”

“Ew. God, no!” 

“What’s wrong with physics?”

“Too much math. I’m shit at that shit,” you reply. 

“Okay. No to the sciences.” He laughs and rubs his chin, squinting at you. “Let me see if I can guess.”

You gesture widely. Go ahead.

“Not economics, I’m thinking. Too close to business,” he teases.

“Business law,” you correct. “But you’re actually right about that.”

“Hmm, history?”

“It's interesting, but it’s also rigged,” you say. “Only the victors in society get to dictate what gets remembered. Just look at Columbus Day. What a sham that is.”

Jason allows that with a nod and a smile. “All right, what then? Algebra? Geometry?”

“That’s math, remember?” you reply, with furrowed brows. “Besides, I don’t like mixing letters and numbers. It’s not sanitary.” 

He chortles at that. You’re a little ridiculous, but he kind of likes that.

“Okay, how about English?” he says.

Your gaze flicks up to his. A small, growing smile. 

“What makes you say that?” you ask. 

“Process of elimination?” he says. His smile curves. He saw your little reaction. “But I don’t know. I get the feeling you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me. The way you’re talking, all quick as a whip… Like I said, you’ve got a way with words.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, do I?” 

Jason’s brows raise expectantly as he leans back in his seat again.

Well, then? that move says. “Am I right?”

Your head tilts, and you answer the unspoken challenge in his eyes. You raise a finger and pull out one of your notebooks and you take up your red pen. You tap the top of it on your lip, in what seems to be your habit, and you begin to write on a clean piece of paper.

Your hand moves with purpose on each word. Jason watches you in curiosity. Though when you realize he’s staring hard at your paper, your free hand forms a wall against his probing eyes.

“No cheating,” you reproach.

He scoffs, but he waits for you to finish.

Finally, you tear off the piece of notebook paper, fold it up neatly, and you slide it over to him.

“What, are we passing notes now?” Jason can’t help but joke, even as he opens the little gift. “I thought we weren’t in class, Professor.”

You shake your head. “Just read it.”

He starts to, and his smile grows. He glances back up at you. “You wrote me a poem?”

“Just a little haiku.” You gesture at him to keep reading while you start to pack up your things. The alarm bell just tolled for the end of class, and you have another job to get to.

Jason’s eyes lower back down to the looping scrawl of your handwriting. His smile deepens into a smirk.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

He stares at your words for a while. He rereads the last line a few times.

By the time he looks back up, your bag is packed and you’re standing, ready to go. You smile at him.

“See you on campus,” you say. “I also work at the Writing Center, if you ever need a spruce up on your essays.”

“Can I get you to rewrite my history paper?” he teases.

“Make an appointment,” you counter, still with that smile. “And we’ll see.”

You leave the faculty lounge, and Jason feels a suspicious jolt in his heart.

Something he immediately feels guilty about. 

Because the real reason he came back to Kansas is to continue his summer fling with Lana Lang, a senior at Smallville High. 

Well, to him, it’s not a fling. He used to think it was as close to love as he’s ever been. Recently though, he’s been getting the sense that she’s still hung up on her not quite ex, Clark Kent.

That’s not even the most complicated part.

She’s 18, and Jason’s barely 20, but their relationship could still one day be the reason he loses his job…

And maybe, any chance he might have of being friends with someone like you.

AN: Lol no shade to my sciences, history, and math people! Just creating a character. Let me know what you think! 😉

And if you liked this...

Read the Sequel!

Check out "Miss Professor" to continue reading. ❤️

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[anzulvr]

i really like your writing so i was wondering if you could write karma with a s/o who appears to be super soft and shy but is secretly a huge delinquent. like maybe someone insults karma and they just go off on that person with insults till there crying, idk i just thought the idea was silly. take your time and feel free to ignore this request if you’re uncomfy ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶

Karma x sweet (secretly delinquent) Reader!

