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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?

a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.

It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.

Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.

Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.

As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.

“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again.

“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position.

He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too.

You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”

You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face.

“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You had a plan.

A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.

Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.

You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.

Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.

You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet.

“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”

Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence.

When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”

Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”

“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.

“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”

“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”

“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle.

You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”

After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.

“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”

You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”

“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?”

You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”

Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip.

“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”

This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.

“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”

You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.

“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it.

You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward.

Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage.

You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”

It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest.

“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”

“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were.

“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”

You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”

“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”

“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”

“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.

“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.

You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.

Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.

Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”

“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips.

You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.

You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.

Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet.

Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top.

He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”

You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”

Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?

You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”

“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“

“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.

Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”

With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.

He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?

“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”

Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”

“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.

“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”

He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”

At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.

“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”

You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”

“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”

“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”

You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind.

Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away.

Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.”

You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“

Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.

Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.

You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly.

“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“

Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”

You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”

“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”

He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.

Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.

“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding.

You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”

Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“

You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.

“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”

Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.

You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.

Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.

“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss.

You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.

“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.

“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.

Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.

“What are you-“

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly.

“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”

Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued.

His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock.

“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.”

You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“

Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”

“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?”

You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”

Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.

“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“

“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.

“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered.

“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”

You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.

“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”

“Shit.” You agreed.

“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable.

“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”

Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.

“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.

Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.

“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”

Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”

“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“

You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.

You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held.

They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.

The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour.

Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.

“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”

“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”

“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”

“Huh?!”

Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”

“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”

Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”

“Yeah.”

He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”

Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”

“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”

“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”

“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”

“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”

Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?”

You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”

Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”

You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?

Wait.

You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying.

It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.

Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.

You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance.

“Are you ready, dear?”

You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”

You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration.

You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.

You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day.

She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.

The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly.

Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”

They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.

Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.

You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.

Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.

He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.

The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”

You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.

In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.

Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?

Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well.

“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”

Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…

Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.

This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”

Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”

You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.

Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.

Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”

You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash.

In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.

You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.

Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you.

Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.

Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.

You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-

The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”

“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort.

“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”

You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”

Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.”

“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas!

After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.

Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-”

You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth.

You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this.

Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”

You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss.

He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.

Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish.

Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.

“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”

“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”

“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.

“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”

You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”

Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.

When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife.

Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.

You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.

“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”

Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could.

Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.”

Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”

You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it.

“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“

You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”

Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”

“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs.

You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so.

With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out.

Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.

“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”

Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.

You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”

Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”

You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”

Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust.

His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"

"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.

“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.

All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”

You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“

You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.

Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin.

There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”

“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.”

“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”

“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”

You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.

You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.

You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-

Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.

You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.

The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes.

You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.

You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.

You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.

“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”

You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?

“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“

“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”

Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”

Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”

She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear.

You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.

You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.

Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.

You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.

“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.

“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.

You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”

“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”

You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”

“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”

“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”

“I’m in love with you.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld . @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad . @queenofthegardengnomes . @boomfrogg . @hoeinthehouse . @msaddictions . @sunnyhonie . @hizliyuruyen . @jyu037 . @jouoy . @drhsthl . @seungincore . @jellylver . @veedoesntknaur . @meloncremesoda . @k-poplv . @livieloo914 . @fekixfmp . @fawnpeaks . @minnielvr . @imastraykidsfan . @hanjisung2023 . @hoelynecujoh . @kyrviu . @sxgeofprohets . @everydreams-penumbra . @chaneomma

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lovieku · 3 months ago

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GOOD LUCK, BABE! #2 ⋆ 정국

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 9k +

☾ warnings: alcohol consumption. explicit language. underage drinking. this whole thing is fluff vibes imo. like jk is just a little loser who misses his best friend. gureum debut! i love this dog so much he deserves his own one shot.

☾ author’s note: hello !!! i hope this chapter isnt too slow for u guys.. i like this pace tho! we r starting to get to know our ggukkie better. but we’ll get to eunbi too! oh also, theres little hints that help understanding the timeline of the whole story so 👩🏻‍💻 thank u for ur time!!

ps : dal = moon in korean; boreumdal = full moon in korean. it’ll be useful as you read hehe.. ok bye!

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two ⋆ ribs

The first time Jeongguk got drunk, it was with his best friend. At the age of 15, the number of coming-of-age movies he had consumed with her by his side was more than he could count on both his hands and feet, never having enough of getting lost in a world that seemed so entrancing yet far. Not only because his age wasn’t exactly the one depicted in those films, but mainly because Busan didn’t offer such scenarios. Jeongguk was continuously inspired by those, so much so that he’s confident when admitting it was exactly that genre which got him to take directing and film production not only as a silly dream, but as an ambition. No matter how crazy it sounded to everybody’s ears, he wanted to follow that path, because only then he could translate his wild and eager imagination into somewhat of a concrete, tangible reality.

Having Eunbi by his side was only a bonus. At the end of every movie, after impatiently but silently waiting for the credits to roll (she knew Jeongguk took those very seriously, almost as a ritual), she would vomit every single thought she had harboured regarding what she had just watched and Jeongguk felt seen. His same hunger was reflected in his best friend’s eyes, and words, and passionate gestures when yearning for those experiences. The only difference was that, if Jeongguk was content with only jotting down their endless brainstorming after a long session of movie watching for future ideas that he hoped he could bring to the big screen, Eunbi was longing to bring those to life.

”I really wanna get drunk,” she whined in the older boy’s ears while munching on some remaining snacks, attentively observing Jeongguk’s skilled hand doodling what looked like two people watching the sunset on a beach. With time, he got used to staying focused on whatever task he was leading even with the girl going on about whatever passed her mind, but this time he released a chuckle and let his pencil roll down the couch, shifting his attention to his sulky friend.

“Why would you want that?” He said with a curiously amused expression, entertained by the pout on the girl’s face while she took his sketchbook and delicately traced the beer bottles he had scribbled earlier.

10 Things I Hate About You had been the current topic of discussion, being the last of three movies they had watched that afternoon and the one that Eunbi liked more. She couldn’t stop geeking about how cool Kat was and how she wanted to be her when she grew up. Jeongguk thought her little moment of admiration was funny, and let her go about it, “Everybody says it’s bad for your health and bla, bla, then why would they make it look so exciting?”

For the first time since their five years of friendship, Jeongguk thought of himself as the more rational one of the pair. Even if older (by one year), he had always been a bit childish around her and seemed to need his best friend to scold him with her witty, book-obsessed vocabulary. Thus, saying he was surprised by Eunbi’s claims would be an understatement. It was like the roles had switched when he said, “Well, it’s fiction. It’s supposed to be exciting.”

In response, he got the same glare he would reserve for her anytime she would tell him off for his immature behaviour, with an addition of an eye roll and an even sulkier expression, emphasised by her crossed arms. The boy giggled at her disappointment and snatched his sketchbook back from her hands, retrieving the pencil from where it had been buried under the cushions so he could resume his earlier activity.

However, the sudden silence was unsettling. It gave him a moment to realise he had never really been surrounded by quiet when hanging out with his neighbour. The Converse-lover girl would always fill any empty space with words, thoughts, songs, even random sounds made with her mouth, or hands. He was not sure if he should be thankful for such unusuality or if he should search for hints that could be hidden behind her odd quietude.

He went for the latter, and he was proved right when he lifted his head from his drawing and found his friend torturing her lower lip with her front teeth, staring into the void with narrowed thinking eyes. When she noticed his gaze on her, she exchanged eye contact and, unable to hide it longer, a mischievous smirk made its way to her mouth. Jeongguk shook his head, “You’re not seriously considering-“

”I’m just saying!” Her talkative self was back, sitting cross-legged on the couch and fully facing Jeongguk, trying to get him to direct his whole attention to her, “Dancing on a table seems fun…”

Jeongguk scoffed, amused by the way this one movie seemed to have had a huge impact on Eunbi’s running imagination, which he was very familiar with but, as he was having this conversation, he doubted if there was more he needed to discover, “Do you realise Kat was about to fall-“

”And! Got saved by hot Heath Ledger. Twice!” Jeongguk was used to being interrupted, especially when the conversation was about one of the girl’s favourite topics. He didn’t know Heath Ledger was on that list, though. He frowned, “You think he’s hot?”

Her response was as simple as a Duh!, making the boy feel stupid for questioning what seemed to be an ultimate truth. He rolled his eyes and went back to doodling meaningless details that would complete the image that had been clouding his mind, only for his shoulder to be shaken by a whiny Eunbi, “That was not the point. I’m telling you I wanna drink alcohol.”

Jeongguk snorted, taken aback by the unexpected outburst of confidence, then widened his already big eyes at her, signalling to quiet down, “My mom is literally in the next room.” That only got the daring girl to shrug her shoulders, eyebrows raised, and expecting an answer to her admission.

The older one sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and contemplating. His meditation was interrupted by his determined friend rocking his body back and forth by the sleeve of his t-shirt, in hopes of getting what she wanted. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but figured Jeongguk could find a solution for her. Said boy tried to get the constant pulling to stop, only when it wouldn’t he could only lightly push the younger one away, knowing it would cause a huge reaction. And not even three seconds after, she laid down and acted as if her arm was broken, and her whole body severely injured, faking cries and whines. Jeongguk laughed, “What do you want me to do? Where would I even get it?”

It’s like she was waiting for that exact question, because the moment it was asked her acting immediately came to an end, as she lifted her body up again and sat straight on her heels, “Your dad has a whole collection of random bottles. He won’t notice if one is missing.” The quick response sounded strangely rehearsed, and Jeongguk furrowed his brows.

A smile danced on his lips at seeing his best friend trying not to break too and instead maintain a serious composure, wanting to make her intentions clear and unmoved. Jeongguk was surprised at her sudden resolution, figuring it must not have been so sudden after all, ”How long were you keeping this inside?”

”Literally forever,” she eventually broke, releasing a long breath, her body bending down with it but then regaining its straight posture, resuming her Convincing-BFF-To-Get-Drunk plan, “Movie was the last straw. Please Ggukkie?” She mustered her best puppy eyes and Jeongguk narrowed his, unbelieving of all the tactics she was using to get to her goal.

”No.” He strangely managed to sound firm, despite Eunbi insisting and now deepening her pout, making it hard for the boy to deny her request, “Dad will kill me.”

”I’m sure he won’t notice,” the way she was talking made it sound like she knew exactly what needed to be done, as if she was explaining something as obvious as Heath Ledger being hot. The look in her best friend’s eyes, however, let her know he wasn’t fully on her side yet, so she came up with something unexpected even to herself, as proved by her dubious expression after uttering out, “I will also steal a few beers from mom.”

Jeongguk fully broke out laughing then, nose scrunching and eyes squeezing, hand over his belly while muttering something close to You’re insane, and that went on for a minute, the reaction carrying at seeing his neighbour being as serious as ever, not even hinting a smile (even if she was doing her best to suppress it).

When the chuckles eventually came to an end, the brown-haired boy shook his head and went back to his drawing, leaving the girl incredulous at being ignored like that by who she thought would always be her Number One Supporter. She gasped, mouth hanging. Jeongguk smirked amusedly, seeing her through his peripheral vision, “What?”

The younger one whined and fussed on the couch, impatient with Jeongguk being seemingly impossible to convince but stubborn with wanting to make him agree. When not even her begging worked, going ignored as everything else she was doing, she sat silently just following Jeongguk’s hand on the paper. The boy thought it was over, until Eunbi let her mind speak again, this time more spontaneously, “You know, this thing you’re drawing, it could be reality. Not just film reality, I’m talking about us two drunk on the Busan beach, enjoying everything it has to offer. Can you really resist it?”

Eyebrows wiggling and a mischievous smile on her face, Jeongguk knew he was being difficult just because, the idea of getting drunk with his best friend had sounded inviting right from the start. Little by little, he was breaking, still hesitating when he admitted, ”Busan beach doesn’t sound that exciting but… Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

At that, the girl’s eyes went sparkling, hopeful of finally winning her battle, ”That would be suuuper cool! C’mon, Ggukkie.”

Her hands were back on his shoulder, shaking him with less vigour this time but still making the boy giggle, “How would that even work-“

”We sneak out.” Once again, her rapid reply sounded so sure, it almost scared Jeongguk. He wanted to laugh again, but something in the girl’s expression made him hold back, slowly being persuaded by her convincing tactics, “I got everything planned. Let’s put the movie brainstorming aside and keep the get-drunk plan brainstorming going and I’ll tell you exactly how we’ll move through it.”

Jeongguk hesitated. The light in her eyes made him put the doubts to the side, ”Alright.”

That same night, they put the plan into action. It wasn’t too thought-out, but Eunbi had a way with words that made anything sound magical and captivating, just as those directors Jeongguk admired could depict their young age in a way too fascinating vision. They had decided to sneak out of their windows at 1 a.m., and before that, they would get their hands on what they had agreed and figured would get them drunk enough: whatever hard liquor attracted the boy more out of his dad’s collection, and two beer bottles from Eunbi’s fridge.

Both of them were clumsy with their actions. If they had to complete this initial part being together, the whole plan would have failed with how much one would have laughed at the other, and vice versa. Jeongguk made the bottle clink with another, while his best friend in the house next to his closed the fridge too hard, causing uncalled-for noise. The sounds were amplified by the quiet of the night, making the youngsters awkwardly stand still for a second, terror-stricken in hopes they wouldn’t get caught. What followed after was hastily placing the contents in their backpack and waiting some more by their window, ensuring no odd movement was heard from their parents’ room. When everything seemed under control, they nimbly climbed out, landing on their feet.

The first to appear outside was the younger one. With every fast and speedy beat of her heart, she felt it coming up her throat. All her senses were ten times stronger at that moment, and she could feel a jittery sensation travel through her whole body, running in her veins and seemingly unstoppable. She tried to, by harshly biting her lip and clasping a hand over her chest. Where the heck was Jeongguk? And why was she so cold? She wished telepathy existed, as she hoped with all her might that her friend had brought a jacket she could steal.

When a minute passed and there was no sight of the older boy, she felt utterly betrayed, and tried to come up with any excuse that could justify Jeongguk’s delay: there were none. If she could make noises she would whine, both the cold and the wait being unbearable.

Jeongguk appeared seconds later, looking like a deer caught in headlights as his feet landed on the ground with a stomping sound. Eunbi couldn’t help the snort escaping her mouth, quickly clasping a hand over it while the boy made his way to her with big eyes and his pointer finger laying over his lips, demanding absolute silence.

The two didn’t utter a single word until they were at a safe distance from their houses, and when they looked back and noticed how those were becoming smaller with each step they took, the smiles on their faces grew bigger. The girl in her Converses giggled and incredulously shook his friend’s arm, “What. The. Heck. We did it!”

Jeongguk let a nervous chuckle escape his lips, sharing that same excitement mixed with tension that he could feel oozing from his best friend, now hanging from his arm, “We did it. Now, where do we go from here?”

“Trust me, Gguk. I told you I know my way,” once again, the younger one managed to sound convincing enough, and Jeongguk let himself put his whole trust in her, too agitated to argue. However, Eunbi expertly noticed the unusual edginess in her friend’s nodding and lost gaze, so using the time it took to get to the beach through the route she knew best, she let out every single thought that passed her mind. Just as the dynamic between them was often like, but this time it served as a way to distract Jeongguk; and it did. The boy chuckled there and then at various comments, adding to them too. He laughed loudly when Eunbi admitted she brought some strawberries and water, just in case, and called her a dumbass. They then proceeded to have a meaningless argument about it, all while he took note of how the girl’s skin seemed to prickle with the soft wind, and laid his hoodie on her shoulders. They had a subtle way of caring about each other, which nonetheless never went unnoticed, but still not really mentioned.

1 a.m. was dark, darker than they’d ever witnessed, and if it wasn’t for the tall buildings behind them, the beach would have been completely surrounded by obscurity. The closer they got to the sea, the more the moon also helped reduce such blackness, with its light reflecting in the water. The pair sat down on the sand, picking the spot they had claimed as theirs during one of their many beach days on the hottest days of summer. There wasn’t much talking now, both of them eager to start the final and main part of the plan, but none of the two brave enough to break the seal.

Eunbi wrapped herself around Jeongguk’s hoodie, her knees to her chest and her chin to her knees, observing the boy sitting by her side with a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her nose scrunched tenderly when he reciprocated it, and her voice was suddenly small, “You want a strawberry?”

”You dragged me all the way over here to eat strawberries?” He chuckled at the girl’s out-of-character embarrassment and lightly shoved her shoulder, getting a lively giggle out of her. She shrugged, putting up her best innocent act, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeongguk didn’t say anything while he unzipped his backpack and took the main character of the night out, a bottle of Absolut Vodka, the one that had scared the boy less out of the whole collection, its liquid clear like water and seemingly free from danger. Who knows, maybe it also tastes like water.

He was proved wrong not much later, when he brought his mouth to the rim and gulped the first sip, its burning taste firing up his throat, then extending to his chest and finding home in his stomach. Jeongguk emitted a loud groan, eyes squeezing shut with the force of the foreign feeling, and distanced himself from the bottle to cough. The younger one had watched the whole scene with big eyes, unconsciously following every movement of his with her head, attentively studying his reaction and then laughing at his disgusted expression. She stole the bottle from his hands and repeated the same actions.

Unexpectedly, she accepted the sensation much better than the older one, only shaking her head fast in hopes the liquid would go down rapidly, and then taking another huge gulp right after. Jeongguk snatched the bottle from her hold to clasp it to his chest, his brows furrowed, “Woah, slow down there.”

