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quizzicalwriter · 1 year ago

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Cola

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were off for spring break, why not introduce yourself to your parent’s new next door neighbor?

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Infidelity, older Ellie, touching, kissing, fingering, squirting, strap usage (r!receiving)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part two / Part three

“Those two always argue.” Your mom huffed out, eyes flickering over to the open kitchen window, the sounds of a shouted confrontation pouring in through the screen. You turned your head away from your mom, squinting to see through the mess of trees and bushes that separated your parent’s house from their neighbors.

Whoever they were, they didn’t sound happy. Some of the words exchanged made you wince, eyes widening as you looked back to your mom with a faint and semi-embarrassed laugh, as though you’d heard too much from someone you didn’t even know the face of.

“Sounds like it.” You replied, hopping down from the kitchen counter to pad over to the island, leaning down on your elbows as your mom kneaded out the dough for her bread. The house smelled lovely, reminding you of your childhood when you’d bother your mom to bits because you wanted to ‘help,’ not realizing your help usually meant tripping your mom up or making her forget important steps in her cooking.

So for now you just watched, committing it all to memory in hopes you’d be able to accomplish something even the slightest bit similar once your break was over and you were forced back onto campus. As your mom placed the bread into the oven you padded upstairs, deciding on changing out of your pajamas, after all, it was nearly one in the afternoon and you had plans to go out not too much later.

You sorted through your dresser, humming to yourself as you stripped yourself of your clothing. You’d never given much thought to your bedroom windows, one faced the backyard and one faced your neighbor's house. You’d never worried about your neighbor before, or now, given the argument you just overheard not too long ago. As you pulled your sundress over your head you turned to your window, consequently locking eyes with your parent’s neighbor who stood dumbstruck in her backyard.

“Fuck-“ You cursed, immediately moving from the window's line of sight as you pulled your dress on. “Great, haven’t even been home for a day and I’ve already flashed the neighbor.”

The embarrassment was still ripe in your mind as you made your way back downstairs, hopeful that some homemade bread would soothe your mind. As you walked into the kitchen you noticed your mom wrapping the bread, her eyes casting over to you.

“There you are!” She stated, smiling brightly. “Can you take this over to the neighbors? Figured that poor girl can use some homemade bread with her wife yelling like that all the time.”

You feigned a smile, not one to turn your mom down for something so simple. So you took the bread, holding it close to your chest as you slipped your sandals on, padding down the front porch steps and over onto their lawn.

It was beautifully manicured, the nearby garden buzzing with birds and bees. You’d only ever seen such manicured lawns on the nicer side of town, where dads took utmost pride in ensuring their lawns looked picture-perfect. Maybe the neighbor was one of those people? You mulled the thought over as you walked up their front porch steps, ringing the doorbell with your elbow after.

You could hear the sound of sports blaring from inside the house, the sound suddenly muted, followed by the subtle sound of footsteps approaching the door. What you hadn’t expected, or at least hoped wouldn’t happen, was that the same woman who’d just seen you naked would be on the other side of the door.

You paled, as did she, her eyes flickering between yours and the bread you now appeared to be crushing in your grasp, the crackling of the crust sounding in the awkward silence shared between you two.

“You’re going to kill it.” She muttered, pointing down to the bread. You jumped, looking down at it, silently cursing at yourself as you loosened your grip.

“My mom-“ You started, clearing your throat as you shook your head. “She made you bread, wanted me to deliver it.”

You handed the bread over, feigning a smile as she took it from your hands, smiling down at it as she flipped it over in her grasp. For some godforsaken reason, you blurted out the one thing lingering on your mind, instead of being a normal human being and brushing past it.

“I’m sorry you saw my tits.”

The words hung heavy in the air, causing her to stiffen as she looked up at you, her face soon twisting into a smile as she broke out into laughter. She laughed for a bit, enough for you to calm yourself and laugh a fair bit yourself.

“Blunt, aren’t you?” She laughed out, wiping beneath her eyes as she caught her breath. “Jesus, kid. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have been looking. I’m- I’m Ellie.”

You smiled, extending out your hand which Ellie quickly took, giving it a slight shake, although you could tell she was holding herself back as she did. It made you wonder just how strong her hands were, especially since her arm muscles seemed to be made ever more apparent in the midday sun.

“Nice name.” You stated, dropping your hand back down to your side. “My parents are your neighbors, I’m just visiting because I’m on break.”

Ellie nodded, pursing her lips as her gaze flickered over to your parent’s house. “High school?” She asked, looking back at you.

“College.” You replied, rocking back onto your heels. “First year.”

Ellie’s fingers smoothed over the cellophane, the wrinkling of the plastic underneath her hands filling the silence once again. She exhaled then, turning halfway toward her front door before smiling back at you.

“Tell your mom I said thanks.”

You gave her a brief thumbs-up, walking back down the porch steps into your parent's yard, completely oblivious to the fact that Ellie watched you walk back the whole way, eyes fixated on your hips and ass.

Much to your chagrin, your parents were pinnacles of their neighborhood, knowing everyone and everything that went on within the little suburb. It was nice, in a way, the little neighborhood block parties and the way they always had friends to talk to. It certainly took the pressure off of you in some aspects, but what you hadn’t figured was that they’d throw a party during your break.

They swore it was for you and for you to catch up with everyone, you had been gone for a while at college, so in a way, you were thankful and found it cute. What you didn’t factor in was Ellie attending, her hair tied back in a half-bun, white shirt sleeves rolled up halfway, practically sex on legs. You’d hardly heard your mom asking you to cart out some drinks to the table in the middle of the cul-de-sac until she nudged you with your foot, to which you profusely apologized and made your way outside.

Ellie was conversing with your dad, a bright smile on her face, a drink in one hand as the other rested in her front pocket. Your dad noticed you approaching, smiling at you as he waved you over, you put on a brave face and placed the drinks down on the nearby table before making your way over to them.

“Ellie, this is my daughter.” He stated, pulling you close as he smiled over at Ellie. Ellie only nodded, taking a sip of her drink before replying.

“Met her yesterday, she dropped off some bread. Really good bread, by the way. I’ll have to thank your mom in person.”

Your dad laughed and nodded, about to say something further until a few of his friends from around the neighborhood called him over. He gave Ellie a brief apology, walking over in their direction after, leaving you and her alone.

“Nice dress.” She murmured, eyes flickering over the fabric, how it hugged your hips, the way your breasts strained against the top, it made her have to clear her throat.

“Thanks.” You replied, smiling up at her. You took a moment to look around the party, wondering where her wife was amongst all the other partygoers. “Where’s your wife? You have one, right?”

Ellie snickered at your question, nodding in response as she took another drink from her cup. “I do have a wife.” She stated, tone hinting toward a fair bit of irritation on the subject. “She’s with her parents for a while.”

Sensing the irritation on the subject, your eyes widened, looking to the table between you as you pursed your lips. You’d never been one for awkward situations, they always made your nervous laugh flare up. As if on cue, your lips quirked into a smile, one Ellie noticed right away.

“Am I missing out on a joke?” She asked, words sarcastic as she placed her now empty cup down on the table. Your smirk turned into laughter, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

“No, fuck-“ You started, laughter continuing as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I have a nervous laugh, your response made me laugh.”

Ellie’s shoulders seemed to drop then, a smile of her own making an appearance as she chuckled, breathing out a lungful of air as she looked over to you. “You’re weird.” She noted, although a hint of something warm lingered in her words.

“I’ve been told.” You replied, tilting your head as your laughter died down. “I’m sorry for asking about your wife, by the way. You seemed pissed at the mere mention of her.”

Ellie shrugged then, sighing quietly as she itched the back of her neck. “It’s no problem, I guess it’s a sore subject. She’s- well, I’m sure you’ve heard.”

You nodded, not wanting to pry on the subject. After all, you were fairly certain everyone in the neighborhood had heard Ellie and her wife arguing at the asscrack of dawn. You’d never been close enough to overhear specifically what it was about, but it was loud enough to startle you on more than one occasion.

“Why don’t you leave?” You asked, knowing the question was a bit loaded. “I mean, you guys argue a lot. I was just wondering.”

She waved off your concern. “I get it, I’ve heard my fair share of it. I’ve thought about it.”

A sigh passed her lips then, one she shook off as she reached for another drink, popping the top off with her thumb before drinking some. As she swallowed she looked back to you, faint worry lines evident against her skin. You wondered how much older than you she was, she had to be at least ten to fifteen years older. The thought aroused you, making you pull your gaze from hers as you tried to focus on the table.

“How old are you?” She asked, seemingly reading your mind. You looked back up at her, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Nearly twenty.”

She laughed then, eyes widening as she looked away from you. “Would not have guessed that.”

You laughed in response, moving over to her side of the table, propping yourself up on it as you met her gaze. “Why?”

“Well, I’m twice your age, that’s why.” She responded, words soft as she looked down at you.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the ever-present ache in your lower stomach at the near condescending tone she used with you. Her age shouldn’t have made her hotter, but it did, it really did.

“You look good for your age.” You replied. “Really good.”

Ellie chuckled in her throat, eyebrows lifting for a moment as she shook her head, eyes fixated on the rim of her cup. “You’re bold.” She stated, words spoken with a sigh as she turned her head to look out at the amassed crowd. After a moment she turned back to you, a coy grin on her face. “You haven’t seen my house, have you?”

There was a hidden insinuation in her words, in the way her eyes hovered over your chest before flickering back up to your eyes. You’d be a fool to say anything other than ‘no.’ So you shook your head, the motion causing her smile to widen as she nodded to her house, inviting you to follow her. Part of you pulled, begged for you to go in the opposite direction, knowing exactly what’d happen once you were inside her house - she was married, for Christ’s sake, but you couldn’t. The way her hand flexed around her drink made your stomach twist, panties coated in your wetness already.

You felt thankful that everyone seemed too preoccupied with the huge pile of fireworks to notice you and Ellie ducking off, even more so once you were inside her house, wordlessly following her through the halls. There were pictures of who you could only assume were Ellie’s family, photos with her smiling brightly, in the middle of fits of laughter, it was precious. You couldn’t help but smile at them as she moved into her kitchen, placing the cup down on the island counter.

“I like your photos.” You stated, moving into the kitchen after her, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of her leaned back against the counter, muscles in her forearms evident.

“Take off your clothes.” She responded, tone nonchalant as though she were asking you to hand her a plate. You didn’t hesitate, eyes locked with hers as you reached behind yourself, unzipping your dress. The fabric slipped down your form, exposing your bare breasts to her eyes. She smiled, moving toward you, raising a hand to hold your hip as the other moved to your breasts, kneading the flesh in her palm as she took in your body. “No bra?”

You shook your head, breaths coming out shallow as her finger brushed over your hardening nipple. “Don’t like them.” You whispered, eyes flickering up to meet hers. “They wouldn’t go with the dress.”

Ellie nodded, smiling to herself as her other hand looped around the hem of your panties, bending down slightly to help you step out of them. You’d half expected her to toss them to the floor, but she balled them up, shoving them into her back pocket. The act was perverse, leaving you clenching around nothing as you watched her stand back up straight.

She traced the back of her hand along your curves, touch so gentle it almost didn’t register in your mind. It almost seemed as though she meant to commit every facet of your being to memory, the thought alone making your thighs clench together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her green eyes flitted up to your face, brows quirking up in amusement as she trailed the back of her fingers along your inner thighs, fingertips barely brushing the outside of your cunt.

“Are you aching?” She asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear you admit to it. You nodded, wetting your lips. She tutted, turning her hand over to press her middle and ring finger to your folds, applying just enough pressure to gather your wetness on the pads of her fingers. Your legs practically buckled beneath you, a whine dying in the back of your throat as you held onto the counter behind you.

She pulled her hand away then, examining her fingertips under the warm hue of the kitchen lights, a smug smile on her face as her eyes flitted back up to meet yours. She held up her fingers then, pressing them to your lips, to which you eagerly opened your mouth. Her fingers pressed down on your tongue, the taste of your arousal coating your tastebuds as you sucked her fingers clean.

A soft moan passed her lips at the feeling of your tongue laving at her fingers, causing her to ache as well. You could see her pupils dilate, her breath coming out haggard as she removed her fingers from your mouth, brushing her thumb against your bottom lip after. You kept your gaze steady with hers, having to remind yourself to breathe every few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you?” She asked, the question so bold that you nearly forgot to respond until her eyes flicked up from your breasts to your eyes, her brow quirking in question. You nodded.

“Please.”

She bit back a smile, grabbing your wrist before leading you back through the house toward the staircase. The walls and furniture passed by your mind in a blur, only finding yourself able to focus on Ellie’s back and the occasional glance toward you she’d toss over her shoulder. Her being fully clothed while you’d been stripped of everything you’d worn was not lost on you, if anything it seemed to heighten your arousal.

Her bedroom was modest, with a nice king-sized mattress in the middle of the room and two big windows overlooking the backyard and the side of your parent's house - the view was partially skewed by some trees, but you could see your bedroom window. Ellie led you over to the bed, letting you sit down as she moved over to her bedside table. You watched in silent amazement as she removed her clothes, each layer removed exposing more and more of her toned skin to your eyes.

You’d hardly been paying attention to anything else besides her abdomen and arms, finding yourself surprised when she moved back in front of you, hand languidly pumping her strap. She looked at you expectantly, to which you moved from the bed and onto your knees, opening your mouth obediently. She hummed out a laugh, fingers brushing your hair back from your face as she used her other hand to slap the tip of her strap against your tongue.

You wrapped your lips around the silicone tip, relaxing your throat as you began bobbing your head, earning you an affectionate coo as she cradled your cheek, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. Her hips moved forward, pushing her strap farther down your throat, causing your eyes to water as you held back an involuntary gag. You could hear her holding back a grunt at the sight of you struggling to take her strap down your throat, spit coating your chin and dripping down to the top of your breasts.

“You look so good choking on my cock.” She whispered, tone full of pride as she smiled down at you. Her fingers grasped your hair, sharply pulling you back, a string of drool connecting you to the tip of her strap. You licked your lips clean, taking in several deep breaths as you looked up at her. She nodded her head toward the bed, helping you to your feet before guiding you onto the plush mattress, positioning you on your hands and knees.

You rested down on your elbows, arching your back, feeling the cold air against your bare cunt. Her hands smoothed up the back of your thighs, harshly grabbing at your ass, giving the skin there a sharp slap. You whined, leaning forward, only for her to grab your hips and pull you back. You bit into your bottom lip, feeling her drag the tip of her strap up and down along your folds, finally pushing in after you let out a particularly needy whine.

“Fuck-“ You cried out, resting your head on your forearms as you let her hoist your body up, fucking you hard enough for the bed frame to clatter against the wall. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push forward of her hips creating a sheen of your juices around the silicone.

She was hitting so deep within you, surely bruising your cervix, each thrust leaving you gasping into her bedsheets, fingers twisted into the maroon fabric. Her hands grasped harshly at your hips, nails digging into the plush flesh as she fucked her strap into you.

“Take it so good.” She murmured through grunts, voice breathless and strained. Her praise went straight to your cunt, causing you to squeeze around her strap. Her hands moved to your lower back, pushing down until your chest and stomach were flush with the bedding. “Arch that back, baby. Fuck-“

You could hear the lewd noise pooling from between your legs, cum slowly dripping down your skin. You were putty in her hands, wanting her to do everything she wanted with you - and she would.

Her right arm hooked around your waist, hand immediately moving to your cunt where she circled her fingers around your clit, slick noises emanating in the air between your near pathetic whines for her to fuck you harder, deeper - you couldn’t get enough of her. She pressed kisses down the back of your neck to the top of your spine, gently nipping at the skin as she continued rutting into you.

“Gonna cum on my cock, baby?” She all but purred into your shoulder, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your skin in between her words. “Go on, cum for me.”

You could hardly formulate words to reply, all you managed was a strangled cry of her name into the bedsheets, hips jerking in her hold. She didn’t slow down, still fucking her strap into you as she circled her fingers around your clit. Your hands pushed at hers, wordlessly telling her it was too much, all for her to use the hand she’d been using to circle your clit to hold your hands together by your wrists.

“Just stay like that, baby.” She grunted out, cursing under her breath as the base of the strap bumped into her clit over, and over again, bringing her to the cusp of her orgasm. You’d never been one for overstimulation, but the way she had you pinned to the mattress paired with the way her strap rutted against your g-spot left you teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

You were cumming around her strap before you’d even registered it, hips pathetically pushing back to meet her thrusts as you cried out her name into the bedsheets. Everything in your mind seemed to be muddled, finding yourself only able to focus on the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins paired with Ellie’s moans as she fucked you through her orgasm. It wasn't until after you were able to finally fill your lungs full of air that you realized your inner thighs were soaked.

“Holy fuck.” Ellie laughed out, eyes widened with amusement as she pulled out of you, strap dripping with your cum. “You soaked the sheets.”

You felt your face alight, nervous and breathless laughter leaving you as you brushed your hair from your face. “‘M sorry.”

She shook her head, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, undoing the harness before tossing it to the other side of the room, her breaths coming out in shallow pants. “Fuck, don’t apologize for that. Here- wait here, okay?”

You gave her a weak nod, collapsing down onto the comfortable mattress, feeling your thigh muscles twitching beneath your skin. She returned moments later, your dress in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other. She placed your dress beside you, seeming to hesitate in her movements before wiping down the inside of your thighs, the feeling pulling a tired whine from your chest.

After that was a bit of a blur, you’d managed to get yourself dressed and presentable. Ellie put on a different outfit, grumbling something about how her clothes had gotten soaked during the whole ordeal. She was far more gentle than she had been beforehand, seeming to not meet your gaze without a faint blush painted across her cheeks. As she moved with you down the staircase and toward the front door, you turned to her, a naive hopefulness in your eyes.

“Can I see you again?” You asked, giving her a small smile. She looked down at you, lips quirking at the sides. Although you could tell she was struggling with her moral quandary centered around her infidelity. You didn’t know if you’d get the truth from her, but you’d let yourself believe whatever she responded with.

“Sure.”

A/N: This one is so long, I’m so sorry. I have a thing for older Ellie. I ain’t apologizing for that. Anyway!!! If y’all have any requests for Ellie or Abby or anyone from TLOU2 let me know! I hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading or skimming or whatever you do - I appreciate the interactions nonetheless. And you can find all my works over on my AO3 under the user, “Unscriptural.”

#my work #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie tlou2

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wonderjanga · 17 days ago

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Yo, Wanna Hang Out?

Billy asking people if they want to hang out at the strangest places. They hang out with him anyways regardless of the places are strange.

Marvel: *in the kitchens packing up a fishing kit looking like someone’s dad getting ready to fish*

Aquaman: *nearby, making a sandwich* “You know, I’ve never seen you wear a bucket hat let alone civilian clothes before.”