Thank you for requesting and thank you for liking my writing!! You’re so sweet! This was super fun and sorry this took so so long!! (I have a lot to get to still so to anyone reading im sorry if I haven’t written yours yet!!)

— Your kindness is one of the things Karma likes the most about you, he admires it in a way.

— It’s one of the things the entirety of class E admires about you really.

— It wasn’t often you got into big arguments and fights and no one had really seen you like that, not until today atleast.

You and Nagisa walked past the main campus on your way home together. Even though you were an class A student you and Nagisa hung out frequently, it was something many of your peers looked down at you for; they didn’t understand how you could still be friendly with people after they dropped to end class. They especially didn’t understand how on earth you could be dating Karma Akabane- the end class student with undoubtedly the worst reputation.

Like all relationships, dating Karma didn’t come with only good and you had your issues along the way. What’s surprising though, is most of the issues didn’t even come from Karma himself but from the nosy students of the main campus.

They’d make up lies about how you’re only dating him because you’re scared or gossip about how sad it is to see an A class student so desperate they go for one of the school’s rejects.

You never really say anything not wanting to argue; that was until today.

“Right? [Name] has to be an total idiot to believe that psycho actually likes them.”

“Karma is such a pain, he’s E classes wannabe savior. Can you believe he beat Ren up for messing with some E class girls.”

“That entire class is worthless to society [name] needs to get their boyfriend in check.”

That was enough to drag you off the ledge but before you could confront them Nagisa stopped you

“[Name], who cares what they think lets keep going.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

You were about to drop it until they mentioned you directly “look there’s [name] now with another Eclass low life.”

“Guess the Psycho wasn’t enough for them.”

at this point they’re laughing about it until you walk up to them and they get serious.

20 minutes later you’re all still fighting and everyone is down eachothers throats. Minus Nagisa who is awkwardly looking around as if he were a lost puppy talking back once in a while to back you up.

(I know Nagisas a little crazy too but he’s letting you take this one. He had a long enough day already 😭)

“Hey what’s-” Karma who seemingly appeared out of nowhere is now behind you both and stops mid sentence when he notices you’re arguing with someone.

Before he can finish his sentence one of the girls goes “we’re done keep living your miserable ass life and stay away from us [name].” They both start to leave before anyone else can reply and when Karmas about to say something you stop him

(NOT IN A : this isn’t you😕😕 way LMFAOO JUST IN A “let’s go it’s a waste of time” way)

“Damn.. just as I was about to start recording..”

➤

On you’re way back Karma asks what that was all about.

Nagisa replies for you “[Name] got into a fight over you.”

“Over me?”

“Yeah they were talking crap about you and [Name] got all heated.”

You can practically see the devil horns form on his head

“Really [name]? I didn’t know I had that effect on you! That’s so cute.”

Nagisa shuts up again ambling along wondering what Karmas definition of cute is.

“Oh please, it wasn’t over you! They were being so arrogant it pissed me off.”

“Rightt and it had nothing to do with them talking about you’re precious boyfriend?”

“Precious is the last thing I’d call you.” You say feeling your face heat up

He spends the rest of the way poking fun at you for getting angry on his behalf calling you his “knight in shining armor”.

He thinks it’s cute you’re willing to stand up for him. He’d do the same for you any day.

(<3 sorry for any typos I try to edit before posting but I always miss something haha)

[blue-jisungs]

daydreamin’

song inspo. daydreamin’ by ariana grande

a/n. i actually ro wanted to write this ever since i saw soobin lipsyncing this song on that one radio show <\\3 also experienced with the lil layout gif thingy ++ blond soob !!!!!!!!

oh and it’s my first post for the july jam session event so enjoy!! check it out to see what’s going on teehee

summary. soobin walked in and simply caught your attention… you would have never guessed how it would end

warnings. cursing + reader is kind of awkward but it’s cute tho <\3

you were sitting in your class, the professor being more boring than usual. it was nearly 20 minutes past 8am when the door slammed open and someone walked in, grey hoodie thrown over his blond hair. he walked hesitantly, long legs making small steps.

your eyes lingered on him, you couldn’t help but admit that he caught your attention.