”If I focus on how shit it tastes, I will never get drunk. Let me finish it,” her eagerness triggered Jeongguk’s competitive side, bringing him to swallow down a bigger amount than he had seen her sip, gulping loudly and then standing still, as if to prove a point. See? It doesn’t affect me either, that’s what his eyes were screaming. Of course, Eunbi didn’t back out, a silent race starting between the two the moment she claimed the bottle again and looked him right in the eyes while drinking. Jeongguk laughed too loudly, but he couldn’t control it, “That’s how it is?”

In between sneers and roasts, the competition went on until Eunbi announced her whole world was spinning, and the liquid covered a little less than half of the bottle. Jeongguk felt irrational contentment brimming his mind, making his body feel light yet still shaken by adrenaline. Unlike his friend, he could at least form coherent sentences, though. He had regulated the amount of alcohol he was ingesting, so that he could ensure one of them could still lucidly operate in case anything happened. He had also pulled the bottle away from Eunbi’s mouth multiple times whenever she would overdo the quantity she was drinking, but he figured it still affected her way more than it did him.

Indeed, a whole 10 minutes had passed of her munching on those strawberries she just had to take with her while walking in circles around Jeongguk’s sitting figure. Before going on that ritual-like path, she had also tried one of the two canned beers, and the littlest sip of it had made her declare it as the worst beverage on earth. Jeongguk didn’t mind it, surely liked it more than the clear vodka, but made sure to empty the opened can and hide the other in his backpack, in case his very tipsy friend wanted to try some more.

From his sitting position, he looked at her grinning when she would share bitten pieces of the red fruit with him, while still keeping up the constant walking and the random babbling. In the midst of it, she would also laugh to herself, and then resume her muttering, making the boy laugh as well with no exact knowledge of what she was saying. He just went along with it, didn’t get what was so funny but figured he was too tipsy to entertain meaningful conversation.

As he kept observing her, he saw her look up at the sky, the movement too fast for her spinny head, “Ouch.” She squeezed her eyes shut and quickly reopened them, only to be welcomed by black patches appearing and disappearing from her vision. Then, the starry sky is what she saw; the moon was next. She laughed at that too, spinning around a few times with her arms wide open.

Jeongguk does find a reason to laugh along with her now, his friend acting too silly his heart feels content just watching her, ”You look so dumb. What are you even doing?”

Giggles are her first response, followed by her suddenly sitting down on the sand, on the spot next to him. Jeongguk noticed some of the strawberry juice had dripped down her chin, so he cleaned it carefully with his thumb until there was none. She hiccuped, “Gguk, I think- I think I love the moon.” The sudden admission was out of context, but he accepted it. A little over an hour had gone by at that point, but once again she assumed the position she was in when they first arrived, knees to her chest and chin to her knees, with that same soft smile directed at him, only with sleepier eyes.

With the hand that was already close to her face, the older one moved some of the locks that were blocking her vision, then gently placed them behind her ear. He melted at the pleased expression on her face, her eyes gently closing. Jeongguk had always felt a sense of protection in her regards, just like a brother would to her sister. He wasn’t much older than her, but he still felt like he needed to be someone Eunbi could lean on and look up to. He followed along, nodding, “Yeah? You do look like the moon.” The tender moment seemed to have been interrupted by his comment. Her soft smile was replaced by a frown. Huh? Did he say something wrong?

With Jeongguk seated next to her, she turned to fully face him (the fast movement probably causing her head to hurt again) and furrowed her brows, “You do realise that’s not a compliment,” the same confused expression was now mirrored on her friend’s face, so she kept explaining, “You’re saying my face is round and puffy.”

The boy sitting cross-legged also fussed so he could be directly in front of her, facing the tipsy girl when he smirked, “Your face is round and puffy, Bee.” The grin turned into a full laugh when she hit his shoulder with a stronger force than usual, making him stumble. At that, she shoved him again, intent on making him fall on his back.

”What the hell? No, it’s not.” When she realised how weak alcohol was making her, she backed down from her mission and instead sat on her heels and crossed her arms, annoyed by the stupid smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes, “If anything, you look like a coconut. Fuck you.”

The boy feigned his shock, the act quickly being revealed by his uncontrollable giggles. The alcohol was getting her way sassier, and she was already too mouthy for his liking. Still, he was never intimidated by that, instead living off these moments just to make fun of her and wind her up further, “Should I call you Dal? My little Boreumdal?” His sickeningly sweet mocking voice was aggravated by his tickling under her armpit. She swatted him, “You’re being disgusting. I’ll throw up everything I drank on you.��

”I dare you Dal,” he wiggled his eyebrows and shortly after he figured that was the last teasing comment he could allow himself to throw at her before being pushed fully to the ground this time and receiving harmless punches on his stomach, which made him burst into lively laughter. The sand was getting in his hair and all over his clothes, but he didn’t care, his only goal being winning the nth fight between them, “Ouch, Dal stop-“

“Don’t call me that!” She was fully screaming at him now, her vodka breath fanning over his face while she kept tossing him on the sand, giggling along, “Stupid coconut.” Between laughs and jabs she didn’t realise how close they got, Jeongguk also working his way to free himself from his spot on the ground, resulting in her determined attitude trying to block him by sitting on his stomach and pushing his shoulders down.

However, when she felt his hands on her wrists, the contact triggered sudden awareness in her mind, registering the compromising position they were in, her whole face changing colour. With her movements being haltered, Jeongguk also seemed to notice the quick change in her expression. After a moment of silence, of her staring big-eyed in his starry eyes, a tipsy 15 year old Jeongguk could only come up with, “This is the first time I’m seeing a red moon.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It’s the echo of her voice, yelling Shut up! in his face that startles him awake. When he takes in his surroundings, he relaxes in the bed again. Jeongguk was right when he predicted how hard the simple act of falling asleep would have been, following being so close to the cause of his nightmares after years. He checks the time displayed on his phone, 6:08 a.m. His alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour. Sighing, he’s aware trying to get some more sleep after it had failed to find him would have been useless, reason why he goes on a staring contest with the ceiling.

It becomes a canva for his running mind, which projects the last image that he saw behind his closed eyelids: Eunbi’s face being centimetres to his, her head crowned by a shining white full moon. He’s unconscious of the smile creeping up on his mouth, but when he feels its sides twitch it turns into a deep frown. He hates his own brain for doing this to him, but is also aware the girl coming back so strong and unexpected in his life played a huge role.

It’s not like he was ever confident with the possibility of fully forgetting about her. How does one forget about the moon? But he could still say he had done a great job at keeping her locked in one dark room in the back of his mind; until not more than three months ago, when she showed up beside Dahye, her big smile greeting the rest of the group, but breaking in pieces when she spotted him. Had it been such a disgrace for her?

Jeongguk can’t blame her if she felt like that, because after an initial, very brief moment of surprise, excitement and sparks, he was surrounded by doom. It had been gruelling battling against the kid inside him, probably confused as to why his first instinct wasn’t to hug his Dal. It’s as if that version of him got stuck right in the place he was left, and when he saw her again he wished to pick up from where they had stopped, never having gotten closure. Last night would be an example: the urge to keep an eye out for her, care for her safety. It’s like telling a child Santa Claus isn’t real, and watching his world break. But Jeongguk needed the kid in him to be faced with the truth badly, before a light gets switched on in that dark room of his brain he keeps her in, and next thing he knows she finds the key to open it and escape.

That truth being the fact that everything changes, and people do too. Although, compared to the first time he saw her drunk, he wouldn’t say there were any changes: she would still mutter incoherent nonsense under her breath, and laugh for no apparent reason. And it had the same effect on him, pure amusement and adoration. But this time, he couldn’t let himself indulge in it.

Jeongguk can’t stand his brain being manipulated so easily by his heart, and rather having to sit helpless while witnessing such conflict, he figures he can start his day ahead and get up from his bed. What awaits him is a train journey to Busan in exactly two hours. With summer break starting, he had concluded he could use the most of it to be with his parents, starting by the weekend ahead. He’s fairly excited to be in his hometown again after months, and with the way his mind has been taking him back in time through the memories, he finds it funny how he used to depreciate Busan and fantasise about Seoul, when right now he would do anything to not be surrounded by the capital’s chaos. You truly never know what you have until it’s gone.

Jimin, being also from Busan, had offered to drive him there and go with him, but Jeongguk refused. He’s aware his best friend was just being nice, a leading characteristic of his nature, since he also knows Jimin doesn’t really enjoy being back in his city, and tries to stay away from it as much as he possibly can. The blonde had opened up once to his flatmate, admitting how home wasn’t really that for him. Seoul was his one and only occasion to escape it; he loved it here, and had finally built what felt closest to a home. The fact that Jeongguk is part of it makes his heart swell with joy.

He’s as quiet as ever while he packs the last things in his backpack and exits the flat, making sure the door isn’t shut too loud so as not to wake Jimin, who’s probably going to suffer from the worst hangover as soon as he opens his eyes. Still, the brown haired boy now wearing a baseball hat over his head shoots his friend a text to let him know he’s left the house. A cheeky Don't miss me too much :p is sent after that.

Considering he still has a significant amount of time left before the train leaves (more than he had deduced yesterday, when he had set his alarm at 5 a.m. for 7 a.m. and had gotten even less sleep than that) he picks walking to the station over taking the bus, in fear if he sits anywhere he will fall into deep slumber due to his single hour of sleep and fuck up his whole getaway plan. The walk contributes to waking his senses and shaking off the weariness, his mind finding it especially hard after the previous hours spent in the small suffocating club, swimming in the smell of alcohol and weed, and being surrounded by blasting music.

When he gets to his destination, there’s still 30 minutes left before the train arrives. He sighs while he sits on a bench by the platform, and waits. Two cigarettes later, he figures there’s nothing else he can do but put his earphones to use and play the first album in his recently played. When not even Twenty One Pilots’ Vessel can avert his eyes from batting until they’re slowly closing, Jeongguk forces himself into a staring contest with the nothingness, in hopes the illusion of having to win a fight keeps him awake. Until even then his vision starts to unfocus, and in his zoned out state he feels like passing out on that same bench.

His phone is his last resort, mindless scrolling on social media apparently the only activity capable of avoiding his mind from completely shutting down. When he gets to Instagram, rather than checking the new posts on his feed, he clicks on Dahye’s story popping up as the first one of the list. Stories are a fairly new feature to the app, but he soon came to learn how much his friend loved it, documenting every piece of her life through them. What he didn’t expect, and surely didn’t need, was her recent updates to be a rundown of Eunbi’s recovery from her drunken state last night: firstly, a close up of her baby face, with cheeks covered by smudged mascara and what looked like tears, and a pout so pronounced with furrowed eyebrows; soon after, a sneaky shot of the girl completely bent over the toilet, almost hugging it, Dahye captioning it with her new BFF!; then, an hour later, Eunbi peacefully sleeping surrounded by all sorts of pillows and plushies. Dahye ended the small series with a short apology to her roommate, adding i love u @song_eunbee hehe.

When he realises the unconscious, dumb, stupid, smile on his face, he jerks his head up and shuts his phone, violently shoving it in his sweatpants pocket. Blinking a few times, he also notices how he quite literally almost missed the train, only then registering it had stopped in front of him and was ready to depart again. Jeongguk quickly gathers his stuff and makes his way onto the train, searching for any seat that is close to a window overlooking the outside. He thinks if he can focus on the view for the rest of the ride, he’d be able to shut off the urge to go on a three hour Instagram spiral. He knows he’s so wrong when not even two minutes in, he physically can’t stop his hands from retrieving his phone and looking up song_eunbee on the app’s search bar.

He’s relieved when he clicks on the first account that pops up and finds out it’s not private. In her profile picture her face is half covered by her hand, but the dimple adorning her cheeks doesn’t hide the fact that she’s smiling. He’s welcomed by quite a few posts, varying from landscapes, friends, family, baby photos, random kittens on the streets, club nights, and some selfies. He learns she’s pretty big on Ariana Grande and that she still loves the moon, as confirmed by the crescent moon emoji being the only thing in her bio. He can’t help but foolishly wonder if looking at it at night makes her even subconsciously think of him, and the fact that he kept calling her that nickname even after her protests. A handful of the pictures on her feed portray the moon too, and one of them is captioned with Kat Stratford’s unmistakeable monologue: but mostly i hate the way i don’t hate you; not even close; not even a little bit; not even at all.

Jeongguk was right when he predicted he would be a victim of an Instagram spiral, because for the next hour he studies her posts more attentively, the people she tagged, the people in her comments, the places she visited, the quotes in her captions. He is so consumed by curiosity, and maybe something more (awfully close to envy, anger and misery) that he doesn’t even notice the sleepiness completely dissipating from his body, his mind now running to connect every single pin on the imaginary board his own brain had offered for him to better analyse her account.

Until, after being extremely careful for the entire endless minutes spent on her profile, he accidentally clicks on her story and before he can react, he’s left to stare at the picture until the 15 seconds finish. He blinks. Keeps his eyes shut for a few seconds. Reopens them. Clicks on the story again. Only one side of her face is showing, and beside it it’s her middle finger, on top of it FUCK YOU @dahye.lee96 !!!!!

He shuts off his phone and puts it on his lap, squeezing it in his hand from time to time. He takes deep breaths every one minute. Considers deleting his account, or his whole existence. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now, his eyes closing but not with the intent to sleep. He’s trying to block his flow of thoughts, unsuccessfully.

The incident haunts him for the rest of the trip, causing him to check his phone constantly and contemplating flushing it down the train’s toilet. Only when he sets foot in Busan’s station he’s able to distract himself from it. He sports a boyish smile when he sees his parents’ car parked outside, and bashfully lets himself be coddled by his mom’s praises and his dad’s content grin before driving away. He’s almost 21, most people his age feel too grown for this type of affection, but he will never deny it. That’s enough for him to stop worrying about his earlier slip. It’s still in the back of his mind, though.

Opening the door to his childhood home, he’s greeted by a fawning Gureum, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moves with it. The white Maltese has been the family dog for almost six years now, and giving him a new life after rescuing him from a shelter had cured Jeongguk’s loneliness and heartbreak; he hopes it did the same to the dog. He blocks out all kinds of noises and questions from his mom while he spends the first ten minutes in his house entertaining Gureum’s zoomies, using a sickeningly sweet tone that is only reserved for the small pet. To the point Gureum almost looks like he’s had enough of being called a good boy, feels like he can confidently reply to who’s the best boy ever? with the correct answer. Me! He just barks.

After settling his stuff and catching up with his parents on university and life in Seoul (he doesn’t mention that Eunbi is a new entry in his friend group, yet) he spends the whole morning in between naps, sleepiness eventually catching onto him. He dozes off after lunch, his tummy full and content with his mom’s cooking, which he had dearly missed, and ends up sleeping for more than intended. Next thing he knows, it’s 5 p.m. and it takes him some time to readjust to the reality surrounding him. He drags his feet to the kitchen to retrieve a snack, only to sit again, this time on the couch, Gureum finding home on his lap. The sleepyhead is close to spacing out again while munching on some Peperos, until his dad asks for help, his voice coming from upstairs.

Jeongguk finds out his most recent obsession has been decluttering, and that’s what he was called over for. His dad had collected old stuff that belonged to Jeongguk in two boxes with the intention of getting rid of it, but he still wanted to make sure there was nothing his son still needed, or valued. The boy is glad for such consideration the moment he spots his old Samsung camcorder in between worn plushies and damaged toy cars. He can’t imagine what would have happened if he wasn’t there; he figures the camera would have probably got thrown away, with his dad’s eagerness. He gets sensitive over it, entertaining a small argument with his father about it and forgetting the task he was supposed to complete, instead returning to his room to check on the camera’s contents.

Leaving the door ajar, he can still hear his dad’s faint voice calling for him and asking for truce, and even if Jeongguk’s little fit of anger is already over, he is too enthralled by the device to acknowledge any other sound around him. It had been a while since he last picked it up, not only because ever since he started university the boy had managed to afford better equipment for his short films and casual moments of inspiration, but also because what is stored in there could potentially break the thin line of sanity he has been walking on for the past weeks.

The first videos he’s met with make him chuckle, his big 10 years old eyes reflecting in his equally wide 20 years old ones, still sharing that same love for filming and blabbering on about his passions and ideas. With time, the contents captured by the camcorder changed, from video diaries of family trips and shared meals, to dramatic storytellings starring any toy that could be put to use. He can see the exact moment he began developing a bigger interest for directing, and his various attempts at finding new original shots and angles put a sweet smile on his lips.

Until, one particular clip marked an important switch, and the introduction of who soon after became the main subject for the rest of the images filmed on the device. From the moment she met him, Eunbi had been a constant presence anytime he would hit record on the camera. Their very first encounter is documented by it, when Jeongguk had forgotten to stop the recording, too startled by the sudden changes occuring right in front of his eyes; nevertheless, it resulted in a pure, authentic fragment that he’d never been able to replicate. There is no way to, the earliest smile she directed at him was captured by those lenses, and that started everything which followed.

He can spot the point in which they eventually got tired of making up stories to play out through their toys, even with the addition of Eunbi’s impressive Barbie collection. They also tried replacing the dolls with their own selves, but changing outfits and makeup for every single clip was only fun for a short while. Four episodes later, the both of them left the telenovela they had started taping unattended, and looked for a new reality to portray, even if it was always only for their own eyes and enjoyment.

Jeongguk was searching for something more simple than cliffhangers and plots. He now remembers how even his little self would always go back to that initial scene that saw them together for the first time, Eunbi’s small voice greeting the camera with the sun beginning to set behind her. He wanted his shots to be characterised by that same unadulterated, filtered feeling.