Marvel: “What do you mean? It’s a fisherman’s hat. And I’m wearing it because I’m gonna go fishing.”

Aquaman: “Still a bucket hat…”

Martian Manhunter(MM): *also nearby, rummaging through the freezer looking for ice cream* “Fishing? Where?”

Aquaman: “Are you gonna go to a big lake or something?”

Marvel: “Yeah! I’m going to the frozen over one on Mars.”

MM: *looks over, now distracted from his quest of finding ice cream* “What-”

Marvel: “The fish there are so cool looking! I was gonna catch a few and then throw them back into the water, you know?”

MM: “No… No I don’t know.” *shakes head slowly*

Aquaman: “Wait, Mars has lakes?”

Marvel: “Yeah! In the south pole. It’s under some ice. Do you wanna come?”

Aquaman: “Well, I mean sure? I’m down to fish with you, but I don’t wanna do that if I have to wear a space suit.”

Marvel: “I don’t think you have to. I remember seeing Supes wearing this thing over his mouth and nose, and it allowed him to breathe in space.”

Aquaman: “Oh cool!”

Marvel: “Yeah, but apparently it’s super cold down there.”

MM: “It is. In human degrees it’s negative 153 degrees Celsius.”

Aquaman: “What’s that in American-”

Marvel: “So yeah! You might have to bundle up or maybe I could cast the heating spell on you? Just know it’ll be really really cold. By the way, J’onn, are you coming too?”

MM: *shrugs* “If you’ll have me.”

They ended up actually getting attacked by this giant, Martian, vaguely octopus-resembling creature. It was an epic battle of which they brought some of it back to the Watchtower and ate a bunch of octopus dishes together.

Marvel: *packing some stuff in a little bag and whistling a little tune while dressed like a gardener*

Hawkgirl: “Captain? Are you going somewhere?”

Marvel: “Oh, I’m going to Thanagar cause I wanna pick up this species of plant that only grows there. Wanna come?”

Hawkgirl: “I sort of can’t, considering the fact the entire planet thinks I’m a war criminal for betraying them.”

Marvel: “Wear a disguise. Want me to conjure a fake mustache on you?”

Hawkgirl: *snorts* “No.”

Marvel: “You sure? It doesn’t have to be a fake mustache. We can just change some things about you, like your hair color.”

Hawkgirl: “Hmm…” *rubs her chin, thinking* “Can Carter come along?”

Marvel: “Of course!”

They got caught and ended up going on this wacky adventure of evading the authorities. They even got arrested. Multiple times. They also broke out. Multiple times. It was fun for everyone involved besides the Thanagarian Law Enforcement.

Marvel: *humming a tune as he stands inside of a heavily restricted building that only allows people of the highest military clearance access to*

Captain Atom: *is also here because one of his superiors told him to report here and sees Marvel* “Captain Marvel Sir? What are you-” *looks around* “What are you doing here?”

Marvel: “Hey, Atom!” *little wave* “What do you mean?”

Captain Atom: “This is a military building with restricted access. I know you have Captain in your name, but I didn’t actually think you were in any of the branches. Let alone high enough in whatever branch to have access to this place.”

Marvel: “Oh no, I’m not military. I’m just here to renew my contract. I just finished.”

Captain Atom: “Contract?”

Marvel: “See a long time ago, a.k.a. the 1950s, heroes would do contractual jobs for the United States Government. Me and the Squadron of Justice used to do a lot of them.”

Captain Atom: “So that means I’ll be seeing you around here more often?”

Marvel: “Yep! Me and the other Fawcett heroes.”

Super Duper High Level Person In the Government(SDHLPITG): *walks over while holding a clipboard* “Oh, it seems you both are already acquainted.”

Captain Atom: “Ah, yes. We’re both on the Justice League ma’am.”

SDHLPITG: “So that means you’ll be good teammates. Wonderful.” *hands a clipboard to Captain Atom* “The head honcho wants you guys to investigate a portal in Antartica.” *looks to Marvel* “Your first job back with us.” *nods to him before leaving*

Captain Atom: *starts looking through it*

Marvel: *looks over his shoulder to see it* “Isn’t that the portal that leads to the Winter Fairy realm?”

Captain Atom: “What?”

Marvel: “Oh my gosh it is! That place is super cool! Their ice cream is amazing. You should try some.” *nudges him with his elbow*

Captain Atom: “Oh- uh- Okay?” *confused if that means they’ll be interacting with the mentioned fairies*

That’s how Atom and Marvel ended up eating fairy ice cream while surrounded by a bunch of fairies who were all super happy to see the Champion of Magic. They were both made into honorary fairies.

Captain Atom: *staring at the bowl of fairy liquid the Winter Fairies gave them* “Marvel… I don’t know if it’s a good idea to drink a foreign substance that looks like an oil spill.”

Marvel: “Oh trust me, it’s not dangerous or anything. It’ll just give you wings!”

Captain Atom: “What-”

Marvel: *downs his bowl*

After that, all the Winter fairies shied away from them as their wings were too hot for them. After all, Marvel’s was comprised of lightning which is hot, and Atom’s was comprised of the same matter as his energy blasts which were also extremely hot.

Marvel: *leans over to whisper* “Don’t worry. I can magic them away when we leave this place.”

Captain Atom: *lets out a little sigh of relief as he resumes eating his remaining ice cream*

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #captain atom #nathaniel adam #arthur curry #aquaman #j’onn j’onzz #martian manhunter #hawkgirl #shayera hol #shayera thal

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yyokkki · 1 year ago

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The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!

3K notes · View notes

mellowyellow236 · 3 months ago

Text

How Would the TWST Boys react to a Yuu/Reader like the “Princess” in their movie?

While the reader is gender neutral, when I use the word “Princess”, I mean the leading female character in their movies, the exception being Savanaclaw (The Reader is based on Belle from Beauty and the Beast; I thought it fit more than Nala and most other characters are male or side characters) All drabbles are meant to be interpreted as romantic, except for those in Ramschakle, Ortho, or if otherwise stated, but most can also be read as platonic. Some are just headcanons, while others are more like a story.

This is not an idea unique to me! However, I’ve seen a lot of people do it so I’m not sure who the original was.

As always, if you have anything to add or any questions, please leave a comment or ask. Requests are open!

All parts below the cut :)

Heartslabyul: Alice from Alice In Wonderland

Riddle Rosehearts -

Pre-overblot Riddle isn’t the biggest fan of how you act. Why is he painting the roses? Because that’s the rule. Doesn’t it hurt them? No, it’s magic, obviously. Why is it a rule? Because it is, stop asking so many pointless questions.

He grew up in an environment where he wasn’t meant to question the rules, so to see someone question the rules and everything about the world? He doesn’t know how to handle it. You’re not breaking any rules, but would you if given the chance? Is that ground to collar you?

Post-overblot, Riddle finds that he quite likes you. He thinks you’re a positive influence, and can balance him out well. If he’s following the rules too hard, he just has to think like you do and ask why the rule exists. He has a little mini-you in his head to keep him in check.

He likes to walk around Heartslabyul with you. “You get lost too easily” is his main excuse, but he just wants to spend time with you. After all, you're his favorite troublemaker. He has to try to take care of you.

Platonic - If you were an actual child like Alice, he would try his best to give you all the treats and things he never got to have growing up. He’s pretty over-indulgent, all things considered. He has to stop himself from spoiling your dinner by giving you tarts...

Trey Clover -

Trey thinks that you’re very sweet, and bakes you lots of treats.

Can your questioning be annoying? Yes. Does that mean that he won’t often entertain your questions and try to find answers? No. If anyone in Heartslabyul is willing to answer all of your questions, or at least try to, it’s him.

The one thing is that he needs to hide all of his sweets from you... ‘Eat Me’ doesn’t actually mean you can eat whatever it is all the time, you know? He has treats you can eat here, just leave those for the unbirthday party later alone!

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, he goes full dad mode. He makes you lunches and dinners, gives you piggyback rides whenever you want, and invites you over to help you study. he probably has one of those toddler leashes people use for chaotic children for you so you don’t get lost in the garden again.

Cater Diamond -

Cater likes how curious you are. It makes him think of you as a younger sibling, and he gets to show you around. He might even hide you away from Riddle if he notices that you’ve been munching on one of his tarts.

Ask him whatever questions you’d like! He doesn’t have all the answers, but he’ll happily google it or ask MagiCam if they’ve got them.

Speaking of MagiCam, prepare to be put on there a lot. You have such pretty dresses, like a doll! He loves to take pictures of you in the garden, you blend right in with the other students. If he can get you to stay still for long enough, that is.

Platonic, Angst - If you’re the same age as Alice was, expect him to try and dote on you a lot. He knows what it’s like to move away from everything and everyone that you love, even if it’s different from you, and he wants to try to make it as easy as he can for you.

Ace Trapolla -

Ace thinks that you’re a funny person. You’re constantly asking stupid questions, you often eat treats, and you seem to know even less than he does about manners and the Queen of Hearts’ rules.

And you’re so fun to tease! You’ll get all mad and then run off, or skip the getting mad part to leave and go a different route whenever the garden gets a bit too wild.

Not to mention, you’ll try just about anything put your way. Expect plenty of pranks from him giving you magical cookies and drinks. They’ll wear off soon enough, but he still wants to have fun while he has to chance.

Not to mention, you’re just as bad at studying as he is. Talk about fate, you two can run away and skip class to go hang out in the hedge maze together. Just make sure Riddle doesn’t catch you two again...

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, then Ace somehow becomes a much better person to you. He doesn’t like getting teased by his older brother, so even if he does it to you a bit, it’s not too much. And then he gets you treats and will sometimes carry you around, so he more than makes up for it.

Deuce Spade -

Deuce sees you kind of as an enigma. You aren’t too concerned about getting home; You want to, but it doesn’t seem to concern you so much as finding answers to your immediate problems.

And yet, you still seem so interested in the world, never losing what you wanted to do. Yes, you’ll pout and glare when Riddle corrects you or Ace teases you, but soon enough you’ll go back to your lust for life. It’s commendable to him.

You’re one of his favorite people, and he wants to protect you. You don’t know how to defend yourself too well, from words or fists, and so he tries his best to do it for you.

Platonic - If you’re the same age as Alice was, you’ve got a very sweet Duece as an older brother. You’re his younger sibling in his head, and so he’s kind of protective. He tries to help you out to do things, even if he’s hopeless at all kinds of school as well, and makes sure you don’t go down the wrong path like he did.

Savanaclaw: Belle from Beauty And The Beast

Leona Kingscholar -

Leona... Oh, Leona. The first thing he wants to do is hit you. Why are you hanging around him? He’s done everything in his power to get away, and yet you refuse to. What is wrong with you?

And then he gets used to it. Oh the seven, he gets used to it. You’re not in the botanical gardens to read to him during your lunch break? Now you are. He went to the library to go get you, you better follow him. You have work to do so you can’t? Well, no one ever said he had to leave. They can’t tell him to, he’s a prince, anyway.

Speaking of being a prince, he once made an offhanded comment about his home having a library in the palace. Cue you gushing all about it and Leona trying to figure out if he’d rather take you home to see it or build you your own in Ramshackle. In the end, he does neither, but he does give you his and his brother's NRC and RSA textbooks, respectively. Now you have double the reading material, and Leona only had to sacrifice some of his pride to ask, rather than all of it by bringing you home.

He starts to fall for you before he realizes it. You’re so nice to him, and never see him as lesser even after he tells you that he doesn’t have the energy to study ever. You just read him the material, and he soon realizes that he picks up on it more when you’re reading. It doesn’t cure him, he still doesn’t show up to class, but at least he feels better about himself now that he’s able to learn something.

Angst - He doesn’t want to introduce you to his family, but he gets a little more tempted after you talk about your father. His parents weren’t the best, but hearing you talk about him makes him think of his older brother more than anything else. And if you talk about how he got lost badly in the woods once and you couldn’t find him, until the carriage found you, Leona is forced to think about how he and Checka felt when he left for NRC and started barely coming back. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to convince Leona that he can love not just you, and not just his family, but himself as well.

Ruggie Bucchi -

Ruggie gets you. You both came from places where money was often tight and with one guardian, even if you were in a small village and he was in the slums. Incredibly different in most ways, but similar in enough. He knows what it’s like to have someone tell you you can’t do or be something because of factors you can’t control.

He likes hearing you talk about yourself. It’s refreshing, to see someone just offering up information without expecting anything in return. He’s not afraid you’re going to hit him like he is at home, and you seem aghast if he brings it up. It’s a lot of fun being with you.

You read to him, too. Long stories and short ones, and for the first time he’s okay with sitting still for a couple of hours. He loves to nap on you while you read. It’s a great chance for him to relax and for you to be able to share whatever book has your interest at the time.

Jack Howl -

Jack thinks that you’re a pretty good person. After all, you treat everyone so nicely. But to him, that isn’t anything special. You’re just another face in the crowd at first.

But one day, he gets hurt while running near Ramshackle, and you find him. He’s surprised and enamored, not only by how you were able to walk all that way just to explore but also because of how you were able to patch him up so nicely. Someone who can do physical activity and knows enough to do first aid? He’s impressed.

Afterwards, he starts hanging around you more. He thinks that your love of learning and reading, as well as your adventurous spirit, is beautiful. He wants to get closer to you and become your friend or more.

Also, that one thing you hear people do where one guy’s doing pushups and the other’s sitting on their back and reading? He does that. Please read aloud to him, he likes hearing your voice and also knowing that you’re also happy when he spends time with you.

Octavinelle: Ariel from The Little Mermaid

Azul Ashengrotto -

Azul believes you to be rather useful. After all, you were willing to sign a contract immediately, if it hadn’t been for Grim pulling you out. He could get Ramshackle Dorm all for himself very quickly...

But then, he hears you singing to yourself, and he decides that he must have your voice. Above all else, he wants to listen to you sing. But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your voice. He thinks having you work for him would be just as good, at first.

And you trust him after that. He loves it, loves how you draw in customers, and how you don’t think he’s weird or ugly. You trust him, and you believe in him, and it’s wonderful.

Angst from here down - ...And then you start talking about a human boy. Someone from another dorm, he doesn’t care who. But they have your heart, and you love them, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. You loved him, but now there’s a pretty human boy that you love more, and you’re only coming to Azul for advice on courting? That’s not right.

In the end, Azul does offer you a contract that will give you a love potion in exchange for your voice. This is what he wanted at the start. This is what he wanted, right? Except he doesn’t want it anymore. He hates the fact that he has no excuses to see you, and you only come to Mostro Lounge for dates with your boyfriend, he hates how you only ever want to write to him about your lover rather than talk about any little thing as you used to.

In the end, he’s the one that turns into seafoam, alone in his office with only a voice to keep him company, having it repeat the only words he wanted to hear. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Jade Leech -

Jade thinks you to be an interesting subject. A merperson, so set on going up to land that you’re almost squealing for joy every minute. How odd. He wants to study you.

Once you’re working at the Mostro Lounge, he takes his chance to examine how you behave. He tries feeding you, but you use the forks to do your hair. Interesting, you seem to know much less about the human world than he did when coming here. And the names you come up with for them? How on Earth did you even think of something so out there...

Angst from here down - Out of the Octavinelle trio, he’s the least jealous on the outside. After all, you’re so cheerful and easily distracted, surely this boy must be just a stranger who’s caught your interest for a moment. Floyd does the same thing all the time, and the boy doesn’t even seem to like you back. You’ll be back to asking him about mushrooms in no time.

But you aren’t. That’s when he starts to go a bit crazy. You haven’t given up on this human boy, why? Because he has legs? You know that potions give Jade the same thing, right? You’re being silly. What does that boy have that he couldn’t give you, right here where you belong?

He takes it hardest when you lose your voice. Jade’s always loved control, and it’s something he’s always had. But now, he doesn’t. You’ve decided to leave him, and he wasn’t even given a chance at control. Not even a chance to fix whatever it was that he needed to fix.

He tries to play it off. Of course, he knew. You must have mentioned it, Azul must have told him. He gaslights himself into thinking it wasn’t any more than a snap decision, that you’ll come back within the week month year and make a contract for your voice back, and then Azul will make you stay. Yes, that’s what will happen. Of course, it will. Of course. It couldn’t be any other way.

Floyd Leech -

You’re a really fun Shrimpy. You sing, and you do funny stuff with forks and things. You make a great person to hang out around. You even name objects like he names people! “Dinglehopper”? That’s fun, he’s going to start doing it!

When you start singing for customers at the Mostro Lounge, he’s ecstatic. He gets more time around you, and more people come that he can squeeze, and Jade and Azul are happy! What more could he want? You’re a great, fun Shrimpy that he wants to spend so much time with and squeeze!

Angst from here down - And then you start talking about a boyfriend. What do you mean he’s not the most important person to you? Do you not care about all of the time you’ve spent together? Was he only ever a placeholder? It seems like it when all your hangout time is now time spent with him.

Floyd misses you, and when he finds out Azul has your voice, he’s mad. He doesn’t even get a little piece of you, the one thing you left here? You didn’t even tell him about it before you did it? Was he really nothing to you?

You aren’t able to come back to the Mostro Lounge. If you did, Floyd would either smother you in love or kick you out. He can’t stand the thought of you leaving, so why’d you do it? Why’d you have to up and leave him? Why, Shrimpy, why?

Scarabia: Jasmine from Aladin

Kalim Al-Asim -

You and Kalim hit it off right away. At least, from his perspective, you do. You might find him a little annoying, but you bringing your tiger and talking with him like he was your equal? Kalim is over the moon. You treat him like a Jamil that isn’t working for him! That’s a great friendship.

Speaking of your tiger, he loves him! He gives him lots of crackers until you have to stop him. That seems to make you mad, but now Kalim’s sneaking the tiger various treats that are healthy for tigers. Or, at least, definitely won’t make him sick.

You hate him, and Kalim... doesn’t get it. Until he goes to your balcony to take you on a carpet ride. For one reason or another, you decide to get onto the carpet, and it’s magical. Alone with only the sky and Kalim, as well as the carpet, it’s like a whole new world opens up.

Afterward, Kalim notices you treating him differently, but he’s not upset about it. If anything, he’s happy to get your adventurous side. Prepare to give Jamil a heart attack as you take Kalim out to visit the town without warning or preparations.

Kalim’s happy that he’s made a friend he can be himself around, without needing to worry about titles or politics. To him, you’re a friend for life.

Jamil Viper -

Jamil has mixed feelings for you. On one hand, you’re so wealthy that you seem to be wholly unaware of how the world works. But on the other? He is living for how you dislike Kalim. He’s never been so validated when he sees you roll your eyes or scoff, confirming that it’s not just him who finds him annoying.