“sorry for being late, the traffic…” the stranger spoke out, awkward smile plastering on his plush lips. your heart skipped a beat upon that sight.

“alright, soobin. just sit somewhere” the professor let out a disappointed sigh. soobin. what a cute name.

before you realised, he caught you staring. eyes growing wide, he smiled cutely which resulted in his dimples showing. could this guy be any cuter?!

he sat next to you, a bit awkward and stealing glances at you every once in a while.

after the class finished, soobin grabbed his bag and left the room hurriedly. he didn’t notice his pencil case falling out.

you picked it up and left a scoff, amused by the bunny shaped case. what a guy. you’ll give it back to him on the nearest occasion.

you haven’t seen soobin for the next day too. which didn’t mean you haven’t thought about him. it was crazy how a guy that you sat next to during one lesson had you so whipped.

resting your chin on your palm you were deep in thought, daydreaming about him. it was weird, you knew but he was so cute! you couldn’t help it. his awkwardness made him even more adorable, constantly on your mind. you recalled the way he walked, a little stiff but sweet in a way.

playing with the bunny pencil case with your free hand you huffed. suddenly you heard someone’s shushed whispers.

“–insane?! i tell you, you are. go see a doctor!”

you turned around slightly and noticed… soobin. he was talking with a friend of his. soobin’s ebony eyes were sparking with mischief, a silly smile blooming on his face.

“i’m literally not! and don’t look at me like that!” he huffed, soft lips forming into a pout. he crossed his arms and looked away from his friend, eyes meeting yours.

you quickly turned around and hid the pencil case. you still need to give it back to him.

a smile crept on your face. the way he talked was so cute, too.

you walked to the library, passing soobin in the hallway. he was too good looking for his own good… and you still had to return the bunny case he lost.

finally finding a place to occupy you sighed, taking out your stuff. putting your headphones in and shuffling a random song you failed to hear approaching footsteps.

a sigh left your mouth when you finally sat down, with your chin in the plan of your hand. you noticed the small bunny doodles you made on a exercise sheet and just shook your head.

suddenly you felt an arm on your shoulder.

letting out a surprising yelp, you turned around only to meet soobin’s heart warming grin.

“hi”

you took out your headphones, the random ariana grande’s song that played going quiet.

“hi” you smiled back, unable to look away from his dimples.

“i uh… i noticed you have my pencil case”

your smile dropped, eyes widening in realisation. fuck. shit. you look like a weirdo now.

you started rummaging through your bag in order to find it, your own belongings almost flying in the air everywhere.

“i… uh… sorry! i promise it’s not what it looks like! you dropped it and– and i wanted to give it to you, i swear but you just… i just… didnt–” you rambled nervously. soobin laughed.

your heart skipped a beat upon hearing that angelic sound and that’s when you saw the bunny pencil case at the bottom of your bag.

“i was too shy” you added quietly, wanting to hand him back his property. mentally you already said goodbye to any chances with him and only daydreaming about what ifs but soobin was already sitting down next to you.

“i understand, truly. i was a little bit pissed because my friends wouldn’t lend me any pens so for the past few days i wasn’t taking notes…” he hummed hesitantly, his large hand brushing ever so slightly against yours when he grabbed the bunny case from your hands “… so would you mind lending me your notes? we can grab, uh, coffee too… if you’d like”

“no! i mean yes! i mean, uh… fuck” you let out a sigh, blood hitting your cheeks from embarrassment. soobin just smiled wildly, amused “i meant it as in no, i wouldn’t mind and yes, i’d love to. grab coffee, with you”

“it’s a date then. shall we go?” he asked, tilting his head.

“o-oh. now? sure” you nodded and before you walked away, stunned, soobin reminded you about your belongings laying on the floor. he helped you pick them up too, stealing glances at your cutely flushed face.