That is most probably what led him to start a documentary about their friendship, just what he had said behind the lenses while his best friend tilted her head to the side, sporting a confused look on her features, unaware of Jeongguk zooming in and out on her face (which probably got Eunbi to yell at the top of her lungs later on), “Was I unaware of you being a National Geographic reporter?”

“Are you calling yourself a beast?” Jeongguk could be heard chuckling in the microphone at Eunbi’s incredulous reaction. That was how it would always go between them, a constant back and forth to battle on who had the last word in. The girl just scoffed, clearly scrambling to find a quick reply, but only managing to roll her eyes with crossed arms and muttering something close to says you. It seemed the older one was ahead, for now.

Jeongguk grins at everything that follows next, and he tells himself it’s because he’s amused by his younger self’s manners, but it’s not like those were the main subject of his shots. He quickly comes to terms with the fact that if he wants to keep scrolling through the videos, he’d have to be constantly faced with Eunbi; there is really no way of escaping it. Jeongguk had underestimated the amount of clips portraying her, to the point the idea of a documentary seemed more like an excuse to film his friend. Make her his first muse. It was Eunbi playing, doing her hair, secretly trying on her mom’s clothes, blowing candles on her birthday cakes, revising for tests, baking Christmas cookies, coming up with friendship jingles; and everytime, she seemed so natural, as if being in front of a camera was all she was ever created for. She insisted she always wanted to be a teacher, though. He wonders if that changed.

He doesn’t know how much time he spends crouching on his desk with the recorder in his hands, but he knows it has to be hours when he gets to a close up of Eunbi’s face, her sleepy eyes and sheepish smile immediately taking him back to the night that infested his dreams hours earlier in his bed, his assumption being confirmed when he can see the sand extending behind her figure. At that point, he figures the relatively small amount of alcohol they had drank had already dissipated from their bodies, only leaving them feeling hazy, but in a good way. The wind makes it hard to decipher their slurry dialogue, and he misses the reason why Eunbi suddenly stole the camera and pointed the lenses at him. It makes him realise how little he showed himself in front of those. His timid smile probably gives out why: contrary to his friend, he wasn’t a natural. Still isn’t. He works better behind them.

He rewinds the clip a few times, curious as to what they were talking about. He can faintly hear Eunbi mention how that scenario looked so much like the drawing Jeongguk was working on that same afternoon. He doesn’t remember what it was, wishes he still had it. Then, the girl balanced the camcorder on the half empty bottle of vodka and stood, struggling to bring the older boy up with her. Now next to each other, Eunbi looked like she was instructing Jeongguk how to pose, and he figures she was trying to recreate that same doodle. She laughed hard when the boy shoved her, visibly annoyed with being moved around, more so with the girl seemingly repeating something again and again in his face. Her voice got louder, but the recording couldn’t quite catch it. From her lip movement, it looked like she was saying Put this in your movie! Put this in your movie! Jeongguk giggles. Was he already working on something? He wishes he could return to that moment to know, and maybe stay there for some more just because.

The boy is startled by sudden soft knocks on his door, jerking his head up and placing the camera on the desk, his hands sweaty from holding it for such an endless amount of time. He hums, signalling to come in, and he smiles when it’s his dad timidly peeking out and lifting his brows expectantly. Jeongguk giggles, “Dad, I forgive you.”

The older man sighs with way too much energy, exaggerating his relief and then coming to his son’s side. He smiles, ruffling his hair, “Are you hiding a girlfriend from us? This thing keeps going off,” handing him his phone, he cackles when he sees Jeongguk’s panicked expression. He must have left it on the couch earlier. And what does his dad mean with “girlfriend”? Phone going off? Does this have to do with him viewing Eunbi’s story? Is she publicly shaming h-

“Anyways. Dinner is almost ready, Gguk.” His dad pats the still alarmed boy’s shoulder and exits the room. As soon as Jeongguk hears the door close, he dashes himself on the phone and unlocks it. It keeps pinging with texts from his friends’ group chat, but there’s no new notification from Instagram. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but his relief is short lived when he comes up with another thought: was he that irrelevant to Eunbi? She didn’t even think of requesting his account? He frowns.

His initial idea was to quickly scroll over the messages as to join his family downstairs, positive it was probably just going to be either Seokjin sharing awful unfunny memes or Hoseok updating the group on the next possible catastrophe looming over human beings. He furrows his brows when, instead, he’s met with the whole group chat coming at Jimin, for no apparent reason, after his own name was mentioned.

Jiminssi, 7:48 p.m.

heeeyyy so…. ggukkie’s bday is very soon guys

Dahye, 7:50 p.m.

jimin.

Yoongi hyung, 7:50 p.m.

Park Jimin.

It’s in two weeks

Jiminssi, 7:51 p.m.

what

im just saying

its gonna be exciting!

Dahye, 7:51 p.m.

shut your mouth rn.

Joon hyung, 7:52 p.m.

Bro I thought I could trust u w this

Jeongguk is even more confused when, as he goes on reading, his friends keep brutally bullying Jimin, going as far as threatening to ban him from the next club nights out that he himself had planned. He chuckles at his friend’s misery, but soon remembers he is somewhat involved in it. He pouts, angrily typing.

Jeongguk, 7:58 p.m.

What is this about

Hobi hyung, 7:59 p.m.

baby it’s nothing

Jeongguk, 7:59 p.m.

???

Its not nothing

I wanna know

Like the baby he truly is, he keeps spamming the chat with messages to make himself noticed, until he sees Jimin’s texting bubble going on and off.

Jeongguk, 8:01 p.m.

My dear jimin what is it

I know you wanna tell me 🌀🌀🌀

Jiminssi, 8:02 p.m.

WE R GOING CAMPING FOR UR BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

The next thing displayed on his phone is an incoming group videocall from Namjoon, but Jeongguk remains still staring at himself on the screen for more seconds than necessary, registering the sequence of events that had just occurred. Camping? His birthday?

He slides to answer the call, and he giggles at the imminent chaos he’s welcomed with, all his friends throwing shade at Jimin while he just laughs along with his roommate. As all the members keep joining, he still doesn’t notice a certain someone missing.

”Was this supposed to be a surprise?” Jeongguk finds it hard to stop his laughter, both because of Jimin’s incapability at keeping secrets, but also — and mainly — because of the excitement he feels at the news just revealed to him.

”Well, duh. Jimin just had to ruin it,” It’s Dahye who replies, and Jeongguk can see the indignation on her features even in the little pixelated box she’s now displayed in. She then proceeds to entertain an argument about it with the boy she mentioned, and as everyone just listens and tries to excuse Jimin’s reasoning, Jeongguk searches for Taehyung on the screen. When he finds his eyes, he’s already wiggling his brows and the younger boy silently chuckles, mirroring his actions. It’s been a couple months since the two of them started suspecting something going on between Jimin and Dahye, even with the former always denying it. What is undeniable is the tension between them, though. It is showing right at that moment.

Jeongguk decided to intervene, having to raise the volume of his voice to be heard over the soon to be (in his and Taehyung’s opinion) lovebirds, “Guys, guys. I’m not mad. This is amazing. Thank you, really. Are we the only ones going?”

He questions just because in the last period they were often times joined by Seokjin’s girlfriend, as well as a couple of Dahye’s friends, and he genuinely enjoys their company, would be totally okay with them being present to celebrate his birthday. Seokjin himself speaks, “Sora is coming, and I think Iseul and Aera are also gonna be there. Oh, and of course-“

”Guys!” His phone tings, signalling a new person joining the videocall. It’s Eunbi. Oh. He almost didn’t consider the fact that she is most probably going to be invited too. Well, obviously. From what her camera is showing it looks like she’s outside, more specifically waiting at a bus stop, headphones on, “Sorry, I just saw the texts. Jimin, why the fuck would you do that?”

As the topic of the conversation moves once again on Jimin being awful at secrets, Jeongguk dissociates for a minute, no longer giggling along. He realises this would be the first birthday of his he shares with her by his side after years. He’s not sure how he feels about it. Can only sense a nervous sensation travelling his body, and making him feel uneasy. His furrowed brows and sudden silence don’t go unnoticed by Jimin, while on the other side Jeongguk surely doesn’t seem aware of his internal battle showing on the outside. He can’t let one person ruin his own birthday. He just has to ignore her. How hard can that be?

When he returns to the reality surrounding him again, he absent-mindedly listens to the others talk and can only distractedly pick up that the attention has been shifted to a complely different matter, Eunbi seemingly finding it funny assuming from her loud pearly smile. He frowns, his confidence wavering. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy to ignore her. Still, not wanting to dwell too much on it at that moment, leaving it for his future self to worry about, he leaves the call not before thanking his friends again. He misses Eunbi’s fond smile as the others shower their baby with praises, dismissing his gratitude with this is the least we could do for you, Ggukkie boy.

When he joins his mom and dad downstairs, it’s oddly quiet as they eat. Gureum places himself under the table and sighs, laying his head on Jeongguk’s feet. The boy can perceive the eerie atmosphere, so he asks about Gureum’s health and shows genuine interest when his dad updates him on the dog’s improvements. His mom, however, defines herself as an expert when it comes to her only son. She can spot even the tiniest change in his demeanour. Still, she knows to be delicate when asking about it, “Is everything okay, honey?”

Jeongguk stills with the fork in his mouth, looks at his mom with wide telling eyes, then nods. He hesitates, gulping down the previous bite, “Uh, my friends and I are going camping for my birthday.”

His mother smiles a big one, “That’s nice!” She seems aware something is being left out, so she inquires further, “But…?”

The questioned boy plays with his food while still munching on a big bite of it, “I guess I kinda forgot to mention it,” he starts, trying to mask his embarrassment by talking with his mouth still full. When his mom glares at him, he forces it down, “But, huh… Eunbi is in Seoul. And she’s Dahye’s roommate, so she’s coming too.”

It’s his mom’s turn to be silent. She looks like she’s taken aback, her mind working slower than usual to register a name she hasn’t heard in a long while, “Eunbi as in Song Eunbi? Our neighbour?”

Jeongguk unconsciously furrows his brows. The girl hasn’t been their neighbour for years, and never will be again. He doesn’t know why such a simple definition of her makes him feel edgy, “Yeah, our old neighbour.”

”Right… Well, that’s good, no?” Mrs. Jeon tries to lift up the atmosphere, even while knowing the mentioned girl could still be a touchy subject for the boy. When everything happened, a piece of him had been taken away with Eunbi’s sudden departure. There was seemingly no way to mend his heart, and as time went by Jeongguk closed up more and more every time his old friend was brought up, to the point she was never mentioned again, as if she had never existed. That illusion seemed to help the boy move on. His mom is not sure how her son feels about it now, but she unknowingly figures the scar has to have healed after all those years, and maybe seeing Eunbi again even brought her son to the closure he needed. When Jeongguk just nods, she hopes that is the case. His mom smiles, ”Invite her over sometimes?”

“… Yeah, mom. Huh, I will.”

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x original character #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts x reader #bts imagines #glb

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staraxiaa · 4 months ago

Text

sunflowers, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself

unwritten scenes, headcanons

you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee

character notes, thoughts

your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.

#[❀] — afterwords

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just-zy · 5 months ago

Text

Stay a little longer

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: Two broken hearts in one night.

A/N: I felt sad so I made this.. pretty short.

Warnings!: Might be sad.

Masterlist

Jenna couldn't function well, her leaving you because of her work, her casting Wednesday, her being away from you for 8 whole months, no kisses, no cuddles, no playful banters, nothing.

She knew you wouldn't have given up on her, even if it meant that you'd be away from eachother, but would she have done the same? Would it still be consistent? Would your relationship stay the same? She didn't know.

There were keys jiggling just behind the door, she didn't know how she'd confront you about everything. About.. Why she wanted this relationship.. Over.

"Hey baby, what do you want for dinner?" Your enthusiasm radiated throughout the apartment, this made Jenna's decision ten times harder for her. She didn't want this to end, never in her life did she think herself in such a position. She didn't dare look you in the eyes, she felt too vulnerable to utter a word out.

"What's wrong, baby?" You ask as you held both her hands to yours, providing comfort just when she needs you. Every. Time.

Did she really need to end things with you? But, did she want to risk 8 months of no contact in any physical way? Or was it more?

"Jenna–"

"I– ..I want to break up, Y/N."

Was it for the best? Y/N felt betrayed, so heartbroken from the words that just got out of Jenna's pretty lips. She had every right to feel such turmoil. Only then she had to endure the excruciating clench that her heart began to feel. It was getting harder for her to breathe. Harder for her to ignore the ringing in her ears.

"W– What? Is 2 years of being in a relationship together not enough? Give me a valid reason why!"

The sob Jenna let out was unapologetic, Y/N thought. That was unless she had a good ass reason, why. She knew Jenna had just received an email about her casting Wednesday, was that it?

"Because I don't think this will work anymore– me out in romania while you're here. Away from me." Jenna fought against getting another broken sob out of her throat. You stood up from your stance and looked down at Jenna's sitting figure. She still refrained from looking at you, her eyes glued shut.

"That's irrational! We need each other! I need you!–"

"I don't need you, anymore! I'm leaving next week, get your shit out of here before I leave. Alright?" She dictated before beginning to walk inside what was once called 'their' shared room. Jenna couldn't help but slowly lean her back from the locked door. Hearing your choked cry and trembling voice, she wasn't able to hold back the overwhelming pain, either.

"Stay a little longer, please."

That night, two broken hearts needed mending.

But they could no longer reach out to one another to heal each other, can they?

A/N: I hope this got to u guys pretty good, like you actually feel the quench in your chest.. 🙁 sorry if there are any mistakes, js too tired to proof read allat.

#jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #masterlist #jenna ortega imagine

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dumplingsfordays · 1 year ago

Note

Reading 30 Strales and omg Blade smelling like citrus sounds amazing. I've been playing for about 3 weeks and after fulling catching up on the trailblazer quests I was like dang blade kills people a lot right, he probably smells like blood 24/7 that's so gross. All this to say... reject logic, I agree that blade smells like citrus. Do you have thoughts on what any of the others would smell like?

what the hsr men smell like

ft. blade, gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, luocha, and welt

cw!: mentions of blood, no pronouns for reader mentioned, implied relationship, cuddling, swearing, super fluffy :)

note - thank you so much for reaching out to me omg 🥺 i reject logic too so that's how the whole citrus thing came to be ajsjdk. also i know absolutely nothing about colognes/fragrances so i'm sorry if i mess some of these up ;-; hope you're having a great day/night though pookie <3

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

blade

~ as mentioned above, def smells like citrus and bergamot.

~ sometimes you can catch a little metallic-y whiff of (cough cough) def not blood (cough cough), but it never lasts for long - when he hugs you, the smell of oranges invades your senses like a light summer breeze~

~ and don't get me started on how obsessed he is w this scent. if he stays somewhere for even 1-2 days, you know he's bringing along his 3 freakin citrus-scented candles!!

~ please run your fingers thru his hair when you're hanging out or cuddling. please. he will melt from headpats and your fingers will smell like his shampoo for the rest of the day, and since you love the scent of gentle lime, why not?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

gepard

~ omg this man!! he's totally giving cashmere + hot cocoa for some reason??? he doesn't really use cologne/fragrances and prefers his natural scent, but does use cashmere and vanilla body wash + shampoo.

~ like sure, after a busy day at work or training he'll kinda smell like sweat but will immediately take a shower when he gets home. he hates being sweaty and thinks it's icky if he does for too long-

~ and when you snuggle up to him for cuddle time on a day off, you just wanna stay there forever bc his scent envelops you like a blanket on freezing winter nights <3

~ overall very comforting and warm, just like Gepard himself!! (cries in human heater vibes)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

jing yuan

~ musk + cinnamon + a little bit of spice, and def uses cologne.

~ actually wants to smell nice and puts in the effort!! changes his sheets, washes his clothes, showers every day (but washes his hair every 3 days or so bc haircare)

~ speaking of haircare, this man's big on it. most of his haircare products smell like the aforementioned musk and cinnamon, but he uses this one cream that smells like cloves and you freakin adore it. sometimes you borrow it so that whenever you're going out and he's busy with his big boy general duties, it feels like he's with u <3

~ and ughhhh his bedroom smells like him so whenever you guys have le cuddle time you fall asleep almost immediately. ofc he eventually does too (bc he loves how u smell too pookie, don't tell him i said that though he would kill me aksjskd) and you're so warm and soft and how could he not fall asleep??