You’re still nobility, though, and the fact that you also depend on Jamil for many things doesn’t make him very happy. What do you mean, just buy a new phone? It’s just a scratch, the phone works fine. What do you mean, it’s not that expensive? WHY IS EVERYONE HE INTERACTS WITH LIKE THIS?

Once you sneak out and Kalim makes him go to find you, though, Jamil is slightly more endeared to you. You may not know how the world works, but you clearly don’t want to be coddled, something he can appreciate, at the very least.

He starts teaching you how to cook and various other small tasks. He continues to like you more and more as the days go on, trying your best and trying to help him. And you actually pay attention and learn! He likes you a lot by the end of the first year you spend here, enough to let you do his hair if you really want.

Pomefiore: Snow White from Snow White

Vil Schoenheit -

Vil hates you more than Neige, somehow. He’s jealous, and this time, he can’t make some of it go away by saying that you just have a more attractive brand rather than that he just wasn’t prettier.

Wherever he goes, you’re the one that draws attention. He doesn’t need to worry about too many fans asking for autographs, but that’s only because they want yours instead. Worried that you’ll be bullied when a dating rumor starts? He was, but then it does and he’s the one being told he’s not good enough.

He ends up playing into it just because he wants to see what it’s like to date you he’s spiteful that his fans like you more than him. So, he’s going to play into it, then they’ll get used to it and he’ll get even more likes from you being in his photos. All of his problems get solved, easy.

It isn’t until midway through his plan that he starts to like you. You are genuinely kind to him, so sweet and nice that he can’t help but feel some kind of affection for you. You’re a good person, and in the world of stars, that’s rare. Vil loves that kindness, and even if he’s still ungodly jealous no matter the circumstance, he’s much more forgiving of your lack of flaws when he knows that he’s fallen for it as much as your other fans.

Rook Hunt -

Oh, mon Dieu! Quelle beauté! You’re gorgeous to Rook, as much as Vil or Neige. Truly, the Monarque de son cœur. You have a kind heart as much as you have a kind soul, and it’s something Rook finds equally endearing as he does anyone else.

Rook is well aware of the fact that you’re physically beautiful, as well. Often, he’ll come to you listing off every factor that he can about how gorgeous you are, just to let you know he appreciates it.

Out of everyone, Rook encourages people to praise you the most. He’s not jealous of your looks or of others appreciating you, he’s simply in love with you and wants everyone to be just as in love. After all, the more people that love you, the more confidence Rook hopes you’ll gain, and that would truly be the best accessory for your joyous soul.

Translations: (Done with Google Translate)

“Oh, mon Dieu! Quelle beauté!” - “Oh my God! What beauty!”

“Monarque de son cœur” - “Monarch of his heart”

Epel Felmeir -

Epel is mildly annoyed by your presence. You’re like everything Vil wants him to be. Feminine, sweet, soft-spoken, pretty, and whatever else. Everything that he doesn’t want to be.

But then you bring him an apple pie. Well, bring is the wrong word. It implies you were there. You had a group of singing bluejays deliver him slices of a pie you stored in your home so Vil wouldn’t notice. And he kind of gets why Vil wants him to be like you.

He doesn’t want to be like and he doesn’t dislike you for existing in the wrong space anymore. You’re your own person, and a very cute person at that. That just means that the manly thing to do is to take the sweeter person and protect them, right? So now Epel’s your protector, trying his best to make sure that you stay safe and be the best guardian that he can be.

Ignihyde: Megara from Hercules

Idia Shroud -

Idia is afraid of you. At first, he thought you were like him. A comrade, one that was afraid of talking to people. And then he realized the truth... You didn’t fear people. You just didn’t like them.

You were someone he couldn’t understand at all. Why wouldn’t you talk to people if you didn’t fear them? Why are you solo-leveling if you’ve got a great team? Are you secretly hiding some kind of special skill? Are you the final boss in disguise?

But the damage was done. He... Had told Ortho in passing that he thought you might be like him. It was too late for his sanity; His brother’s insistence on keeping his social bar full had kicked in. How was he supposed to interact with you after such a wrong assumption?

You were too snarky when he was gaming, too. What do you mean, ‘it doesn’t look that hard’?! Fine, then, you try! And while you’re at it, here’s his UID in every game he’s ever played! How you like it now, you’re just a level one newb and he’s- Oh the seven what has he done. Now you’ve got access to all his accounts.

Please just let him crawl into a hole and die a peaceful death. That would be preferable to you bursting into his room to demand answers as to how these games work or for him to invite you into a higher-level dungeon so you can get more rewards. And you don’t just stand to the side and let him fight! At least then it would be a challenge with what characters he could use, but no! You’re in distress, but then you tell him to leave and ‘Have a nice day’ once he tries to save you from the monsters! Why are you like this...

He does end up enjoying the time you spend with him, though. Once you two open up to each other, about your past lover’s and his brother’s deaths, he feels like he really has a friend. You can tell him that you owe him for getting you into games or for helping you out all you want, but to Idia, you’re the one that he owes.

Ortho Shroud -

Ortho loves you. Then again, Ortho loves most people. But especially you. You’re like another older sibling!

Yes, you’re a bit rude and you seem to send Idia into a state of panic every time you enter the room, but that’s okay! Everyone has their flaws, and to Ortho, you’re just another option for a friend. And his big brother’s, at that! Did you know Idia could make friends on his own? He seemed to have all of these guesses about your personality, but that’s more interest than he shows most people, so at least you’re something with a pulse he can look at!

He’s cheerful enough to break down your cold exterior. Not only is he a good person, but he’s also loyal and helpful, something you haven’t experienced in a long time. Give him a little while, and he might help bring your personality back to the kinder person you were before the world jaded you. Not in every way, of course, but as your self-appointed little brother, Ortho sure does try to bring you at least some joy.

Diasonia: Briar Rose/Aurora from Sleeping Beauty

Malleus Dracona -

You’re quite the friend for Malleus, and he appreciates you very much. You’re kind and sweet, and you aren’t afraid of him in the slightest. No, more than anything, you seem happy to discuss fairytales with him.

Malleus appreciates you falling asleep in front of him more than you realize, and more than he thought he would. It’s a form of trust to him. You trust that in your sleep, he won’t attack. He won’t hurt you or kidnap you. Considering the places you fall asleep in, he even sees it as you trusting him to protect you. He’s your guardian dragon now, and you’re never getting away from him.

If given the chance, he will marry you, especially knowing how you always dreamed of living inside of a fairytale. He wants to make you an actual prince or princess if you give him the chance. That way, your childhood dream can come true, and his modern one can.

Lilia Vanrouge -

Lilia loves you. You’re just like Silver! Kind, sleepy, and lovely to everyone. He’s a bat dad at heart, and he’ll try to father you like a broody chicken would a rock.

He likes to make you various outfits, mostly in pink or blue, or sometimes both, and also tries cooking for you. He doesn’t do very well, but once he almost manages to bake you a cake. It was half-baked and fell over after he tried to move it, but there was an attempt.

He likes to tease you about how much you sleep, but he’s always willing to help you out. If you ever fall asleep at Diasonia, you’ll wake up with a pillow under your head and a blanket covering you. Even if he doesn’t say it, it’s obvious who left them once you start finding him cuddled up to you.

Silver “Vanrouge” -

Silver thinks that you’re an endearing person. After all, you’re willing to watch over him while he’s napping or nap with him. He’s even woken up to you making flower crowns for him and the various animals in the woods! It was very nice of you all.

Expect stories from him. He loves to tell you stories, and then watch you laugh and smile with them.

And you get along with the forest creatures! They stole his jacket once, and when he woke up and you were in a clearing, dancing and humming with them, he fell for you so hard.

He’s happy that you’re willing to spend so much time with him even though he falls asleep so much. If you ever let him use you as a pillow, he’ll be eternally thankful.

Sebek Zigvolt -

Sebek does not like you. Not one bit.

He already has Silver to deal with, and now you’re falling asleep, too! What is he to do, having to defend you two when you’re tired AND Malleus!

But when you’re awake, he thinks that you’re fine.

You’re curious, but that’s good because you’re also observant. A fine thing to have when you’re with a knight.

Besides, you like listening to him talk about classic fae stories. You call them fairy tales, but you are more interested than most humans, and he gives you credit for recognizing how amazing the fae are.

Ramshackle: Belle (Scrooge’s Previous Fiance) from A Christmas Carol

Ghosts -

The ghosts think you’re a wonderful person.

You take care of things around the house, and you don’t mind the chills sometimes, or when they sneak up on you.

They wish that you weren’t so used to living without much, but that’s okay. They can protect you now that you’re here.

Telling them stories about your old world is lots of fun for them. After all, they don’t get out of Ramshackle dorm often. Hearing your love and subsequent tragedy is their new favorite story.

Grim -

Grim sees you like an older sibling figure.

You’re sweet, and you don’t care for money, but rather just want to have a good time living with him in Twisted Wonderland.

He finds your love of other people and kids annoying and takes it upon himself to become your protector of sorts. No one can break your heart again if he’s there to stop them!

Speaking of heartbreak, if you tell him stories of your previous fiance, and how greedy he was, he’ll take it upon himself to give you a bit of his tune. You’re his henchmen, you should know that makes you better than all the other humans! He was stupid for not marrying you when he had the chance!

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prettyundeadgirl · 8 months ago

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Crave The Rose

1st and 3rd gifs made by me :)

Summary: Throughout your time in King's Landing, you and the carelessly attractive Kingsguard grew fond of each other. Your sister Margaery believes you both suit each other exceedingly well, soon setting you two up, and beneath the moonlight, love unfurls.

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x Tyrell Female Reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Tags: Fluff, Smut, 18+ MDNI

AO3 Link

From the moment he set foot into the lush gardens of King’s Landing, his pair of viridescent eyes, shot with gold, set themselves onto you with an untold and profound intrigue.

He’d go to the gardens whenever the chance arose, knowing you frequented there. He first enjoyed admiring you from afar, and it soon led him down a luring path where he’d do anything possible to get closer to you. Whether it was a simple, “Pardon me,” to brush past your skin and hear your gentle voice apologize for ‘being in his way,’ or to simply greet you.

Engaging conversations soon blossomed, and you grew rather fond of him, leaving your grandmother and sister early to catch up with him and walk through the endless greenery, scented with vibrant inflorescences.

–

The day was up early, new and fresh, yet the torrid heat remained the same. You strolled beside the pond’s stone borders, taking a seat on the edge and basking in the generous and unyielding rays of sunlight that brightened the strands of your hair and complemented certain aspects of your features.

Jaime had arrived only moments after and spotted you in an instant. He gathered in the picturesque view—the delicate movement of your leg crossing over the other, the intricate, floral trim of your dress, and the way you hovered over the pond to see the fish swimming beneath the lily pads that lay afloat, graced with pearlescent water lilies.

When you looked at him, lashes lifting slowly with that smile you always gave him, everything in his peripheral vision was meaningless as he stared at you—the electric, captivating focal point. And like the white, casting moon, you had a gravitational pull on the ocean tides of his attention, distant yet somehow influential, tugging him along. It wasn’t until you broke the contact to face your approaching sister Margaery that he was then dragged onto the mundane shores of reality.

Margaery was undoubtedly graceful, with her lustrous, long brown hair and soft doe-like stare.

“Grandmother wants to speak with us.” She stated, and as you stood up from your spot, she acknowledged Jaime with an inquisitive glint before interlacing her arm with yours. You asked her what she wanted as you both withdrew from the area, leaving Jaime with an indescribable and strange sense of longing.

Gone from his view, a smirk appeared on her face, and etched in her creases was a curiosity one couldn’t possibly deny, and it had been there for some time.

“He’s rather handsome, isn’t he?”

“Very.” You answered noticeably quickly.

“He likes you, I’ve seen it. I think you’d make a beautiful couple.”

Disbelief flashed across your features and you expelled a scoff, “You’re all wrong, he’s a Kingsgaurd. Forbidden to love. And he swore an oath to the king, your king.”

She giggled at your reaction, “Dear sister, you have much to learn. Most men never keep their oath, and what I saw today, his mind was clearly breaking that oath.” She drawled the last few words, wanting you to hear every syllable.

She was right.

Out of his sight, involuntary images and thoughts of you embedded themselves into the crevices of his mind—some pure, most not. It lingered in the back throughout his day and grew in the night before he went to sleep, and when he awakened, the hazy memory would come to a clear. He spent many mornings and nights this way—starting and ending with you, and he almost felt himself go mad, but he never knew one to love it as much as he did.

–

Beneath the heavens, you were situated on a long stone bench surrounded by verdant bushes and flourished plants, gazing out to where the sky and sea touched. The golden hours of the afternoon drained into the horizon; the sun, already gone, succumbing to its own inevitable demise. Darkness swept away the remnants of daylight that lingered, until the night prevailed, and myriad pinpricks of white sparkling light, softer than satin, adorned it graciously.

The glistening, tranquil waters lapped against the stone structure, its song melding with your blissful hums. It reflected the prideful moon hung above which watched as you held a flower you plucked from a nearby bush, stripping it of its petals until all that remained of it was the stem. You placed the petals into your hands, sending them off into the night where they swayed down for the vast expanse of water to claim, flowing away until they were no longer visible.

Before long, your attention is drawn to the familiar clattering sound of armor approaching your direction.

“Ser Jaime.” You greeted, rising from your seat.

“Lady (name).”

“What did you wish to speak to me about?”

His brows slightly furrowed at your question, “I was told you had wished to speak with me. Did you not?”

“No,” You admitted with pure honesty, taking a few steps forward. “My sister told me you wanted to meet me here, said you had something you’ve been wishing to tell me for a while.”

A spark of realization pervaded you after you finished your sentence, and as if by magic, the realization traveled to him as he smiled and you let out a small laugh, a sound he never tired of.

Inches away from him with that gentle gaze that sent his heart to cease, you raised your arm and traced the indentations of his shiny, aureate armor. The world was quiet—just the two of you, surrounded by nothing but plants and gleaming stars.

“Do you have something you wish to tell me, Ser?” The sudden shift in your tone and closeness sent an unbidden tightness to his throat.

“Yes.” He admitted. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

Pulling him closer, your lips grazed and you kissed him, the rose of your mouth blooming against him. His hands, by nature, encompassed the curves of your hips, and the cool gilded fingertips of his false hand contrasted with the warmth of your exposed skin and sent shivers through you.

He sought the answer to a question that plagued his unsettled mind, rendering him incapable of thinking about anything else for the duration of your time here, and at the base of your tongue, the answer evades him: Your lips were as soft and divine as he conceived, and you tasted sweeter than any honey he’s ever had, making him smile against the orient pearl bone of your teeth.

You pulled away, and his lips grew cold at your abrupt absence, “It’s late. Could you escort me back to my chambers?” You said against his mouth, words coated with a heavy implication.

His lips curled into another grin, “Of course.”

Arm looped around his as you were led into the Keep, where shadows draped against the narrow halls and slowly fell onto you. The silence was a symphony until your footfalls quick and sure echoed the halls akin to the beating of one’s heart.

When you reached the door, he wasted no time, drawing you close, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he reconnected his lips to yours with a fierce intensity. In that moment of pure, unbridled passion, you both shared the same thought: I don’t want this to end.

You craved each other, he was doubtless of it as you pulled him into your chambers with deafening haste, and once the door had shut, his hands moved with purpose, and your dress descended to the floor. You clumsily fiddled with his armor, removing the burdensome weight of his duties.

With your bare bodies exposed to the night’s air, he propped you against the wall, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, never breaking the burning, sinful kiss. Your fingers entwined with his flaxen hair, and a carnal desire had curled its way through his veins, clogging his marrow and taking over him entirely. His kisses were rough and possessive as he moved to your neck, and you sighed those pretty, sensuous moans he tended to find himself imagining, yet they could never compare to how you sounded now.

He carried you with ease, and the gentle river of bed sheets, brightened by the pale moonlight, creased as he lay you upon the bed and gazed at your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes, with your legs parted for him and him only. You were utterly remarkable, sculpted by The Seven themselves; and he briefly wondered if he was even worthy of your love, for his perceived flaws over the years tainted him, and the gold hand fitted on his arm reminded him of it.

Your eyes gleamed up at him with sincerity and love, not a trace of judgment or distaste. It was louder than his doubts and beckoned him.

He pressed his weight on you and planted seeds of sloppy kisses, starting from your mouth, and down to the cleft between your thighs. Your sighs were heavenly when his mouth met where you wanted him most, and he relished in your taste as his generous tongue performed a rhythmic undulation. You lifted your hips, pushing into his mouth, and further parting your legs to provide him better access, and when he heard whispers of his name fall from your lips like it was the only word you’ve ever known, it swept over him, defeating any worries he harbored.

His name floated in the air, and he felt you tremble and wither as he licked your sensitive flesh. A blissful wave had overcome you, your chest rising and lowering. It was nothing you had ever experienced, and you desperately wanted to feel it repeatedly.

He returns to your mouth once more, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. His fingers traced over your thighs before lifting your leg from your knee, leaving you completely accessible to him. You hummed when he placed himself inside you with much need, movements starting slow and soon quickening, desperate to let out the build-up of his release in you. Your hands clutched at his back, nails ever so slightly indenting crescents into his skin as you felt his cock grazing the spot that ached for him. He moved away to stare into your eyes, admiring you for a moment your eyes brimming with love and lips parted, trying your best to stay silent and not draw attention to your chambers if anyone walked by. Still, the effort was futile as your moans fluttered out of your throat.

He moved to your ear languidly and spoke breathless words. “Tell me… Tell me I’m yours and only yours.” The tension in your abdomen tightened at his gentle demand, and a weak smile pressed against your ear as you did as you were told.

You couldn’t contain it any longer, and you came hard and sweet beneath him. He soon followed, a soft, low groan escaping his chest, and his thrusts slowed as your breaths intermingled in the room of meager light, slowly coming back to awareness. You and him never wanted the Gods to let it be forgotten, and you remained in each others’ arms until the night turned day.

–

In the early morning, sunlight swept away the dust of stars, and you were awakened by a lightness in the bed and a chill to your body that wasn’t there during the night. A sullenness burdened your heart when you twisted to an empty side, but soon diminished and was replaced by a warmness at what had been placed on the pillow, leading you to replay the unforgettable event that occurred in the night.

A single rose.

#jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister oneshot #got fanfiction #jaime lannister fanfiction #jaime lannister fic #jaime lannister smut #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got imagine #jaime lannister imagines #asoiaf fanfic #my writing

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lqveharrington · 9 months ago

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We Become We | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were both linked by an unknown force, but Lucifer acted upon it differently, thinking it meant nothing.

pairing: Archangel!Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!Reader

includes: fluff, angst, Sera and Micheal being kind of mean, heartbreak, letting your heart decided what to do and not your mind. (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed any !)

a/n: i listened to this song at least 100 times the other day, it’s really good. i think it made me cry already based on how many tiktoks i’ve seen of it.

