#I hadn't thought abt that before

[aphverse-confessions]

The fandom loves to take Levin and Malachi from Aph and give them to other characters (usually Garroth and Laurance) in their rewrites, and it makes me uncomfortable.

It reminds me of early Owl House discourse where people were convinced Camila was an abusive mom and wanted Eda to adopt Luz. That was tied up in a lot of white favoritism, and I feel similar vibes with Aph. Can we just let one of the only canon poc characters keep her children please?

Like I get it, it’s clear from the original series that the kids are close with Garroth and Laurance, but that doesn’t mean they need to actually literally adopt them, because reminder they already have two moms! That’s regardless of if you ship Zoeymau or not, because it’s clear in the original series that they see both Aph and Zoey as parental figures. Focusing on their lack of father figures honesty feels sexist to me. Aph and Zoey are doing fine raising Levin and Malachi during season 1, they don’t need any help.

[ohhamlet-art]

Two sides of Last Christmas

—"Yes, I'm really here. I'm back. Now get inside the TARDIS. I don't want you to talk, I want you to do as I ask. Please." // —"The TARDIS is outside." —"So?" —"So all of time and all of space, sitting out there in a big blue box. Please. Don't even argue."

[izzy-b-hands]

Going on almost week fucking three of a lot of days not going my way and im starting to get a little frustrated*

*fucking furious

[reanimatedgh0ul]

me when start having dp related thoughts again

[mouldyshoe]

Just realized that Gabriel knows about the appearance swap (if he kept the memories of his time as Jim after he got his GabrielMemories back, which i assume he did) because Crowley tells Jim in the window scene about the last time they met (during the appearance swap hellfire murder attempt). So,,, thank god he ran away with beelz and he was forever changed by the power of love or whatever.

[mastermindmp3]

Submitted for evidence for today's minutes: a dialogue between department member Cassandra (queendomkey) and Swift-by-Osmosis and honorary member Jean, who lacks a tumblr. Because they have a real life, or something.

Jean began the dialogue by bringing to motion a quote from My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys:

Jean: You can take this as a metaphor for him giving her attention or, for treating her roughly or, for taking her virginity... There's just such a tone there that feels like a loss of innocence, that she's still kind of clinging to the illusion of through the extended metaphor of being a toy.

J: It feels like grieving for the inner child stolen by a man who chose to play with a young girl's heart and throw it away.

Cassandra: Oh! I like that!

J: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys rips my heart out and stomps on it, and this one line [is why] "cause he took me out of my box" That's it. That's it. The delivery sounds like she's [going to] cry. Like the speaker is so unwilling to let go of this man because he was the first one that made her feel wanted... Even if he uses her and breaks her, he's still her first and that means more to her than it does to him.

C: It’s also the only song on the album (outside of the title track) to use the word tortured.

C: I feel like that's tied to the ways that girls are made to grow up faster, to take the stones thrown by boys who 'love them.' Her heart has been tortured before the song happened ( he stole her tortured heart, after all, he wasn't a part of this torture. ) and so she's come to, in a way, accept this kind of treatment. Clings to it like a toy, like a childhood object.

J: Exactly. Especially through the metaphor that she is the toy. This man-- older than her by implication-- was still immature enough to treat her as an object, and she accepted that role. Because that's what boys do: they pull your pigtails because they love you, and girls don't make a scene, so they might as well be passive objects."

C: Yes.

C: Changing topics a little, "took me out of my box" can be seen as syndeoche for like... making her experience something new, pushing her out of her comfort zone. I think a lot of the songs in TTPD are songs that are specifically about feelings in the moment, rarely with hindsight.

(At this point, Jean paused the discussion to research 'syndeoche,' referring to Cassandra as a "Well read motherfucker." xoxo.)

Jean pointed out that this can be read as a dramatic irony, as the audience knows the speaker's infatuation won't last, that they are in denial of what's to come.

J: [The speaker is] a girl we've all known or been before. Someone you'd drive away if you'd tell her you think he's bad for her, but you just want to hug her.

The conclusion:

Jean sees the song as "An exercise in empathy for a person people often snap to judge in real life." That, those in the Speaker's life may need to be "someone she can talk to without being judged while she works through those feelings in her own time. Someone safe that won't lecture her and drive her back to the unsafe one."

Cassandra believes that My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys is "A desperate song underneath it's toy-like trappings." After all, the Speaker has rationalized that her Boy only runs because he "loves her," that he only breaks his favorite toys. Leaving half moon imprints on her Boy's thigh, as the Speaker clings to a love that no longer exists. Though it's hard, being able to empathize with her is something the song pushes us to do.

[tonyglowheart]

reading thru old meta posts on qian qiu and there's like, some stuff I agree with sure but there's also a lot I don't lol. w like yan wushi especially. there's a lot of. I think too much conventional-mindedness in approaching yws even from the ppl who did like him as a character. saying he's a difficult character, and is meant to be a difficult character, but then still framing him along more conventional moral frameworks. yet another apartment 'complex'? strange, I find it quite simple moments.

[theradicalace]

figuring out dynamics between characters and abruptly drew some parallels between them and potential interactions and dynamics that i had not previously considered that made them all so much more interesting than they ever were individually

[wtfaniii]

oneshot in-ho x reader whos a player not bc of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun? in-ho falls in love w her and protects her during the games (he knew abt her as he had stalked gi hun and his team duh)

thank u🙏🏻

Just when I read this I had just uploaded a one-shot more or less with that theme of the researcher girl.

I love it, thanks for reading🤎

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Paparazzi

Summary: A private detective that Gi-hun had hired to investigate those games he participated in three years ago, is taken against her will without knowing that a certain man with power and money knew absolutely every detail about her.

Warnings: Just some harassment from this sexy man, violence and inappropriate language. Also, I made a modification to one of the games so that the reader could be with them

Note: Your wishes are my command! Orders will remain open and I will try to respond as soon as possible.

Her job was supposed to be just to do some research, collect names, dates and addresses, but fate had other things in store for she.

—Form lines to advance! It will be harder for the puppet to detect you that way —Gi-hun shouted to the players who were still alive after that massacre.

The girl was shaking uncontrollably. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to get behind someone and now the doll was in her sights. Her hands didn't stop moving and clearly noticed how one of the weapons from heaven was pointing at her.

—Please... —She whispered shakily, yeah... maybe she was a coward but it's only because survival is not his specialty.

"Player 455" heard one of the guards through his communicator, he aimed directly at the head of the trembling girl but before pulling the trigger he heard the voice of his leader "Don't shoot, let her continue" and without protest he obeyed him order.

In a gilded room, with a huge screen in front of a single sofa and a small table next to it, rested the man who led and maintained order in these games.

Drinking a little more whiskey, In-ho kept his eyes on the screen and with the remote control he focused on player 455, the poor girl was terrified, it was not the first impression he expected from her after having read her entire file.

He had read that she was a great detective, top of her class, she was cunning, intelligent, and had a couple of master's degrees completed, but seeing her afraid of dying almost made him laugh.

It was amazing how being face to face with death changed people.

—Nobody shoot her —he added over the radio without taking his eyes off the screen.

He could see the girl's confusion at seeing thatwas still alive despite moving very slightly.

In-ho knew everything about her, he knew what she was weak on, her strengths, weaknesses, her way of operating, he even knew about that beloved cat she had in his childhood and died of old age.

He had taken the time and dedication to investigate even the smallest details about her, it was the least he could do after almost discovering his identity.

The detective was so close to discovering the entire empire of these games that he had to be her brought together with Gi-hun by force so as not to let her finish the task.

He twisted his lips as the whiskey vanished and the first game, green light, red light, was over.

He didn't want her dead, or at least not for now, until he knew a little more about her, one could almost say that she had the potential to be part of this if she weren't so correct.

He put on his mask and went to the control center.

[...]

Just as she thought, some players approached Gi-hun for advice for the next game, there were only those who believed in his words because some others called him a 'liar'.

Among them was player 001, whose name was claimed to be Young-il. He was no fool, he wouldn't say his real name without being sure how much information she had about all of this.

As night fell in the bedroom everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for the girl who was sitting in the middle of her bed playing with his pillowcase, folding it over and over again and then unfolding it and repeating the same act.

—Are you having trouble sleeping? –001 asked, approaching her, who shifted a little and made room on the bed for him to sit next to her.

—My head works better at night... —She murmured, looking at him and smiling friendly.

He looked down at her hands and how the moved on the pillowcase, her were precise and firm. —You know how to tie good knots.

She had many talents and In-ho knew them all.

Or well, almost all of them.

Her ability to tie excellent knots was developed by her father, who was captain of a fishing boat that she also sailed on from time to time.

They locked gazes again in silence. In-ho considered that long-distance photos were nothing compared to being face to face with her. For two years he had been investigating her, he had sent several guards to follow her closely for one reason only. At first considered her a threat. Her intelligence and curiosity could have unmasked him, but then he started following her out of routine.

Afterwards he just kept his gaze on her out of habit and finally he had her face to face.

—What's wrong? —She asked with a frown as noticed the intense gaze on his person.

—Nothing, you should rest, we must have energy for tomorrow's games.

When he was about to stand up and go to his respective bed but she stopped him by holding his hand. The girl, seeing his inappropriate act and with more confidence than she should have, quickly let him go. —Can we keep talking? Honestly... I'm too distressed to sleep right now.

—Of course...

The two continued to talk about trivial matters for a couple more hours, they tried to keep it low so as not to wake up the other players but every now and then they received an annoying 'shhh' from someone nearby who longed to be able to sleep peacefully.

Until she finally fell asleep with head resting on In-ho's shoulder, he didn't move, instead, he let her sleep and settled down so they could both rest better.

The next day, during the next game, they formed teams of six people.