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

dan heng

~ very ocean-y (salty?), small hints of eucalyptus and cypress as well. when he uses cologne he uses very, very little, but he actually has 2 separate colognes, one for the ocean-y cypress, and the other for the eucalyptus

~ i feel like this is kinda a bold statement but he uses bath bombs. like he gets a bath bomb that smells like mint, gets in the bathtub w it, and glides his thumbs over its surface bc he likes the texture-

~ he might not be the cleanest man in the universe, but he sure does smell like it!! something about eucalyptus and cypress and mint and a hint of ocean breeze is chillingly refreshing and tbh you kinda dig it :D

~ mornings w dan heng. omfg they are ethereal bc he literally smells angelic??? like a gentle freshness yk and the pillows smell like him too so lazy mornings are def a thing that you guys love sharing <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

luocha

~ oooo he's kinda a wild card imo, but personally, i think that he smells like jasmine + honey (not just bc of his idle + technique!! pinky promise)

~ he lowkey smells a little like freshly-cut grass, very light n refreshing. however, jasmine takes center stage, and if you really bury your face in his long-ass hair, you can catch a whiff of chamomile :))

~ super big on herbal teas and honey as well - i hc that he brings a water bottle w him that's just green tea n honey so when you're close to his face (cuddling, hugging, etc) the honey adds this sweetness that blends super well w the aforementioned chamomile + jasmine <3

~ like jing yuan, super involved in haircare!! he does use less products, but you still freakin adore this chamomile shampoo that he uses. avid believer in aromatherapy, prob uses essential oils (not for curing cancer ofc)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

welt

~ coffee and amberwood!! both are deep and rich scents and he probably uses cologne in very small amounts aksjdks

~ coffee addict and the scent faintly lingers, so the amberwood is really more prominent, but overall i promise he doesn't smell like dust or smth, he's not that old he takes good care of himself :))

~ burns incense in his room bc it helps him relax and concentrate on his drawings, so he does have a little resin smell to him, but you don't mind bc it's actually quite comforting. he once almost caused a fire bc he dropped a lit match onto the carpet but we don't talk about that-

~ loves to hug you so whenever he does, you always feel so cozy and loved and aaaaa ya'll are so cute i can't <3 and since he's pretty tall he sometimes rests his head on top of yours and hugs you from behind like that and you melt immediately bc it's like a blanket!! but smells super nice!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #fluff #gepard fluff #blade fluff #jing yuan fluff #dan heng fluff #luocha fluff #welt fluff #blade x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #luocha x reader #welt x reader #tysm for the idea though!!! i actually love it sm-

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bahrtofane · 5 months ago

Text

Promises under the stars - Jude ending

Part 1

Part 1 - Jude pov

Part 2

Long awaited happy ending I TOLD U I WOULD DO IT SEE. pretty plz read part 2 before this i’m begging plz plzlplzpzlzpzlzpzl

—

Word count - 2.2k+

Watch it - MORE DIVORCE WOWOW. Carlos is so mean in this one sorreh.

Guys this feels like the end of an era like I’m so sad to see it end this was a JOURNEY

——-

Things change. As most things do, life moves on.

Jude remains in the back of your mind. After years of working away from the laughs that taunt you in the wind.

It comes back to him.

Your husband takes a back seat and Jude once again becomes the man who’s at the forefront of your mind.

While you’re pregnant with Carlos’s baby you thumb through pictures of Jude. Funny isn’t it. So funny you want to rip your own hair out.

You don’t know if it’s your own behavior that sparks a change but there’s a shift.

After the second altercation with Jude, things change. Carlos does less talking and more observing. He asks you to share your location at all times and you have no qualms. Not at first.

But it begins to get to much.

Where are you going, who are you with. What are you doing. Come home. Do you have to go out. No don’t go. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.

You half think it’s because of the baby and he’s simply worried for the both of you. It’s his fatherly nature kicking in.

But there’s a breaking point and it comes when you come home on a Sunday night.

——

“Hey baby.” You smile, setting down your little shopping spree for the baby. Just a few essentials. Blankets and bottles.

He doesn’t return your greeting. Head down in silence while he stares at the wall.

“Where were you?”

You frown, “not this again-“

“No. You keep going off to places without letting me know first I thought we talked about this.” he hisses.

You lean against the counter. ”I stopped to get a little snack?”

He shrugs. “You could have waited till you got home.”

You scoff. ”i'm pregnant Carlos, most things can't wait. You know how it is.”

”I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He mumbles.

“What did you say?”

He stands, facing you with brows furrowed. “Ever since Jude you keep running off. Are you seeing him?”

”Are you crazy?”

”i dont know look at how you’re acting. I’ve given you everything, and you keep sneaking off.”

”Im pregnant with your child for fucks sake and you think im with another man?”

”I’m not sure if its even my child anymore. Funny how he turned up again when you started to show.”

Your skin bristles. ”I’m going to give you a chance to take it back Carlos or else.”

”or what? You’ll go back to him? Maybe I should go and knock someone else up so you can know what it feels like.” his voice raises to a yell.

That’s just the thing isn’t it. Yo already know what it feels like. You watched it happen with Jude and now he accuses you of the very thing that almost drove you mad.

Tears burn in your eyes. You don't stick around for any more, taking your keys and walking to the door.

“Don’t you dare leave. You leave and you won’t see me ever again do you hear me. “ he screams, finger pointed at you.

You look back for a moment. Gone is the Carlos you love and replaced with this beast that hurls insults and accusations. You walk out, driving away to anywhere, anywhere at all as long as its away from him.

Your second heart break comes from Jude just like the first. Only this time indirectly and crumbles a marriage you once treasured more than anything.

You can't face his family. Certainly not his mother. Not after this.

——-

You go back to your families home. Back in your home town.

It shocks them, how you turn up at their door. You drove the whole way back, just like you did leaving.

Your mother cries for you and you don't have the heart to explain your end in full.

You’re due in about 3 months. And your days and filled with sorrow. You try you best. You know it’s not good for the baby. It’s a girl you find out. Carlos always wanted a girl. You try you really do but things are near impossible on your own.

You get a call from his mother, appolgizes tumbling from her tongue. Pleading with you for forgiveness. She tells you there’s always a spot for you in her home. If you’d like you can move in. They’ll take care of you here.

You thank her between sniffles but you say you don’t know. You just need time.

You’re nearing a breaking point yourself.

——-

Time is running out for you to make sense of things.

You miss Carlos, or well you miss the Carlos you once loved. The man who bought you a home just because he could and he listened to you.

The man who was so sure of loving you.

The only thing he seems sure of is pretending you don’t exist.

Maybe if you would have just taken Jude back when he first came to you

——-

Jude hears. Or course he does.

He promised himself to stop meddling in your life. To stop keeping up with you and just leave you alone. But when news reaches him. A piece of him breaks.

It’s his fault isn’t it. You had a home. A life. A marriage, a husband and very soon a little family.

There he goes again, ruining it.

He finds your contact info and it lays in his phone, u able to bring himself to press call. What buisness does he have in your life anymore truly.

What more can he do, say, feel?

The fields have long burned, only ash and ember in their wake. And still he recognizes them in a heartbeat. He knows you will too. For he knows you.

How can he apologize in a language you’ll understand?

——

You get a call from an unknown number while you leave another appointment. Same old same old, try to relax stress isn’t good for the baby blah blah blah. If you could relax you would but it isn’t that easy isn’t it.

You pick up before looking properly and a familiar voice comes to life. Jude.

He can’t stay away it seems. He can’t leave you on your own.

“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. If I knew i would have never-“

”its okay Jude.” You sigh. ”its not your fault. He just- changed and it scared me so bad.”

His voice hasn’t changed all that much, just a tad deeper.

You don’t blame him. You’ve forgiven him for everything. There’s a million ways Carlos could have handled things and he chose to blame you for it all. Choose the path of accusation. That is no one’s fault but his own.

“Do you need help?” Timid. Hesitant.

You pause. What else do you have to loose. The very least you need to figure something out for your baby.

You don’t have friends close enough to call up. Not even friends when you think about it. Acquaintances at best.

You consider taking up Carlos’s mother on the offer. Your baby would be well taken care of. Brought up in luxury and comfort. Nothing would ever be more than a stone's throw away.

But you run the risk of seeing him again. And you know if he were to find out it would create a whole other problem.

Your savings will cover 2 years max if you really stretch them out. And you know your parents cant keep you under their roof forever. You do need help. But you don’t know how to ask. How to accept.

He picks up on your silence. “No string attached I promise I just-“ he takes a deep breath, “- I can't do nothing. Not when you’re going through everything that you are. “

”Thank you Jude.” You sniffle. Tears forming in your eyes while you look into the sky.

——-

Jude sends movers to help you move your things into an apartment by the end of the week. All you have to do is get into your car and follow. You need to do something about the car. Its technically under your name. The one he got you as a gift.

You feel so out of lace in it. Maybe you’ll sell it. If not for the money to erase any traces of him for good.

Jude visits you the following week.

He’s grown. Oh how hes grown. A man now. He gives you the spare keys with a small smile. No red ribbon.

“Its set for a years rent and all. No need to worry. I figured you’d want to stay near your family so.”

You give him a hug, unable to stop yourself. Even if your belly makes it awkward he wraps his arms around you. He’s smiling.

“I cant thank you enough.” You’re crying again. Tears pooling in your eyes.

He helps you sit down on the couch, giving you his arm to steady yourself on. “Hey hey. It’s alright. I got you. No need to thank me.”

”why did you come?” you mumble. Hand still on his.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He picks at his pants.

”After all this time you still do?” You still love me?

“I never stoped. I told you as much.”

You nod. “Thank you again anyway.”

”Call me if you need anything. There's a chauffeur I use when I’m in the area. I'll give you his info too. Whatever you go give him a call. Or if you need any shopping done he’ll take care of it.”

”Are you sure?”

He smiles, “more than sure. Go rest now you’ve had a long week.”

———

You only hear from Carlos when he sends the divorce papers. You dont think twice. Signing them and sending them off to his lawyers.

His only request is to see his baby. You refuse at first but his lawyers are firm. So you come to an agreement one weekend at the end of every month. Starting when you recover.

You end up keeping the car.

You want nothing else from him. Just to never see him again. You can’t accept any apology after the way he disrespected you.

You mean it. More than you meant it with Jude.

——

Jude ends up coming to appointments when hes in town. You don’t know how it happens. But he goes. Holding your hand and letting you lean on him every step of the way. You never say no. In a way you need him. In many ways you do.

It’s familiar. Being with Jude. You slip back into old habits and he never corrects you. Just gives you a tight smile.

Every break he spends with you and within an instant the baby comes. Carlos is not allowed anywhere near you. You name her after your favorite flower and give her your last name.

She’s your whole world. You can barely hold back your sobs when they hand her over to you.

Jude drives you home from the hospital and skips pre season training to be with you.

He helps you with her and for a moment it's like this is the ending you always dreamed of. A glimpse of what could have been. If you only ignore that it’s Carlos’s child, you are not with Jude and you’re closer to his pity case than his lover. But you can dream.

——

“She’s crying again.” Jude mumbles, woken up from her cries.

He’s been sleeping on the couch. To make it easier for the both of you.

You groan, picking her up gently and trying to get her back to sleep. Nothing works her cries only get louder and you are on your last straw.

“Jude can you come here.”

He pads to your room, opening the door meekly as you stand with her in your arms. “Can you hold her while I make her bottle please.”

He nods, opening his arms while you gently set her in his arms. She fits in his embrace like she was made for it.

You come back with a bottle to your baby softly sleeping agaisnt his chest. Little cheeks snug agaisnt him while she breaths softly.

You mouth a silent thank you and let him out her back inside her crib. Tucking her under her blanket and giving her a little pat to the head.

You could get used to this.

——

You fall for Jude once more. As your little girl turns one you find a rhythm with him. She even calls him dad. You never correct her. There’s no need. He does all a father would and more.

Carlos drops from her life before she can even walk. You don’t care.

You make the trip to Spain yearly so she can meet her grandparents at the very least. This isn’t their fault. You hold nothing against them. His mother blames herself for her sons actions and you know nothing you say will change it.

Jude retires before he can turn 35. And you marry. Nothing outlandish. Just you and him and your baby at the court house.

You get ice cream on the way home and watch her favorite movies till she falls asleep.

“We made it back to each other in the end. “ He kisses your lips. Soft. Gentle.

You hum, pressing yourself closer against him. “Always you and me.”

The promises you made under the stars have found you after all. In your own home with your baby you love more than anything. Raising her and walking through life hand in hand. Even after everything, you don’t think anyone else would come back for you. Fight for you the way Jude has.

Your peace has come.

#jude x reader #jude x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude fluff #jude bellingham headcanons #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #carlos sainz x reader

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elswing · 3 months ago

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i hate posting discourse it's pointless and doesn't do anything for me except prolong my annoyance but i'm Tired™ and feel like shouting into the void. apologies to my beautiful feanorian mutuals please look away i love u

i neeeeeeed everyone to stop claiming they like elwing if their characterisation of her is completely made-up biased bullshit that paints her as an immature and disdained ruler (?????) who couldn't balance her responsibilities with the husband she married too young (at 22. practically a child bride honestly) and the children she never wanted (where. where does it say this). she's clearly such a bad mother that she abandoned them at first opportunity (she knew the feanorians were more than capable of killing a pair of twin boys because they literally already did that. that's very much a thing that already happened. to her brothers) and it was her selfish nature that made her soooo eager to flee (she had no reason to think ulmo would save her it was literally a suicide attempt. she wanted to make sure the deaths of her people and presumed deaths of her sons weren't in vain by ensuring they never obtained the silmaril)

like i'm gonna touch your hand as i say this. it's okay if you hate her! just don't pretend that you weren't thriving in the 2016 era of silm fandom where everyone pushed all their male fave's negative traits onto any other woman in a 5 mile radius to grab Poor Little Meow Meow status for war criminal #1 #2 and #3 to then turn around and spout the exact same (factually untrue) sexist rhetoric concealed under seven layers of buzzwords just because it's the year of "unlikable and complicated female characters" like buddy who are we talking about here. have you perhaps considered making an oc?

and i'm NOT saying i want the whole fandom to mimic my exact opinions and thoughts about elwing i realise that one of the best parts of the silm is how divisive it is and how you have so much wiggle room to come to your own interpretations because of how VAGUE the source material is but i'm genuinely convinced everyone's just parroting shit they saw in ao3 fanfics where maglor is secretly lindir and the premise is elrond sneaking him into valinor and elwing yells at him for slaughtering her people. TWICE. and this is framed as a category 5 Woman Moment so elrond disowns her and calls maglor his real dad

(eärendil misses this entire ordeal because he went on a voyage to save the world that one time and no one's let him live it down since because the whole fandom as a collective decided he did this because he's a terrible dad and not because the whole continent was at war and about to be wiped out and maybe he came to the unfortunate but reasonable conclusion that leaving is the best thing he could do for his family if it meant there was a chance his sons could grow up safe in a world that wasn't ruled by Fucking Satan so now his whole Beloved Sacrificial Lion: The Thin Line Between Doomed and Prophesized Hero™ shtick is tossed out in favour of.... *checks notes* Guy Who Forgot To Pay Child Support? oh and they're a lot louder about this because he's a man so no one can call it misogyny that's why no one ever goes the #girlflop #ILoveMyBlorbosNastyAndComplicated route with him and he gets dubbed as that one asshole who just wanted fame and glory even though that goes against the general themes for tolkien's hero characters. and tolkien loved that dude to bits that was his specialist little guy so you can't seriously tell me you think that's what he was trying to portray???????? is that seriously what you think he was trying to portray????????? babe????????????

also there's a BIG difference when it's a character that's only named in one draft and doesn't exist in the rest or gil-galad who has like three and a half possible fathers but ELWING??????? the only possible way you could be coming to these conclusions is if you read the damn book with your eyes closed. FUCK.

#im clicking post and then never opening my mouth about it again #i got all i needed to say out in one solid swing that's good enough for me. pacifism restored 👍#anti feanorians #<- which im not but i genuinely dont want to shit stir #elwing #earendil #silm #mine

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mysteryshoptls · 9 months ago

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SSR Idia Shroud - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: It hits so different when the real deal's right in front of me! I can feel my power level rising just by basking in these creators' true art!!

Summon Line: Phone's switched off while in the museum. I don't gotta worry about the daily missions on my mobile games, since I've cleared them all already. 'K, time to get going.

Groooovy!!: Everyone has a weakness or two. Obviously, that includes immortal heroes, too... Heehee.

Home: 100 years, not bad...

Home Idle 1: I can basically draft up designs and blueprints of tech systems using software, but when it comes to actually doing art... Basically, I'm more of a read-only type lurker.

Home Idle 2: That sleepy looking King of Beasts painting kind of reminds me of Leona-shi. Especially how it looks like he could pounce at any moment despite looking like he's not paying any attention.

Home Idle 3: I was surprised that I could buy whatever design of postcards I wanted from the shop. I'm so used to it just being something like 3 random cards in a pack out of a possible 50 or whatever...

Home Idle - Login: Hoards of art made by top-tier artists! Seeing it live is just a whole different sensation! Time'll just fly by here... I wonder if I can see 'em all.

Home Idle - Groovy: Crazy how Silver-shi can just spam the "praise" button over and over again without any charge time needed... I got no defenses on how to deal with this sort of thing.

Home Tap 1: If everything in life could be fixed just by singing Hakuna Matata, then I'd be a bright little extrovert by now...

Home Tap 2: I thought there was some sort of sparkling statue at the entrance to the cafe, but it was just Vil-shi checking out the menu.

Home Tap 3: So, it's true, then, that Ace-shi's got super nimble fingers? Not fair at all that on top of being a smooth-talker, he's also got that kinda dexterity.

Home Tap 4: This fit... It's way to shimmery for a gloomy guy like me... Eh, it works? U-Uh huh... Okay.

Home Tap 5: What do you want? If you want to try to get in the way of my nerd out, you're just asking to get your forehead flicked! And I'll be the one who has to do the flick... I bet you feel bad now, huh?

Home Tap - Groovy: C-Can you help me carry the merch I got from the shop to the storage lockers? Th-Thx... I'll grab you a coffee later.

Duo: [IDIA]: Silver-shi, thx. [SILVER]: Aye, Idia-senpai!