Since the Father in Heaven created you, you have always been more curious about the different angels he created. You were the second Seraphim created after Sera, so you witnessed the birth of many angels, except for the Archangels. You were introduced to one another as royalty, treating one another with such status.

However, you always caught the eyes of a certain Archangel. He was the second oldest of God’s children, much like how you were the second Seraphim. When you were introduced to one another, you instantly clicked. You always made sure to find him once a day, conversing on several topics about Earth and the Heavens.

“Luce, where’s the— Lucifer!” You grimace at the Archangel, watching him give you a teasing grin. “You’re not supposed to touch those until later tonight.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to break into the palace’s kitchens for a snack!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. You scrunch your nose at the action. “So formal all the time, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes as a smile etches its way to your lips, grabbing the strawberries from the fridge. “Just help me, you idiot.”

“Rude.” He bit into a strawberry, humming at the taste. “I was stating a fact.”

Nudging his shoulder, your wings ruffle at the words. “We have to go, Luce.”

“You really just came in here to get strawberries—?”

You both froze when you heard Gabriel and Sera’s voices coming through the other end of the kitchens, glancing at one another. Without another thought, you both run toward the back door, entering the palace gardens. You flinched when you heard Sera’s booming voice from the garden.

Lucifer pulled you by the waist, and softly pushed your back on a willow tree, covering your mouth when the wind speeds increased from his brother and your sister’s wings. Your eyes widened at the action, scanning his face as he looked behind you. You suddenly felt warm. From his hand holding your waist to the close proximity, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Sorry, they were looking for the culprit.” He chuckled as he removed his hand from your mouth, his golden eyes meeting your eyes. “Are you alright?”

You nod, face still warm from his hand still around your waist. “You still have frosting on your cheek, Luce…”

“Oh?” He swiped with his tongue, making you giggle. “Did I get it?”

“No.” You lift your hand, gently wiping the frosting off. “There.”

Lucifer smiled at you, “Thank you, beautiful.”

Seconds passed as you whispered back a response, letting the silence encapsulate the both of you. Your eyes searched his gaze while he cupped your cheek, rubbing softly.

“Lucifer—“

“SAMAEL!” Micheal yelled for his twin, making the both of you separate.

Your cheeks flare at the situation, watching him press a kiss to your cheek as he walks backward.

“I have to go, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” He winks, pushing off the ground with his six wings.

You lean against the tree, hand clutched by your heart. He had you hooked with a single action, but at what cost?

I could never choose to love another…

Months had passed and the Father created new souls on Earth. He created human souls, which fueled both you and Lucifer’s curiosity. You both visited them once in a while, but unbeknownst to you, Lucifer would visit without you, having built a blooming relationship with the human soul Lilith.

“Micheal!” You caught up with your creator’s eldest child, shifting your weight on your feet when he gave you an annoyed look. “Sorry, but uh… Do you know where Luc—Samael is? He promised we would have a picnic in the palace gardens today.”

“He went down to Earth to speak with Lilith again.” The Archangel waved you off. “If you wish to speak to him—“

“I’ll just go down to Earth.” You purse your lips, wings fluffing at his tone.

Lucifer said he was going to meet up with you by the gardens earlier that morning, he promised you. Did he just forget? Your heart ached at the thought as you soared down from the Heavens toward the Garden of Eden. You always loved visiting Earth’s garden, smiling when you saw flourishing greenery.

You slowly landed by the waterfall you added with Lucifer, his laughter ringing through the air. The wildlife followed you as you made your way over to the sound, your smile brightening when you saw Lucifer’s figure.

“Lucifer!” You shout for him, but the water from the waterfall drowns out your calls. You swiftly moved past all the growing plants before you froze, your heart beating harder with each passing second you watched.

Lilith and Lucifer were in a relationship?

Your heart broke as they parted from the kiss, Lilith tilting her head when she saw you. The animals surrounding you rubbed their heads against your legs in hopes of bringing your attention away from the couple.

Suddenly, Lucifer whipped around, eyes widening at being caught. Especially by you. “Fuck, beautiful—“

“I have to go.” You murmur, wings pushing you away from them.

Tears cascaded down your face as you made it back to Heaven, letting yourself break down when reaching your room’s balcony. The Archangels and Sera heard your curses out to the angel who took your heart and crushed it, frowning at the thought of what you saw.

They soon figured out the cause of your heartbreak, meaning the Angelic Council needed to make a crucial decision about the souls. With you swaying the final decision.

Lucifer watched you from where he stood with Lilith, knowing you would never look his way ever again.

“The Angelic Council voted unanimously,” Sera spoke with a delicate voice, hidden poison underneath. “You are both sentenced to Hell, becoming fallen to those in Heaven.”

You refused to look up from the papers in front of you, listening intently to your sister’s words. The whispers in the back of your head get louder as you hear Lucifer protest…

“ENOUGH.” Sera boomed her voice in the room, making you flinch. “It will be effective immediately.”

Lucifer looks back toward you, finally meeting your eyes. And for the first time, he saw guilt and anger emitting from you. He knew you loved him, but thought it didn’t mean anything until now.

Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too…

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peeweekey · 9 months ago

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cliff talk | sebastian x reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: sebastian brings you on a ride.

tags: emotional hurt/comfort, slight angst, dialogue heavy, sebastian and reader have a heart to heart

a/n: i never thought i'd be writing for the emo boy but here i am. hope you guys liked this as much as i liked writing this! :D

Like the green rain phenomenon or the cute little junimo creatures that live in the community center, there’s always something new to experience in the valley. As odd as it might be.

Hunched over, tending to your crops—is like living in wait, the calm before the storm, the thrum of anticipation as you await the next exciting thing.

Like today—now.

“Ah, there you are.”

The garden shears in your hands are dropped into the thick down crawl of growing fruit. You look up, squinting your eyes due to the warm beat of dying sunlight.

“Sebastian?” you pause, looking up at him from your spot amongst growing melon vines. Your overalls smeared with dirt and damp with sweat—this is the last state you’d want to be seen in.

“Hey farmer,” The keys dangling from his index finger jingle as he gives you a close-lipped smile. “Wanna go for a ride?”

—

The place Sebastian stops at is quiet.

But not in the way most people think—the valley is never quiet, birds chirping, the breeze singing through tall grass and the rustle of branches swaying slowly. You’re aware of the sounds in the recesses of your mind.

The view is breath-taking.

The sun set long before you arrived on Sebastian’s cliff side spot. It’s cool and grassy, ticking your ankles as you walk through the field. The air, no longer warm but a cool breeze that you greedily inhale.

You stop right before the edge, there’s a big drop that you'd rather not slip and fall into. Zuzu city lay just under the horizon, a smatter of light in the otherwise now-dark forest. A cluster of flashing lights that remind you of stars—that have fallen and gathered from the night sky.

“Amazing, I know.” Sebastian says, a few steps behind you. He’s leaning against his bike, staring at the same view as you. “Zuzu city is miles from here, but there’s so much light—you can see it even from high up.”

You fold your arms, turning your back at the view—facing him. “Well, it is nicer from afar.”

Sebastian gives you a look, then nods his head to the grassy patch behind him. “Mhm. Let’s sit?”

You settle down together, side by side. You, him, and his motorbike beside him—there’s barely any space between your legs. You feel the warmth of proximity—so close. What you’d give to bridge that gap once and for all.

“Want a drink?” he asks, pulling out a beer bottle from his hoodie pocket—your brow raises, a miracle it didn’t break on the way. “Only got one though.”

You shrug, taking the bottle. It’s warm—warmed by his body heat. “S’okay with me. We’ll just have’ta share.”

He looks at you, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips as you use your teeth to pop the bottle cap off. “I guess we do.”

—

The beer is settling warmly low in your stomach, loosening every tightly wound muscle in your body. You feel weightless, the edges of your mind made fuzzy.

“I’ve been savin’ up a lot,” he suddenly says, picking absentmindedly at the blades of grass underneath him. “Almost have enough too. Once I do, I’m skipping outta this town on my bike.”

You nod your head. “It is a pretty cool bike.”

“Mhm,” he drawls, patting the side of his motorcycle—almost lovingly. “It’s gonna take me all the way to Zuzu city.”

“Zuzu city,” you repeat slowly, feeling the sound of the words in your mouth. It’s unpleasant, Zuzu city is a place you’d rather leave behind. You look down at the view of it, squinting. “Why go there?”

He pauses, inhaling the cool night air deeply. His fingers itch—like they’re searching for the comforting hold of cigarettes he so enjoys.

A part of you wishes you didn’t ask. Difficult conversations and cliff sides don’t mesh well together, you think. You don’t dare move a muscle as you wait for him, your eyes drifting back to the glittering light-filled view of Zuzu city.

“It’s suffocating here—everything about the valley,” he replies mirthlessly. “I live in the basement of my mom’s house for fuck’s sake. I know how she looks at me, like she could’ve done so much more to make me less of a shitbag. Maybe she could’ve, I don’t care. It’s way too late now.”

A low whistle escapes past your lips. You swirl the beer bottle loosely in your grip. “I see…”

Sebastian narrows his eyes at you, scoffing. “You’re pretty shit at comforting words, y’know that?”

“Harsh,” you look at him quizzically, shoving the beer bottle into his hands. He accepts it immediately. “What do you want me to say, Seb?”

“Nothing,” he smirks, downing a generous gulp of beer, the bottle is a little less than half full now. “‘m just teasing. Don’t gimme that look. I didn’t want comfort anyway, I’ve had enough of that. I want you to tell me the stone cold truth.”

“Promise not to get pissed off?”

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth, then smiles. “Depends on what you say.”

“Wow, guess I’ll have to lie.” you joke.

“Hey—”

“Kidding.” You laugh softly at his pinched expression. His eyes narrowed—lacking any real aggression—at you as you poke harmless fun.

You grin, slowly turning back to the view. “You won’t find yourself there,” you say simply, taking a slow sip of beer, the smoothness of it running smoothly down your throat. “Believe me, I’d know.”

Sebastian turns to face you, irritation spelled out in every feature of his face.

“Smartass…”

“Hey, you asked for the stone cold truth,” you lift your fingers into air quotations to emphasize your point.

“Tch. Tell me this then. If I can’t find myself there, or here in the valley. Where the hell do I go?”

You pause, clicking the bottle with your nails idly. He’s irritated obviously. But you think more frustrated and confused than anything.

You sigh, then smile. The valley hasn’t been the kindest to its resident shut-in.

“Mid-life crisis at 24,” you tease gently, poking at his side. Sebastian shoots you a heatless glare. “Don’t worry too much Seb, your hair is gonna turn gray.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sourly. “You talk as if that isn’t the same reason you moved to the valley.”

“Hey, I gave a generous amount of my life to Joja,” you snort, shifting your feet into a better resting position. “I paid my dues over there before I found some semblance of peace here.”

“I can’t just sit around and wait my whole life.”

“Then don’t,” you reply simply. “God knows I wish I followed my dear old gramps’ footsteps sooner.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Yep. It isn’t. It does get easier though.”

“You say it so easily.”

“Sometimes, it just is.” you reply. “Only sometimes, though.”

For all you remember, your grandfather absolutely adored the valley, though he couldn’t convince you in the height of your angsty teenage phase to do the same. You’re long past that now, life didn’t go as planned and you ended up right where your grandfather said you would be.

Funny, how fate works so mysteriously, so weirdly.

You shake that thought away, turning to Sebastian—who has the same contemplative expression as you.

He’s silent, thinking. His fingers grasping and twirling the drawstrings of his hoodie. “You never told me the story.”

“Well,” you purse your lips, handing him the bottle. He drops the drawstrings to grab it. A wordless agreement between the two of you to share what remains of the liquid. “You n’ver asked.”

“I wanna hear it,” he says, looking at you at the corner of his glittering obsidian eyes. “please?”

“How polite,” you laugh, he lightly hits you on the back of your head with his palm. “Ouch. No need to be rough w��me, I’ll tell you.”

You clear your throat with an obnoxious ahem. “Once upon a time…”

“—C’mon farmer, stop messing around. I wanna know your story,” he interjects, and it almost sounds like a plea. “No theatrics.”

Your lips flatten into a grim line. He’s being unusually insistent on the topic. But now that you think about it, you haven’t told anyone why you moved into the farm. Not your mother, not your father, and definitely not anyone else in Pelican Town.

Sebastian may be your first, you think to yourself—innuendo unintended.

You hug your arms closer to your chest, the cool draft sliding over your skin—making you shiver. No better way to battle the uncomfortable situation with an even more uncomfortable conversation. You take a deep breath.

“I was a fresh graduate when I started working at Joja—worked my way up from customer service to marketing. Crazy, right?” you chuckle, though it sounds hollow even to you. “All the pretentious proposals I would write and those useless meetings that’d take forever. There wasn’t a day where I didn’t hate my 20 year old self for starting at Joja. 5 years down the fucking drain when I quit. Let me tell you, it’s the best decision I made in my stupid corporate slave life.”

Sebastian says nothing, he hands the bottle back to you, which you take a generous swig of. You grip the bottle tightly around its neck, the warm feeling of alcohol loosening your tongue.

You exhale deeply through your nose. “I was in my cubicle when I just ‘bout had enough—by the way, I hate that they’re called cubicles, I felt like a number in some executive’s spreadsheets instead of a living breathing person.” all that talking and your throat itches for more of the sweet burn of alcohol—you oblige it with another weighty gulp. “Grandpa left me this letter, told lil’ old me not to open it until I really, really needed to. Now that I think of it, he knew.”

Your voice cracks by the end of it. Your tongue feels way too thick for your mouth. And your eyes blur—there seems to be twice as many stars as usual.

Sebastian stays quiet, reflective even. Though his hands have stilled, and he feels closer than he was earlier. It’s warmer, you think.

If he asks, you’ve decided you’ll blame it on the alcohol.

—

You and Sebastian talk for hours after, the bottle of beer being passed between the both of you too often. You feel a tad tipsy—having drank the lion’s share of beer. Your head lolls onto your arms as you talk about everything then nothing.

There’s a fair moment of silence that blankets the two of you after—certainly not uncomfortable. You feel Sebastain knows the fact more than anyone. He seems to thrive in the quiet moments.

“I don’t think I’m leaving the valley any time soon, though,” he says softly, breaking the tranquil silence.

So he’s been thinking. “Why so?”

He shrugs his shoulders, taking the final sip of beer that finishes the bottle. “Something’s makin’ it worth staying a little longer.” His eyes meet yours, albeit for a second—before he refocuses on the cliff side view.

Ah, you understand.

Suddenly, alcohol isn’t the only thing making you feel so warm. You thank the stars for the dark, for hiding any warm pinkness in your expression. You smile, more to yourself than anything. Taking the bottle from him, brushing your fingers over his perpetually cold ones.

The bottle is lighter than it was at the beginning of the night—your shoulders too, less achy, less stiff. With all that weight off of them, you can afford to be less wound up.

You tip the bottle over the grass, nothing but a single drop comes out. You watch it fall and drop into the grass. “Good. This something thinks you’ll come to like it even.”

Sebastian tilts his head, a tentative smile playing on his lips. “That’s presumptive.”

You shrug, smirking. “I have a sense for this type of stuff.”

“Really now?”

“Mhm. I don’t just lie for no reason. And my senses are telling me you’ll be alright.”

You hear the silent hitch of his breath, the momental widening of his eyes and the tremble in his jaw. It saddens you slightly, no one has probably reassured him of it before.

God knows you needed some while working at Joja, you’re just returning your dues to the universe—and to him.

He laughs softly, and bitterly. His fingers twitch again—for that darn cigarette. “God, I sure hope so.”

Sebastian will be just fine, you know that. And it’s about time he knew it too.

711 notes · View notes

shinysobi · 4 months ago

Text

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: angst central again lmao but there's something good for everyone ig hehe also dedicated to gigi, who's been the first reader of this hehe

a/n 2: reblogs/comments/likes are, as always, much appreciated! tell me if you like it lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter 3

I learnt, at a very young age, that the best thing to do in any situation, is to ultimately do nothing. If you do nothing, then you will never fail. I’ve managed to spend my entire life doing the bare minimum, but right now? Right now, with Jihoon’s face half a feet away from mine, close enough for me to see the dried tears on his cheeks, I begin to wonder if it’s the best thing to do.

“You should say something,” Jihoon says, wiping his face, “I didn’t run half a mile uphill just for you to say nothing.”

What does he actually want me to say? I’ve furiously racked my brain to find the correct words to say to him; in the aftermath of the argument, but I’ve always come up empty. Its odd, and strangely humbling, this experience. Should I even say something? Am I allowed to? Jihoon stares at me, and it’s only then that I realise, he’s still holding my hands.

“I’m sorry.” I say, “I’m sorry for everything I said that night.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have forced all those decisions on you when you were not—are not ready.” Jihoon says, “but I really can’t imagine myself in a world where I am not your friend.”

He leans down, picking up a plant, “for your kitchen garden. Your chive plant died last month.”

I take it from him, the lingering warmth of his hands on my skin, “this is your idea of a housewarming gift?”

“This is all I could get at such short notice,” he replies, “all the other stores were closed, so I got this from a street vendor.”

“That’s—unexpectedly sweet of you, Jihoon,” I say, turning to place the pot on the floor, “do you want to come in?”

Jihoon nods, before slipping off his shoes and his jacket, entering my still-unfurnished house. All of a sudden, I’m self-conscious about the state of the place, even if he has seen worse. What am I doing, getting worked up over Jihoon entering my home?

“Look,” he begins, standing in the middle of the kitchen, “these past few weeks have been a personal kind of hell for me. I know you don’t care, but I’m just putting it out there. Life without you, without seeing you every day, without talking to you, has been hell, and I don’t want to live in it anymore.”

“Jihoon,” I begin, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“I’ve felt like shit, knowing that you’re just out of my reach, to the point where even if I reach for you, you won’t be able to see me, to talk to me, to be the kind of person I know and love, and it’s been excruciating, having to live with that knowledge.”

“Jihoon, what are you trying to get at?”

He takes a deep breath, as if readying himself for something horrible, “what I mean to say, is that I lied.”

“What? You lied about what, Jihoon?”

“It’s about—” he throws up his hands, “don’t you have any alcohol around here? Why do I have to have this conversation with you while sober?”

“Jihoon, I just moved in today. Of course, I don’t have alcohol, you idiot.” I cross my arms over my chest, “if you have nothing else to say, then you should leave. It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work left to do around the house tomorrow. If all you came here for was to apologise then it’s fine, I accept your apology—”

“Damn, woman, will you let me finish? I’m trying to get at something!”