“–y/n? she’s gone. like gone gone” beomgyu sighed, snapping his fingers in front of your face. you blinked slowly, looking confused at soobin. he just smiled tenderly “oh, not anymore. welcome back i guess”

“what were you…?” soobin hummed. he knew it well: the way you rested your chin on the plan of your hand, faint smile on your lips. he knew but still…

“daydreamin’” you giggled “about you… you… and only you”

“you’re so gross. get a room!” beomgyu pushed you slightly – but not with too much force – causing you to plop onto your boyfriend’s lap. soobin chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

txt masterlist | event masterlist

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @elviransworld  ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

[tieflingkisser]

Kansas City Chiefs Kicker Tells Graduating Women to Get in the Kitchen

“I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother," Harrison Butker said in a commencement speech.

Harrison Butker, a kicker for the Kansas City Chiefs, on Sunday addressed the graduating class of Benedictine College, the Catholic liberal arts school known for forcing a queer-identifying basketball player to remove a Pride flag from his dorm. The 28-year-old spent his allotted 20 minutes encouraging students to denounce “dangerous gender ideologies,” and “the tyranny of diversity, equity and inclusion.” Bold of a man who’s only six years older than the average graduating student and identifies as “@buttkicker7″ on Twitter to tell young people how to live their lives but what else is new? “I think it is you, the women, who have had the most diabolic lies told to you,” Butker said. “Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world but I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world.” In a country where forced birth is the law of the land? Nothing gets a 22-year-old who’s just shelled out $34k a year on tuition more hyped than the notion of the certificates in their hands collecting dust in lieu of caring for screaming kids. “I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother,” Butker went on. (Why let your wife speak for yourself when you, a man, could speak for her, eh?) “I’m on this stage today, able to be the man that I am, because I have a wife who leans into her vocation.” You reading this Sheryl Sandberg? Insurrection Ken gets to kick a ball over and over again because his wife leaned in. Butker continued—whilst choking up, I might add—saying, “I’m beyond blessed with the many talents God has given me, but it cannot be overstated that all my success is made possible because a girl I met in band class back in middle school would convert to the faith, become my wife, and embrace one of the most important titles of all: homemaker.” Not to be dramatic, but I’d rather be dead than hear that my entire existence was reduced to the key that unlocked a man’s potential. Considering the school’s tenets and reputation, Butker’s remarks were not particularly surprising, and it wasn’t like he was booed off the stage. Regardless, I’m not a praying person, but I am most certainly having a word with the big they upstairs about this man’s downfall before bed tonight.

[joviepog]

EEE HI JOVIE again i love love your writing and im so glad youve been enjoying my stuff!! anyway, sweet and simple request-- wilbur and reader having an at home dinner night :)) (if u wanna make it silly tommy could be their "waiter" LMAO)

much love !!

EEK I LOVEE THIS IDEA! ITS SO SIMPLE BUT SO GOOD AHHHHHH

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Lovely night

Who: Wilbur x f!reader

Warnings: i dont think there is anything but if there is just let me know!

Pronouns: She / they

Word count: I have no clue

Requests: @poraphia

Anything’s else: I actually liked how this turned out! thanks for the idea lovely requester!

This story is NOT proofread

Listen to this while you read! <3

Both you and Wilbur aren’t the richest people around. For you, this was absolutely fine. But for Wilbur?

Well, Wilbur is just a bit disappointed about not being able to spoil you as much as he wants. Since you both have met, he’s been obsessed with getting you little gifts and taking you to cute dates. But what he really wants to do is to be able to take you to the fancy restaurant down the street from your guy’s apartment.

He’s told you about this little problem of his and you cant help but giggle every time he mentions it. The conversation always ends with a kiss on the cheek and the same six words. “Wil, i dont need all that!” But lately he wont stop talking about it. He’s been daydreaming about you in a fancy dress and him in a fancy tux. Not the old cheep one he has for all those dumb occasions. No, he wants to be able to give you a bouquet of roses and a ring that means forever. But most of all, he wants to make you happy.