Birthday Login Message: Siiiigh... As expected, I didn't win a greeting from Premo's birthday present campaign. Looks like, as always, I'm just a poor soul that'll only get birthday wishes from my family and my games... EEK!? WHEN DID YOU GET HERE!? Eh, you came to wish me a happy birthday? I-Is that so...? Well, thanks. Wheehee.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #idia shroud #silver #twst idia #twst silver #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: leona #mention: vil #mention: ace

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vernons-girl · 9 months ago

Note

hi! yeah um i.. read ur newest fic 'not her' with kmg and i kind of wanted to add a continuation to that...? (only if u want to ofc!)

so basically reader got her heart broken by mingyu and her sister, soooo she goes on and vents her feelings and how heart broken she is to another one of her pals, seungcheol (without knowing seungcheol likes reader) so he comforts her and u can probably add the ending (fluff or angst or anything!)

im sorry this is too long.. i rlly tried to make it shorter lmao (btw i LUV ur fics so much)

not her | kim mingyu - choi seungcheol pt.2

PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 (final)

angst, fluff,wc:2.5k

taglist: @gaslysainz ; @graybaeismytae ; @mansaaay

a/n: did i completely put mingyu aside in this part? yes. will i make a part three where we really dive into the drama with everyone kdrama love triangle way? you guys tell me hehe

You couldn't bear looking at the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes so you gathered your stuff in a hurry and left, completely forgetting the idea of shopping for a new outfit.

You made it home in record time. Rushing to lock yourself in your room once you made it through the door.

Mingyu choosing someone else than you was one thing, but your sister going behind your back to betray you, after you had confided in her? That was a whole other thing.

You couldn't help but cry as soon as you found yourself alone in the comfort of your room. You were feeling too many things at the same time and couldn't quite pinpoint why you were crying. Was it the pain? The anger? The disappointment? The heartbreak? Maybe it was all of it at once.

You couldn't bare the idea of having to face any of them about the issue right now, let alone having to see your sister when she would get back home, so you did the first thing that came to mind : you packed an overnight bag, texted your most trustful friend and headed over to his place.

You reached Seungcheol's place about an hour after you had texted him. You hadn't told him much over text, actually you hadn't told him anything besides 'can i come spend the night?' to which he agreed, of course, he didn't need to know why you needed to spend the night over at his place when you had a perfectly decent bed of your own, he just agreed without any further questions.

He greeted you at the door with a worried look on his face that he couldn't conceal no matter how hard he tried. You've confided in him before, but never did it feel so worrying. Without a second thought, he pulled you inside with a hug. The action broke down all the walls you had tried to build on your way there instantly. You felt as if you were falling apart in his arms, melting in his embrace perhaps, and you let the tears stream down your face, not caring about the embarrassing whines coming out of your mouth as you did so. He didn't seem to care either. Because all he did was hold you, closely, firmly but carefully, rubbing soothing circles on your back, shushing you like one would do with a baby. But it all felt so right amongst all the chaos around you that you let yourself be in the moment, until he pulled you straight on your feet to lead you to the living room, "Come on, let's talk about this around a warm drink, yeah?" he said, trying his best to show off a reassuring smile.

You obliged and sat down on the couch as Seungcheol got some snacks ready along with something to drink. In the meantime you allowed yourself to relax, sunking down onto the couch wishing it could somehow swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Seungcheol joined you pretty quickly so you didn't have the time to get lost in your thoughts once again. You straightened up to grab the cup he was handing out to you from the tray he had placed on the coffee table in front of you.

"Sooooo..." Seungcheol started, he didn't want to push you into it but he still needed to at least have an idea of what was going on.

You took a sip of your drink followed by a deep breath.

"So... I had a crush on this guy, and I genuinely thought that he could like me, you know?" you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

"And I wasn't the only one thinking this.. my sister thought so too." Seungcheol now had a curious look and urged you to keep going.

"I was supposed to meet up with him in a few days and I really wanted to confess, I really did." this time, the tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't help it, it was so fresh, so hard, your body needed to express this unbearable inner pain it was feeling.

Seungcheol offered some comfort with his free hand coming to rub up and down your arm, "We don't have to talk about it any more if you don't feel like it," he reassured you.

"No, it's okay, you affirmed, so, you started again, I wanted to make things right, I wanted to impress him, to make him like me any more than he might already do, so I went to the mall to do some shopping, a sob escaped from your dry lips, but then I saw them, him, her" you sniffled, letting out shaky breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"Them ? Him? Her?" Seungcheol asked.

"My crush and my sister" you finally said, your heart breaking a little more. The look on your friend's face changed to... confusion?

"Wait so you saw your sister with your crush at the mall? What about it?

- They were kissing, Seungcheol. Kissing."

Upon hearing this last word, his expression morphed to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the fuck?!" he suddenly exclaimed, almost slamming his mug down onto the table.

"She kissed him knowing you liked him? This is so twisted. I can't believe it." He let out in disbelief, rubbing a hand down his face.

"And he didn't tell me either. He never told me he was seeing someone. What if she told him about my crush on him and they both fucked me over? you put your face in both on your hands, crying softly, What am I supposed to do now Seungcheol?" you questioned desperately, almost pleading him for an answer.

He leaned back in his seat, looking up in thought.

"Who is he?" he finally asked.

"Who's who?" okay maybe it wasn't the best idea to play dumb, but how could you tell him that Mingyu, your friend who also happens to be one of Seungcheol's, broke your heart ?

"The guy, he said firmly, who's the guy?" ok so now he wasn't playing. You've never seen him look this serious before, the concern and anger still obvious on his face.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst when you breathed out : "Mingyu."

He clenched his fists upon hearing the name leave your shaky lips. As a matter of fact, his whole body tensed.

"So you saw Mingyu kissing your sister who knew you liked Mingyu ?" he summarized.

"Yeah.." you confirmed, your gaze lingering on the floor, the carpet curiously looking much more interesting than you friend who was sitting across from you.

"Does she know ? he asked

-Mh?

-Your sister. Does she know you saw them ?

-No, they didn't see me and I came over before she got home, so we didn't talk about it.

-And do you think he knew?

-Knew what ?

-That you liked him ?

-I don't know.. I don't think so, you reasoned, he would never be so cruel. you affirmed

-Yeah, you're probably right.." Seungcheol agreed, even though he wanted nothing but to punch his dear friend in the face for hurting you, he also knew it wasn't his style to hurt people's feelings. I mean this guy literally apologized to his last girlfriend for breaking up with her so of course he wasn't going to hurt one of his closest friends.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is a messed up situation, no doubt about it," he muttered, his expression reflecting a mixture of concern and anger.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief knowing Seungcheol was there to listen, even if he couldn't magically fix everything. It was nice knowing there was at least one person you could trust in this whole mess.

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol leaned forward, taking both of your hands in his, his eyes fixed on you. "Listen, I know it hurts like hell right now, but you're stronger than this. I'm not going to tell you to not think about it because I know it feels impossible right now but you need to focus on yourself, okay ?

- Yeah.. you replied.

- What do you need right now?"

You thought for a moment, wiping away the tears that still lingered. "I just... I need some time to figure things out. Away from all of this," you said, gesturing vaguely around you.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Alright. I get it. You can stay here as long as you need. I'll be here for you, okay?"

You managed a weak smile, feeling a sliver of hope, "Thank you, Seungcheol. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled back, a reassuring presence in the middle of all of this turmoil. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you're not alone in this." he finally said, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze.

And as you glanced over at Seungcheol, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest, realizing just how much he truly cared for you. Perhaps, in the midst of all this chaos, there was a silver lining after all—a silver lining named Seungcheol.

"Come on, let's get you settled in bed, yeah?" he said, standing up and offering his hand out for you to take. You did so and followed him down the hallway.

As Seungcheol led you to the spare bedroom where you would be spending the night, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside him. On one hand, he was glad to be able to offer you a comfortable place to rest after everything you'd been through. But on the other hand, he couldn't shake the pang of jealousy he felt at the thought of you sleeping under the same roof in a bed that wasn't his.

As he pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows, he tried to push aside those selfish thoughts. After all, what mattered most was that you were safe and comfortable. But as he glanced over at you, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked in the soft light of the bedside lamp, your eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still so full of resilience.

"Here you go," he said, gesturing to the bed. "I hope you'll be comfortable here."

You offered him a grateful smile as you sank down onto the mattress, letting out a contented sigh. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I really appreciate it."

He returned your smile, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. "Of course. Anything for you."

As he turned to leave the room, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form. In that moment, he realized just how much he cared about you—more than just a friend, more than just a crush. And as he quietly closed the door behind him, he made a silent promise to himself to always be there for you, no matter what.

As you settled into the comfortable bed Seungcheol had prepared for you, your mind started to buzz with thoughts of the events that had unfolded earlier. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you as you thought about your sister's and Mingyu's betrayal. A notification from your phone interrupted your thoughts, a message from your sister asking where I was, seemingly worried as to what you were up to. Against you better judgment, you decided to ignore it for the moment as you let out a heavy sigh and turned your attention to Seungcheol.

He had been so kind and supportive throughout the evening, offering you a safe haven and a shoulder to lean on. His actions spoke volumes, and somehow you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more behind his gestures. The way he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice—it all hinted at a deeper connection between you. And as you drifted off into a restless sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Seungcheol's feelings for you ran deeper than mere friendship.

After ensuring that the spare bedroom was tidy and comfortable for you, Seungcheol made my way to the living room to clean up the mess from earlier. As he picked up discarded snack wrappers and empty mugs, his mind also ended up wandering to the events of the evening.

He couldn't shake the anger and frustration he felt towards Mingyu for hurting you, someone he cared deeply about. And yet, amidst the chaos, he couldn't deny the flutter of hope that sparked within him at the thought of being there for you, of being the one you turned to in her time of need.

As he finished cleaning up, he reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Mingyu, his fingers hesitating over the keys. Despite his anger towards him, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was his chance to finally confess his feelings to you. But as he stared at the blank screen, he couldn't bring myself to send the message. Instead, he pocketed his phone and made his way back to the spare bedroom, his heart heavy with uncertainty and longing.

As Seungcheol lay in bed, the weight of the evening's events heavy on his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

As he mulled over the possibilities, a nagging thought tugged at the corners of his mind. What if Mingyu wasn't entirely clueless about your feelings? What if, somehow, he had sensed your affection for him, even if you hadn't explicitly confessed it?

The idea seemed far-fetched at first, but the more Seungcheol thought about it, the more it made sense. Mingyu was perceptive, after all, and he had always been attentive to the people around him. Perhaps he had noticed the subtle glances, the lingering touches, the way your face lit up whenever you were near him.

But if Mingyu was aware of your feelings, why would he pursue a relationship with your sister? Was it out of genuine interest, or was there something more sinister at play? Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle missing, something lurking beneath the surface that he couldn't quite grasp.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions, Seungcheol's thoughts inevitably turned to you. Despite the troubles of the evening, one thing remained clear: his feelings for you ran deep. With each passing moment, his love for you only seemed to grow stronger, anchoring him amidst the storm of uncertainty.

As he vowed to uncover the truth about Mingyu's intentions, Seungcheol's resolve was fueled not only by a sense of justice for you but also by a burning desire to protect you from further harm. For he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it meant confronting his own heartache in the process.

With that thought in mind, Seungcheol closed his eyes, feeling a sense of determination wash over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his unwavering love for you. And as sleep finally claimed him, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that, somehow, everything would turn out alright in the end.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

Note

I need something borderline illegal. Like dark and twisted. Like I want to question my moral compass but read on.

Am I asking for dad’s best friend!Joel? pshhhhhh. Am I asking for bratty! reader?? Pshhhhhh. Am I asking for anything???

Am I asking for smutty smut?! Yes I am.

Ofc if you are uncomfortable with any of these don’t hesitate to ignore this and also no pressure ily ❤️

a/n: reader isn't bratty, im sorry! i forgot :((

sleep

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!virgin!reader

summary: Joel can’t stay away from you any longer.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, voyeurism/somnophilia + dub-con, dry humping, cum in pants

wc: 4.0k

a/n: i hope this is dark enough!! the only reason the ask is a ss instead of the actual thing is cus i formatted the whole story then realized i forgot to put it in the reply to the ask (loosely proofread)

It’s 2 am and Joel can’t stop thinking about you. How you’re sleeping soundly in his room, in his bed, in his shirt as pajamas because you had “forgotten to pack some”, something you both knew was a lie. He knows you’re toying with him, you started a bit before, but since you’ve turned 18? It's just been on rapid fire.

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through your text thread, scoffing at every other conversation. It was so apparent, in every text, how badly you want him.

Mon, Aug 16 at 4:41 AM

bbg: big man! text me when u wake up i have a joke

You: Why are you awake at this time?

bbg: wtf why are YOU awake 🤨

You: I have trouble sleeping, you know that.

bbg: aww poor joey 😢

You: Are you going to answer my question, darling?

bbg: im doing skincare and stuff

You: You have to wake up this early for that stuff?

bbg: can’t put a price on feeling bonita

You: Why are you speaking Spanish now?

bbg: nevermind lmao

bbg: so have u tried meditation

You: What?

bbg: for your sleeping troubles

You: I’m not that kind of guy.

bbg: what about getting off

You: Excuse me?

bbg: like masturbation n stuff

You: I know what you’re saying.

You: I don’t understand why you’re talking about this with me.

bbg: we haven’t even talked about it 😭

bbg: obviously we can end the convo if ur uncomfy but its a very good way to fall asleep

He remembers needing a pause after he read that text for the first time. It had only been four months since your birthday and you were already drastically different. Joel never expected it, he always thought your feelings had already reached their limit but it turns out you were holding back because you weren’t of age. Now that you are… He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. His morals may not be strong enough for the thought of “ his best friend's daughter” to hold him back. He’s already rationalized himself out of the “daughter's best friend” thought. You’re not even going to school together anymore. Sarah lives on campus so you guys never see each other and you barely ever text.

You: I have not.

bbg: what? literally how?

bbg: you should

bbg: it totally works

You: That’s good to know.

You: Get back to your skincare, honey. I’ll message you later.

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:03 AM

bbg: joel?

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:37 AM

bbg: are you masturbating?

You: Sweetheart. You can’t ask me things like that. It’s not right.

bbg: u didnt answer! i got curious

You: Still.

bbg: i dont see the problem we’re both adults 🫢

You: Barely.

bbg: dont be mean

You: Do you need something

You: I said I’d text you later

bbg: wow no punctuation?

You: Busy

bbg: getting off?

He remembers staring at your text, unbelieving that you’d send him something like that, so forward, so dirty. He remembers the thought that you were joking. Obviously, you don’t expect him to say yes, that’s why you asked in the first place. Maybe his perverted mind was interpreting your behavior as flirting but you’re just being yourself around him. All these thoughts were swirling in his head but the feeling of his hand flying over his cock, pretending it’s yours, that you're in his ear whispering to him... That thought was stronger, that feeling was stronger.

You: Yes.

bbg: good. have fun, joey

He gets up for his fourth beer, hoping to drown the impure thoughts, starring you, that plague his mind. It’d be so easy to have you, you’ve been throwing yourself at him since you turned 17. He’s been ignoring it, adamantly. It wasn’t right, despite the age difference, the fact that you’re his daughter’s best friend and his best friend’s daughter. On top of that, you only just turned 18.

You’ve been staying at Joel’s for a month. He takes the guest room because you say that his bed is better. You haven’t gone home because your dad is still working on your birthday present/room renovations and he doesn't want you to see it until it’s done. He offered up Joel’s house to keep you, knowing his best friend wouldn't mind, unknowing that his best friend was corrupt for his daughter.

Joel was trying to ignore the way his body was heating up, still scrolling through the texts. He remembers that conversation perfectly. He remembers the adrenaline that was coursing through him as he confessed. He remembers how hard he came at your response. When thinking about this conversation he also remembers the guilt, it’s the most vivid emotion he remembers, usually. But the alcohol seems to be drowning that part out, and Joel scrolls on.

He finds a patch of texts that he actively avoids, usually. It’s picture after picture of you in the most adorable outfits in the most suggestive positions. There are plenty of you lying on your back, some with your head turned to show off your perfectly curved, unmarked, un-bitten, neck. There are a few where you’re sitting down with the camera angled up, giving Joel too many situations his head can come up with. Then there’s the worst one, his favorite- he doesn’t even know how you took this one. You’re sitting on your knees, hands rested on your thighs and you’re looking up at the camera with a shy smile.

There are two things about this photo that really fuck him up.

First, your smile, the way it lets him know that you’re trying to fuck him up, you know what you’re doing with this pose, this positioning, you’re even embarrassed by it, a little nervous about it but you still felt the need to take the photo, for him.

Second, the height, and the way the camera is positioned shows him that these photos were specifically crafted for him because the height the camera is at is exactly how he’d see you if you were on your knees like that for him.

You made sure that he noticed because the very next day, you needed him to tie a bow in your hair and instead of waiting for him to get off the couch you placed yourself on the ground, between his legs, in this pose. He had to hide his erection until you left and then fight the urge to get himself off in your room for the rest of the night.

He glances at his room door, you’re sleeping so soundly in there.

She wouldn’t even notice if someone went in there right now. She definitely wouldn’t notice me… Hell, as if she’d mind either way… I mean- Would she?

The alcohol clouds his thoughts, gives him bad ideas, and then convinces him that they’re good- this one being one of them. He grabs his almost-finished beer and heads to the fridge to grab a fifth one, knowing he’ll be in there for a while.

He does this sometimes, you look so peaceful when you sleep… it’s the only time he can admire you without putting all his relationships at risk. He reaches the door and turns the knob slowly to avoid creaking. He enters the room, his socks padding his footsteps, and the darkness gives him no shadow. He moves one of your tops off of his desk chair and turns it to face your sleeping figure while placing his beers down. You’re already bringing a smile to his face. You’ve got your face shoved into one of his pillows, your arm tucked under it, and your leg is pulled up to your waist, sticking out from under his tan comforter. You’re wearing one of his hoodies for sleepwear—

Fuck.

and it doesn’t look like you have anything on your bottom half. It’s a little cold in his room so little goosebumps have bloomed over your exposed skin. He takes a swig of beer, finishing his fourth as he examines you. Your face twitches for a moment, your eyebrows furrow, and your nose twitches like a rabbit before calming back down. He opens the other beer and fills his mouth with it, hoping that the alcohol stops the fluttering in his stomach while he drinks it down.