Once they were all together, along with a pregnant woman named Jun-hee with the number 222, they sat on the floor as ordered and shared the games.

The activity was to play a series of games and each time they won they could advance, all this with their feet tied together.

It would be simple, each one was good at something and that made it easier for them to continue, they were the last players to participate which was good for the girl, so she wouldn't get nervous under the gaze of the other participants and as if heaven conspired in his favor one of the games was about making a rhombus with a rope.

—I did it! —She shouted euphorically showing the perfect rhombus in her hands made with rope and on the first try, the guard made a circle and the voice said "pass"

The others celebrated with her as they advanced, until now they achieved the games at the first opportunity and had plenty of time but when they reached the part where they had to spin a top on the ground Young-il lost his sanity after so many failed attempts.

As she bent down to pick up the top once more and wrap it in the string 001 began to curse and beat himself.

—What the hell is happening to me? I can't do anything right! I'm useless —She looked at him startled every time he hit himself, until she interrupted him by slapping on the left cheek, managing to silence him and making his head turn just a little.

In-ho's fake drama to scare them was going great until this sudden blow happened, he didn't expect it but there he was, looking at her with surprise and astonishment.

—You have to calm down! —She shouted, handing him the already finished top. —Try it again and if we die I swear I'll kill you.

He nodded and took the toy, she used those words to lighten the mood and try to give him confidence (which of course she did) but eyes don't lie and her gaze begged him to do it, she didn't want to die.

Miraculously he managed to spin the top and they moved on to the last game which Gi-hun was about to lose if it hadn't been for In-ho, although the last move was not correct he shouted "he did it" this being a small order camouflaged for the guard to give the affirmative signal.

They didn't know it but at that moment they would have died.

She was ignorant of this, she didn't know that if it weren't for In-ho she would already be dead since "green light, red light"

Unwittingly, In-ho saved her at every opportunity, protecting her life without realizing that perhaps following her had already become more than just a routine.

Little by little she got under him skin, first it was in his mind and now...

[kysstar]

MISSED BIRTHDAYS | KIM HONGJOONG

pairing : : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis : : due to the stress of the upcoming comeback, hongjoong forgets your birthday.

genre : : slight hurt-comfort, fluff

warnings : : suggestive ending maybe?

word count : : 1.2k

author's note : : wrote this while stressing abt my mafia au joong fic

—The studio was buzzing with energy, filled with the hum of unfinished tracks and the quiet murmurs of tired voices. Hongjoong had been glued to his screen for hours, making final adjustments for the upcoming comeback. The weight of expectations sat heavily on his shoulders, pushing everything else to the back of his mind.

"What's today's date again?" Seonghwa suddenly asked, flipping through some papers.

"Uh..." Hongjoong barely glanced up, reaching for his own phone to check. "It's the—"

His words trailed off. His heart sank as the realization hit him like a freight train. He stared at the date on the screen, eyes wide.

Your birthday.

The blood drained from his face. How could he forget?

Panic seized him. He shot up from his chair so quickly that his headphones clattered to the floor.

"Hyung?" Mingi blinked at him, confused.

"I—I gotta go!" Hongjoong stammered, grabbing his coat and shoving his phone into his pocket. "I'll explain later!"

The others barely had time to react before he was out the door, sprinting toward his car. His mind raced faster than his heartbeat as he navigated the streets, cursing himself with every red light. How could he be so careless? So consumed with work that he forgot one of the most important days of the year?

His first stop was the nearest florist. He nearly scared the poor shop owner when he burst through the door, panting. "I need flowers," he blurted out, barely able to catch his breath. "Something—something good. Beautiful. The best ones you have." The woman behind the counter gave him a look, but after a quick glance at his frantic expression, she sighed and grabbed a bouquet of fresh flowers.

His next stop was a bakery. He didn’t even check what cake he was buying, just pointed at one that looked remotely decent and hurriedly paid, not caring if it was overpriced. Every second felt like wasted time. He needed to get to you. Now.

As he drove, he fumbled for his phone at a red light, quickly glancing at his messages. His chest tightened at the empty screen. Not a single call. Not even a text from you. Nothing. He knew what that meant. You were mad. No, beyond mad.

Hongjoong clenched the steering wheel, his jaw tightening. He had been so caught up in everything—the comeback, the stress, the pressure—that he hadn’t even thought to check the date. Hadn't even thought about you. How could he let this happen? You had always been understanding of his schedule, always patient with him when work got too much. But your birthday? That wasn’t just another day. That was your day, and he had completely let it slip his mind.

By the time he reached your place, his pulse was hammering. With the bouquet in one hand and the cake in the other, he barely took a second to collect himself before knocking. The door creaked open, and there you stood, eyes widening in surprise.

“Joong?” You blinked, gaze flicking down to the flowers and cake before returning to his face. He looked wrecked—eyes slightly red from stress, lips pressed into a thin line like he had been holding his breath the whole way here.

“I—” He cut himself off, stepping forward. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe I forgot. I—” He swallowed hard, the guilt weighing on him heavier than anything else. “You have every right to be mad. I should’ve—”

“darling.” You stopped him with a small shake of your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay.”

He froze. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What?”

“I get it. You’ve been busy. You have so much on your plate already.” You stepped aside to let him in, and he hesitated before finally walking through the door. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a little,” you admitted, setting the bouquet down on the table. “But I know you. I know how much pressure you’re under right now. I didn’t expect you to drop everything for me.”

Hearing you say that nearly shattered him. His throat tightened as he watched you set the flowers on the counter, your smile still so gentle, so forgiving. You weren’t mad. You weren’t upset. And yet, somehow, that made the guilt eat away at him even more.

Before he could stop himself, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. His face buried in the crook of your neck, and for a moment, he just held you, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling the warmth of you against him. His grip tightened as he felt the prick of tears in his eyes.

"You should be mad at me," he mumbled, voice slightly muffled against your skin. "I forgot your birthday."

You sighed softly, running a soothing hand through his hair. "I don’t want to be mad at you. I just want you to take care of yourself." You pulled back slightly, just enough to cup his cheeks, brushing your thumbs against the soft skin beneath his eyes. His lashes fluttered as he looked at you, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I know you didn’t forget on purpose. I know you love me."

He let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. "I do. More than anything."

You smiled before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. His hands found their way to your waist, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie. When you finally pulled away, he chased after your lips slightly, reluctant to let go of the moment.

"I'm making it up to you," he said, determination replacing the guilt in his voice. "Tomorrow. I’ll take you anywhere you want."

You chuckled, poking his forehead lightly. "You have a comeback to focus on, Captain. You don’t have time for that."

"I don’t care," he insisted, pulling you closer again, his forehead resting against yours. "I’ll make time."

"You can make it up to me next time," you reassured him, pressing another gentle kiss to his cheek.

He groaned, clearly unhappy with your response, but he melted under your touch when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another hug. "I still feel horrible," he murmured, lips grazing the side of your neck as he pressed a soft kiss there.

"You can make it up to me right now," you teased, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. "Oh? Is that so?" His hands slipped under your hoodie, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns along your skin.

You hummed, leaning in to kiss him again, slower this time. "Mhm. Starting with another kiss."

And who was he to deny you that?

© kysstar

[insertdisc5]

not so quick question here, how did you feel abt the representation when writing it? like all the stuff with aro/ace Mira and trans Isa and such. even when writing representation of things that I am, I get really stressed that I'm doing it wrong and people are going to be mad at me.

you did so well with your game, btw. ISAT is my mental state and has been for almost a year now.

uuuh bad. i had the exact same thoughts as you, like ok yes i am some of those things but i can only put my own experience in the game, and also i am not some of those things so i can do my best to imagine what a character would act like in this situation but also what if i have made THE WORST FAUX-PAS POSSIBLE!?!?!?!

and the answer is ask someone that is part of the community what they think. ask them if you're doing a faux-pas. and even if you didnt, they might tell you about a facet of their experience you hadn't considered before that could make your story so much stronger. so thats one thing handled

and in the end yeah maybe you WILL do a faux-pas. but maybe you won't. and i am personally not a fan of "only talk about your own experience", because i have read some really insightful stories about women written by men, some really wonderful queer stories by cishet people, and some really good explicit fanfics by ace people. so like who cares. i think it's fascinating to read what someone think and see them put themselves in another space and dip a toe in The Other Side.

and thats without talking about the fact that sometimes, if you write about a community you don't think you belong in, that could be you working through some stuff. obviously, thats not always the case, but often if you're cishet and you're writing about queer stuff. then. perhaps? no. it can't be. unless...?

and fuck it sometimes you WILL do a faux-pas and people will be mad at you and it'll suck but you will learn to read beyond the anger and learn what you did wrong and do better next time. SO WRITE ABOUT WHATEVER YOU WANT AND DO YOUR BEST

[luvchaew]

moonlit lakes, fireflies, etc | yjw

sitting across from a young man on a train, you were sure you hadn't seen him before. not in this life at least. so why did his gaze make you so comfortable? why did his touch feel so familiar, so right?

“we'll meet again, young lady Jeong.” 𓈒𓈒 joseon dynasty prince 양정원 𖹭 joseon dynasty lady!reader, prohibited love, s2pl? wc𓈒 7.9k — maybe proofread ≛ ﹙ft. twice nayeon, idle miyeon, boa, mentions of enhypen jake﹚

here you'll find ౨ৎ fluff fluff fluff, past life, kinda time travel, paradoxes, angst (i tried guys go easy on me), they kiss once, jungwon is kinda obsessed, banter (except it's cute), mentions of kidnapping, killing, and whatnots, jungwon gets ‘spanked’ by his own family, male chauvinism bcs of the time it's based on (i do not support it of any kinds!), potential forced marriage, runaway attempts, ‘open’ ending.