“Well then, get at it faster!”

“I lied about getting over you!”

One thing I hate about this apartment is how silent it is. In my previous apartment, at all times of the night, there would be someone making a noise, and I hated how it would disturb my sleep. Right now, there’s silence. There’s silence and then there’s us, standing in the half-dark. Jihoon looks like he wants to say something, but has been holding himself back.

“What-what do you mean?” I say, after what seems like a lifetime, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I said that I lied about getting over you. I liked you back when I was doing my military service, and I still like you now.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I can assure you, I’m just as serious about this as I am with my work.”

“Then are you saying—”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think I’ll continue liking you for a long time.”

“Jihoon, I don’t like you like that.”

“I know,” Jihoon looks pained, and for the first time in my life, I want to lie and say that no, Jihoon, I like you too, but I can’t, “look, my feelings are my own. You don’t have to reciprocate them. You and I are separate people, and I don’t want to impose my feelings on you.”

“Then why did you say all this?” my voice communicates all my frustration, “then why did you come here and tell me all this, if you didn’t want to sway me? You were the person who kept telling me to move on, and now you come here and tell me this?”

“Because I felt like I was dying!” Jihoon yells, “not talking to you, not seeing you, not being able to text you, all this made me feel like I was dying. I didn’t tell you anything because I wanted to preserve our friendship, but when I can’t see you around, my heart feels as though it’s stopped functioning. All I could think about was you.”

“Jihoon,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my frustrations, “you don’t like me in a romantic light.”

“Don’t presume my feelings.”

“I’m not! I’m just pointing out that we have been friends for a long time, and that your feelings for me might just be you overthinking your feelings of friendship and thinking its something else when really, its just friendship. I don’t think you like me romantically, Jihoon. I think you’re just confused.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything for a long time. I would have felt better if he had cursed me, or if he had become angry, but all that remains of Jihoon right now, in this moment, is someone whose feelings are replaced with—just nothing.

Jihoon checks his watch, “look, it’s late, you should get some sleep.”

He turns around, opening the door, and pauses for a moment before turning around. “I don’t care if you’ve stopped, or if you’re terrified of moving forward. I’ll stay there with you until you’re ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“And another thing.”

“Yes?” I ask, voice cracking in the middle of the word. This is going to haunt me in my nightmares.

“Your dream,” Jihoon says, hand on the door handle, “I’ll help you fulfil it. No matter what it takes.”

—

Seungkwan is at my door the next morning, even before I’m fully dressed, carrying a box of Jeju oranges. Even before I can open the door fully, he’s in my apartment, staring at my face.

“My mom sent these for you, by the way,” he says, then takes a look at my face, “whoa, Sunbae, you look like you haven’t slept all night.”

“I know, I know,” I mutter, “just had some things to think about, that’s all.”

“Think about?” Seungkwan starts to unpack my crockeries, “you look like hell. I’m not kidding, you look awful.”

“Wow, thanks, Seungkwan, that sounds like a great compliment.” I mutter, settling down into a chair, “coming into my home on a Saturday and telling me I look ugly, way to make a girl feel great.”

“I’m not being sarcastic, I’m concerned. There’s a difference.” He sits in the chair next to mine, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Seungkwan, you’re sweet, but this is something I can’t really talk about.” I mutter, “some things aren’t meant to be shared with everyone.”

And really, what can I say? ‘oh, don’t worry, Seungkwan, my best friend since university, the person with whom I haven’t been talking to for the past few weeks, came to my apartment last night to confess that he had feelings for me?’ How does one even begin that conversation? Not to mention the embarrassment that Jihoon would face if I were to ever spill the beans to the guys. He’s always been intensely private, even in his romantic affairs. To spill his secrets would just be cruel.

It's really, really not as though I haven’t received romantic confessions. There have been people who have asked me out, who have said that they liked me, from university classmates to people at work. Even in school, when all I could think about were university entrance examinations, and how I had to get into a university in Seoul because that was where my sister went too, I had a few people tell me they had feelings for me, I have had people get angry when I turned them down, I’ve had people get sad when I said, no, I’m sorry. Yet, all this feels new. What do you actually say when someone you’ve known for years, tells you that they hold feelings for you? What is the appropriate thing to say, especially if you don’t know what your own feelings are?

“You know, I grew up with three older sisters, right?”

“Yes, you keep reminding me of it every other day.”

“Yes, so,” Seungkwan leans forward, inspecting my face, “you look like you’ve got something weighing down on your mind. And while I might not be Joshua-hyung or Jihoon-hyung, I can be a pretty good listener.”

“No, I don’t think I can tell you this. It’s not my secret to tell, and even then, I don’t want to burden you with something that shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place.”

“Sunbae,” Seungkwan asks, “does this have anything to do with Jihoon-hyung?”

I stare at him. “When did you get so fucking perceptive?”

“So, it is,” he leans back in his chair, self-satisfied and smug as hell, “I knew it. I knew he’d do something like this.”

“You knew?” I ask, and Seungkwan nods, “you knew, and you didn’t think of telling me? not even once? Not even a single heads-up?”

“And? What would we even say? ‘Jihoon-hyung likes you, please be advised he might try to confess his feelings?’ Would you have even liked it?”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shake my head, “really? This is something everyone knew about?”

Seungkwan nods, “I think most of us are aware of Jihoon-hyung’s feelings towards you, given how he acts.”

I hold up a hand, “Wait, pause. How he acts? What do you mean, how he acts? I’ve never seen him be anything other than perfectly normal with me.”

“That’s the problem with you,” Seungkwan clarifies, “your baseline is different when it comes to Jihoon-hyung. He treats you much more differently than he does all of us, and you’ve never noticed? Not even once?”

“No, clearly, I haven’t, Seungkwan, explain.”

Seungkwan takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts into a proper sequence, and begins, “well, for once, he always does what you want, even if he is initially against it. With anyone else? You can’t even convince him to lift a single finger, but he drove all the way to the restaurant that one time, dropping the recording for Soonyoung’s new album. Sure, he didn’t get in trouble, but he did that just because you called.”

“He ran out of a recording session?” I have to repeat myself, because in all the years that I have known Jihoon, he’s always put his work before everything else. In university, he spent days and nights in the makeshift recording studio he had in his home, only venturing out to get food once every two days. Even his recording studio was off-limits to us, until he had finished working on a project. That Jihoon left Soonyoung in the middle of a recording session to come pick me up because I was drunk? “Should I apologise to Soonyoung?”

“The only person you should be apologising to, is me,” Seungkwan send me a dirty look that would have anyone else cringing, “I come here to help you unpack and decorate your home, and this is what I have to hear?”

“You’re a traitor. You’ve been hiding Jihoon’s feelings from me for god knows how long, and now you expect me to be nice to you? Get a grip on yourself.”

“This is,” Seungkwan wags a finger at me, “this is just shooting the messenger. You think the others haven’t kept his secret from you?”

“What? Even Jeonghan-oppa? He’s betrayed me too?”

Seungkwan smiles, “there are no allies in this stupid game you both are playing. We’ve all known about his feelings ever since he came back from the military and hung up that stupid photo of the two of you on his wall. He would have had it framed it if the quality wasn’t like it was taken on a microwave.”

I think about the picture, Jihoon with the flat cap and me beside him, flashing a wide, toothy smile. “He tried to get it framed?”

“Seungcheol-hyung had to talk him out of it, because it’s insane, having a picture of another girl framed and putting in your bedroom while you’re trying to get a girlfriend is not the best thing to do, in retrospect.”

“Ah yes, wasn’t this when he was dating the music major? The intern at the office?” I’m trying to keep my voice light, but unfortunately, I know everything about his past relationships, the serious and the casual. The girls at university, the intern he dated for a month before she dumped him, and the office worker who he dated for a year before she finally grew sick of him and left. “I don’t remember them that well.”

“Liar. You remember every detail.” Seungkwan grins, “just like Jihoon-hyung can recite the names of all your exes backwards if he wanted to, “You remember every detail about all of Jihoon-hyung’s relationships. Yes, this was when he was dating the intern, and Seungcheol-hyung pointed out that it probably would not be the best look to frame a picture of the girl your girlfriend hates, and put it in your bedroom where you could see it every morning and every night.”

“May we all thank Seungcheol-oppa for his infinite wisdom.” I say, and Seungkwan gives me a high five, “wait, she hated me? but I was nice to her! And not fake nice, which is what I generally am, I was actually nice to her!”

“She still hated you, though. There was nothing you could do about that relationship.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s the same the other way around, too. Remember when you were dating that artist who hated the idea of Jihoon-hyung being around?”

“Oh, him? I remember that. He once tore down all the pictures I had with Jihoon, insisting that I was cheating on him. in his defence, we were twenty-three, so, I don’t blame him for making bad choices.”

Seungkwan groans, “this way, it’s going to take at least a hundred years before you wake up, too. Sunbae! Have you not realised it yet, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Realised what?”

“That you like hyung as well? That its not just him who’s chasing, but also you?”

I scoff, “no, I don’t like Jihoon! I don’t know why you are saying this, but I don’t like Jihoon. He’s simply a friend of mine.”

“You once drove to Hwacheon in the middle of winter for his birthday.”

“That’s different! It was his birthday, he was in the military, I had to do something! Besides, he only got one day for his leave, and none of you guys could go.”

“Sunbae, driving to Hwacheon is a bit too much, don’t you think?” Seungkwan stares at me, “you’re telling me you drove through snow and went halfway to North Korea for your friend?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” I wail, falling onto the floor on a heap, “all I know is that I want Jihoon in my life. I can’t live without him; these past few weeks, its as though life has lost its meaning for me. I don’t find my work fun anymore; I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. I can’t give him up.”

“I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty romantic to me.”

I narrow my eyes, “you’re just enjoying the fun, aren’t you?”

Seungkwan giggles, “and what if I tell you I am?”

“I’d kill you.”

Seungkwan says nothing, just continues to grin as though he’s watching a sitcom, or a variety show. What would a variety show based on my life look like? Something like I Live Alone, but entirely for people struggling with romance problems; if I worked in a bigger broadcasting company, I would have pitched this idea. People would get on there, and just talk about their romance problems.

“Sunbae—no, noona.”

Seungkwan calling me by the familiar honorific catches my attention. Since I have known him, Seungkwan has never once referred to me in that familiar a tone, always with the more respectful sunbae, reserved for departmental seniors. Especially since joining the news desk, he has refused to call me anything but. It gives me a sense of respect, obviously, but it also seems as though he has always kept me at arm’s length.

“You’re being familiar with me, Seungkwan,” I say, “what’s happened?”

He sits next to me on the floor, staring at me, “noona, have you ever really done anything for yourself?”

I give him a look. “What do you mean, if I have done anything for myself? Everything I do is for myself; I think we’ve established that. If you made a list of the most selfish people you know, I would probably rank top five in there.”

“That’s what you think. You always keep talking about how you’re doing things for yourself, but in reality, all you do, is based on the needs of others.”

“I think you’re trying to make me into a martyr, Seungkwan, when all I have done is be a selfish person.”

“I also think that you consider yourself to be a selfish person because that’s what you’ve been taught to believe.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, mildly, “look at the society we live in. its either hyper individualistic, or it’s based on outdated systems of collective identity; either way, I’m not actually doing anything I want to do myself. It is all things I’ve been taught. How to be, how to act, how to think.”

“And that isn’t wrong, per se, but you have to think, at some point, that your existence is based on how others think of you. Even with Jihoon-hyung, you’re just going off of what we might think of you, what he might think of you. Have you even figured out your own feelings?”

“And what if we break up? What if I say to Jihoon, that yes, I’d like to date you too, but we break up soon? Within one month, two months? I’m terrified of losing him, to the point where I’m happy to be his friend just to keep him in my life. Why else do you think I rejected him?”

“You rejected him?” Seungkwan screeches, “noona, you’re in love with him, and you rejected him?”

“Being friends with him is more important to me than being his girlfriend,” I say, “to be his girlfriend is something I don’t want to imagine.”

“Because you don’t want to be his girlfriend, or because you don’t want to get your hopes up?”

I groan, lying back down on the floor, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it either.”

Seungkwan smiles, “hey maybe, you should try and think about what you want to do, before doing what everyone else expects of you. Even if that’s what you are going to end up doing anyway, maybe, you should at least be aware of what you want.”

—

On Monday, I walk into the office with my eyes bloodshot, and dark circles underneath them, ten minutes after the team meeting has begun. Both the Editor and the Assistant Editor take one look at my face and decide not to tell me anything for showing up late to the meeting.

“We were talking about your column, Sunbae,” Haewon says as I nurse my coffee, “the readers loved it. We’ve been getting so many responses and letters to the office after you began the column.”

“We are?” I ask, “who the hell is screening through the letters, then?”

“I am,” the Assistant Editor says, “I figured you didn’t need one more thing on your plate, and I sorted out whatever you had to. For the first time in a long while, we have fan mail coming to the office.”

“Huh?” I catch the last part of that sentence, “we have fan mail?”

“Yes, and a lot of it, too,” the Assistant editor smiles at me, “at this rate, we might start a radio show if we have the funds for it.”

“We’ll never have the funds for it,” I wave a hand, “having a radio show is out of the question.”

“Still, it seems nice that the desk is getting a lot of other attention too, other than doing book reviews and movie reviews.” The editor says.

“You do realise, all this is coming at the expense of my sleep?” I grumble, “this is the worst idea you could ever have. A radio show? I can barely talk to people. You want me to go on a show and talk to people in real-time?”

“Yes, yes, which is why we are not thinking about it,” the Editor clarifies, “you just need to continue writing the column as you have been. That much is enough for the desk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sunbae,” Seungkwan slides an energy drink towards me, “it’s enough for the desk if you just do things as they come by. No one is asking you to do more than what’s required.”

“You say that now, Seungkwan, but pretty soon they’ll be asking favours from you, too.” I smile at him, “don’t let anyone walk over you here. Its difficult to stop them once you’ve begun letting them have their way.”

During lunch break, Seungkwan sidles up to me in the cafeteria, where the members of the desk have congregated (on news of them serving galbi-tang), and asks, “Sunbae, have you finished moving in? Jeonghan-hyung wanted me to invite you to a party this weekend.”

“Why didn’t he invite me himself?” I ask through a mouthful of beef, “has he lost my number?”

“No, he’ll probably invite you personally, but he wanted me to tell you beforehand.”

I narrow my eyebrows, “what am I, some sort of minister? Why are there levels of protocol when approaching me for an event?”

Seungkwan shrugs, “you know how Jeonghan-hyung is. You once told him you were uncomfortable at a party, and he’s taken that to heart ever since.”

I roll my eyes. The party in question was one thrown in the first year of university, after appropriate introductions had been made, and me and Jihoon had been invited out to a party by Joshua and his friends, where I got blind drunk and regretted it the next morning. Ever since that night, the boys have been particular about when to invite me out, none more so than Jeonghan, who apparently vetted all his invitations through Seungkwan, “tell him I’ll be there. And from now on, don’t let him vet his applications through you. If he wants to invite me out, he can call me himself. I don’t mind.”

“You do realise, if I relay your message verbatim to hyung, he’s going to be even more cautious of you?”

“Well, I’ll tell him myself, then.”

“Don’t tell him.”

I stare at Seungkwan, who looks serious, “really, sunbae, let other people care about you once in a while. Jeonghan-hyung is only mindful of your boundaries because he doesn’t want to overstep. He doesn’t see you as a burden, or as someone he needs to treat with kid gloves for the rest of his life.”

“Well, doesn’t matter what he thinks. If he continues to treat me like I’m a child, others might get annoyed with his actions.”

“Others? You mean the people that respect you and are cognizant of your boundaries and your shortcomings?” Seungkwan places a piece of meat in my rice bowl, I’m almost done with eating, “sunbae, people that make accommodations for you aren’t doing it because they secretly hate you, or that they’re bothered by your presence in events. They’re doing it because they want you to be there, and they like you enough to go out of their way to make a place for you at the table.”

“Seungkwan, this is much more complicated than that.”

“I don’t see why it has to be so complicated,” he says, standing up, “you keep being kind to people, but when they want to extend that same kindness to you, you reject it, saying its excessive. Aren’t you hurting yourself in the long run?”

“Seungkwan,” I hold my head in my hands, “I can’t just change my way of thinking.”

“Yes, I know,” he shakes his head, “just that—you should try at least.”

—

When I enter my apartment that evening, there’s a cloud hanging over my head. Its not simply the absence of Jihoon, but also Seungkwan’s words. To think that I haven’t been trying to accept the attentions of people, well, why am I trying to deny it? its correct.

My phone rings, and I pick it up without even checking the caller ID, “hello?”

“I had to hear from Jihoon that you had moved.”

I sigh. This is the last think I wanted to do at this moment, have a conversation with my mother, “sorry, I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk to anyone. I was too busy with work these past few weeks.”

“Still, it would have been nice to know that you moved, from you, and not from Jihoon.”

“Wait, mom, why—why are you talking to Jihoon instead of me?”

My mother laughs on the other end. It’s a nice thing, to hear her laugh, “because Jihoon, no, not just him, all of your friends call me more than you do. Jihoon even came by our house a few weeks ago, and had a meal with us.”

I sigh, “really, Jihoon—he’s going to piss me off at this rate.”

“No, don’t take out your frustrations on Jihoon. He’s a nice boy.”

I wonder how my mother would react if I told her that her ‘nice boy’ stormed into my apartment and told me he was in love with me ever since he went for his military service. She would probably jump with joy. “Sorry, mom,” I say, hoping my thoughts aren’t seeping into my voice, “I just started a new column at work.”

“Really? That’s so nice, I hope they aren’t overworking you.”

“No, mom, they’re not. I came home right on time today.”

“That’s good.” She says. I say nothing. What else is there to say? For someone who’s been alienated form their family for so long, all that remains is a string of hollow formalities and conversations that die out in a moment.

“How’s my sister?” I ask, in an effort to continue the conversation, “has she talked to you recently?”

My mother perks right up, “have I told you, your sister is getting married? She’s marrying Yong-Hwa in the spring. Has she not told you yet?”

In fact, my sister had told me, had told me how she was getting married to the love of her life, a prosecutor, and how she was envisioning the rest of her life with him, with children, a happy home, and more. It made me jealous; to see someone achieve their dreams when you are struggling with your own is not an easy thing.

“I heard,” I say, “how’s dad? Are his health problems persisting? Should I send more vitamins?”

“No, no, he’s perfectly fine. He’s still working as a lawyer, even though the doctor has told him not to. He says he’ll continue to work till he’s eighty.”