You shiver a bit but your leg doesn’t move, the goosebumps just become more prominent. His hand is reaching out for you before he can think, rubbing your calf gently to soothe and warm you up a bit. You let out a relieved sigh at his contact and your leg presses further into his warmth. He has to take a deep breath as his mind runs wild, convincing him that this is some sort of sign, that even in you’re sleep you’re trying to be closer to him, that he should just give in.

No, she’s your best friend's daughter. Sure she’s her own person now, legally an adult, an’ can make decisions for herself… an’ yeah she’s not owned or controlled by anyone and just cause I’m friends with her father ain’t a fair reason to completely rule her out from being a potential partner… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… maybe it’s actually more fucked up for me to avoid her just cause of who birthed her. That’s totally not fair to her! I mean I know I wouldn't want anyone judging me based on who my parents are y’know? Maybe I should put myself in her shoes.

His breathing speeds up as he breaks through his last piece of resistance. Now he’s just trying to figure out how soon he can have you.

I’ll have to court her first, flirt with her a bit before asking her out to dinner, then maybe she’ll accept my offer to be my girlfriend by the third date… From there maybe she’ll have sex with me for the three-month anniversary… she might be a bit more timid than that but we’re looking at a four- five-month plan… That can work- I can definitely work with that.

You whine and stretch your body, your legs straighten and your arms spread out, you turn and rest one arm on top of your head before you lift your leg, bending it above your waist but with the other one this time. The new position leaves the blanket covering nothing but one of your inner thighs and to add insult to injury your raised arms lift his hoodie, revealing a beautiful sliver of your stomach.

Or I could have her now.

The thought is too powerful to stop, his opportunity is too perfect, Ellie is out with whatever girl she’s currently entertaining, and Sarah doesn’t live here anymore. Your father would never be awake at this time and Joel is hard, wanting, and so so ready for you. He’s crawling into bed beside you after downing half his beer for the nerves.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

He settles next to you and your leg presses into him again, searching for him and his warmth. You slowly turn to him as he stares at you, watching how sluggish your movements are in your sleep. You snuggle into the pillow in front of him and take a long inhale of its scent, a little smile resting on your lips while you breathe out. Your face is inches from his, and his hand is down his pants in an instant.

The relief is heavenly, he’s been throbbing for you since he read those texts. He can’t help the way he reacts to you. He can smell your toothpaste on your breath as you gently snore in front of him. He wraps his warm hand around his cock and his soft lips part into an ‘O’. His eyes roll back for a second but he immediately focuses them back on you. He’s tugging at himself violently, not even thinking about savoring this moment, just needing to cum for you. He’s trying to hold in his sounds but you look so pretty, just seeing your face while he’s touching himself makes everything better, somehow you’ve turned his sensitivity as high as it can go.

Little whines and whimpers slip into your dream state. You’re confused by the sound, the rustling that coming from—? In front of you? Your brows furrow as you try to open your eyes. “Fuck” You hear someone say. It sounds like…

You open your eyes just in time to see Joel yank his hand out of his sweatpants and scramble as far as he can get from you before falling off the bed. You’re still confused as you take his form in. His shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing the salt and pepper hairs on his tummy. His hair is sticking all over the place, he stinks of beer, and his eyes are wide, focused on you. “Joey?”

Despite the horrid situation he’s in, his cock is still leaking for you, pulsing at the nickname. He can’t answer, he has to bite back a moan as he feels himself leak into the fabric of his pants. “Joel? What—” Your eyes flutter, almost falling shut but you shake yourself out of it and— Fuck.

You move closer to him.

You’re too snuggly when you’re sleeping, too cute, and too dumb. You’re not even questioning why your father’s best friend was in bed with you while you were sleeping. You don't want to risk him leaving and you don’t mind in the first place, you actually thought you were dreaming at first. Your heart almost stopped when your fingers actually latched onto his shirt after reaching out for him. He’s stiff as a board, deterring your touch so you pull your hands into your chest and bury your face in his.

Joel is almost shaking in exertion as you press your soft little body against his. It’s just your upper half, leaning into him and finding wam solace in his chest. He can handle this, he thinks. He can calm down, and be with you like this. He’s supposed to court you first anyway, he can’t believe himself. Was he really going to just get off with you in the same bed? What kind of pervert would even try something like that?

You hike your leg up over his waist, half asleep, not realizing your motions.

All his perverted feelings return with a vengeance.

You wiggle around a bit, trying to get comfortable but his cock twitches, flicking into your soft lips for a moment. At first, you really didn’t know what it was, all you knew was that the sensation felt good. So of course you chased it. Your hips grind into his cock arrhythmically, trying to find that same angle again, not realizing that you’re basically fucking him through your clothes. His hands have to come to your hips, gripping painfully for your eyes to snap open and your hips to freeze.

Your eyes widen further when you finally process the situation, and even in all your teasing and sensuality, at the end of the day, you’re still just a virgin. You never had any real intention of acting on your desires, especially if Joel wasn’t the one initiating.

Oh fuck. What did I do? What do I do? He’s just staring at me… Maybe he didn’t notice, I didn’t! But it felt so good. Will he let me? Maybe if I—

Your hips tilt into his before you can process whether this is actually a good idea or not. His hand tense over yours, like another shock of clarity through your bones. You shut your eyes tight, not wanting to see the disgust or uncomfortable pity in his face. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I didn’t… I-”

You try not to let tears well in your eyes as you whimper and pull back from him. But he doesn’t let you. His arms tense, his muscles flexing as he keeps your body pressed against his. You open your eyes, a bit shocked at his refusal to let you go but still too scared to meet his eyes. Your gaze is on his stomach, the way his gray shirt rode up, exposing the way his belly keeps tensing with every breath. “I-” He manages to get out before letting out a shuddering sigh. You finally look at him.

His eyebrows are pulled taut in between his eyes, his gaze is something you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks angry. It’s desperate, but sorrowful, with the added haze from his intoxication. He keeps biting at his bottom lip, worrying it red as he tries to form a sentence for you. His hands tense over your hips again but this time they tilt you into him again. His face is a hard grimace as he slowly presses you into his raging bulge. You watch him fight with his expression, it keeps breaking into something weak before he goes back to his angry pout. You can’t help the way you press into him, you want to feel it again, that fire in the pit of your stomach that spreads to your soaking pussy the more he pulls you in. You watch his face contort into something heavenly. His brows pull up, almost shocked at how good you feel as his eyes roll back and shut. His entire body shakes as he melts into the pillow. He’s breathing deep and slowly, trying to regulate the pleasure he feels.

Now he’s focused on savoring the moment. He wants this to last as long as it possibly can. You’re making him feel incredible, he’s so sensitive, it’s like he’s been edging himself for you. You whimper, high-pitched and muffled but it’s so beautiful that he forces his eyes open. You have one hand gripping the bedsheet like it’s your lifeline and you have the other bitten between your teeth to hold your sounds in. Your hips are grinding into him at an uneven, unsteady, desperate pace and he’s mesmerized by the sight.

He knew you wanted him. He didn’t know you needed him. You’re fucking yourself against his cock like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life. Your hand comes up to grip his shoulder instead of the bedsheet. He grunts and tilts his hips further into yours, a sadistic smirk coming to his face at the sound of exclamation that shoots from your mouth once you’re able to grind your clit against his shaft. Your thrusts start to stutter at that, your body constantly wanting to fold in on itself from the assault of pleasure but you try and will yourself to keep going.

Unfortunately, your pace is ruined by your pleasure. Your sensitive body can’t handle how good his clothed cock is making you feel. You lose your pace and your pleasure becomes rocky and teasing. He watches as your face changes from pleasured to pouty. Little whimpers and whines of frustration slip from your lips, growing in volume and frequency the longer you’re unable to grind against him properly. Joel’s watching you through hooded eyes, fingers digging into your hips painfully at this point and all he wants is to not cum yet. He wants to make you cum first, he needs it, he needs to see it, to hear it.

He’s been telling himself it’s fine because you’re grinding against him, not the other way around. You’re choosing this, there’s no way he’s manipulating you, or swaying your decision if he stays completely indifferent. But you’re begging him now. You’re gripping desperately at his shirt, removing your hand from your mouth to grip him harder and pulling yourself closer, wrapping your arms around and moaning right against his chest. He shouldn’t. He can’t. But he does.

His eyes shut tight as his hands leave your hips. You almost climb on top of him in protest, whining a loud “N- Please.” into his chest as your leg hikes higher onto his waist. One of his hands cradles your head, pulling you further into his chest, muffling the moans you’re already letting out at his touch. His other hand goes to the small of your back, pressing you against him perfectly and guiding your rhythm as your hips start up again. He dares to speak. “S’this okay, baby?”

Your reaction to his voice is visceral. Your hands shoot up to his shoulder and hair, pulling yourself up a bit to bury in his neck, getting a new angle from his cock, now fucking him against your leaking hole. “So good, Joey. Thank- Thank you s’much. Thank you, thank you.” Your gratitude is like a searing knife through him. His entire body is set alight as he tries to regulate his breathing. He can feel goosebumps break out on his skin, his pleasure filling every molecule in his body, ready to overflow for you. Fuck. He’s definitely going to cum before you.

“Mm. Good, good girl. Just- Keep going, sweetness, take what— Shit. Take what you need, darlin’.” His breathing quickens and shudders as your hips increase their pace against him. He’s leaking continuously now, he’s getting in his head, trying to stop himself from cumming but every thought that pops into his mind just brings him closer to the edge. He can’t focus on anything but you. You’re moaning for him, grinding against him, this desperate for him.

The hand on your lower back migrates to the back of your neck, gripping you there, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust into yours. “M’gonna cum, darlin’. Fuck, I wanted t- wanted to last for y- Mmm oh fuck.” His entire body starts to tremble as your nails dig into him so painfully he’s sure they drew blood. Your eyes are comically wide as your body tenses in his hold before breaking down into a shudder that overtakes your entire being. You’re cumming.

He explodes at the realization. In all his desperation, intoxication, and pure need… He was still able to make you cum first. He buries his face in your hair, huffing the scent as he floods his sweatpants. His eyes shut as tightly as they can as his orgasm tears through him. He’s been waiting so long for you to make him cum and now that it’s happening, it feels even better than he planned for. His low grunts turn into shocked moans when his orgasm doesn’t stop after shooting two ropes of cum against his sweats. You’re already coming down as he hits what feels like his second peak. You can feel his hands shaking over where they’re gripping you and you get an impulse that you act on without a second thought.

Your hand slides down from his shoulder quickly, over the sliver of stomach he’s showing off, and right down his pants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you just grip him, wrapping your hand around his shaft but it seems to do the trick. He lets out a sound that resembles someone getting kicked in the gut. His face is pulled from your hair as his head is thrown back. He arches into you a bit before his hips start thrusting into your fist, desperately prolonging his already overwhelming orgasm. It’s embarrassing; how long he was cumming for, the way his body was violently quivering for you, the ludicrously large dark spot spreading over his pants, showcasing how much he came for you.

He moans gently when he comes to. You’re stroking over his chest with a soft, sleepy, nervous smile. He pulls you in for a kiss before he can think about it. You guys haven’t discussed anything. Neither of you knows what this means for your relationship but you know that neither of you has felt more comfortable than when you’re in the arms of the other. So why question it now?

You fall into a deep sleep listening to Joel’s heavy snores, getting rocked to bed by the way his chest expands. It’s the best sleep of your life.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

psst psst. hey you!! i have a part 2 if u want 😏

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guillotinna · 2 years ago

Text

I keep seeing these Gen z is task force 141 and I wanna join

Anytime you use a computer, you do that stupid movie hacker trope of exaggerated typing and say "I'm in"

Saying "POV" in front of sentences

In the group chat saying "1 like and I'll kms", liking your own message and then saying "damn guess I gotta"

I see a lot of these posts were Gaz and Soap would understand y/n....bffr, no those geezers would not

No one knows what the gen z kid is saying they just know it's probably not good

"You're telling me a shrimp fried this rice?"

You have a small photo you keep tucked in your chest pocket and after enough times seeing you looking lovingly at it, one of the guys asks who it is. Is it a s/o from back home? 😏😏

You say no and pull out a photo card of your fave singer and they're like ??? Really

One time during a particularly physical scuffle with the enemy, you get thrown to the ground and huff out "one hop this time" only to promptly tackle tf outta your assailant while saying "take it back now yall"

Reads everyone's zodiac charts except ghost bc he won't tell his birthday let alone the time he was born so you just make one up

Price calls a 6 am meeting to which you say "double it and give to the next person"

*Alexa, play teenagers by MCR*

If you had time describe the base, you'd say it smells like ball sweat, blood and war crimes which everyone took offense to for different reasons

Would absolutely get soaps doodles tattooed

Actually speaking of which, imagine getting caught giving yourself stick and pokes with a pen and being banned from using pens period

You'd be in a meeting with a #2 pencil

Ofc a gen z member would be absolutely feral which very little regard for their own safety much to the dismay of the others

Quoting "Oh these aren't homemade, they were made in a factory....a bomb factory......they're bombs." All the time around soap even though he has no idea what you're talking about

You don't spent too much alone time with ghost bc he likes quiet and you can't be alone with your thoughts which is why you lean more towards spending time with soap or gaz

I just like puns so I'm gonna add this but gen z love borgs (a customized gallon jug of alcohol that is usually given a name) and yours is appropriately named taskforce 1-borg-1

this is mainly for my americans but i know pretty much the whole world got beef with engl*nd: before you met Soap, you thought the entire 141 was en*lish so when you finally did meet him, you said "oh thank god" with a sigh

americans 🤝 scotts

making fun of english "people"

"Pull up in the monster, automobile gangsta With a bad bitch that came fr-" "....sergeant, comms off please"

you show Ghost WAP and he has to take a walk

*price yelling at gaz and soap*: KYLE GARRICK AND JOHN MACTAVISH GET IN HERE- Y/n: oop not the government name

Another for my US baddies: if your'e ever arguing with any of the guys, the nail in the coffin would be "and it's called soccer"

"one more like and i'll-" "enough!"

you call Price "ms. girl" and he could not be more confused

someone asks "do you serve?" and u reply "yah, serve cunt"

when asked why you decided to join the military you said something like: "well i didnt think i'd live past 18 so when I did, i ended up here".....crickets from the rest of the team

"good thing we only have showers on base because i would have already taken a toaster bath by now"

ask Gaz "no bitches?🤨" one more time see what happens

price: the enemies have taken civvies hostage and blocked off all exits and entrances to the town-" y/n: "omg tea"

Also calling price "capt. Save-a-hoe"....I wanna be saaaavvveddd ;)

If you took a shot every time you said "rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, I dive in her cervix", you'd be dead lmao

When asked if they like the military they'd say "it was either this or the psych ward so yah, I'll take it"

Quoting MPGIS constantly and no one even sort of knows what that is ("Crack. Is that what you smoke? You smoke crack?")

Some detainee being interrogated is spilling some nonsense, so you hit them with "oh brother this guy stinks!" And then with the butt of your gun

"Little bad trini bitch but she mixed with China, real thick vagina, smuggle bricks to-" "SARGENT ENOUGH"

Falling asleep on team mates (minus ghost's) shoulders mostly because the most peace they get is when you're unconscious

*when y/n hears any slightly suggestive/dirty phrase*: what are we talking about 😏 (iykyk)

Same energy as: " born next to a nuclear power plant, has an IQ of 2 and was hit in the head with several Rocks as a child"

Vine quotes out the wazoo, it's just awful for the rest of the team lmao

Replying to everything with "on god?"

soap: "what are you 6?" y/n: "yah 6 inches deep in your mom".....you did not walk away from that unscathed to say the least...worth it tho

#cod mw22 #call of duty #cod x reader

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m4rs-ex3 · 3 months ago

Text

so i finally finished the book 1 novelization. after owning it for 3 years. .............................................i've been busy. anyway, let the thoughts commence!

also i only started marking sections at like ep 5 don't ask why

even CLAUDIA could tell that rayla was a cinnamon roll

stop she's incredible

a) he's a dork b) i think they should kiss

"this freckle-faced goof [gren] was going to be the easiest prisoner he'd ever encountered." is he right? yes. am i still taking offense to this? yes

"'i didn't kill anyone,' Rayla said. it surprised her that she was so proud of this fact." YAS YOU GO GIRL

these additional details are incredibly necessary thank you so much Book

"Viren blinked twice, amazed at the folly of his own offspring." i know that it's incredibly sad but goddamn that is so funny

STOPPPPPPPP I CANT 😭 the use of the word "adored" no one fucking talk to me

them

"Rayla and Callum didn't know how easy they had it, what with their long legs and no heavy dragon egg on their backs."

the way that even back then ez was already thinking like a king, even when the subject was so "not of a king's concern," for lack of a better term (why am i rhyming)

what can i even say about this oh my god

"'no, not really, dummy.' sometimes, Rayla could barely believe the denseness she had to put up with."

god i love him god i love him i l obe him i love him i love hiom oi love hiojm and everybody clapped

sometimes these slight dialogue changes mean the world to me

his autistic ass 😭

"he turned and spoke only to her." i am dying

"i've always been different. it's hard for me to make friends with other kids. i just feel like i don't fit in." -> "i've always been different. i don't really 'get' other kids, and it's... so hard for me to fit in." this is AUTISTIC CODING he has AUTISM that is IT we have autistic claudia try and tell me that this child does have the tism and that they don't fucking know that

LMAO LITERALLY KICKING ROCKS HE'S SUCH A PISSBABY I LOVE IT

this is Everything to me. i. a moment of all time. behead me

i think they should kiss pt 2

STOP THEY CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS TO ME THE SIBLINGS OF ALL TIME ISTG

"Callum lingered" "for some reason, she wanted to share what she had seen with Callum, even is she didn't tell anyone else" i. think. they. should. kiss.