[ ♬ 🏮 ] ——— this idea is something that i thought abt long ago but haven't had the opportunity to turn into words properly before. it is slightly inspired on ‘my demon’ (the past life stuff ofc) and i recommend listening to this song which also inspired me a lot! i really enjoy how this turned out so i hope you like it as much. this is my first kind of ‘long’ fic ever and if i'm lucky you're gonna enjoy it, hehe. xoxo 𖹭

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

Busan Train Station, 2025

immediately when you stepped on the wagon, a penetrating gaze found you.

somehow, it affected you more than the chilling air of trains that you claimed to hate more than anything.

it had been a terrible day. so bad that you were going to your personal escape — the Joseon Dynasty Tombs of a young Yang family Heir or anything you used to go with your godmother, all the time as a kid — at 11pm, to run away from the problems real life brought you.

you expected to find the train empty given the hour, like it had been many times before, but today you had company. normally you would have sat really far from the young, good-looking man that eyed you, but you didn't.

holding your heavy luggages, you sat across from him. your eyes didn't leave his face for a second, scanning his features, admiring his cat shaped eyes, almost feeling how soft his hair seemed to be.

you hadn't seen him before. never.

yet, he looked familiar. he looked safe. he looked like home.

during the two and a half hours ride, both of you didn't speak.

but there was no need to.

because your eyes did all the work, having a secret conversation you seemed to be awkwardly aware of.

you could imagine what his interest might've been, what kind of song he might’ve listened to, how his voice might have sounded, what his name could've been.

Surroundings of Deoksugung Palace, 1752 —— Joseon Dynasty

young master Yang. the start of all your troubles and also the end of your peace. it was a offense to our late King Gwanghaegun how handsome he was, however, you had already created a common sense that charming young masters used to be the pettiest.

“young lady Jeong!” he shouted your name, his tall figure waving in your direction smiling widely. if you weren't surrounded by a dense forest, you would've ran away. literally. “i figured you'd come here, it really is a pretty sunny day, isn't it?”

you were supposed to study today. your father told you that royal ladies had in their duties to understand the world and be aware of what threatened your daily lives — rival families and japanese invasions, for example. therefore, you walked towards the lake with a few texts from your favorite scribes tucked under your arms and your long hair braided simply, a ddanggi keeping it steady.

“i’m here to read today, okay? do not bother me, thank you in advance” you muttered, sitting down on the rocks by the lake with your back turned to him, trying to focus on the water current and how the sun reflected its sunlights on it beautifully, some fishes jumping on the water from time to time.

jungwon stared at you, but continued speaking, his voice coming to your ears like music, “my maid has been looking for me for about an hour, did you know that? thus, it's very thrilling.”

“you do know that my uncle wants to kidnap your father, don't you? haven't you got nothing better to do besides walk all the way here to bother me?”

“no?” he cleared his throat, blinking at you and settling himself closer, the semi-transparent hat that he always wore accentuating the height difference between you. “my mother yelled at me last time saying that if i came here again she'd lock me up, but i like to play with fire, you know?”

“because you'll be the next Joseon King and nobody can disagree with you, isn't that it?” you guessed, turning a page on your parchment, pretending to be interested in it when you were most certainly not. all of your five senses were focused on jungwon: on how close he was, on his warm and minty breath close to your ear, his legs nearly touching yours, his dimples looking so soft you wanted to touch it.

the worst part of meeting him wasn't even the 3-hour-lecture you were forced to hear after in the high-pitched voice that your mother had when possessed, but the way you lost all of your self control near him. the environment also didn't help. birds chirping, acacia leaves falling occasionally from the trees, sun rays reflecting on his skin as they were put there especially for jungwon.

“exactly! see, that's why you're nice to talk to, you comprehend— wait, did you hear that?” he shifted in his place, now suddenly looking behind you, eyes widening.

yes, you had heard it. noises, voices, screams that were closer each time. your heart beat faster, loud thuds in your ear.

“young master Yang, are you here? young master Yang!”

you turned to face him quickly, your head suddenly dizzy. standing up, you grabbed his long, muscular hands and rushed towards the other direction, entering the sea of trees you had in front of you. his fingers were sweaty against yours, and you were able to hear his uneven breathing behind you. from between the light tree trunks, a group of purple-dressed maid servants arrived on the place you'd just been, some of them panted from the jogging, while some were so mad they nearly let smoke out of their heads. they served jungwon’s family. they were after him, not you.

“you have to get out of here. go that way, i’ll distract them” you squeezed his hands, pointing discreetly to the direction he should follow. he looked at you, his pupils small from fear, and nodded silently. the panic was mutual, and even if you didn't like to agree with him, both of you were in danger now, finding out what could happen if you didn't react isn't something you're psyched about.

the occasions where jungwon's relaxed, easy going demeanor changed to a serious, clumsy one, were rare, and they left you wondering how that man would one day be the one to sit at the royal golden throne.

you watched him as he disappeared in the woods, his broad shoulders soon nowhere to be seen. however, the women didn't seem to intend to leave, and after some analysis, you noticed they had your book. they couldn't bring that to the Yang's Palace, or you'd be seriously in trouble.

“oh, hi! it’s a pleasure to encounter you on this alluring afternoon,” you muttered with practiced politeness, offering them an awkwardly-wide smile. the maids seemed not pleased at all to see you, some of them furrowing their eyebrows at you and some, worse, refusing to bow. “you have, um, my parchments, so if i could, by chance, get them back it'd be.. lovely”

you forced yourself to smile so much your cheeks hurt, fake honey dripping from your voice. the shortest maid — which you assumed to be the chief servant — shifted, analysing your books in what felt like an eternity, and finally handed them to you, the contempt in which she looked at you leaving your stomach in knots.

“i’m assuming you weren't at all with our young master, am i right?” she hissed, enunciating her words just enough to tell you she knew.

“y-yes, correct. haven't seen him in several weeks, actually”

some other woman chuckled mockingly, the undivided attention leaving you overwhelmed, a tone of red appearing on your neck. ‘they don't have evidence,’ was what you reassured yourself, despite your awareness that King Yang believed in whatever their maids said. he was known to be a very diligent man, but if there was something you admired in him was the trust he had in people. you could never.

“i guess i'll have to leave, unfortunately. if you hadn't come unannounced i would have invited you to a tea, but we didn't prepare anything whatsoever. au revoir!” you excused yourself, rushingly leaving the lake area and sprinting towards Deoksugung.

they looked at you amused. first, youth was truly lost, where was your respect at when you lied blatantly? second, how could you dare to speak french? your ancestors would be turning on their graves if they heard this.

evenings at the Palace were always monotonous. eunuchs didn't walk as much, royal chefs prepared simpler dishes, servants didn't had so many errands to run.

right now, you were curled up on the floor, a novel — that you shouldn't be reading because ‘ladies should be occupying their heads with something other than romance crap’ — in your hands as you tried to focus solely on those vertical words that no longer made sense.

you were fantasizing again about jungwon's hand in yours, his starry eyes looking in yours, the way he trusted you fully and whether he may or may not have gotten scolded way back home. or if he even arrived home in the first place, when a servant knocked on your door, maid Kwon right next to him.

“there’s an unidentified letter for you, young lady Jeong. i insisted that we shouldn't deliver it, but the eunuch told me to just be by your side as you read it.”

you nodded, fixing your wrinkled skirt and tossing the novel to the side, not even bothering to hide your ‘wrongful’ act. the servant bowed and left, leaving you alone with the friend that had been with you since you remember — perhaps she was the person you liked the most inside the Palace, although lady Cho would be deeply upset to hear that.

you unfolded the thin paper carefully, your heart beating faster than before since you recognized the handwriting immediately.

the same that sent you tiny notes telling about his new punishment or how his father let him do an important royal duty.

jungwon's.

Bo-Ah sat by your side, her blue and white hanbok resting next to your own dress, a suspicious grin adorning her features.

you tried to hide the letter from her, but there was no way she would let you escape this one. not when she understood who sent you that.

“Dear young lady Jeong,

i’m writing to you to express my gratitude for what you did today. can you believe that my mother didn't even question me about where i was? told you she's starting to trust me more!

also, on my way home, i think i found our new encounter spot.

if you'd like to accompany me, i’ll be going there tomorrow at 4.

meet me by the water well behind Deoksugung. see you there,

from the very handsome next King of Joseon.”

the next hours resumed in maid Kwon telling you that it was a terrible idea for you to go, your mind working nonstop to finding ways of leaving the castle in an hour you shouldn't — 4pm was exactly when you had to take a bath, and the last time this routine was delayed was your birthday, because you had a celebration going on — and on your loyal friend, lady Cho, your father's youngest concubine, managing to persuade the royal guards to let both of you out for a stroll around the Palace.

what they didn't know, of course, was that the stroll in question involved you meeting the Yang Jungwon.

the area behind Deoksugung was one of the prettiest, yet it was dangerous.

many hunters had been found mysteriously dead over the years, maybe because the Yang's also had access there.

but you preferred not to think about it, since you were currently entering that same territory to, ironically, hang out with the rivals’ heir.

“when do you want me to return so we can come back together again?” Miyeon gently asked as if she tried recalling it, your arms locked as you jogged around birds and squirrels.

you faced the light-blue sky for a minute, questioning yourself once more, “around 6 would be nice, right before sunset.”

the concubine nodded, her braided-full-of-ornaments hair graciously shifting in the wind. you didn't speak much, the sound of green leaves being stepped on the only thing you could hear.

however, that was until you saw jungwon at the well.

he politely made a reference to lady Cho, who excused herself with a beautiful-educated smile, and walked towards you, a playful grin resting on his face.