“Hah…dealing with father is tiring, isn’t it?” I groan, “I’ll come down the next time I get some time off. I’ll talk him into retiring properly.”

“You don’t have to do that,” my mother says, “knowing that you’re working hard is good enough for me, at least, this way, I can think that you’re doing well.”

“That’s good, then,” I reply, “sorry, mom, I’m getting another call. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t go for too long without talking to us.”

This is fine. To know that my parents are doing well, its okay. I can hold on for longer if that’s what helps them. I’ll be the daughter they’re proud of.

—

I’ve been wandering for far too long. Always trying to be the best version of myself. But what lies at the end of this journey? Is it just a means of fulfilling my parents’ wishes?

On most days, I want to be alone. So, I push people away, just to benefit myself. It has got nothing to do with how I feel about them, it’s just how I feel most at ease. I’ve always been on my own, its just easier. Its easier to be the person people relied on, instead of the person who had to rely on others. But just for once, I’d like someone to tell me that it will be okay. It will be okay to break down, that it will be okay if I fail. My life has been so barren, that even trying to do anything otherwise is too much. For so long I’ve been someone whose life has been dictated by the wishes of others, that I fear I wont even be able to live well if I decided to live by my own.

What does it mean, to have a dream? I had a letter sent to me, saying that their dream is to find happiness on their own. Well, happiness is something that comes after a long time. I’m searching for it too, but I hope you find it, sincerely. To walk towards happiness isn’t something that’s easy. But I appreciate you for taking that step. To walk towards what you want. What you need.

There’s another letter, that says, ‘I don’t have a dream yet’. Don’t worry, a dream isn’t something that’s complicated. They aren’t supposed to be; you’re supposed to find something that makes you happy, that makes you want to live again. That’s all. that is all there is to a dream. All around us, people are living day to day, they’re living without finding what makes them happy. I hope it finds you soon.

I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to find something that gives me purpose. The way I’m living now, it’s enough for me, to live an average existence, to live in a way that gives me peace, if not happiness.

What happens when that peace is taken away, too?

—

Jeonghan throws good parties. That’s a given. It’s not as though he invites many people, or that his parties are a riot of good fun, but he always makes people feel at ease, if not with his actions, then with his words. Its who he is. A source of constant comfort, that I feel guilty for trying to take advantage of.

I arrive at his house after finishing work with a bottle of wine, hesitating before I press the doorbell. Jeonghan lives in a house in the middle of Seoul that he got for dirt cheap because the people who lived in there were violently murdered in the early ‘00s, a fact that I had asked him about once, and he had simply brushed it of by saying that if there were ghosts, he would befriend them. I’d given up on asking him after that one exchange.

The door opens within ten seconds of me ringing the doorbell, and Jeonghan greets me with a wide smile, “I thought you wouldn’t come! Can I give you a hug?”

I nod, “I told you I would be there,” but the rest of my sentence is drowned out by Jeonghan enveloping me into a large hug. He smells like an expensive perfume, mixed with the familiar smell of chicken and beer. Ah, so its that kind of party.

“Make yourself at home, the rest of them already have.” He says, ushering me into the living room, “the rest of the boys are already here. We were just waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“Because, my dear writer, you’ve always turned down any invites for parties for five years now. Now that you’ve accepted my invite, you’re the star of this gathering.”

I don’t say anything, but my discomfort must have shown on my face, because he suddenly stops me, “hey, just so you know, I meant that as a joke. Seungcheol just got a big promotion at work, so he’s been bragging about that for an hour now. I doubt anyone will pay attention to you.”

“That’s nice.”

All around the low table, there are cans of beer, snacks, and boxes of fried chicken. Jeonghan must have prepared for a lot of people to come. Seungcheol is talking about his job, how he was now the team manager of marketing, and how happy it made him, to have so much responsibility at such a young age. There’s Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan, gossiping about their respective fields of work, and Mingyu is sleeping on the end of the table, while Minghao and Wonwoo talk about how work has been nowadays. Jun is noticeably missing from the group, but I can see him in the kitchen, making himself another drink, and then, there’s Jihoon. Seated between Joshua and Seokmin, talking about something I can’t hear. I stand still in my tracks, unable to move. What do I say? After rejecting him so painfully, what do I say? I’m sorry, Jihoon? Sorry about what? Sorry about not being able to accept genuine affection in the fears that it might ruin the one good thing I have for myself?

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Jeonghan asks, gesturing to a seat beside Jihoon, “I thought you would be more comfortable if you sat beside Jihoon, since you’ve known him for longer.”

In fact, I’d rather sit anywhere other than beside Jihoon, but I take the seat next to him gingerly, and Seokmin eagerly moves over. Seokmin is like a child, eager, soft around the edges, and someone you want to protect, no matter what. Maybe if I could look into people’s minds, Seokmin’s would be pure, devoid of any harshness of the world; is that why I tried to protect him even when I had no right to?

“Noona,” Seokmin giggles, “have I told you about the play I’m performing in? I’ll give you a ticket, so you have to come, okay?”

His energy is so infectious, I can’t help but smile with him, “of course, I’ll come to see you.”

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, his voice so quiet I barely miss it, “you don’t really come to occasions like these.”

“Felt like it,” I mutter, “new year, new me, or should I say new apartment, new me?”

Jihoon laughs, “yeah, you seem like you’ve changed. Your hands are shaking.”

I look down at my hands, and true enough, they’re shaking. Whether from nervousness or something else entirely, I don’t know, but they’re shaking. I ball my hands into fists. Whatever happens, don’t let anyone know what you’re going through. “just tired, perhaps.”

“You have been working too much,” Joshua pipes up, “you never reply to any of my texts anymore.”

“That’s because you keep asking me about flower arrangements,” I reply, “why would I look at flowers when I can’t smell them?”

“Sunbae is very busy at the news desk,” Seungkwan pipes up, “did you know, she has a new co—”

“Shut up, Seungkwan,” I mutter, reaching over to stuff a chicken leg in his mouth, “the work has been just harder these few days.”

Jihoon stares at me; it’s the same look he has in his eyes whenever he’s landed on something to probe, and sure enough, he asks, “why? What’s going on at the office?”

“Nothing!” I say, far too quick for it to even go past Seokmin or Joshua, (whom everyone, not just me, have deemed as the most scammable) “its nothing! Seungkwan just wanted to brag about his workload to everyone else.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?” Vernon asks, but is largely ignored by Jeonghan (my angel prince saviour Jeonghan) who arrives with drinks, a grumpy Jun in tow, announcing, “who wants shots!” and despite pushing thirty, Seungcheol, who had paused bragging about his work promotion, raised his hands, grabbing one of the shot glasses. Even Mingyu wakes up from his nap, raising his hand in the air and grabbing one of the shot glasses. They’re all going to regret it, I think to myself, then, feeling Jihoon’s eyes on me, grab a couple of the shot glasses myself. The drink is sugary, and multicoloured (Jun once wanted to be a bartender in university). It goes down far smoother than expected, since I’ve had Jun’s drinks since university, and they have tasted like battery acid far too many times for me to expect something nice out of his concoctions.

“This is actually nice,” Chan says, “hyung, what did you put in this?”

“Won’t be telling you,” Jun pulls a face, “you’ll just make it for other people and then take credit for it.”

Of course, this ensues in a squabble, with Chan loudly protesting that he would never do that to his beloved Jun-hyung (he would, I know) and Jun proclaiming that Chan is nothing but a dirty jerk who wants to put his grubby little hands, on Jun’s hard work and his creation (most likely, it was from a Reddit forum on bartending). One by one, the rest of them enter the argument, and I lean back into my seat, laughing at their antics. Its always chaos when I meet the boys, but somehow, its also peaceful. They’re loud, boisterous, and from whatever pictures Joshua and Jihoon had shared from their one shared ‘boys’ trip’, dirty as hell (these people laid out a carpet of towels instead of just drying their feet) but they know how to put someone’s mind at ease. Or at least, my mind at ease. I don’t know about others.

Its almost two in the morning when they quiet down. Jeonghan might have bought this house because it was dirt cheap and he wanted to make friends with the ghosts, but this house has one of the most gorgeous verandas I’ve ever seen. It looks out onto a peaceful Seoul street, and in the middle of the night, there’s no one here to complain if I smoke a cigarette.

I light one up, letting out a puff of air as I sit down on the marble flooring. It has been a long time since I smoked a cigarette (three days), and some of the smoke goes into my eyes when I let it out of my lungs. Its not enough to make me cough, but my eyes water nonetheless.

“You can smoke inside, if you want.” Jeonghan appears at the corner of my field of vision, “in fact, I think Minghao is smoking one right now.”

“Just wanted to get away from the noise a little,” I say, shaking the cigarette, “want to sit beside me?”

He shrugs, but crosses his legs and sits beside me on the marble flooring anyway.

After barely a minute, he turns to me, and without any warning, says, “so, has Jihoon told you he’s in love with you?”

I start coughing. Big, hacking coughs, and he just stares at me while I recover. I cannot believe I called him my saviour. “What—what do you mean?”

Jeonghan, the irritating bastard, still has that same, serene smile on his face, “you can’t possibly think that we all spent the last few years with our eyes closed now, have you? We’ve all known about Jihoon’s feelings for you, and now that you’re here, I can see that its reciprocated.”

“Wha-how are you even making these assumptions? I don’t have any feelings for him!” I whisper, “and yes, I know about his feelings. Even if they caught me somewhat by surprise, I’m aware of what kind of feelings he has for me.”

“And?” he leans close, “how does that make you feel?”

“How should it make you feel? I feel worried.”

“Worried?” he pulls a face, “if you wanted to get him off of your back, you’d say something like ‘I feel uncomfortable’, but you aren’t, because you don’t really feel uncomfortable, do you?”

I stare at him, fuck Jeonghan and his perceptive nature. “it’s not that I don’t feel uncomfortable, I just-don’t see the point in his confession.”

“Why? Why would a mere confession have you feeling this way? If you don’t want to accept it, then just say so. No one here,” Jeonghan points to the room, “will fault you for that. In fact, I think they’ll all commend you for it. Jihoon can be a tad bit difficult at times.”

I scoff, “he’s not difficult, he’s just—Jihoon.”

Jeonghan laughs, “see, I knew it. I knew there was something else there that you weren’t letting on. Now, come on, tell me,” and then spreads his arms wide, “tell oppa what’s bothering you.”

“If you refer to yourself as oppa again, I might have to kill you.”

This time, he laughs loud enough for people to hear inside, “fine, fine. I won’t be doing that anymore. But tell me, my dear writer, have you never thought about it? even once?”

I shrug, “of course I have. Everyone has those kinds of thoughts once in a while, I’m no different from the others, of course I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

I shake my head, “nothing good will ever come out of it, because it’s a fifty-fifty chance. We either stick together until the end of time, or we break up and I can’t interact with him ever again.”

“So, you’d prefer to not try at all.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long time, and then finally, shrugs, “it’s your choice. If you don’t want to do something, then you shouldn’t force yourself to. But can I tell you something?”

“Yes?”

“When did he say that he started having feelings for you?”

I think for a moment, “since his military service.”

Jeonghan grins, sly, just the way I know his smile works, “As someone who’s seen Jihoon since his university days, I can tell you something. He’s got it wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes. He’s liked you since the day you walked into his life. There has been no moment in time when he was not in love with you. He might have realised it late in life, but he’s always been in love with you.”

I stare. Jeonghan isn’t the kind of person who makes random statements, so for him to say this, its strange. Jihoon has been in love with me ever since the first day? but that doesn’t make sense. “You do realise he’s dated other people too, while he was friends with me?”

“Of course, I know that. Both you and him have been running away from your actual feelings, but that doesn’t make it any more apparent that you have both been in love with each other since the day you met. Or at least, it has been that way for Jihoon.”

With that, Jeonghan stands up, dusting off his trousers, “there’s a guest bedroom in there for you. If you’re tired, just go inside and sleep.”

I look inside, where Chan is currently trying to balance a beer can on his forehead, “and the rest of them?”

“The rest of them can sleep on the couch,” he says, “it’s the least they can do after creating such a ruckus in my own home.”

“But you invited them.”

There’s a slightly evil glint in his eyes as he says, “yes, yes I did.”

—

The next morning, I wake up to people talking all over themselves, and the smell of pancakes wafting in the air. That has got to be Joshua. After cleaning up in the attached bathroom, I walk out of the guest bedroom, coming face-to-face with Jun, who’s carrying in his hands a very large tray, heaped with pancakes and a singular glass of milk.

“Is this for me?” I ask, and he nods, gesturing towards the kitchen, where Joshua is busy cooking a meal for thirteen people. Or fourteen, if you count me.

“Sorry, I can’t have breakfast right now,” I sidestep past him, and Jun follows me out into the kitchen, “sorry, but I have to leave right now.”

“Without having breakfast?” Jun asks, setting the tray down, where Chan promptly picks one up and stuffs it into his face, “you should have something at least.”

“Had too much to drink last night,” I offer up as a feeble excuse, avoiding Jihoon’s gaze. It’s strange, piercing in a way that I am not really used to, “I should probably get going. There’s still so much to be done in my apartment.”

“Speaking of apartments,” Wonwoo speaks through a mouthful of pancake, “when are you going to call us all over?”

“As soon as I can,” I reply, “I’ll host a potluck. You all can bring a dish, and it’ll be a party.”

“Instead of that, just make Mingyu cook,” Soonyoung grins, “he’ll be eager to help if it involves you. And cooking. But mostly, you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Jihoon stands up, slipping on his stupid khaki jacket, “here, I’ll give you a ride. Come on, then.”

“Ah but hyung, you still have so much on your plate—” Chan is promptly cut off in the middle of his sentence by a swift elbow to the ribs by Seungkwan, “hyung! Why the hell did you do that?”

Jihoon ignores the squabble currently breaking out at the dining table, and stares at me, his car keys dangling from his left hand, “want to come?”

Before I can say anything to accept the offer of a ride, Soonyoung raises a hand, “Jihoon, weren’t you supposed to meet the other producers and sound engineers today? I’m supposed to be there too, but will you not be attending?”

Even though Jeonghan hisses at Soonyoung to shut up, I can already see the cogs in Jihoon’s mind turning. Clearly, he wanted to talk to me, or at least, he wanted to make an effort to talk to me, “I’ll take a taxi, then.” I say, trying to make an excuse for myself, “don’t worry, Jihoon, you don’t have to drop me home.”

“No, I can drop you off and then go to the office,” he begins, but Joshua cuts him off (while wearing a Rilakkuma apron) saying, “can’t Mingyu take her home? He’s going in the same direction as her, so he can drop her easily. You don’t have to overexert yourself and drop her off at the apartment when you’re going in the opposite direction.”

While not one to turn down a free ride, I raise my hand to complain that I don’t need to take Mingyu’s car to go back home, but Mingyu walks into the room at that moment, and before I can say anything, Joshua turns to him, saying, “are you going back home right now?”

“Yes, hyung, I’m off for the weekend since Minghao is handling the meetings this time around,” he says brightly, “I can drop her off!”

“That’s settled, then,” Chan announces, “Jihoon-hyung can take Soonyoung to the company.”

“You brat,” Soonyoung scowls, “why is Jihoon hyung and I’m just Soonyoung? Do you have no respect for your elders?”

“I once saw you vomit into a flowerpot,” Chan says, “at that moment, you lost all respect in my eyes.”

Before another scuffle can break out over breakfast, Mingyu says loudly, “I’m leaving then!”

—

I’m a big fan of travelling in silence. Even if it is with someone I like, I prefer to sit in silence and contemplate, instead of chattering on about my life. That’s a lie. Mingyu chatters on and on about the new collection and how its selling better than he or Minghao expected, “This is such great news for a fashion brand that was launched less than a decade ago, noona,” he says, while driving his fancy car, and I sit still in my seat and pray that he hasn’t noticed the awkwardness between me and Jihoon. I don’t expect him to notice, either. Mingyu might be nice and well-meaning, but he’s also painfully oblivious.

Which is why it takes me by surprise when he turns to me, while the car is halted at a stop sign, and says, “so, have you figured out what to tell Jihoon-hyung yet?”

I cough, “how-how did you know about that?”

Mingyu laughs, “you think we all were unaware of how he feels towards you? Pfft. Noona, we’ve been observing him since he was in university. He’s always been gone for you.”

I stare resolutely out of the window, “you’re evidently kidding.”

“Noona. He used to stay up with you when you had exams, he used to make sure you weren’t dead when you used to hibernate for long periods of time, he even had a space for you in the stupid apartment studio, are you seriously telling me you had no idea that he was in love with you all this while?”

“Of course, I didn’t!” I want to scream and tear out my hair in frustration, “of course not! I thought he was just looking out for me because I was his only female friend, and after university, I thought to myself, that this is how he usually is! Why would I think that he’s in love with me?”

“Well, he thought that it would be enough to impress you.”

“We were twenty-two! I thought he was an immature weirdo who had no idea how to maintain female friendships!”

“Yes, he’s usually like that,” Mingyu resumes driving, “but he’s got degrees of being familiar.”

“I know. Jihoon’s like a cat. He approaches you at his own pace. Doing anything else will just push him off.”

Mingyu laughs, “you know what, noona, I think you’re a lot like a cat too.”

“Kim Mingyu, watch what you’re saying.”

He grins, “you know I’m correct.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it this way.”

“The way I see it,” he says, slowing down as the car turns into the parking lot of the apartment, “you’ve always approached people at your own pace too. Seokmin and I were overenthusiastic when meeting you for the first time, and you refused to even acknowledge me for the rest of the semester.”

“Sorry about that, really.”

“We didn’t mind then, and we don’t mind now,” he shrugs, “its just who you are. And to accept the kind of person that one is, and then to continue caring for them, yeah, that’s love.”

“Jihoon’s just my friend,” I say, getting out of the car, “he’s just my friend, nothing more.”

“Noona, the fact that you keep repeating this to all of us, makes me wonder who it is that you’re trying to convince. Is it me, the rest of us, Jihoon-hyung, or yourself?”

“Kim Mingyu,” I warn, “you’re overstepping.”

“Sorry, noona, but I have to ask,” he walks into the elevator after me, “have you always seen him as a friend, and nothing more? I saw how you used to, no, how you still treat him differently than the rest of us. You’ve always had a soft spot where he was concerned. In fact, you still do, and you’re hiding it.”

“Drop it, Mingyu. You have no idea what happened the last time I said anything about this.”

The elevator dings, opening onto our floor, and Mingyu steps out right behind me, “Then tell us, noona. We, all of us, Jihoon-hyung, everyone around you—we are stumbling around in the dark because you’ve been so closed off about your past.”

I shake my head, pressing the keys in the keypad lock, “maybe, you shouldn’t be knowing about this one, Mingyu.”