You’ve noticed that this was starting to get to him. Every time you got home he would give you a kiss and a hug -per usual- then he would start talking about this dress he saw on twitter and how beautiful it would look on you. “And that dress would be perfect for that restaurant!” And every time you say that you dont need all that, he looks like a kid being rejected of a puppy.

And so, you set up a plan. While he was gone on tour, you saved up, took cooking classes, and learned how to do your best makeup possible. You called him up one night, “Hi Wil! Are you busy?” There was a slight pause and he spoke quietly, “No, i just have to be quiet.” You gave a soft laugh and spoke quietly. “I just wanted to make sure i have the right day for when your coming back.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Why?” You pouted, “Why? What, I can’t miss my boyfriend?”

He apologized at least 100 times before he woke Joe up. You said hi to Joe and hung up. “I love you Wil. See you soon?” You asked with a smile. “See you soon.” You hung up and silence fell on the room. You had 1 more week. You bought the dress he had mentioned 1,000 times, you made sure Tommy was free, and you made sure the house was clean. You were ready.

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“I’m two hours away.” he spoke and you could hear the boys in the back teasing him.

you fake sighed, “I guess i’ll just wait here. all alone, and sad, and-“

he stopped you, “Yeah i’ll try to hurry up.”

“No take your time, darling.”

he sighed, “All i want to do is get home and hug you.”

“Aweeee.” you put another fake eyelash on, “I miss you too baby.”

“Wilbur! The taxy is here!”

you laughed and he scoffed, “I’ll see you soon darling.”

“See you soon.” you hung up and looked at yourself in the mirror. you looked amazing. you hair was fixed, and the dress fit nicely just like wilbur said it would. everything was perfect.

2 hours: Tommy got there with a suit and a tie that was ties badly

1 hour 30 minutes: You and tommy set the table and clean the house. you fail to figure out how to tie tommy’s tie

1 hour: you start dinner and Tommy calls phil to help him tie his tie.

30 mins: you finish up dinner and you get out wilbur’s favorite wine

20 mins: you double check everything for 10 minutes

10 mins: you wake up Tommy from his nap and cehck to make sure you look good.

5 mins: you triple check that you look okay and you serve the food.

1 minute: You light the candles

0 mins: You hear a knock.

“Is that him?!?” you say with a cheerful smile. Tommy smiles, “No it’s the mailman.” he jokes. you roll your eyes and open the door. Wilbur has the biggest smile on his face and he’s holding flowers. You close the door behind you, not wanting to ruin the surprise, and jump into his arms. he gives you small kisses all around your face and neck; your giggling at his touch. he finally lets you go and you were so excited to see his reaction.

His eyes widen at the sight of you in the dress and he begins to ask questions. “YN? Where did you-“ you stopped him and grabbed his arm, interlocking your arm in his. you yelled out to tommy, “Ready!” tommy opens the door and the smell of delicious food swept through the door.

The sight of warm lighting and wine glasses were shows on the small table. Warm jazz music was playing and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of Wilbur. His mouth was agape and his eyes completely widened. He turned to look at Tommy, who had his hair slicked back and a napkin on his arm (still holding the door open he cleared his throat.) “Welcome Mr. Gold and Ms. LN. I have your table ready right over there. He nudged his head towards the table and you and Wilbur walked in. Tommy quickly close the door and pulled out the chairs for both you and Wilbur.

Wilbur sat down, still in shock, and looked at his plate. Tommy spoke up, “You see, we already served you food because your girlfriend here, preordered. Wilbur laughed and Tommy grabbed the wine glass. “Tell me when to stop.” He started to pour the wine and Wilbur told him to stop about halfway, you did the same.

“Anything else?” Tommy asked.

“That’ll be all. Thank you.” Tommy winked at you and nodded his head. As he walked away you turned back to Wilbur. “So?” His mouth is still slightly open but soon enough, his cheeky smile appeared back on his face.