“you’re about 3 minutes late. you're well aware that the future King doesn't like to wait, aren't you?” you rolled your eyes, approaching him and walking side by side to his tall figure.

“save it for your servants, jungwon.”

“i beg your pardon?” he nearly choked, raising his tone of voice. you chuckled at the flabbergasted expression he turned to you, an offended sound leaving his throat. “when did i allow you to be this casual, y/n?”

you gasped, dumbfounded, “woah! i'm older than you, okay, jungwon? and since when have you known my birth name?”

“why? shouldn't i?” his hand found the small of your back, by which he guided you through the trees. you felt a shiver running through your spine, but tried to shake it off, muttering nonsense to him as a response.

you kept silent the rest of the way, his long fingers caressing the jeogori of your dress as a reminder that he was still there, steps in sync with yours. somewhere in between it, you raised your eyes to his neck, spot in which you noticed a deep bruise, the dark purple mark idling his skin. perhaps it had always been there or he could have fell on his way back.

“shut your eyes, y/n” he whispered, lips close to your ear, and you willingly did it, fluttering your eyelids close, not before nagging again about why you can say his name and he can't say yours.

jungwon brought another hand to your shoulders, keeping you steady as you walked towards what you assumed to be the aforementioned ‘new encounter spot’.

after a few steps, his feet seemed to settle, and with another whisper in your ear, “we’re here”, you got to open your eyes.

if his firm hands weren't still glued to your body, keeping you standing, you were sure you would have fallen.

it was, by far, the prettiest thing you've seen yet.

a mesmerizing, kilometers long field of daisies of all colors and peonies stood by you. the vast camp of flowers mixed with the grass as the sun lit nature up, clouds adding up to the view with its calm and slow movements.

jungwon tilted his head to look at you, and you closed your dropped jaw, gulping some saliva, “what, do you not like it?”

“no! i mean, yes.. no!” you stuttered, blinking up at him, “it’s perfect, really. how did you find it?”

“well, during my way back to the Castle, i may have gotten lost, and ended up here.” he explained, dimples showing up on his face as he smiled, satisfied. “shall we?”

he offered his hand to you, which, for some reason, you accepted, holding his palm in yours as you ran like kids towards the field, grass getting stuck on the hem of your dress in a so not discreet way. you giggled and yelled at the world, not caring about appearance, and for a second, it felt like you had conquered the world. conquered happiness. you soon got tired, and both of you threw yourselves on the flowers, crushing the petals with your weight, leaving evidence that you were there, for real.

it wasn't a dream, after all.

but here, sat up next to him, laughing out loud about something neither could figure out what, it sure felt like imagination.

“this is, like, my first time seeing a lady with not-braided hair.” he mused, pointing a finger to you, “you’re such a gross princess, Jeong y/n”

you ran a finger through your hair, noticing the disheveled state it was in. it was also your first time having unbraided hair in front of anyone besides your maids and mother. you should have been embarrassed, but you weren't, because feeling natural with jungwon looked so simple. so right. “oh my buddha— look at yourself first, your goreum is literally untied.”

he tilted his head slightly to look at you, the bruise now more visible, your gaze flying to it unconciously. “paying that much attention?” he teased, words light, but didn't move an inch. maybe he was too comfortable to tie it, which was alarming, or perhaps he just didn't care at all.

you rolled your eyes, insects and flies flying over you, making low buzzes that only added to the environment, “i’m already getting under your skin, huh, your royal highness?”

“yeah, you're one of my few pet peeves” he pouted, nodding, visibly content with the name you'd just called him by, looking like he would give you a compliment or something, ‘respecting your Majesty is a very noble act, young lady’

hours passed by, and shortly the sun was setting, its borders fading on the horizon as the sky marvelously adapted to a mix of orange and pink. both of you lay down on the grass, staring into the clouds, in silence for once, enjoying the world pretending there was no violence, no rivalry, no danger.

just the two of you.

Miyeon was briefly back to get you, and you couldn't ignore the eyebrow she raised catching both of you so close, admiring the universe with such calmness of who had years to do so. you gave a last glance at jungwon, who playfully grinned and whispered, barely loud enough for you to comprehend, “see you here again the day after tomorrow, same time?”

you stared at him for a while, but then nodded, a shy “two in the afternoon is better” leaving your throat. after the small change, you ran away with such embarrassment of who had just made a confession.

“no, look, i swear his jeogori undid naturally” you explained to lady Cho, voice strained, defensive, “what? no! i wouldn't sleep with a Yang, for the sake of the queen—”

two days later, you found yourself walking through the same woods, destined to the very same place.

today, you were accompanied by lady Im, who insisted she had to deal with some stuff downtown, though given the way her lips curled into a smirk often, you highly doubted it. she was your uncle's favorite concubine, but was also known for escaping the Castle on multiple occasions. for multiple different reasons.

well, Nayeon had to run some errands, and you wished to meet a person you surely shouldn't, it was a win-win situation, right?

“am i late?” you asked in reaction to his confused face, scanning you a few times, his hair already messy from the field and a small spider climbing his shoulders. you wouldn't tell him about it, though.

around the spot the spider climbed, you were able to have a peek of the soft skin below the thick fabric, and, for some reason, another deep bruise could be seen, this one already yellowish, a recent-looking scar next to it. it was probably nonse, and you should really stop looking, otherwise he'd ask you with that smug smirk why you were staring that much.

“not at all, just— what is that?”

“that what? oh,” you raised the basket you were holding up for him to observe, proudly smiling, “my royal chefs cooked some hodu-gwaja this morning, and as it's a speciality of Deoksugung, i thought i should offer you this one-in-a-lifetime experience”

“love the humbleness” he teased, although he made a sign for you to sit down, and when you did, the dark-haired boy rushed to the snacks you brought, picking up one and handing you another, “i’ve always wanted to taste these. they're pretty famous there, eunuch Park talks about gwajas all the time.”

your eyebrows raised. you were genuinely content with having done something for him, something he'd like. you watched him as he took the first bite, his cat eyes lighting up and dimples making presence on both sides.

“how is it? perfectly amazing?”

“i don't like to admit,” he took another bite, the walnut cream getting stained on his cheeks, “but, seriously, this is so delicious.”

you giggled, playfully punching the air in victory, and also dug in, breaking the walnut’s shell in two with your teeth, “it’s dirty, look, over here”

jungwon put his fingers on the apple of his face, trying to clean up his pale skin, except it was the wrong cheek.

you chuckled at him, nearly choking on your sweet, “no, the left cheek. how will you be the next leader of your reign if you can't even—?”

it would've been fine, but you decided to clean it up for him, your smooth skin rubbing his face softly as the creamy stains falling on the grass. his breath visibly hitched, a weird-kind of hiccup leaving his parted lips when your fingers lingered longer than they were supposed to. your eyes widened too, and you retrained your hand immediately, trying hard to laugh it off, “shy, huh?”

he awkwardly laughed too, though it was audibly forced, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

even if both of you didn't acknowledge it, for the rest of the afternoon, the tip of his ears continued pink and you talked way less, focused on fixing an ornament that stuck wrongly.

weeks had passed, and Hansik had just happened. you were supposed to be happy, because you enjoyed that spring festival more than anything, and moreover, the man your family wanted you to marry would be presented to you that very day.

you wanted him to be handsome, laid-back, easy to talk to, tall but not too much, the pointed black hat fitting his head perfectly, purple durumagi covering his broad shoulder in an unfairly good way, dimples so adorable and cheeks so soft you want to poke it.

perhaps, you wished for Jungwon. or an exact copy of him that you could marry without getting disinherited.

but you were too afraid of letting yourself acknowledge that, since wanting someone you can't have is something you don't want to be trapped into.

the real man wasn't like that whatsoever.

his figure almost matched your height, he was probably twice your age, his face full of wrinkles and a mustache so old-fashioned you swore you'd seen it on an old portrait of some late King.

if it already weren't the worst it could've been, he was extremely rude, and impolite, and didn't treat you like a person at all. you already knew that was your position on society ‘naturally’, however, marrying that man would mean you wouldn't have the opportunity to be heard. to be seen. to be yourself.

and to think that your own father wanted you to marry that, that your own mother was okay with it and even tried extra hard to please that.

you felt nauseous. wished you could punch that and leave a mark of blood on the smirk that had on its face. wished you could just run away.

perhaps that was why you sent jungwon a crumpled letter in the middle of the night, a mere “meet me there in an hour?” written, your rushed handwriting and the way your hands shaked noticeable even if few words were there.

you got off mid-night, earning pointed looks from guards, but you just couldn't bear to stay there anymore.

not when everyone around seemed a traitor, nor when lady Cho — who you trusted deeply — tried to convince you this was for the best.

walking towards the recently well-known woods, admiring how amazingly the moon lit everything up, you tried to reassure yourself that it was fine, because if that great bright light was still shining for you, the only reason was that there was hope, somewhere buried deep inside you.

when you arrived at the field, breathless from walking, jungwon was already there.

you broke down. completely.

your legs moved faster than your brain, the leather pastel-green shoes crushing daisies on their way, leading you to the only place you felt safe.

jungwon.

your heart pounded violently against your ribs, fluttering loud enough for someone to hear it. your lips parted slightly, maybe to say something, maybe just to breathe. your tongue felt too heavy. your mouth too unsure. so you just throw yourself in his embrace, hiding your vulnerable self into him, tears finally brimming down on your face. wrapping your arms around his neck, you touched it firmly, and with the tip of your fingers, you felt a thick scar, not even close to being cicatrized.

his face furrowed a little, mouth closing to a thin line, but he didn't say anything. just held you closer, wrapping an arm on your waist, keeping you grounded, otherwise you weren't sure you would keep standing. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, chest tightening after seeing your usual confident self in such a broken state. he had no idea what could've happened, but tapped your back lightly either way, comforting you. reassuring you. “y/n, breathe in three with me, yeah?”

your broken sobs soaked his shoulder, a damp of tears wetting his beautiful durumagi, and you forced yourself to look at him, a new knot in your throat threatening to release. slowly, you nodded, breathing in a large amount of air that almost got stuck in your glottis, however, he encouraged you, eyes focused on your face.