The door closes behind me with an audible click, and even without pressing an eye to the keyhole, I know Mingyu is still standing in front of my door, deliberating over whether or not to knock. In the end, his loyalty wins over his curiosity; he walks away, over to his own apartment.

I sink into a heap at the doorway. What do I do? I know I’ve told Jihoon to ignore the confession and be exactly as we were before, but that is not possible anymore, now that I know how he feels towards me. every interaction I have with him will be grappling with this same truth, and I’ll always be wondering about how he feels towards me.

Out of habit, I pull my phone out of my pocket, swiping through messages and emails, when one of them catches my eye. It’s a simple, single-line message.

Read your column. I know its anonymous, but I know how you write.

—Sungwon

How bad is rock bottom? Is it possible to go below that? I have to remind myself to breathe, as I slowly collect myself from the floor, and go about the rest of my morning. Of course, I shouldn’t think about the people who have left me behind. It’s a disservice to myself. I’ve spent enough time and money in therapy to know that. But what happens when the past refuses to let go of you?

I dial the first number I can get my hands on. After three rings, Jeonghan picks up, his cheerful voice filling the line, “hi! Did you reach home already? Did Mingyu crash the car?”

“Oppa.” I say, “you have to listen to me carefully.”

“Why?” Jeonghan’s voice, so cheerful moments before, has been filled with anxiety, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, even as Jihoon’s voice floats over the line, yelling is she okay? “don’t let Jihoon know anything’s happened, please.”

“Yes, you reached fine?” Jeonghan says, voice nonchalant, “okay, I’m in another room, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jeonghan-oppa.” It’s taking all have to not break into sobs, “I once told a friend, that I liked them.”

“Okay, and?” his voice is kind, so kind, that it drowns out the other voices in my mind saying you don’t deserve this, “what happened?”

“He said—he told me that I’d ruined our friendship, and he never talked to me after that.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to hear that. What else can I say, that will help you feel better?”

“Just—hear me out, for now,” I continue, “and he’s never contacted me, but all of a sudden, he sent me an email last night.”

“What did he say in the email?”

“That he’s been following my writing. I don’t understand, how is it easy for people to be like this when they’ve hurt someone else?”

“Are you afraid Jihoon is going to break off all contact with you, and then email you years later like some kind of pathetic loser?” he scoffs, “if he did that, I would be first in line to break his legs.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m going to be that person to Jihoon,” I sob, “I think I’m going to hurt him and leave him behind, and that I’ll be the person to deal him that cruel hand.”

The line is silent on the other end.

“Jeonghan? Are you there?” I ask.

“It’s me.” Jihoon’s voice sounds rough around the edges, as though he’s been crying, “I heard everything.”

“Jihoon.” I plead, “please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you.”

“I’m coming over in ten minutes,” he mutters, hanging up.

And it’s done. Over. Fuck. I’ve thrown away years of friendship because I didn’t want to accept my own emotions and grow beyond the scared girl I was as a child.

I want to cry, but even that effort is too much for me, sinking down into a heap in the middle of my living room, listening to the sounds of the wall clock ticking down every second.

Even before ten minutes are up, the keypad beeps, before the door opens to reveal a very windswept Jihoon.

“How did you know my password?” is the only thing I can say to him.

He rolls his eyes, “you use the same password as my studio. Of course, I know your password.”

“Fair.”

Jihoon stares at me for a beat, then takes a deep breath, before kneeling down on the floor beside me, “I overheard everything.”

“I’m going to curse Jeonghan and his high-volume phone,” I mutter, “I told him to keep it a secret.”

“To be fair, he was only protecting you.” Jihoon laughs, “he didn’t know I was more persistent than he could ever imagine.”

I shoot him a dirty look. Jihoon sighs, “look, I know, the way I said things to you, wasn’t the most ideal��”

“They were horrible, actually,” I cut in, “you yelled at me that you loved me, and then you left.”

“—man, just let me finish,” Jihoon says, without any real spite, “but I wanted to tell you, that my feelings still haven’t, and will not in the future, affect the way I see you. I’ve always been proud to call you my friend, even if you keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t keep that many secrets.” I mutter.

“Really? Then what about the whole anonymous column thing?”

“You knew about that?”

Jihoon scoffs, “I’ve seen you write since the beginning of university. I know how you write better than anyone else, of course, I knew it was you.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m respectful.”

I scowl, “continue.”

“I just wanted to say that even if you wanted to push me away, you can’t,” Jihoon says, smug smile on his face, “I’m impossible to get rid of.”

“You’re not selling yourself very well.”

“You still haven’t given me an answer to my confession.”

“Look, Jihoon, it would never work,” I say, turning away from him, “we know too much about each other. We’ve seen each other’s worst moments. And what if we break up? Who’s going to tell the rest of the boys that we no longer have the same dynamic that we used to have and that its going to be different around us? They have the tact of a bull; you know how they are going to be.”

“That’s them,” he replies, “I’m asking about you. I want to know what you think.”

I sigh. Jihoon’s face is remarkably close to me; from here I can make out the tiny little freckles he has, and the way his eyes are shining, “I’m scared.”

His skin is so soft under my touch, has he always been this way? Jihoon leans into my touch as if he’s never felt anything like this, “scared of what?”

“That I’ll like you too much. That once I take a step forward, it’ll be too difficult to restrain myself again.”

Jihoon laughs, the tip of his nose touching mine, “one step forward, is okay. It’s allowed.”

“Are you quoting Crash Landing on You?” I laugh, even as his lips touch mine.

Kissing Jihoon is an experience; his skin feels soft under my touch, but his lips are insistent against mine, demanding and reverent alternatively, as though he can’t believe his luck that he’s kissing me, or that this is a dream, and what he needs to do is possess it, and then, this memory of a moment will be forever engraved in his heart. My hands go to the back of his neck, where his hair is softer than usual—has he washed it—but all I can feel, under my fingers, is how his heart beats, quicker than I’ve ever imagined it to be, and how it mirrors my own.

I don’t want this moment to end.

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 10 days ago

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Love To Watch You Leave: Part 1

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Eventual Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol

—————————

18+ Only

—————————

Since you can remember, Bradley Bradshaw has been the bane of your existence.

Your earliest recollection of him is when you moved to town, just next door to him. He was a good 5 years older than you, but you immediately had a huge crush on him.

This was quickly squashed when he began to tease you, and then teasing turned to bullying, and you swore you’d spend the rest of your life hating him.

You remember seeing him playing in his garden when you were 7, hanging some toy planes in a tree and shooting them out with his slingshot.

You meandered over in your little yellow dress, hair curled and all of your best glittery bracelets on, you looked adorable and we’re confident he would think you were the bees knees.

You stood watching him destroy his toy planes, patiently waiting for him to notice you.

Eventually you spoke up, “That looks like fun, can I play?”

Bradley turned around to eye you up, the 12 year old glaring at you like he’d never seen a girl before. He then turned back around, ignoring you, and continued to shoot at his planes.

You walked closer and looked up at him.

“I’m Y/N! What’s your name?”

Bradley scowled down at you, “This game isn’t for girls, and my name is none of your business, kid, now scram.”

Your smile fell from your face, and you crossed your arms with a huff, “That’s rude. I’m gonna tell my mom if you don’t let me play with you.”

Bradley lifted his slingshot and aimed it right at you, you screamed and ducked before running back to your house.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Bradley shot a pebble at you, but luckily his aim was still shocking and he missed.

From that day onwards, you tried to steer clear of the mean boy next door, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as your mom became friends with his mom. They spent a lot of time chatting on the steps in front of each others houses, and tried very hard to coax you and Bradley to play together.

“I don’t want to go over, can’t I just stay here?” You argued one day, your mom brushing your soft locks as she got you ready for a play date next door.

“No my love, I can’t leave you home alone. Carole has kindly made us lunch so it would be rude not to go, wouldn’t it?” She said softly. Your mom was so gentle but it was hard to argue with her reasoning.

You nodded sulkily, and a few minutes later you were being carted off to the Bradshaws, your hand in your moms and eyes red from your crocodile tears.

Carole welcomed you inside, but Bradley was nowhere to be seen, much to your relief.

You liked Carole, she was warm and friendly, much like your own mom, and you were more than happy to sit with the adults and converse about your new barbie and how school was going, but much to your dismay, Carole took your hand and guided you to her sons bedroom.

“Here you go sweetheart, Bradley’s inside, I’m sure he’ll let you play with any of his toys.” She said sweetly, pushing the door open and nudging you inside.

The bedroom was blue and covered with model airplanes and cars, very much a boys bedroom, and Bradley sat in the centre of his bed, tearing apart an old plastic truck he’d clearly damaged during one of his rather destructive play times.

You stood awkwardly at the door as Carole walked away.

Bradley glanced up at you before looking back down at his toy, tearing bits of plastic off. “If you touch any of my stuff I’ll get you with my slingshot. I’ve been practicing.”

You frowned and your arms crossed over your polka dot dress. “My mom says if a boy is mean to you, it means he likes you.” You stated confidently.

Bradley pulled a face and stuck his tongue out in disgust, “Gross, girls have cooties, and you look like you have the most cooties out of everyone. And your pigtails are stupid.”

You went red with rage, how dare he insult your hair. Angrily you balled your hands into fists and stormed over to Bradley, landing a punch against his arm. He barely winced, but he turned and shoved you so hard that you landed with an ‘ooph’ on the ground.

You burst into tears, wailing for your mom who quickly came to your aid.

“Baby what happened?” She cooed, scooping you up in her arms as Carole glared down at Bradley.

“He- he PUSHED me!” You wailed, and Bradley scowled at you.

“She punched me first!” He argued.

Unfortunately for your mom and Carole, this little spat resulted in you having to go home early, and they resorted to chatting in the garden going forward, but you were more than happy not to have to see Bradley much going forward.

You would occasionally see him playing in the front garden, but you’d just ignore him and play by yourself. Eventually you made friends and Bradley was actually nice to them, but still treated you as if you had a highly contagious disease.

Your little heart hated him to the best of its ability, and you avoided him like the plague, yet he would still throw water balloons at you when you weren’t looking, or tell his friends that you were weird. Sometimes he would call you names as he drove past on his bike, but all of that was nothing compared to when you started high school.

Bradley was in his final year as you started your first, and still as immature as the day you met him, he made your life a living hell.

You remembered your first day for all of the wrong reasons.

You met up with your friends at the front gate, all walking in for your first day of high school together, excited about what was to come and nervous at the same time. You had bought cute matching stationary and a new outfit for the first day of school, and your mom had dropped you off, as proud as a mother could be.

But all of that excitement was quickly dampened as soon as you saw Bradley in the corridor, the smile on your face dropping like melted ice cream.

He had spotted you first, staring at you menacingly from his circle of friends down the further end of the corridor.

“Who’s that, your little girlfriend?” One of his friends teased, a dorky looking guy.

“Her? Not a chance. She’s my weird neighbour. She’s been obsessed with me since we were kids.” He told his friends.

You had stopped listening to your friends chatting now, your ears straining to make out Bradley’s words as your face grew blood red.

“Her dad even had to leave the country just to get away from her, she’s a psycho. Once had to actually shove her off of me just to get her to take a hint.” You watched in horror as he lied to his friends, your heart shattering when he brought up your dad.

Your dad had moved to the UK when he divorced your mom after finding someone else. You didn’t hate him for it, but it hurt that he’d abandoned you so easily, and hearing Bradley twist the situation made you want to throw up.

You ran into the bathroom and began to sob, you contemplated even just calling your mom to pick you up, not sure you could ever show your face again, but your friends managed to calm you down and you agreed to see the day through.

You had hoped his bullying would end there, but most days you couldn’t even get to classes without either Bradley or one of his stupid friends mocking you, calling you names or spreading a rumour. Retaliating only made it worse, and his friends would argue that you were obsessed with him and we’re finding reasons to speak to him, so eventually you stopped defending yourself.

Once you even made the mistake of wearing white jeans to school, and Bradley squeezed ketchup down the back of them as he walked past you in the cafeteria, then loudly exclaiming that you’d gotten your period.

Thankfully, once Bradley had graduated high school, you barely had to deal with him anymore, and the rest of high school passed in a much lighter fashion.

Around summer time in 9th grade however, your world came crashing down suddenly, when Carole passed away. You’d come to adore her, even if her son was your worst nightmare.

You and your mom mourned her but Bradley of course was in the worst state.

Alone in his moms house, your mom would often

go over and cook dinner for him, ensuring he had anything he needed. She had asked Bradley to come and stay, but he had declined politely, saying he was able to look after himself and would rather be in his own home.

You actually felt bad for him, and despite your troubled past with him, you decided to offer your condolences.

Braving it, you walked over to his house and knocked on the door. A few minutes passed without an answer, so you knocked again.

Eventually you decided to let yourself in, so you pushed the door open and carefully stepped inside.

“Bradley?” You called out. The house felt empty and sounded even more so. You ventured further in and checked the lounge, kitchen and hallway. Nothing.

Bradley’s room was empty, so you checked Carole’s last, and to your surprise Bradley was curled up on his moms bed, fast asleep.

You thought about just leaving, which you probably should have, but something inside you urged you forward. You sat at the end of the bed and waited. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, not sure what you could even say or do to make him feel better. You weren’t even sure why you were trying to make him feel better, but your heart ached for him.

Slowly you reached out and placed a gentle hand against his ankle, shaking him.

Bradley stirred, but didn’t seem to wake, so you shook him again.

“Bradley.” You whispered.

He suddenly shot up in bed, a look of confusion on his face as he stared at you groggily.

“What are you doing here?” He spat.

“I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry, for your loss. I can’t… can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I didn’t like the thought of you being all alone so I-“

He cut you off with a snap, “So you thought you’d just break into my house and sit here like a creep, watching me?”

You didn’t know what to say, you were surprised by his level of anger, even for Bradley.

“No, I knocked, I just-“

“What is wrong with you? Can you just get out? Leave me the fuck alone, Y/N.” He laid back down and turned his back on you, and you fought back tears as you left.

You decided that you were officially done with Bradley Bradshaw then and there, and when he joined the navy, you thought if you never saw him again, it would still be too soon.

————————————

After high school, you went on to study Meteorology in New York, and would often visit home, or your mom would come to New York to visit you, but not once did you see Bradley, despite the fact that he had not yet sold Carole’s house.

You were quite relieved, but over the years the hatred subsided slightly, although it never fully went away. As an adult you grew past it, you were the bigger person and you pitied him in the end.

In college you met someone and moved in together, life was actually looking up, but after 7 years together and with your studies now finished, your relationship quickly fell apart, and you decided to move back home.

 Around a week after moving back home, you sat on the front porch reading your new book, checking your phone every half an hour, waiting to hear back about job interviews, when a familiar truck pulled up outside Carole’s house.

You looked up, squinting against the afternoon sun, and your body turned cold.

Bradley.

You hadn’t seen him in many years, thankfully, and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to notice you.

You ducked your head down and pretended to read, holding your breath as you waited for him to go inside. Unfortunately today was not your lucky day and you heard the hard ground crunch under his boots.

“Well I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

His deep voice rang out across your garden. You groaned and looked up at him. He looked different. He was big now, muscles bulging out of every limb, taller than you’d remembered and a corny porn star moustache on his lip. He still had the same curls, but they were now tinted gold by the sun and his skin had a warmer tone.

He looked good, you couldn’t deny that.

“Bradshaw. Long time no see, sad that my record is broken.” You broke eye contact and looked back down at your book, hoping he’d take a hint and leave.

Bradley chuckled dryly, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“I hear your relationship crashed and burned. Can’t say it surprises me.” He smirked.

“Eat a dick, Bradley.” You said as you got up and went to move inside.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed.” He mumbled.

You suddenly grew hot, rage bubbling up under your skin, and you spun round to face him.

“Me?! Good to see you’re still the same ass face as you were 10 years ago.” You spat back.

“Wow, great come back, Einstein. Is that what you left to study? If so you really should go back to school.”

He was getting under your skin and he knew it, yet he stood there as cool as a cucumber.

“Fuck you!” You yelled, throwing your book at him. It hit his shoulder as he moved to block it and landed on the ground with a thump.

“Jeez, calm down, you’re so feisty now.” He bent to pick up your book and began reading an except.

“And she longed to run her hands through his soft golden locks-“

You ran down the steps and tried to grab the book, “Give that back.” But he held it out of reach.

“and dreamt of his lips on hers, but it never would be, not when he was betrothed to another.” He chuckled as he read, finding it amusing how you struggled to reach. “Wow, you really do need this book, considering it’s all the action you’re gonna get.”

You huffed as he shoved the book into your chest. “I thought you would have grown up by now, but I really shouldn’t be surprised to see you’re still the same immature child you always were.” You turned to walk into the house just as your mom came to see what all the commotion was.

She beamed as she laid eyes on Bradley and stuck out her arms for a hug, walking down the steps towards him, “Sweetheart! How are you?”

Bradley happily hugged her back and grinned over her shoulder at you. “I’m good Elsie, thank you, how are you?” As if butter wouldn’t melt.

“I’m good my love, I see you’ve been catching up with my darling daughter, don’t let me interrupt. Hope you’ll come over for dinner some time before you get deployed again!” She smiled at you both as she went back into the house.

You glared at Bradley. “Please don’t tell me you’ve started dating my mom?”

You joked.

Bradley winked at you as he turned to walk away, “Rather your mom than you.” He replied.

You knew he was joking, or at least you hoped, but it stung that Bradley hadn’t changed, and what was worse was that he seemingly knew all about your failed relationship yet you knew nothing about his life. The last thing you wanted was for him to have yet another one-up on you.

Little did you know that would be the very least of your worries that month.

———————————

- Part 2 Here -

#rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #miles teller x reader #miles teller #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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hugsandchaos · 3 months ago

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Danny: Believe it or not, getting attacked by a monster I’ve never seen before after falling through a weird portal that just opened up beneath me isn’t the strangest way I’ve almost died.

Legend: Then what is?

Danny: It’s a long story, but to make it short, my family is banned from every Olive Garden restaurant in the state.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #linked universe #linked universe legend #lu legend

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago

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Garden of Secrets [36] - Middlemist Red

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Patience has its rewards.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 4200

Series Masterlist

Rumors were an inseparable part of the ton, and you were well aware of that. Every season people found different things to gossip about and you’d had your fair share of being the subject of the said gossip, so it wasn’t supposed to be this surprising that they kept talking even after you got married.

But it didn’t mean you liked this particular rumor.

This was the second time Lady Whistledown had mentioned just how close Margery and Benedict seemed to be with each other, joking and laughing in the park when they ran into each other and even though you knew it was nonsense, you still couldn’t help the discomfort at the pit of your stomach.

Especially now that you were seeing it happen on the other side of the park.