"Callum glared at his brother. there was a ginormous spider in their way. many things about this situation weren't right."

SHUT UP WHAT DO I EVEN SAY ABOUT THIS. OH YOURE TELLING ME THAT RAYLA IS IN A WHOLE NOTHER CLASS FROM ELLIS AND AVA?? THAT SHE IS SO MUCH MORE THAN A "FRIEND"??? BOTH IS THE SENSE THAT HE IS MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER AND THAT HE JUST GENERALLY MEANS MORE TO HIM????? IM THEOWING U _P (hey guys i think they should kiss)

shut the fuck up. buddy. i am gagged

oh Him

damn girl's always had a problem with Layla 💀

dear christ. the matter of fact "no, this is not your fault" (4x06 "Rayla. don't."), "he couldn't let Rayla carry that burden alone" (5x04, anybody?) also i am 100% reading way too far into this but it's still callum's pov so he is the one who described her "violet eyes" and i just would like to state this for the record

and oh yeah i think they should kiss

#ur not allowed to make fun of my picture taking #everyone who's already read the books like “yes and”#book one #book one novelization #s1 novelization #book one moon #tdp s1 #rayllum #tdp #the dragon prince #continuethesaga #giveusthesaga

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im-sleepdeprived · 4 months ago

Text

Seasonal • Pt. 4

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’ where you and peter discover just how hard it is to hold on to something from your past, no mater how much you love each other

a/n: you guys i hate it here, like i actually just want them to make out already, also to the person who commented a couple chapters ago saying they wanted to see peter’s pov, this is for u

warnings: awful descriptions of photography (im not a photographer im so sorry pls lets all just ignore it), reader just straight up dipping in every situation, jealous pete lmao, reader trying to be mad, also i made peter super hot, like, more hot than usual (i was ovulating) ok bye

masterlist, read part 1, part 2, part 3

Peter had always known he would be with you. It was only a matter of when. When would he get the balls to act on his never-ending crush?

For a minute there, he had you. He felt like he owned the world. You wanted him, you loved him, and he thought the wait was finally over. This was the moment all the other moments in his life had led to.

He’d never told you (nor will he ever) but he’d never done a project on astronomy. That night you’d helped with his wounds after he’d crashed on your fire escape (the night he was hurt and all he had wanted was to see a familiar face, and his first thought was you), the night you’d told him you had a special interest in stars, he’d went home and stayed up all night to learn everything he could about them.

After doing that for several days, he took a night off patrolling to swing around the whole city (and a little further, if he were being honest) to find the perfect spot for your little stargazing date.

He just wanted everything to be perfect for you, always. It was why he used to wake up an hour earlier every day before school and grab you a cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe. It was why he made sure to pay extra attention in your least favorite classes, the ones you struggled with the most, so he could help you with your homework and notes because he knew you’d need it. It was why he tied your shoelaces every time they came undone and you just ignored it. He held open every door, he cooked sometimes (though poorly), and he randomly bought you flowers and left you little notes everywhere.

All he wanted was for you to be completely happy. Which is why he had to end things. Every part of his heart disagreed, every inch of his bones disagreed. But he knew the reality of the situation, and he couldn’t do that to you.

Peter couldn’t leave you stuck in a dorm room, missing out on parties or hang outs with your friends, waiting for him to call. He couldn’t be the reason your phone was stuck in your face 24/7, worrying about him. He couldn’t have you staying up till 3AM waiting for him to send you a text telling you he was okay, that patrolling that night had gone well. Even if it hadn’t.

College was so important to you. You’d tried to downplay it to him but he knew how much you were looking forward to this, and he couldn’t be the one to take away from that experience.

He didn’t transfer back here for you.

Or at least, that’s what he spent countless hours and sleepless nights trying to convince himself. New York was his home, it needed him, it needed Spider-Man, May was getting older, he should be close to her, Columbia was a great school, it was his first choice. The fact that you went there was just a perk.

Or a con.

He wasn't sure anymore because seeing you here, in front of him for the first time in years, it left him breathless.

Peter was always a romantic, though he’d be loathe to admit it. He wanted that one true love, he wanted someone to come home to and talk about his day with, and afterwards he would listen to theirs. He wanted late night talks, early morning confessions. Dancing in the kitchen while food cooked on the stove, getting so lost in each other’s eyes that it almost burns. And he genuinely thought you two would find your way back to each other somehow, because he’d known since he was a little boy it would always be you.

But now he’s started to wonder if just because it would always be you, that might not mean he would actually get to have you.

Because there’s a man beside you.

He’s holding your waist.

And you’re not pushing him away.

“Ace?” Asked the man (who looked nothing like Peter, by the way, and it was driving him insane). Now Peter never considered himself a violent person. As a preteen and an early teenager, he’d been puny and weak, but even after he’d became Spider-Man he never liked to resort to violence unless absolutely necessary. But right that moment, he felt an inexplicable, almost primal rage he’d never felt before. And he wanted to punch this man in the face. Yeah, that sounded like it could help.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Old nickname.”

The man beside just narrowed his eyes slightly, which didn’t help Peter’s urge to sock him in the face. He watched as his grip around you tightened and the man pulled you in closer, almost possessively. “Introduce me babe.”

Babe? Was this guy for real?

“Oh right,” you shook your head slightly and let out another slightly too high-pitched laugh and Peter almost felt bad for putting you in such an awkward position. “James, this is Peter. He’s an old friend of mine from high school. Peter, this is James. My boyfriend.”

Peter’s heart sank. He shouldn’t have been surprised, and he wasn’t. He could tell by the way James was holding you, the way he called you babe (which was tacky in Peter’s opinion. You deserved something a little more special than ‘babe’ ugh) but hearing you say it? He was afraid he might blackout.

He hadn’t expected you to go celibate or anything, but damn. Hearing you call someone else your boyfriend fucked with him in ways he’d never experienced.

He could see the shock in your eyes, the disbelief as you stared at him as if you couldn’t really trust yourself to see what you were seeing.

“So…how’ve you been?” He asked casually, as if his heart wasn’t racing out of his chest right then, and he knew yours was doing the same.

Your brows furrowed, “I—I’m good, wait,” you scoffed and closed your eyes tightly before opening them again. “What are you doing here Peter?”

Right. You didn’t know. Fair enough, he hadn’t told anyone until everything was already set in stone. “I just transferred in this semester. I go here now.”

And if he thought your eyes couldn’t get any wider, he was wrong. He almost thought that they’d fall out of your head.

“What?!”

The shock was written all over your face, but…there was something else, something he couldn’t quite place. After years of knowing you, it was concerning to him that he might not be able to read you as well as he used to.

Peter wasn’t sure what kind of reaction, exactly, he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. He tried his best to only stare at you because he really didn’t want to look at fucking James right now. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “it just…felt right. Thought I belonged here.” His voice was quiet because he wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore. Was this right? Did he belong here anymore?

You stood perfectly still, no emotion on your face, and he wished more than anything he could read your mind right then. James looked back and forth between the two of you before he lightly tapped your hip, making peter’s heart churn, “I think we should get going, we’re gonna be late.”

He watched you look up at him, dazed, “Oh right, yeah, we should go. Bye Peter,” you didn’t even look at him as you said it, turning around and leaning into James’ hold as you walked away.

Yeah, this definitely wasn’t how he expected this to go.

“You wanna talk about that?”

You scoffed. “Not really, no.”

“So he’s an ex,” James replied, and it wasn’t a question. You trudged forward, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in your chest. Almost two years. Almost a whole two years where you’d imagined countless scenarios of how your reunion would go, but you’d never imagined he’d ambush you on your college campus, claiming that he’d transferred, while you were walking around campus with your current boyfriend.

You inhaled deeply. “Yeah, and I have no clue what he’s doing here.” You’d never really told him about Peter, it just hadn’t come up. If you had to refer to him while sharing a story, it was always as an ‘old friend’ or ‘neighbor from across the hall’. You’d never liked calling him an ‘ex’.

“Well I do,” you looked up at him questioningly. “He transferred this semester, obviously.” You huffed out a laugh and tried to focus on your footsteps. Just keeping walking forward, you thought. God, not even a full 5 minutes together and it’s like he’s completely thrown you off.

“Where’d he go before?”

He didn’t know anything. You were so used to the people in your life being so involved with you and Peter, already knowing everything, knowing when and where to bring him up after the breakup (usually trying not to bring him up at all for your sake) and you guessed that’s why you’d never told James about him, it was nice to have someone who didn’t know everything there was to know about you and your past. This way, you’d get to unveil those things at your own pace.

“He went to Duke.”

James whistled. “Good school,” he admitted, and you nodded. It was a good school. It was a great school that was 8 hours 27 minutes and 36 seconds, which is how far away Peter was supposed to be. But he wasn’t. He was here, attending the same school you were, the same school he was originally supposed to attend. With you.

“He seems cool enough, maybe we’ll see him around.” You wanted to give James credit for how cool he was trying to be about this.

“Maybe,” you forced a smile. You wondered just how much you’d be seeing him around and just what that meant.

“Pete you have no right to be upset about this,” May said, shaking her head on the other side of the phone.

“Don’t you think I know that,” he groaned and clutched the phone tighter to his ear as he walked around campus. It had been a couple of days since your little interaction and it had been on his mind since it happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. “And I’m not upset! I’m just…surprised.”

“What were you expecting?” May asked.

“Not him, thats for damn sure,” he mumbled grumpily. Truthfully, James had never done anything to make Peter hate him, he might even be an okay guy, but that wasn’t for Peter to find out because he was dead set on hating his guts, valid reasoning or not.

“Pete he’s not that bad,” his aunt tried to reason. “He’s actually an okay guy, he’s sweet and—”

“She deserves more than okay! And what about—wait a minute…have you met him?”

The line was quiet for a moment, confirming his suspicions. Peter scoffed just as May said, “it’s not like that! He came over during winter break and I happened to run into him. I spent a few hours at their apartment and—I don’t have to explain myself to you! Look Peter,” May sighed and he could picture her rubbing her temple the way she usually did when he got a little too much for her sometimes, “you broke up with her, you stopped reaching out, and you were the one who chose not to see her during your winter break,” she scolded through the phone and Peter felt his whole body flush with shame and guilt. He had done those things and there was no denying it, but while he might’ve considered them the only options at the time, god did he regret all of it after seeing you with that guy.

“I know,” he admitted in a low voice, “I did fuck up, and we can talk about that later but I’ve gotta go for now, May, bye.”

“Bye, Pete,” she replied, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he hung up and stared at the door in front of him. After your first meeting, he wasn’t sure if this was as good an idea he had built it up to be in his head.

Too late, he thought, and pushed open the door too the newsroom.

“Hey, Peter right?” A redhead approached him with a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah that’s me,” he shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulder and held out a hand.

“Alyssa, I’m the editor,” she said as she accepted his handshake, “I cannot tell you what a jam you’ve gotten us out of, really we’ve never run this low on members. Usually, we’re fighting them off with a stick, but apparently there aren’t too many people into photography right about now.”

“Oh hey, no problem. I saw the notice in the newsletter,” he shrugged, “thought I’d try something new.”

“Well, I really appreciate that Peter, I saw the photos you sent me, they’re amazing. Honestly, if the ones you submit for the paper are half as good, we’re going to be perfect.”

“Thanks Alyssa,” he always appreciated when people spoke well about his photography. You were always his biggest fan when it came to his interests and hobbies. You knew everything about him, from big to small, and yet you never belittled any part. He wondered if you had any clue how much that had meant to him. In a world where people praised Spider-Man for being the strong willed hero he was while simultaneously berating Peter for…well everything, you did the opposite. You loved him, every part. From the boy who went out to fight crime almost every free hour he could get, to that same boy who would sit on your bedroom floor and do physics homework with you and was crazy good at it.

He felt a sudden nervous feeling overtake him at the thought of seeing you again in the newsroom. He knew you were on the paper, duh, but when he’d seen the notice that the news team was in need of an extra photographer to two this season, he’d thought it a good opportunity. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with you, or spending time with you. Of course not.

Alyssa walked him around, introduced him to some of the people there, the other photographers (only one, at present, his name was Ryan. Apparently there was a shortage of people willing to take photos for the paper this semester), and by the end of his mini tour he couldn’t deny the small amount of relief at not seeing you…and yet at the same time…disappointment. Maybe you just weren’t in today.

He spoke to soon.

Stopping back at the front of the room, Alyssa turned to him again, “Well, I think that’s most of the people, at least, who are in today. Y’know, it’s pretty slow for start of the semester—” Her eyes darted somewhere behind him, obviously distracted by something. Peter watched her face light up before she said, “Oh! Looks like I was wrong,” she beckoned someone to come closer. Peter could feel the vibe shift in the room. “Peter, this is Y/N!”

Peter turned and could see the exact moment you faltered. Clearly, Alyssa didn’t. Nor did she notice the not-so-subtle looks you were throwing her way. “Y/N this is Peter, he one of our new photographers.”

To make things even better, James chose right then to walk in. “And this is James!”

James came to stand right beside you, taking up a stance much similar to the one he had during their first meeting, except this time his arms draped over your shoulder and tugged you into him.

“Oh, we’ve met. Patrick, right?”

Peter definitely didn’t like this guy.

“Peter,” Alyssa corrected, “I was just introducing him to Y/N, he’s a part of the photography team.”

“Oh I don’t think they need much of an introduction.” James remarked. You winced. Peter wanted to punch him. Poor Alyssa was growing more confused by the second.

“So…have you two met as well?” She tried.

“Lyss do you remember when I told you about Peter from high school?” You trailed off at the end, hoping she’s catch it on her own.

Alyssa snorted, “You mean the dick who broke up with you on graduation? Yeah I remember—” she gasped and looked at Peter, then back at you.

You nodded. Alyssa couldn’t keep the shock off of her face. Finally, James spoke up, “And as lovely as this has been, we should really get to work.” Peter watched as he pulled you away to a pair of desks on the other side of the room. He watched you take a seat at one, James at the other, and he wondered if this was how you’d met him. Did you like him because he attractive? Funny? What about him had caught your attention in the first place? And then the worst thought of all, did you love him? Peter repressed a shudder, he couldn’t handle that right now, or maybe ever.

He turned back to Alyssa, who had been standing quietly beside him since her earlier remark about him (rightfully so, he had been a dick), “So where should I set up?” He lifted his backpack on his shoulder for emphasis.

Wordlessly and wide-eyed, Alyssa pointed to an empty desk. It was two desks across from yours.

This was going to be interesting.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your Peter was here! In Columbia! Joining the paper!”

It hadn’t taken your roommate long to find some (shitty) excuse to drag you out to the hall to give you the talking-off you were expecting. “I can go in there and fire him right now!” She was flexing her powers as the new editor.

Lyss had made abrupt climb to editor at the end of last semester. Brandon had resigned to take some time to himself while he applied to grad schools all over the country and went through the trials and tribulations that was senior year of undergrad and honestly, you couldn’t have thought of anyone better to take him place. You’d all gone out to celebrate, the whole news staff, but the two of you and James had had your own little celebration at your apartment later that night.

“I’m sorry! It’s just been so hectic! You’re so busy all the time, you’re barely home, and honestly I didn’t really believe it at first. And he’s not my Peter,” you scoffed, “he’s just Peter.”

Lyss snorted, “Y/N there’s no way you could possibly think I’m too busy to hear about all this, this is huge! Tell me everything!” She exclaimed eagerly. “When’d you first run into him? How did James know? Did you tell him? Oh my god, what did he say?”

“Calm down girl,” you held up both hands. “I ran into him a couple days ago, James was with me, and he was actually super cool about it!”

Lyss gave you a look. “What?” You asked confused.

“Now, what exactly had you thinking he was cool about it? ‘Cause that was not the vibe I was getting in there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Patrick? Please,” she giggled, “that was totally on purpose, of course he remembered his name. And the way he had his arm around you?”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “This is all so crazy. I don’t know what hell he’s doing back here.”

Lyss perked up, “My offer to fire him still stands babe! Just say the word and poof,” she made a gesture with her hands, making you laugh.

“We both know can’t actually do that. We’re running low enough on photographers as it is, you can’t just fire a perfectly good one.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, “I can always grab a camera and try my hardest. I always thought I’d be great at photography.”

You grinned, walking back towards the door to the newsroom, Lyss following beside you, “Oh yeah? How come?”

“I don’t know,” she frowned, “that was a total fucking lie, I’ve never thought twice about photography. But I probably could do it! If it came down to it.”

You laughed as you entered, but one of the other writers quickly interrupted it “Alyssa, we need your help with this layout.”

Lyss looked at you smiling, “Duty calls, this isn’t over.”

You smiled, “Go. We’ll talk later.”

As she walked off, you made your way to your desk, avoiding any eye contact with Peter. It was just your luck he got sat right across from you. You briefly wondered if Alyssa’s editor could get him moved. You’d have to bring this up with her later.