“that’s it. good. breathe out now, follow me.” his hand softly stroked your column, so gentle you wanted to cry further. with a frown of concentration in his face, accompanying the movements of your throat, following your gaze and staring directly into your eyes, you noticed what you shouldn't. jungwon was the one to look at you like a person.

not as a trophy wife or an heir generator.

but as you, Jeong y/n, the stubborn person that couldn't tie laces nor cook a simple bowl of rice. that preferred to read romance over politics and secretly wanted to wear pants just once since it looked like it felt nice.

jungwon seemed to comprehend all of that, and in a sudden move, you caught yourself telling him about everything. more than you should.

“and the man, he was—” hiccup, “not even nearly as handsome as you, and—” hiccup, “he called me ‘future housewife’ every single time he wanted to refer to me,” hiccup, “i can't— can't remember his name. my good almighty, he makes me nauseous. he's the worst person ever, he's—”

he just nodded through it, making questions midway to tell you he was listening, engaged. “and can't you tell your mother about it?”

you sadly chuckled, another single tear falling down your cheek, “tell her what? that i loathe the man she sweet-talked to all evening?”

“this whole situation is ridiculous. i don't understand why they'd want to do this with such a.. special girl like you.” he murmured, admitting something more to himself than to you, accepting a fact he never did before.

you mattered. if he was this mad right now, it's because you matter.

“no, it's— i shouldn't be this sensible, all my ancestors went through the same. my mother, my grandmother, my great grandmother. everyone” you played with your hanbok’s sleeve, facing downwards, sniffing occasionally after some words.

“that’s what i can't understand. why'd they want to do the same to you? have they been happy?” his voice broke just slightly, anger breaking through his vocal cords, fists clenched. “hey, look at me.” jungwon cupped your chin gently, tilting it up, forcing you to stare directly at him.

the emotions crumbled back at you again, since he was right. halmoni always complained about having to abandon her one genuine love and omma insisted that it ended up being nice, though only because she conceived you. why would they want to make you go through the same thing?

perhaps the lines had started to fade, or you were too tired, but you melted into his touch, eyelids heavy, whispering: “can we spend the night here? i don't want to go back to the Palace.”

he observed you for a minute, paying attention to your features, apparently making a decision, before nodding, expression calm. his forehead relaxed, a small smile curling on the corner of his mouth. with a smooth movement, he took the upper part of his lilac jeogori off, — what left your eyes agape for a split second — laying the coat down on the grass so you could sleep comfortably. he tapped the area with his hand, indicating that he wanted you laid down, and you willingly did it, the tension of the day starting to fade away.

jungwon settled himself by your side, some centimeters of distance between you, still touching legs.

yet, he seemed so far away.

you wanted him closer. and closer.

you were starting to lull when he spoke up again, voice quieter, careful. “may i suggest something? perhaps we could like.. run away, get married, live content together. just the two of us.”

you short-circuited. your almost calm head now full of thoughts, possibilities, doubts, and deep down, a futile sting of hope.

marriage. marrying jungwon. you were aware of those stupid promises, things Young Masters promised to trap Ladies, things they never stuck on. however, he seemed so genuine. so trustworthy.

were you this stupid?

it wasn't a prudent decision, you were sure of it, but the offer seemed so tempting, so right. and jungwon was the only person out there you knew that could make you happier, wasn't he?

in seconds, you found yourself thinking about it. actually pondering it.

“where would we.. go to?” you naively asked, eyes meeting his in a gaze that brought you a million sparks, his pupils a dark tone of brown, slightly dilated.

“there’s this reign that will be inherited by my colleague, Jaeyun, Young Master Sim. it's quite far and he's a nice person. i think.. we could go there.”

you hummed softly, taking into account everything you'd risk. everything you'd lose. but also everything you'd win.

it was foolish, however, before your mind really processed it, you found yourself nodding, “okay.”, he smiled gently, tilting his head to ask — silently, like a confession — if you had thought long enough about it. if you were right about this. — instead of questioning it more, also because you were afraid of what you would've found, you agreed again. “when?”

he stared at the sky above you, the stars, the moon and how it lit you perfectly. how it lets you be even more gorgeous than what you already were. “tomorrow night?”

“right. yes.. that'd be awesome.” you awkwardly said, terrified of the consequences, but hoping that it'd let you finally be free, happy. that it'd prevent you from being trapped forever. that you'd spent the rest of your life with the boy you gave — secretly, under covers — your whole youth.

jungwon eyed you with a determined, firm expression and with a sweet whisper, he wished you goodnight, breath fanning on your skin, long lashes shutting down beautifully.

everything crumbled down on you again, your certainty nearly disappearing the more you thought about it, the evenings writing with maid Kwon or running through the Palace earning new meanings. because maybe it was the last time you'd lived those things. because you'd run away from it to protect yourself. to protect who you were.

the night passed in a blur, insects' sounds on the background fading to let you finally rest, even if it was the last peaceful night you'd had.

the first thing you noticed when you woke up was warmth, then, jungwon's body, and only a few moments later you noticed the position you were in.

curled up against him, head buried on his neck, arms gripping his sides as if you were afraid he'd let go. he laid flatly on his back, an arm draped over your figure, tracing absent-mindedly patterns on your skin, caressing it smoothly, announcing that he was awake and chose not to move.

your breath hitched, the rhythm in which you inhaled earlier faltering. you had no clue about how you ended up like this, but it felt good. warmer, safer, softer. slowly, you opened your eyes, the light infiltrating your orbes intensely. when you sighed, he turned all his attention to you, lips hovering just above yours, breath hitting your cheeks constantly.

“ ‘morning, sleepy head”

“what? i didn't sleep that much, did i?” you asked, tilting your head, your faces lining themselves up immediately.

you could kiss like this.

“the sun tells me it's past 11 in the morning, got anything to say?” the air that left his mouth traveled to you, and as if gravity was pulling you, you leaned in further, noses almost touching

“yeah, that you're a very comfortable pillow” you smugly grinned, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the clarity. when you opened your eyelids back, he was closer. leaning in just slightly, giving you a peek of how nice it felt to have him this near.

you didn't back away. didn't flinch. and when his hands held you tighter, bringing you impossibly closer to him?

reaching out to press your lips together felt natural, right, simple.

the touch was exquisite, a surprised gasp leaving his throat and going down yours. both of you remained still, adapting into the new territory. some time later, his free hand moved to cup your cheek, barely there, but pressing slightly when he tilted his head to kiss you deeper.

this time the kiss is slower, softer — his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are and why you were there. his lips trail down to your jaw gently, then back up, brushing agonizingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh. you turned your head to give his tongue more access and—

you weren't sure who backed away first, but soon your bodies were distant, both embarrassingly panting, his coat under you moving so much you assumed it could feel the tension.

you kept there, staring at each other for what felt like a minute, and you hurriedly sat up, a flush of soft red creeping up on your neck to the tip of your ears. “see you at the same time as always.. correct? um, bye.”

your legs involuntarily stood up, and in a rush, you ran — tripping and stumbling occasionally — in the direction of the Palace.

jungwon remained there, layed down, fingertip trailing his lips with disbelief, the memory of your lips touching his so vivid he swore to himself he'd never forget it. the first encounter of your lives in such a delicate, deliberate way.

Deoksugung was tidy as always, warm toned walls high and empowered, leaving the impression of a well-known strength you were tired of. the faint coat of arms, the one you remembered by heart, stamping its large gates, inviting you to face its insides one more time. your muscles forced you to continue walking, though your brain was already giving red-signs since you began to see the family royal guards.

yet, here you were again. chin held up, conveying a strand of confidence you didn't have whatsoever. or at least trying. because you were way smaller than the Palace, way weaker than the guards, feared way more than the maids who run through it all the time.

it didn't welcome you so well, either. knowing gazes accompanying you wherever you went, the main hall greeting you with its haughtiness. due to the hour, you assumed your grandma would be busy, thus you followed straight to your room, earning some poorly done bows in the way. already in there, you rushed to pack essential things: three full sets of hanboks, a parchment paper and a pen, emerald ornaments for your hair, some snacks that royal chefs delivered earlier and you didn't properly receive — since you weren't there, of course — and few other whatnots.

it felt weird. unfamiliar. strange.

perhaps the effect shouldn't be so immediate on you, but it didn't look like the place you should call ‘my house’ anymore.

suddenly, your bedroom didn't seem like yours anymore. the roof nearly suffocated you, the room spinning and leaving you dizzy, the memory of why you were doing that back to the center of your brain.

your freedom taken away, the image of the man you were supposed to marry haunting you again. the corner of your eyes burned, a knot forming on your throat and threatening to snap at any moment.

and when the tears formed, watering your eyes, you remembered about jungwon.

the warmth he brought to you, his irises entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils. his voice, that always flew to you like music, so kind it incinerated your heart. his face, that lightened up slightly and was stupidly good-looking even when he told you that you should do something as foolish as run away, or when it was flushed from touching his lips with yours. his touch, gentle and featherlight, leaving your skin burning wherever it made contact with.

you felt the urge to go back to him as soon as possible, escaping for once and forever the place you lived your whole life swearing it was your home even when it didn't feel like it.

therefore, with your heart in your hands and a faux confident facade, you willingly left by the main gates for what should be the last time, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone — mainly due to the great fear you had of getting caught, but it didn't really matter. because regardless, that life wasn't yours anymore.