“Well, i feel like I’m a bit underdressed.” You both laughed and spent the rest of the night talking while Tommy took photos of both of you.

What a lovely night.

[venusloveslobotomies]

Kyle and Kenny x reader meeting

(all characters aged up to 18-20)

Kyle:

“Oh! God… fuck!” You haphazardly wiped your keyboard before the water could seep further in. Bebe snorted and you smacked her, trying not to laugh.

“Girl, what is going on with you? You’ve been all distracted since lab this morning?”

“I knowww.” You groaned, “I keep thinking about how much work that class is going to be.” Wendy rolled her eyes playfully.

“We all know that it’s because Kyle’s in that class and your hoping to be his partner.” She sang at you, taking another bite of her salad.

“No… no. Why would you think that?” You closed your laptop, looking away.

“Y/N, it’s ok! Kyle’s actually really nice. Just a bit standoffish to girls. He’s got trust issues, thanks to Eric.” Wendy tried to reason.

“Yeah, no shit. He won’t even look at me.”

“He’s just insecure! I bet if you asked him out-“

“Absolutely not!” You interrupted Wendy, “I can’t even talk to him normally! How am I supposed to ask him out? I’ve never been good at talking to guys! Let alone someone who’s actually smart and attractive, like Kyle.” Your comments were met with silence, actually, more like barely-held-down laughter, “What?” Bebe stared pointedly to your left. You mentally cursed yourself a million times before glancing carefully where Bebe had indicated. Stan and Kyle stood there, bags and books in hand. Stan was smirking at Kyle and Kyle had looked up and away from you.

“Kyle, you should be Y/N’s lab partner! She’s really smart! And nice!” Wendy quipped, quickly breaking the tense silence.

“Uhm, what? Oh! Yeah, sure. If… uhh… she wants to.” You stared down at your water bottle, feeling the awkwardness in your teeth. You could feel the girls looking at you before Wendy responded,

“She would love to.”

Kenny:

You leaned against the wall, watching Craig blow smoke into Tolkien’s face, making him cough while the rest of you laughed.

“Goddamn… Fuck off.” Tolkien coughed at Craig.

“You should’ve driven us to KFC, man.” Craig shrugged.

“Your lunch is almost over anyways, we’ll go after Y/N’s last class.”

“Sweet!” You smiled excitedly.

“So… Y/N…” Tolkien looked at you mischievously.

“Soooo what?” You responded, taking a drag of Craig’s joint.

“I heard Mccormick wants to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Craig snorted and Tolkien smacked his arm before continuing, “Stan told Wendy and Wendy told Bebe, who told Clyde, that he’s wants to talk to you in your English class.” You furrowed your brows at him and sighed.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out. Doesn’t he, like, hoe around a bit?”

“That’s what it seems like, but he’s a good dude. Much nicer than Cartman. I honestly don’t know why they hang out.” Craig huffed. You nodded and shrugged as you checked the time. 12:49. English class. You guessed you would find out what the hell was going on in about ten minutes.

“Ok, I gotta roll. See you guys at 4? Tolkien’s car.” They all made various sounds of assent as you wandered through campus to your class.

As you sat down next to Jimmy and pulled out your notes, you heard someone pull out the chair to your right. Looking up, you realised it was Kenny… with is hood down for once.

“Hey…” He sat down and began tapping his foot nervously.

“What’s up?” You asked, leaning back in your chair.

“Well, I missed yesterday’s class and I need some help catching up. Can you, like. Uhh… maybe help me out? I just missed, like, all of the stuff about the essay topics and requirements.” He seemed to be looking everywhere but at you. And you knew damn well that stuff was all on the Powerpoints.

“Sure, why not. My place, tomorrow? Just bring me coffee and its a deal.” You figured you may as well take what he said at face value. He seemed to have lost his laid-back and confident facade.

“Awesome! Uhh. Just let me know what time.” He gave you a bright smile and pulled out his notebook as the teacher started the lesson.

pls pls be nice, i havent ever written for south park before but i want to get back into writing <3