“If I see your parents, I’ll give them a piece of my mind,” Lottie said, making you turn your glances to her. “They show up and make you feel bad all of a sudden? How dare they?”

“Lottie—”

“And to think they’ve been mean to you all this time?”

Well, what your parents had done was a bit more than just being mean to you, but you weren’t going to correct her on that.

“Simply unacceptable,” Lottie said, pointing at you with the cookie she was holding. “I’ll be with you at all times starting now, so that if they dare bother you again, I can handle them.”

You repressed a laugh.

“Much appreciated,” you said. “But you can’t be with me at all times Lottie, you have a wedding to plan.”

A smile brightened up her face. “I do!” she said. “But nevertheless Y/N, you are alright are you not?”

“Sure,” you said. “We don’t even need to talk about it.”

Lottie took a deep breath.

“I hate to ask, you know I do,” she said. “But have you seen Whistledown?”

Your eyes found Margery and Benedict who looked very much interested in their own conversation, Benedict frowning before he nodded at something Margery told him.

“It’s nonsense,” you forced yourself to say, and Lottie pressed her lips together.

“It is, but…” she said. “You know what? I suddenly remembered I had something to say to Benny, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait—Lottie no!” you whispered but she had already walked away from you to Benedict and Margery. Benedict turned to her, and raised his brows at something she said, then quickly bid Margery goodbye and followed Lottie as she started walking towards the street vendor to buy some lemonade while Margery walked to Lucy.

“Y/N,” you heard Anthony’s voice and looked over your shoulder.

“Anthony,” you said. “Hello.”

“May I?” he motioned at the spot beside you and you tilted your head in confusion, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Of course.”

“How have you been?”

“Fine—you never ask me how I’ve been,” you said, confusion laced in your voice. “What is happening? Are you sick?”

“No?”

“Are you dying?” you asked, making him roll his eyes. “It would be very thoughtless of you to die before you spend a lot of years with Lottie as a married couple, she’s very much in love with you so if you—”

“I’m not,” he cut you off. “It’s just that, Benedict mentioned a pair of unwelcomed guests.”

You pursed your lips, trying to shake off the discomfort.

“And?” you asked. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“Not much to be honest,” Anthony said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know the details nor do I need to. I just want you to know that we’re family, so whatever you need, whatever you want, just tell me, alright? No questions asked.”

You blinked a couple of times. “…Easy as that?”

“Easy as that.”

“I thought you would have a thousand questions.”

“I don’t need to hear a thousand answers to protect my family,” he stated. “You’re one of us now. We will always be there for you, no matter what.”

You blinked a couple of times, the back of your eyes burning as a warmth spread through your chest, but before you could say anything, Benedict and Lottie approached you with the lemonade bottles. Benedict pulled his brows together, then motioned between you two.

“No one appears to be stabbed,” he commented. “Is it snowing in hell?”

“Benny!” Lottie elbowed him and he repressed a grin.

“Just wondering,” he said as he held out the lemonade bottle and you took it from him. “Would you like to walk?”

“I would actually,” you said and took his hand, your heart skipping a beat as he pulled you up to your feet, but he didn’t let go of your hand contrary to before. You repressed a smile, then stole a look at Lottie’s maid before turning to Lottie and Anthony.

“Don’t do something scandalous,” you said with a grin, making Benedict chuckle and Lottie gasp, then you started walking beside Benedict.

“So Lottie finally forgave you completely,” you asked him and he nodded his head.

“Took forever but yes,” he said and cleared his throat. “She did mention that Whistledown piece though.”

You raised your brows. “…Oh.”

“I hope you know there’s nothing like that,” he said. “Margery is a very good friend of mine, not to mention I would never do that to you.”

“No I know,” you said in a hurried manner. “I mean if I’m honest, I didn’t even bring it up because it was such nonsense that I almost forgot.”

Well, that was a complete and utter lie, but lucky for you, Benedict seemed to have bought it.

“Right,” he said, nodding his head fervently. “Of course. Lady Whistledown must be running out of gossip to write about.”

“Yeah!” you forced a dry laughter. “I mean you and Margery? Honestly?”

“Unbelievable.”

You took a sip of your lemonade, then motioned between you two. “Because, you know—we’re married.”

“Happily married,” he added in a haste and you nodded.

“Albeit a bit untraditionally.”

“Well—”

“Your mother assumed I was pregnant earlier.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have said it right when he was sipping his lemonade because he choked on it, pulling the bottle from his lips and coughing before hitting his chest.

“Oh,” he said, taking a deep breath. “And what did you say?”

“Nonexistent Bridgerton remains to be nonexistent,” you joked and scrunched up your nose. “I just said no.”

“Interesting assumption.”

“Uh huh,” you said. “Interesting and impossible at the same time.”

“I’m quite familiar with that concept,” he murmured and you frowned.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s go by the river, shall we?”

After the park, you had decided to go to your uncle and aunt’s house to spend some time with them and Teddy. Granted you still felt on edge especially because you were very well aware of the fact that both your parents knew about their house, and Teddy living there. When you got off the carriage, you looked around and let out a relieved breath upon not seeing either of them, then made your way to the house.

Thankfully, your aunt had no idea about what happened between Benedict and your father because you had only told your uncle at the night of the ball that your father had shown up.

“I don’t know how you and Benedict did it,” your aunt told you, excitement and pride apparent in her voice as a maid brought you tea and biscuits. “But Sir Henry Granville and Lord Gordon Easton! At my ball!”

“They run in the same social circle, auntie,” you said with a small smile. “All artists do, as it turns out. Benedict introduced me to them.”

“Well everyone in my Social Picnic Club has congratulated me for throwing such a spectacular ball,” she said. “I’ve even heard some say that it would be impossible to top it off, can you believe that?”

“I absolutely can,” you said. “It was a wonderful ball, auntie. You put so much effort into it, and it paid off.”

“With your and Benedict’s contribution.”

“We barely did anything other than inviting some friends,” you said. “Will uncle be at the gentlemen’s club the whole day by the way?”

“Mm hm, he’s with his friends,” she said. “Why?”

“Oh no reason, I just thought I could see him.”

She hummed, looking at you over her teacup and you frowned.

“I know that look,” you said. “What is it?”

“Is this about…” she trailed off. “What was on Whistledown earlier?”

You let out a groan. “Auntie!”

She held up her hands, gesturing surrender.

“It was on Whistledown,” she said. “You cannot blame me for being worried.”

“Just because it’s on Whistledown doesn’t mean it’s the truth,” you said. “In fact, it couldn’t be farther away from the truth. Benedict and I are very happily married, and Margery is merely a friend.”

She raised her brows, taking another sip of her tea.

“I heard that Lady Margery is quite charming—not that she’s anywhere close to you!” she added in a haste. “You are the most charming of course.”

“More like harming,” you mused and she shot you a lighthearted glare.

“Y/N.”

“What?” you said. “Just saying.”

“Benedict is completely in love with you, we all know that,” she said. “The same with you obviously, you are very much in love with him, anyone who looks at you for more than a second could see that.”

You blinked a couple of times, shifting your weight.

“I mean I wouldn’t say—” you said with a nervous laugh. “One could assume it’s not as—”

“Obvious?” she completed your sentence for you and scoffed. “Of course it is. Have you two seen yourselves?”

You cleared your throat, then reached out to take a bite from the biscuit.

“I’m just trying to make sure these nonsense rumors do not affect you two badly, that is all,” she said and you shook your head.

“It’s not—” you started but before you could even complete your sentence, Teddy rushed into the drawing room.

“Y/N!”

“Oh hello there,” you said, opening your arms as he flung himself to you for you to hug him tight. “French lesson is over for the day?”

“Yes!” he said and you pulled back to look at him, then tilted your head at the clumsily tied cravat around his neck. You stole a look at your aunt who looked like she was trying her hardest to keep a straight face, and turned to Teddy.

“What is this?”

“It’s a cravat!” he said, excitement laced in his tone. “Benedict always wears them, did you notice that?”

You bit back at smile. “Oh does he?”

“He does!”

“And now you’re…wearing cravats?”

He nodded, his eyes sparkling.

“I want them in different colors because Benedict has them in different colors, I told uncle and he said he would get me many,” he said. “This is uncle’s as well, you see.”

Your lips curled upwards. “Ah?” you said. “And you chose a green one for today?”

“It’s pale green!”

“Pale green, my apologies.”

“It’s alright, auntie told me it was pale green,” he patted your hand as if trying to console you. “We can learn those together.”

You nodded solemnly.

“That would be wonderful,” you said, reminding yourself not to laugh. “And you chose pale green because…?”

“Benedict was wearing a pale green cravat the other day,” he said, proud of himself for remembering it and you pinched his cheek.

“It looks wonderful on you Teddy.”

“Really?”

You kissed the top of his hair. “Really,”

“He is growing up so fast,” your aunt said, shaking her head with a smile. “I fear I will blink and he will be a gentleman of the ton.”

You let out a laugh and Teddy took a sharp breath.

“Y/N, I will show you my new sculptures!” he said, tugging you by the hand. “I made a dozen of them, come and see!”

“Am I allowed to boast about how I was the first one to see them when you’re a famous sculptor?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll be back auntie,” you said with a grin and stood up, letting Teddy lead you out of the room.

You had spent more time in your uncle’s house than originally planned. Your uncle insisted you stayed for dinner, so you sent Benedict a short note to let him know, inviting him as well but he politely declined, saying that he was in the middle of a painting. After dinner, Teddy showed you how he made some of his sculptures the way Benedict had shown him so by the time you left there, it was already near midnight and raining. A carriage went past your carriage a minute before you arrived home, making you frown and look over your shoulder, but you didn’t have the time to dwell on it much before your carriage entered through the gates and stopped in front of your house. The coachman helped you out and you thanked him, then rushed home to get away from the rain.

“Ma’am,” the housekeeper greeted you and you smiled at her.

“Hello,” you said as a maid took your cloak. “Oh I must change my clothes, it’s raining like crazy outside! Is Paula asleep?”

“No ma’am, I’m here,” Paula said as she rushed to you and you shot her an apologetic grin.

“Please tell me you did not stay up for me.”

“Alright, I will not,” she said and you let out a giggle, then started walking upstairs with her.

“I don’t know where this storm came from, honestly…” you mused, turning the corner in the hallway before peeking at the other end of it where Benedict’s studio was, but there was no light coming from there. “Is Benedict asleep?”

Paula didn’t answer you so you turned your head to look at her better.

“Is Benedict asleep?” you asked again, thinking she didn’t hear you and she shifted her weight.

“No he’s not, ma’am.”

You stopped walking, a frown pinching your brows together.

“Oh?” you said. “Where is he?”

Paula averted her gaze, making your frown deeper.

“Paula?” you said. “What is happening?”

“N—nothing, ma’am.”

“No, something is happening,” you said. “What is it? Has he gone outside or something?”

“He’s home, ma’am.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Where?”

“He is still in the greenhouse I think,” she said, still not looking you in the eye and you blinked a couple of times.

“Greenhouse?” you asked, “Benedict isn’t the gardening type, what is he doing in the greenhouse?”

“They went there earlier, ma’am.”

“They?” you repeated. “Who’s they?”

“Mr. Bridgerton and Lady Margery.”

Your head shot up, your heart dropping to your stomach.

“…I’m sorry?”

“Lady Margery came here an hour after your note saying you would be late arrived,” Paula said in a breath, “She left in her carriage just now, but they both went to the greenhouse straight away when she got here.”

It felt as if the hallway was spinning around you, the fire of fury spreading through your veins.

You had to have been an idiot for not listening to Lady Whistledown’s damn gossip, because apparently Benedict wasted not even a second to prove to you she was right. He was in fact sleeping around just as the rumors said, with Margery, right under your nose in the greenhouse he knew you never stepped foot into ever since you had moved here.

You spun around on your heels to go down the hallway where you came from, then rushed downstairs, your heels echoing on the marble floor. You passed through the foyer, then made your way to the back entrance that led to the backyard where the greenhouse was, but before you could reach there, Benedict stepped inside through the door, a look of surprise crossing his face as soon as he saw you.

“Y/N?”

You passed by him without even acknowledging him, your teeth clenched in anger.

“Wait, where are you—?” he started but you stepped outside into the heavy rain, and strode across the backyard, Benedict catching up with you in seconds.

“Where are you going?”

“Greenhouse,” you spat as the lightning struck in the sky and he stopped dead in his spot for a second before rushing to catch up with you.

“No you can’t—”

“Why not?” you asked through the boom of the thunder, “Can I not see your bachelor’s flat you so conveniently and disrespectfully put near my home?”

He frowned as if he was confused.

“My what?” he asked but you scoffed and kept walking, your head almost pounding from anger. “Y/N no, that’s not—”

“I’m such an idiot,” you said, shaking your head. “To think I was telling everyone Whistledown’s gossip was nonsense while you brought your fucking mistress here the moment you heard I would be late…”

“What?” he asked, shock apparent in his voice as you approached the greenhouse and reached out to hold the handle but he grabbed at your upper arm. “Y/N, just wait a moment—”

You could swear your vision went red as you yanked your arm out of his grip.

“You do not touch me!” you snapped. “I never want to see you ever again, do you hear me? I will apply for divorce tomorrow morning, I will—”

You stopped talking the second you slammed open the greenhouse door, your breath getting caught in your throat as you blinked a couple of times, trying to understand whether you were seeing was in fact real.

You had refused to enter the greenhouse just like you had refused to garden when you and Benedict got married and moved here, and before that, you had seen maybe only five greenhouses in total but none of them looked like this. The large greenhouse looked as if someone had plucked it out of a painting and brought it into life somehow, and you felt your body move on its own accord as you took a step inside almost in a haze. It was entirely made of glass with the plants covering the walls –ivy, if you weren’t mistaken- with a sharp arch on the high ceiling. Even under the moonlight, you could tell the various flowers surrounding you were not among those you could find in anyone’s garden, yours included. It looked so magical that for a couple of seconds you could only stand there and stare with your jaw hanging before approaching a Venus Flytrap, still breathing hard.

“I don’t…” you stammered. “What is this?”

“Well,” Benedict said, leaning back to one of the glass walls. “For starters, it’s not my bachelor’s flat because I don’t have one. It was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow, I figured you could see it better in the sunlight.”

You blinked a couple of times, then turned to look at him. “But Margery—”

“Has been helping me prepare this, along with Mr. Binsted,” Benedict motioned around you. “They know the rare flowers better than I do. I was going to bring you here once it was completed, took more time than I thought it would. I figured since you were outside, it would be easier for the finishing touch. Like I said, I was going to show you tomorrow now that it’s complete.”

You swallowed thickly, all the fury leaving your body as disbelief took over.

“Complete?” you repeated and Benedict offered you a small smile, then nodded towards the center of the glass wall you were close to, making you turn your head to look at the shelf. The lightning struck the sky again, illuminating the whole greenhouse and you took a sharp breath as soon as your eyes fell on the flower.

Middlemist Red.

You had only seen it in the drawings on your plant books, but having spent over a decade wishing you could see it in real life, you would have recognized it anywhere. You weren’t even aware that Benedict had made a mental note of your favorite flower considering you had told him about it only once so many months ago and it was supposed to be impossible to even find it to gaze upon, let alone having it for yourself, for your own greenhouse.

And somehow Benedict had found it and brought it to you.

“It’s not possible,” you rasped out, still unable to look away from the flower. “It’s—it’s impossible to find Middlemist Red, everyone knows that. It’s the rarest flower in the world.”

“I actually sent word around after you told me about it back at the flower exhibit,” he said, making your head turn. “No one knew where to get it but Margery knows someone who knows someone who—well, you get the picture. At first it was just the Middlemist Red, but then we got married and I know you love flowers so I figured maybe you’d like to have all the rare flowers in a place that belonged to you, so…” he motioned around you. “The greenhouse that is.”

You swallowed thickly, still staring at him, both of you completely drenched with the rain pitter pattering against the glass walls.

“It was just a bud at first, the Middlemist,” he added, taking a step toward you. “And apparently you need to be very careful during that period so we had to wait around two months, and they sent it when it bloomed with a gardener who took care of it on the way here, and you obviously would have seen it if you were here so we took it to Margery’s house, and she brought it here and I—”

“You had someone grow the rarest flower in the world and then had it brought here just because I told you it was my favorite flower?” you cut him off, your heart beating in your throat, all your body warm despite the storm outside and he nodded.

“I know you said you wouldn’t garden but when you want to, it’ll all be here,” he said. “I actually have people building a greenhouse back at the country house as we speak, I figured you would want one there as well and—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when you rushed into his arms and pulled him down to crash your lips against his, standing on your tiptoes. Your head was spinning with excitement, the fire engulfing you in its flames once more like it had when he kissed you for the first time that night. He cradled the back of your head, pressing your body closer to his while you melted into his touch and it felt as if you two were the only people left in the world, as if the storm somehow took everything and everyone away but you two.

But much to your displeasure he pulled back, drawing a petulant whine from your lips.

“I can’t,” he stepped back, making you blink dumbly in confusion at just how tormented he looked. “You have no idea how much I want to but I told you before, I will not touch you until you—”

“I love you,” you cut him off, still trying to catch your breath and the lightning lit inside the greenhouse once again, letting you see the absolute shock on his handsome face. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I tempted fate just a little too much it seems,” you tried to joke. “I do – I love you. More than I thought it was possible, more than you could possibly know.”

The thunder boomed through the greenhouse and you took a deep breath, nervousness pulsing through you as the words left your lips.

“So, my heart is yours,” you managed to say, shifting your weight. “If you’ll have it.”

Benedict let out a breath, then strode to you to pull you into a kiss, taking your breath away. The feeling was so intoxicating that every single fear, every ounce of nervousness washed away from your mind until the only thing remained was him, and his burning touch, his lips on yours. He lifted you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist without breaking the kiss and pressed you back to the wall, making you let out a squeal upon feeling the rustle of the ivy leaves behind you, one of the pots slipping a little on the shelf when you accidentally hit it with your elbow.

“No, not the flowers!” you exclaimed with a giggle. “Careful with the flowers!”

“Right, the flowers—” he let out a laugh and turned around with you still in his arms, then laid you down on the floor, his lips brushing yours again. You pushed his drenched shirt off of his body, dragging your fingertips over his chiseled torso, the fire of desire burning through your whole body. He looked so mesmerizing under the moonlight that for a moment you could do nothing but stare at him while he leaned on his forearm, his body covering yours, his hand going to your cheekbone to caress it gently.

“We can stop anytime you want, my love,” he murmured, his words making your heart feel like warm honey in your chest. “You know that, do you not?”

You bit back a smile, then leaned up to brush your lips against his.

“Benedict,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Chapter 37

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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