may we be finally free, right?

sprinting towards the stone well behind Deoksugung and consequently the flower field you'd left only some hours ago, you tried to shake your thoughts off, concentrating on what was beyond your view this instant. what you couldn't see just yet.

you sat down and admired the peonies, sniffing in some of them and letting their scent invade your nostrils until it made you confused, head with a growing ache. looking up at the marvelously lit sky, you couldn't help but noticing that jungwon was meant to be there by this time, but possibly, he could be late, or you could be early, there was no way to be sure unless you'd return to the castle, what you'd rather not do.

as the sun moved to the west a bit more, you sat down on the grass, opening your woven purse and carefully choosing a sweet to eat — after debating, you ended up with the dasik, a charming and colorful cookie that you were supposed to have with tea, such drink you didn't have. you chewed it with impressive disgust, noticing for the first time why those were meant to be consumed with something else.

somewhere between eating dasiks and checking the few stuff inside your bag, panic started to flood into your senses, though you couldn't precisely pinpoint when.

there was a reason for him to not have arrived yet, correct? you shouldn't be having a breakdown, you knew it.

but that boy was the one to be annoyingly punctual. to never not show up. and even if he had something going on and couldn't be there, he'd always warn you. have a way to contact you.

he always knew exactly what you'd do next. where you'd be.

and that's why, like a dumb person in love, you decided to stay, wait for him. every single noise earned a double check, every bird chipping was intensely looked at. there, lay down now on your back, you closed your eyes and counted many times from zero to a hundred.

46, 47, 48, 49..

you opened your eyes, the urge to release tears already there, your back sore from the position. he wasn't there yet.

63, 64, 65, 66..

the hard floor left you wondering how you managed to sleep there, and you missed jungwon a little more, because his heat made these things possible. he wasn't there yet.

89, 90, 91, 92..

the bugs annoyed you a lot, and you promised they were solely the reason why you lost yourself in your count and had to return to 90 once again. and yes, he wasn't there yet.

somewhere in between that process, when the stunning moon was starting to rise, a specially quiet, but loud enough for you to hear sound caught your attention. lifting your head and sharpening your senses, a tall, slim shadow began to appear in your view.

you blinked up multiple times, confused, and when you mustered up all the courage left on you to look up at his face, it shouldn't have, but your heart stung.

it was jungwon.

just a paler, weaker, visibly sick jungwon.

a new bruise appeared right below his eyes, one that looked, if that was even possible, deeper and more serious than the other ones. alongside it, a scar marked the side of his nose, the cut looking profound even from a distance.

you stood up so fast it took seconds to your vision to normalize, and ran towards his figure like a crazy person. your dress spinned and its wrinkled form no longer mattered to you.

“oh, y/n..” he smiled, a grin that didn't reach his eyes but was enough to make his dimples show. his features showed a sign of relief and disbelief altogether, like he couldn't believe you were there. you kept waiting.

“jungwon! my goodness gracious! where have you been? i mean.. are you doing okay?” your hands held his shoulders, and when he made a face of pain, like he would scream loud and hoarse, you moved away from him, eyes widening.

“i’m fine, really. and i'm sorry i kept you waiting.. it's just..” he shook his head, desperate for something to say, and showed you a festive-looking jar, holding it on the direction of your face. “i have.. something for you”

you stared at the pot, and if his voice wasn't lower, hoarser than before, you would’ve fought against that idea. however, soon your fingers reached its lid and you freed what seemed like hundreds of fireflies.

they danced around you, rising on the horizon and lighting up the flowers, making them more beautiful than what they already were. the insects flew gracefully as they were dancing, so in sync it left you wordless, mesmerized. amusement swimmed to your eyes, and with a gasp, you turned your body to face them completely, having the illusion of peace for a minute. exquisite flies also started to join in, the soft buzzing filling your ears, making you leave out a genuine smile.

jungwon kept his eyes on you the whole time. and with a soft sigh, he whispered, confessed: “we’ll never be seeing each other again.”

at first, you didn't react. the words lacking the impact they should have. when it finally made sense to you, you blinked up at him, tilting your head, questioning if you'd heard it correctly.

“what? why? what.. what do you want to say with that? what about getting married, and your friend—”

he cuts you out, voice barely there, “it’s.. i’m sorry. i shouldn't have promised you what i knew i couldn't guarantee.”

you broke. spinning your body to face him again, the fireflies’ light leaving him so beautiful it was a sin, you tried to understand it. comprehend what was happening. but you couldn't.

as if reading your thoughts, he dropped his head, tone laced with guilt, “my mother, she.. she has always known, you know.”

you didn't move. you refused to. your mind didn't get it yet.

“she discovered us when we were little, and according to her, we are getting closer now. she was here when we.. planned all that.” despite the pain, he kept steady, feet firm on the land so he was sure he wouldn't fall on his knees to apologize. to supplicate for your forgiveness.

even if he didn't deserve it.

“and can't we just go? now? you're here now, aren't you?” you tried to reach out for his hands, but he backed away, and you bit your bottom lip in desperation, in disbelief.

you had to keep breathing, but it was almost impossible. your rib cage hurt, and for a split second, maybe you were hiper ventilating

he sadly chuckled, “no.. we can't. they're going to come after you if i'm not the one to go.”

“but—”

“no buts. i'll be moving away, far away. and, if you stumble upon my grief, to protect you, i endure.”

your chest burned. and you shook your head in denial continuously, eyes begging for him to give a second thought. the silent that stretched later was agonizing, and you only break eye contact when he dropped a silent tear, one that said more than what a thousand words could say.

“this is not fair, jungwon—” your voice broke, but you resumed, “you didn't even give me a choice to choose for myself. how could you think about leaving like that and then i’ll continue here, alone? is this because you couldn't bear to live without even having a clue of where or how i’ll be?”

he didn't deny, but didn't use his voice either, his pupils getting redder, the margins filling with water

“i don't even know if you'll be alive, jungwon, please.” your tone was coated in something deeper than sadness, and if he wasn't already being harsh enough in himself, he would've given in to you. he inhaled deeply after your words in an act that left you worried sick, and instead of running away like a coward, in a move of a self-control he wasn't sure he had yet, he touched your wrist gently, stepping closer, heart fluttering inside his body, and put a silver delicate bracelet on your fist, the cold metal a contrast to his burning hot skin. “we'll meet again. it's a promise.”

you looked into his eyes, really looked at him, and there, while he walked further from you, you saw just a terrified, pathetically in love boy.

the last thing you said to him, while stupidly playing with the bracelet in your arm, “those bruises.. they were because of this, weren't they?”

he stopped for a second, and continued, back turned to you.

he let you there, alone, emotions surrounding you and leaving you in a dark solitude. the world around you crumbled, and amidst it all, there was jungwon.

the boy who taught you different languages and fulfilled your life even for a small period of time.

you never spoke to him again.

you never saw him again.

and nobody mentioned him again either, the Yang's now continuing their lives like jungwon never existed.

it was like he had disappeared completely.

Busan Train Station, 2025

the long trip was finally over, and even if the gaze of that stranger seemed comfortable enough for you to want to live in it, you forced your feet to stand up, the heavy luggage swinging in your hand.

you gave him a last good look, remarking his dimples, his soft skin and how he stared at you.

you didn't remember about being stared at like that before.

or maybe you did? the feelings were weird, conflicting.

you loud steps echoed through the wagon, and when you were about to leave it, a warm hand found your wrist, touching right above your silver bracelet. the one you remembered having since forever.

his touch sent shivers down your spine, the contact so different but familiar, like you'd done this previously.

but you were sure you never saw him before.

“hey, um, i think you dropped these”

© luvchaew on tumblr, all rights reserved | do not repost, copy or translate

💭 ik this took me years to be ready but i have my excuses, college has been eating me up (sacrifice reference) & finals are just around the corner. truly not the best time to be a student at an england uni 😭

taglist: @nuggets4lifers @won1yoiz @meowwwon @lavendersloane

[justauthoring]

yours, always.

requested -> ooh since ur writing fairy tail fics now, how abt a gray x ice dragon slayer reader where she just likes the taste of gray’s ice and always convinces him to make her some by -> anonymous

a/n -> it's been a hot minute since i wrote for fairy tail and gray is just adorable so here yall go

pairing -> gray fullbuster x f!reader

want to support me? send me a coffee!

“blegh.”

from across the bar, drying a cup in her hands, mirajane raises a curious brow. “what’s the matter, y/n?”

meeting her eyes, you pout, draped across the top of her bar rather dramatically. your hands stretch out before you, and you not so subtly shove the cup of ice away from you. “i’m hungry.”

“oh,” she frowns, concerned, eyes momentarily eyeing the cup of ice you'd shoved away. “i can make you something if you’d like? you need only ask, y/n. you know that.”

you turn to her, letting your chin rest on the table instead of your cheek and frown, not having meant to insult her. “I know, mira. thank you,” you say honestly, sending her a small smile. “it’s not food really that i’m hungry for, it’s—“

whatever you’d been about to say promptly gets cut off by the sound of the doors open. you straighten, surprising mirajane as you practically leap to your feet. instantly, your head is snapping towards the door, desperately hopeful, before your eyes practically shine at the sight of a familiar dark-haired (shirtless) mage.

“gray!” you call, bounding towards him without a second thought.

at the sound of his name, gray turns to face you, settling once he realizes just who called for him. his face brightens and a gentle smile curls on his lips as his arms widen to hug you, body obviously easing at you, his girlfriend, given how much he’d missed you while taking solo job.

it wasn't even like he'd been gone for that long — the mission had taken no more than two days. it was just rare that the two of you didn't go together, or at least with the rest of team natsu, but you hadn't been feeling well so you'd opted out.

you'd severely regretted that decision the second gray left.

except, you don’t jump into his arms like gray expects, arms shifting to prepare himself. instead, you stop right before him, hands reaching to clasp his wrist and tug it towards your chest.

“ice.”

and he blinks, stunned and confused, the whole thing happening in a blink of the eye to gray. he's dreadfully confused and a little disappointed because he'd been looking forward to that hug and then, your words register and he smirks teasingly.

“and here i thought you actually missed me.”

eyes shifting from his hand to his eyes, you pause. “oh, yes, gray of course i missed you. im glad you’re safe,” you rush out in a way that doesn’t completely seem heartfelt in the way gray had really wanted. but, he guessed, it was that thought that counted?

“now, ice. im starving.”

huffing, gray moves to oblige, not able to deny your request but still pouting about it.

“seriously,” he whines, feeling rerribly unlike himself (only you would have the ability to make him whine), holding his hand and making some ice for you to take. “it’s like you just use me to eat my ice. did you know that i missed you and you were on my thoughts the entire—“

gray halts when he feels your lips press against his cheek.

lips parting, his eyes follow you as you lean back, the ice he’d made for you held safely in your hands as you beam up at him.

“thank you,” you whisper, warm and genuine.

the sight of you smiling at him like that and the sound of your voice has gray short circuiting, cheeks turning a bright red as you move to happily munch of the ice.

“mm!” you exclaims, giddy and satisfied. “delicious. as always. no other ice can compare.”

and it’s silly and stupid. it’s just ice, but it melts gray’s heart and your words mean so much to him that all he can manage is to smile back at you, eyes flooded with love.

"you're welcome," he muses, watching you with adoring eyes. with the ice happily in your hands as you munch away, gray wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you against his side as he leads you towards a table.

truthfully, he'll give you all the ice in the world if it makes you that happy every time.

and he'd be foolish to deny how happy it makes him that only his ice can satisfy your craving.

[rafesbowbunny]

𝜗𝜚 bf!rafe fingers and eats you like a man starved while you're on the phone

c!w; mdni !! sort of shy!reader, kinda humiliation kink on rafe's part, fingering, overstim, squirting, praise kink, slight degrading kink, use of nickname bunny. notes; thinking abt rafe just loving to see you squirm.

your best friend had been on the phone for nearly forty minutes, she was complaining about topper yet again. and of course, you attentively listened, until she started saying the same thing over and over again.

rafe could tell you were getting a little bored of your conversation, your eyes were glazing over a little as you sat cross-legged on his bed. he had been waiting for this conversation to end too, you two were about to ...get cozy. you turned your head mouthed a sympathetic 'sorry' to your somewhat patient boyfriend sitting next to you.

but his patience had run out.

he began running the pads of his fingers gently over the inside of your thigh, getting dangerously close to your clothed heat. your eyes shot up at him, a shit eating grin splayed across his lips and mischief in his eyes. he quickly slid his hand down to cup your pussy, you gasped lightly, luckily your best friend still on the other side of the phone took no notice.

your cheeks flushed almost a deep red as you breathed in, glancing at rafe who had his eyes now laser focused on your small pyjama shorts, very clearly getting more and more damp by the second. the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips in satisfaction, he loved watching you get wet for him.

your breath hitched when he dragged his fingers over your clothed but wet slit before pulling the shorts and your soaked panties to the side. you hit the silence mic option on the call immediately, turning to look rafe in the eyes now.

he was slowly, tauntingly, gliding his fingers along your sopping slit, his mouth partially open as he watched your pussy twitch a little every so often. "rafe" you hissed, your chest beginning to rise and fall strenuously. his eyes just glanced up at you with a little smirk before looking back down. suddenly you heard your best friend saying your name on the phone, shit.

"y/n?? y/n are you there?" she asked, clearly annoyed. you hoped she hadn't been saying your name for too long. you switched mute off, "yes- sorry, rafe just um came and asked me something.. could you repeat that?"

your best friend sighed and went on to say something else about how topper's behaviour was unacceptable and you zoned out of the conversation again. looking down, rafe was now rubbing your puffy little clit, you couldn't help but let out a small whine but you froze when you realised your best friend definitely would've heard you then.

"are you okay?" she suddenly said, stopping in the middle of her ever flowing train of thought. you internally stuttered, not knowing what to say but quickly snapped out of it while rafe was no help, now turning rubbing teasing little strokes to tight little circles right on your aching bud. "sorry, my legs hurt... rafe, yknow" you quickly babbled, your friend then scoffing and going on to say something about how topper isn't good at sex.

you gripped rafe's wrist and he grinned, you mouthed 'stop' but that only made him slide two fingers deep into your drooling cunt whispering, "shh bunny, i know this pretty pussy is begging for my fingers. you keep talking."

he loved hearing the breathy whimpers you make for him to stop, to try and push him away, but he refused to relent, now lowering himself in front of you, his face an inch away from your core. you pulled the phone away from your face for a moment, the pleasure making you forget about that stupid mute button, "rafe." you whined quietly, "stop... ughh, please. the call 'll be done soon-"

you were promptly cut off by his mouth connecting to your weeping pussy, immediately eating you like a man starved as his two huge fingers continued to fuck your hole. he was mumbling into your clit now, periodically coming up for air to whisper a few words, "mmm, my dumb lil' bunny's taking my fingers so good..." "you taste so good baby..." "gonna make you squirt all over this tongue."

it was taking everything to keep quiet, laying back on the bed your phone had fallen beside you a long time ago, your hand threaded into his soft messy hair as he ravenously ate and teased you.

you looked to the side, noticing as rafe was pushing the phone back up to you, "keep talking baby, wanna see if you can hold in what a slut you're being for me" he grinned, his gaze piercing.

you shook your head but he pulled his fingers out with a stern expression, raising your phone up to you again with raised eyebrows, you let a shaky sigh go and held the phone up to your ear again. your best friend now asking you for your opinion, which you could only answer with shaky and deep breaths.

the way he was lapping at your sopping hole was getting sloppier, three fingers now causing you to unravel, the feeling was too overwhelming. your eyebrows cinched together as your thighs threatened to snap shut but rafe's strong arms had a death grip on them.

he looked up at you, a teasing glare as he licked a deep stripe up your pussy, your legs twitched and you quickly pulled the phone to your ear, "sorry girl i'm gonna have to go- ohh. um- shit, bye!" you hung up and threw the phone down, now gripping on rafe's head with one hand and the bed sheets with the other.

hot white ripped through your body and it felt like exploding fireworks, your juices now coating rafe's face and hand. you looked down at him, half lidded and gasping for air as he chuckled lightly into your tired cunt, pressing a butterfly kiss to your wet pussy before getting up.

"i knew you'd squirt f'me bunny, such a good girl." he breathed, sliding his hands up your trembling thighs.

[xxgoldie]

ns/fw ramblings - minors dni

ik we all like to imagine lighter as some sort of sex god - it comes with the territory of a confident n hot male character. but the more I think abt how much of a down-bad dork he is, the more the idea of him being a virgin, or at least having very little experience, is so so delicious to me. like, he could absolutely fuck if he wanted to, he canonically has fangirls, but he's a sap and he wants to wait for the right person. not to say he isn't horny - he fs watches porn and his head is full of fantasies.

imagine your relationship reaching that point, messily making out while you grind on his lap, both of you in nothing but your underwear. being able to touch all of you like this, the feeling of your clothed crotch rubbing against his, the soft little noises you made when your clit pressed against him - all infinitely better than his wildest fantasies, and he doesn't think to stop you until its already too late and he's cumming in his boxers with a stuttered groan.

he hadn't told you it was his first time. he had meant to, but things got hot and heavy before he got the chance, and he didn't exactly know how to slip it into conversation when you were taking your shirt off. it certainly looked like you were putting the pieces together now, a brief silence falling over you as you realised what had happened.

"lighter, did you just-" "i. i am so sorry-" "hey, don't apologise. are you okay?"

you aren't mad, visibly more surprised than disappointed, but even as you reassure him, his thoughts spiral. he finally found his person, finally felt ready to do this, and he'd gone and fucked it up. your sweet words fly in one ear and out the other, only making him feel more guilty that you were being so nice about it. he wanted to make you feel good, recreate all his late-night fantasies where fucked you until you couldn't think about anything but the feel of him, catering to your pleasure over and over again - you deserved that. yet here he was, falling apart at your slightest touch.

he only really snaps out of it when you kiss him, feather-light against his lips. your finger is tracing soft patterns against his bare chest, the feeling grounding him.

"trust me, love, its okay. i'll take it as a compliment."

there's a slight teasing glint in your eye - not making fun of him, but showing him this wasn't a big deal. when you kiss him again, he deepens it, as if he's trying to push all his scrambled thoughts of love and devotion from his mind to yours. your hips had been hovering over his, but you lowered yourself back into his lap as the rhythm of your tongues intensified. he almost felt relieved when he felt his dick twitch back to life.

"i really am sorry, baby." "i told you, you have nothing to apologise for. besides-" you wiggled your hips a little, drawing a sensitive hiss from his lips "-it feels like you're getting ready to make it up to me."

it may be an awkward start to his first time, but when he finally feels you sink down onto him, lighter feels like he's just found a heaven he's been waiting his whole life for. you feel impossibly good around him, but he thinks that even if his dick was numb, he could cum just from watching you - your low whine as he fills you up, the way your whole body tenses at the stretch then relaxes into pleasure, how you have to brace against his chest when he starts to thrust up into you.

he doesn't last long this time, either - any stamina he had built up by jacking off was for naught when you felt so much better than his hand. but he's so eager to please, a newfound addiction to the way your hips buck and eyes roll back. he makes you cum with his fingers, experimenting to see what makes you tick, eyes roaming your body and logging every little twitch and keen, confidence skyrocketing every time you praise him or beg for more. he's a fast learner - he has to be, he wants to see you fall apart like that over and over and over again.

(okay this turned out WAY longer than I intended it to be but I'm brainrotting so hard abt him, like can you blame me. also this is completely unedited and i wrote it one go lmao)

[seraphicloves]

𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆

⊱✿⊰ summary: your bestfriend asks you to teach him how to please a woman

⊱✿⊰ warnings: fingering, kissing, touching boobies, fem reader, SMUT WRITTEN BY A MINOR (dont report jst block pls), part one out two maybe, title from a wattpad book I read ifykyk

⊱✿⊰ notes: uhm so im slightly afraid to write smut abt a character ik my sister likes especially since she is in tumblr and knows my account. but like this idea is too good to pass up im sorry gang. Sissy if you see this dont judge ☠️ in fact dont mention it to me unless you liked it

im sorry for sinning 😔

"you want me to...what?" you asked, staring incredulously at the boy in front of you. his hair was a flaming pink, hiding his face in his hoodie. but you really had to hear him again, make sure you knew exactly what he was asking you to do.

"i want you to t-teach me," he stuttered, peeking a glance at you, "how to touch a g-girl."

so you hadn't misheard him originally, he really wanted you to show him the ropes on...sex? you could feel your heart speed up, imagining having his hands on you.

fuck, if you didn't already have a crush on idia this might just take you over the edge. it was to no surprise he was a virgin, he was a major recluse. but the fact he wanted to learn how to have sex, how to take care of the woman? that was more exciting than the actual thought of fucking him. (that was a lie but nobody needs to know that.)

he must've taken your silence negatively because he immediately groaned and said, "just forget it. it was a bad idea to even ask, i'm sorry."

before you could even think about it, you said quickly, "no,no don't be sorry. i'll do it; i'll teach you."

now it was his turn to give you a shocked look, surprised you had agreed. maybe it's weird for two friends to have sex, but you weren't sure you and idia had ever had a fully normal friendship. and if this is the only way you can have him close, then so be it.

but starting off strong might scare him off from the idea of sex - and romance - for the rest of his life. so you ought to start small, very very small.

you got closer until you could feel the warmth of his skin aganist yours, feeling his breath aganist your cheek. you gently grabbed his face, holding onto him delicately. your hands cupped his cheeks, as though he was your whole world and you were trying to contain it between your two palms.

"we can start with kissing," you whispered, watching the way he trembled when your lips brushed aganist the corner of his mouth. he was nervous, so delightfully scared you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in the bottom of your tummy.

he swallowed and nodded, eyes wide and unsure. but that was alright, as long as you were the confident one for him. you brought his face closer to yours until you were kissing.

it was...awkward at first. he smashed his lips aganist yours, accidentally crashing his teeth into you. but then he tried again- softer this time. he savored your taste, letting you tilt his head this way and that to maximize the delicate sensations.

once he got more used to your kisses, you got closer. close enough you were quite literally straddling his lap. his bulge poked into your thigh, coaxing the fire in your core you hadn't even realized turned into an inferno.

you kissed him again, more insistent this time. your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it until he let out a pretty little moan. you took the opportunity to slide your tongue into his waiting mouth, allow your muscle to explore him. to utterly and entirely devour him.

idia whined, pulling away for a moment. he blinked, cheeks flushed and his expression ful of wide eyed wonder. you felt your lips curve into a smile, the slightest flicker of pride when you realized you caused your friend to look like that.

"i want to t-touch you," he huffed, whispering your name like it was a confession of sin. perhaps it was, after all you were now a teacher of seduction. the lecturer of debauchery.

"patience, baby." you said, patting his cheek. he glared at you half heartedly, though it quickly vanished when you rolled your hips ever so teasingly. he groaned, eyebrows knitted together as though he was trying to concentrate on holding himself together.

"i've been patient." idia argued, lifting his hands from his sides to squeezing your hips. it felt nice, the large expanse of his palm pressed aganist the squish of your hips. squeezing it, kneading it...

"alright alright." you laughed, focusing on idia instead of the wetness collecting in your underwear. fuck, how was he getting to you so effortlessly?

now you had to figure out how to possibly get idia to not combust into flames at seeing you naked. (though a small, devious, part of you enjoyed the idea.)

"tell me to stop if it gets to be too much." you said softly, pulling off from his lap. you missed the contact, but it didn't matter much. you would be much closer in a matter of moments.

a strange part of you enjoyed having him stare so intently as you pulled off your clothes, letting each item crumple to the ground. his eyes were so wide, his hair that pretty pink flaming behind him.

you pulled off your underwear until you were left there entirely exposed to your best friend. his eyes were everywhere, scanning every inch of you as if you were a new puzzle for him to solve.

"you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice almost achingly raw. his hands clenched the fabric of his pants, as if he was wishing to reach out and touch you.

"alright, idia." you said, clearing your throat from the sappy and decidedly not friendly feelings forming. you crawled back into the bed, patting it so he was sitting in front of you.

despite your initial hesitance, you laid on the bed and opened your legs for him. you let him stare at your pussy, practically drooling. although you were growing antsy for his hands on, and inside, you. so you didn't last very long with only his eyes caressing your skin.

you sat up and grabbed his hand, placing it on your tit. he practically jumped in his skin, letting out a surprised sound. but it could partially be due to the fact your nipple had hardened so quickly under his touch, pebbled and ready for him to play with.

"most girls need quite a bit of foreplay before the whole sex thing," you explained, trying to remember the whole reason you were in this situation was because he wanted to learn how to pleasure a woman. "and boobs are pretty sensitive so its good to play with."

he nodded, still fondling your breasts in his hands. he glanced at you, as though needing one last ounce of permission before he touched you fully. so you gave it to him, nodding and laying down.

a squeal was ripped from your lips when he suctioned his lips to your nipple, pinching your other. how the fuck did he learn that?

idia popped his mouth off your tit and gave you an anxious look, "i'm sorry! i heard that was something people do and i wanted to try but i didn't realize you might not-"

"its okay, idia." you interrupted, not wanting him to stress over something as silly as your noises, "i made that noise because it feels good. if i don't like something i'll tell you, okay?"

he frowned a bit, blushing, but overall nodded. then as if he was on a mission, he went back to licking and sucking on your nipples. he altnerated between them, making sure they recieved equal attention.

"idia," you said, though it ended up sounding a bit more like a whine. your pussy was feeling neglected, the cool air hitting aganist the slick to make you even more sensitive.

you grabbed his hand, trailing it down your stomach and lower until it brushed aganist your wet folds. he let out a shocked gasp, reanimating his hand and collecting some of the slick.

"you're so wet," he murmured, sort of exploring your pussy like it was some sort of invention he wanted to know how was made. you bit your lip to hide your whimper, wishing he could just find your clit and help you already.

"ngh, fuck," you groaned, giving up on letting him explore. you were needy enough that your head was spinning, your bones were melting.

"can you find go a bit higher, find my-" your voice was cut off when he found your clit, his eyes on your face the entire time. they were wide and innocent, examining your reactions like he was going to write a lab report about it.

he rubbed it in rough circular motions, slightly harsh that tinged the edges of your pleasure with pain. but overall he was doing a good job, even more so when you told him to rub your bundle of nerves more gently.

"do you just watch a lot of, ah, porn?" you asked, your hips twitching whenever he pinched that sensitive bud.

he gave you a shy look and shrugged, "i g-guess. i just tried learning about this online but it's not the same."

you nodded, knowing that was true. if you could get real dick online you'd be a lot more relaxed than you usually are. those with lack of orgasms tended to be rather high strung.

"well you're doing a good job, idia." you said, giving him a smile. it was slightly breathless, broken up by the whimperish sounds you were making. idia seemed to like them though, knowing he was causing you to feel that way.

"put your fingers inside, y-yeah, fuck," you sighed, "just like that."

his fingers were longer than they were thick, filling you up in ways you didn't realize those particular appendages could. he kept them there without moving for a moment, unsure, but when you nodded he started pumping them in and out. he started with two fingers, god were you really that wet? how down bad were you for this man?

"mhm, shit." you mewled, bucking your hips up when he curled his fingers inside of you. he wa still rubbing your clit as he did this, remembering what you taught him.

your core tightened, closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. it was like being on a roller coaster, waiting for the drop. it was going higher, higher, higher still. pausing right at the edge, teetering to make you feel even more blissful when you rushed down.

"fuck, fuck, idia!" you whined all of a sudden, feeling your orgasm slam aganist you. your pussy gushed, creaming around his fingers. your cunt clenched, tightening around his fingers like a vice.

once you came down from your high, you blinked in awareness cutting through the haze of lust. you hadn't even touched idia, was he upset? technically this was about him learning how to touch a girl but it felt embarrassing you came when he didn't.

he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping them with a napkin. so you sat up, ready to ask him if he wanted you to return the favor when your eyes fell on to the very apparent dark spot on the front of his jeans. oh.

he noticed you looking and said loudly, "stop looking! i know it's such a noob move of me but leave me alone! i'm still learning the control to this game."

you laughed in surprise, a bit amused that he was still acting normal. and to be honest you were flattered he came in his pants just at watching you.

"i'm not making fun of you, idia. it happens, okay?" you said, patting his hand slightly. he watched you but nodded, his face still that pretty bright red.

"alright well i got to get dressed before somebody walks in and realized what we were doing." you said grabbing your clothes and hurrying to the bathroom to hide the way your heart fluttered.

you were in big big trouble. now that you've felt his hands on you, how would you ever go back to normal? to just being friends when all you wished was to be his and for him to be yours. maybe you won't get his love, but at least you had his lust for this fleeting moment.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.