A file dropped on your desk, causing you to look up. James stood above you, smirking and successfully blocking your view of Peter (if you were trying to look over at him, which you weren’t). You wondered it he’d done that on purpose. “Those copies you were looking for,” he proclaimed, pointing towards the file, “fresh out the printer.

Shit. You had completely forgotten about these with everything and you needed them to finalize the current article you were working on. Smiling, you gushed jokingly, “My hero, thank you so much!”

James’ smirk grew as he placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “Just call me your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

You were about to laugh until you heard a scoff come from behind him. Your smile fell from your face and you watched James’ expression change as he turned to see Peter. “Something funny man?”

“No,” Peter replied, not even bothering to look up from his computer. That was until he let his eyes meet yours. It was barely a second, but it was long enough for James to notice.

James stood perfectly still in his spot in front of your desk before silently walking over to his and taking a seat without another look at either of you.

You tried to get him to look at you so you could silently apologize or something, but he wouldn’t budge.

You weren’t sure how this was going to work.

You swiped your hair out of your face as you walked out of the lecture hall, your shoes echoing on the hard-tile floor. Stepping out of the building, you took a deep breath. You’d had a long day and you couldn’t wait to get to your apartment and crash on the couch. You weren’t even sure if you could make it to your room. You’d try to get in a nap before you were supposed to meet up with James tonight. The two of you had been busier lately and you’d felt bad about everything going on with Peter, so you tried to set aside some time just for you and him. It was going to be a low-key night, just the two of you ordering in, maybe watching a movie, you thought it was much needed.

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Peter leaning against the wall of the building adjacent to the one you just exited. The photography building. You hadn’t seen him recently. Even at the newsroom, it seemed the two of you had different schedules lately.

You kept your head down, hoping he wouldn’t notice you.

“Hey Ace! Wait up.”

Clearly, you wouldn’t be so lucky.

You paused, not even bothering to pretend like you hadn’t heard him. It was Peter, you knew him better than you knew yourself, he would’ve just chased after you.

You took in his appearance as he walked up to you. You hadn’t really given yourself the chance before, with James around and everything…Peter had changed. You could see it now clearer than ever. He moved with a confidence in himself and with his body he hadn’t possessed before. And he looked buffer.

Peter had told you how after the bite, everything had changed, his senses, his appearance, and while he had definitely been strong before…now there was visible muscle to back it up. You suspected than even if he tried to hide under baggy sweaters like he did back in high school, it wouldn’t work. But something told you that this new Peter was done hiding.

Gone was the scrawny little kid you’d known your entire childhood and before you stood a handsome young man who would’ve left that same little kid awestruck. “Been hitting up the gym?” You asked once he was close enough to hear.

Peter chuckled, “Yeah, actually. I started back in freshman year, it helped clear my mind off everything.”

How someone could possibly juggle classes, homework, super hero work, workouts, and manage to eat, sleep, and drink, you’d never know. But if anyone could do it it was Peter.

“May and I were talking.” Safe bet to start with May, you thought. “She was asking about you, said its been a while since she’s seen you.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, a little confused as to where he was going with this, “I haven’t been home in a bit, but we’ve texted.”

“Oh yeah, that’s nice!” Peter reached to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his you knew all too well. “If you wanted you, could come over for dinner with us sometime. She’d love to have you.”

“Umm…” was he serious right now? “Thanks Peter, but my schedule’s kinda packed right now. I’ve got like three essays due and I have a big article coming up soon, so I’ll have to pass. Tell May I miss her too though.”

“Oh, the competition, right? That’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. You know about it?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I think I heard Alyssa mention it and you having something to do with it. Congratulations, by the way, I heard it’s a pretty big deal.”

You grinned, “It is. Front page big deal. I’m excited.” You admitted.

Peter smiled, so genuine you could see those crinkles form beside his eyes. You remembered how you used to trace them with your fingers. “All your writing belongs on the front page, if you ask me.”

You blushed. He couldn’t just say things like that, not anymore. “Thanks, but you haven’t even read any of it yet.” You hadn’t had a piece published since he’d arrived here, he couldn’t have read any of your work yet.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, with no further elaboration.

Your phone rang, cutting off your conversation. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled it out to see James’ name flashing across your screen. You held up a finger to Peter and walked a few paces away before answering.

“Hey!”

“Hey babe, so listen, Nash just broke up with his girl and we thought we’d take him on a barhop to cheer him up. I’m picking you up at 10.”

Your brows furrowed. Barhopping did not sound like something you wanted to do tonight, or ever. And didn’t you already have plans? “Um, weren’t we supposed to hang out tonight?”

“Oh pfft, that wasn’t anything special, we were just going to order takeout. So 10?” Oh. You’d beg to differ, him and his friends always found an excuse to get absolutely plastered at least once a week, and the two of you had barely seen each other. At first you’d thought he was a little upset with you because of the whole Peter thing but now…you wondered if he even cared.

You cleared your throat, rubbing the palm of your empty hand on your shirt. When had you gotten sweaty? “No I think I’m good. I have some stuff to work on, but you have fun though! I’ll keep the door unlocked tonight.” It wouldn’t be the first time you’d nursed a drunk and incoherent James (and terribly hungover in the morning)

“Damn, you sure?”

You hummed in response.

“Kay, bye.”

“Bye.”

You shoved your phone back into your pocket. At least now you could take as long as you wanted with your nap.

“Is he always like that?”You jumped. You had completely forgotten Peter was still there, and now he was stepping closer to you, taking back the distance you’d put between you to answer your phone call.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your boyf—James, is he always like that? Partying, getting drunk, barhopping?” Right…Peter wasn’t just Peter. He was also Spider-Man, which meant he’d just heard everything. As if this day couldn’t get fucking better. You didn’t need your ex-boyfriend judging your current one, he had no right.

“No.” You frowned. “So what if he likes to party sometimes? Isn’t that what college is about?”

“I’m not attacking him Ace. I guess I was just wondering how the two of you got together when you’re so different. I mean, even to someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do, it doesn’t take me to figure out barhopping isn’t your scene.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” you snapped back, “not anymore at least.”

Peter paused, a look of hurt flashing across his features, as if that were something he hadn’t even considered. A small part of you relished in it, in him knowing things had changed since the last time you’d seen each other, and he couldn’t just ignore that. No amount of pretending would fill in that gap.

“Goodbye Peter.” You didn’t want to talk about James with him anymore than you already had.

“The invitation still stands,” he blurted. You gave him a weird look. “To dinner,” he explained, “the invitation still stands. I meant what I said, May would love to have you over, and so would I. So if you’ve ever got the time…” he trailed off.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your face. Only Peter could switch your moods so fast, and you had no doubt he meant it about the dinner, just like you had no doubt he would also completely understand if you ignored his offer altogether.

“Thank you Petey, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thank you Petey,”

God he’d bet you didn’t realize it, that the nickname had just rolled off your tongue. You probably hadn’t thought twice about, he, however, certainly had. In fact, the moment hadn’t left his mind. You’d given him a smile so sincere, he would’ve given you anything you asked for just to keep you looking at him like that. And paired with the nickname? He was done for.

He had sat outside the English building in hopes of finally getting to see you again. He was starting to believe he must be a masochist, because every time he saw you it felt like a punch to the gut. Was it possible for someone to get more beautiful by the second? But he couldn’t help it, he was drawn to you, always had been and always will be.

The worst of it was when you were with James. God, just thinking the name made his entire mood sour. But seeing the only girl he’d ever loved with someone else made him want to punch something (someone; and that someone was James). And hearing that phone call you’d had with him only further pissed him off. How the hell could he even think to ask you to go barhopping, if he knew you at all he would know that you would much rather prefer a quiet night at home. And it seemed that was exactly what you had planned, before that douchebag cancelled to go out with his friend.

He had been out patrolling most of the evening and well into the night. Now he was on his way home, it had been a quiet night so he thought he might as well retire early. He could always come back out if need be. That was one of the greater things about college, more freedom, a more flexible schedule, unlike high school.

Just as he was swinging his way back home, he caught sight of a familiar figure lounging on a fire escape. You were home. Peter hadn’t really spoken to you since he’d caught you walking of class. You’d see each other around, but there was nothing more than brief moments of eye contact.

You looked peaceful, reading silently as a soft light filtered through your window. He was going to change that.

He landed softly a couple stories above you. Flipping over, he shot out a web and caught himself so he was hanging upside down. Slowly, he lowered himself until he his head was almost brushing the floor of your fire escape. “How’s it hanging?”

You shrieked, dropping your book in fright. Now, Peter would never want to actually scare you, but he couldn’t help messing around every now and then.

“What the fuck Peter,” you hissed, one hand resting on your heart as you breathed heavily. Peter righted himself and landed completely in one smooth motion.

He swiped off his mask and grinned. “I thought it was funny.”

You whacked him with your book.

Peter threw his arms up and cowered slightly, “Mercy! Mercy!”

“Shut up!” You laughed softly, “Someone might hear you.”

He put arms down and fixed you with a serious expression, “Did you or did you not just scream a couple of seconds ago?”

You whacked him with your book again.

Peter was cackling like a madman at this point and it didn’t take long before you were joining him. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, laughing together on your fire escape, a place ripe with memories of your life together before.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked once you’d calmed down and caught your breath again.

“I was swinging back home when I saw you out here reading. Thought I’d stop by and say hey.”

“Or give me a heart attack,” you murmured.

He laughed again, “Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not,” you rolled your eyes but your smile escaped. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, grinning. This was nice, so nice.

You fell into a soft silence, neither of you wanting to break the comfortable atmosphere you’d created. You decided to speak up, but so did he.

“I wanted to—”

“Ace I—”

You looked at him and held back a laugh. He shook his head softly and smiled. Settling down across from you, Peter stretched his legs out (longer than they were before, and taking up more space, he almost didn’t fit), and he pointed towards you, “You first.”

“Fine. I wanted to say sorry for snapping at you so much since you’ve been back. Its just been…” you fidgeted with your hands and bit your lip, “weird.”

His heart fell a little bit, why in the world would you be apologizing? “Ace, you don’t need to apologize for a thing, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I’m sorry Ace, I know its weird, I know you had no warning when I just popped back into your life, and I know it’s weird.” He nudged your leg with his and smiled, “Hell I’m lucky your even talking to me right now.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Well it’s not like you gave me much of a choice, you cornered me on my own fire escape!”

He laughed. “True, I guess.” Peter added a dramatic sigh before his next sentence, hoping to hide how nervous he actually felt, “I could always go if you want me to.”

“No,” you said softly, “I don’t mind.”

Peter felt like doing a happy dance.

“What’re you doing home?” He asked. He knew you had your own apartment near campus (with Alyssa, he’d learned. He quickly, learned how close you two were, he was glad you had a friend like that.) and he couldn’t think of a specific reason you’d be home.

“My mom bought some new furniture and she asked me to come help her put it together. I figured I’d just spend the night.”

“Oh? I thought she was banned from shopping?”

“She was! Until she wasn’t.” You laughed out loud, making Peter laugh as well.

The night went on like that, you and Peter sharing simple conversation. You avoided touching on the touchier subjects for now. You weren’t exactly ignoring them, both of you knew they were there, sitting beside you as you conversed, waiting to be picked apart and discussed at length. It just seemed that the two of you had silently reached an agreement, that for now, you’d enjoy whatever peace you’d found. Because at the end of the day, first and foremost, you two had been friends. The bigger things could come later.

It had been a week since that night on your fire escape wand you were actually starting to think you could handle Peter being back. Seeing him around had been brief lately, you suspected he was finally getting settled in his classes and his life here, but when you did see him it was easier. Less tension-filled. Unless James was around, that made it harder.

You were laying on the couch in your living room, Lyss laying opposite you, both your legs meeting in the middle. The two of you were watching Pride & Prejudice (the 2005 one, of course, because no one really cared about the 1995 series) while a bowl of popcorn lay half-eaten on the coffee table in front of you.

You reached out and grabbed a handful of popcorn, “Kiera Knightley is so fine.”

“Tell me about it, oh my god,” Lyss exclaimed, dramatically fanning herself. “I watched ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ when I was younger, I’ve never been the same since.”

“I know exactly what you mean. Peter and I watched them all together during one of our summer breaks, and that scene with her and Orlando Bloom had me practically drooling.” You giggled.

“Speaking of Peter,” the way she said it had you thinking she’d been dying to bring this subject up, “how’s that going?”

“Um…good. Well, better, I guess is the right word. Things are going better than the first few times I saw him around but of course there’s still that weirdness.”

“God, I still cant get over how crazy it is that he just randomly pops up here, outta nowhere!” You’d always talked about Peter with Lyss, you’d told her your history with him long before he’d shown up, but now she could finally put a face to the name.

“You’re telling me,” you snorted. “I saw him when I went back home last week,” you shook your head, “we talked on my fire escape like we used to. It was almost unreal.”

“Weren’t you guys no contact since winter break of freshman year?” She asked.

You hummed in confirmation and she whistled. “So he hasn’t given you some grand love proposal, has he?”

You choked on a laugh, “No. Of course not.”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged casually, “you don’t transfer to the school you know your ex-girlfriend attends, join the paper you know she’s on, and hang out on her fire escape where you hung out when you were together unless you still have feelings.”

Frowning, you popped some more popcorn your mouth. You didn’t want to believe Peter still had feelings for you, it would make everything so much harder.of course, there was something there, and if you were being honest, there probably always would be. You were each other’s first loves and that didn’t just disappear into thin air.

But Peter had left you, and you had a boyfriend now. Everything else was irrelevant.

Lyss leaned over and poked your cheek, “Don’t pout, I was only kidding. Sorta.”

“I know,” you said, shooting her a smile.

“Stop thinking about him and start think about the killer article you’re going to write me about tomorrow.” She shot you a wink.

Right. The competition was tomorrow. And you were going with James.

“OH! Hand clench scene!” Lyss jumped up, tearing you away from your thoughts.

Peter had left you, and you had a boyfriend now. Everything else was irrelevant.

Tomorrow should make a great distraction.

The venue was beautiful. You made your way around, stopping to appreciate every photograph, taking in all the details of the art hanging on every inch of the walls. You loved it.

You looked up at James and grinned, “Do you get it now?”

He smiled and shook his head, “To be honest with you, nah.” He smirked at you, “But I’m here with the prettiest girl in the whole school, so what does it matter?”

You flushed and looked down at the empty notepad in your hands, by the end of the night it was probably going to be full. You were going to walk around taking notes of all the unique pieces, but the biggest part of your job today would be later, when they announce the winners. There were three runner ups and then, of course, the first place winner. You’d be speaking to all of them tonight, longer with the winner.

Just as you’d told James, this thing had a dress code. He had gone for a navy jacket with a white button down underneath, and a pair of white slacks. You were wearing a pretty black dress that fell to just below your knees; it had a soft tulle layer that swished as you walked and floral embroidery that ran along the whole thing, the green of the vines and soft pink of the flowers popping out with the darker undertone. You felt good about tonight, really good. Alyssa had chosen to give you this big piece of news and you weren’t going to let her down.

You walked around the venue hand-in-hand with James, getting familiar with the art and the artists, stopping by to compliment a few that really popped out to you. Your favorite so far was a stunning picture taken by a girl named Macy, she’d captured of Bow Bridge at Central Park. She’d used some kind of vintage camera giving the photo an ethereal, elegant, romantic feel to it, with the flowers on the bushes, the green of the scenery, and the golden glow on the bridge and the people walking upon it and boating on the waters beneath it, if it was up to you this would definitely be picked as first place.

You’d tried to get James to see the same beauty you saw in the picture, the almost fantastical vibe of it, looking more like a painting than reality, but he hadn’t understood, claiming it was ‘just a picture of the park’ leaving you more than a little disappointed. Maybe some people really just didn’t understand art.

“Think we’ve seen almost everything,” you murmured to James as you looked around to see if there was a place you hadn’t been yet.

“Actually, there’s a few on the other side of that wall we haven’t seen yet,” he pointed, “been seeing lots of people come in and out of there. I think one of the winners might be there.”

“Oh my gosh I completely missed that part, thanks!” You leaned up and pecked his cheek, making him grin. “Anytime babe.”

That would be your last happy moment of the night.

You walked through the photos slowly and marveled at how, when it came to art, everyone truly had their own style. Each piece had a tag beside it, conveying the name of the work and the name of the photographer. Though most of the presenters liked to hover near their piece in case anyone had questions or wanted to know more, it was easier this way for the judges to get the information they needed.

You were talking to someone about their picture when James nudged you. “Is that Peter?”

He pointed to your left, and you saw the side-profile of Peter talking to someone with his arms crossed. Peter was here? Well, it did make sense, he was a photographer after all. This was more than his scene.

“He’s probably here to get pictures for the paper,” you shrugged.

James held your hand a little tighter as the two of you walked through some more photos. “Alright, this is getting boring,” James sighed heavily.

“Really?” you frowned, “I really like it. I think its fun.”

He eyed you, “You already got the article babe, you don’t have to put on an act anymore.”

You laughed lightly, but you weren’t really finding this funny, “I’m not acting! Did you see ‘love in the air’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen something more beautiful.” That was the name of the piece you’d loved, and you had to say, it was accurate. It was like looking through rose-tinted-glasses, finding the lovely in everything.

“The one of the park?” James rolled his eyes, “it’s Central Park, there’s nothing special about it.” You were opening your mouth to argue when he cut you off, “They’re just photos, babe. Now, when are they gonna announce the winners so we can get outta here?”

You frowned and looked down at your watch. There was only about half an hour until winners were announced. You were going to write down something in your notepad when you heard James mutter a curse under his breath and come to a stop beside you, his hand going limp in yours.

“What? What is it—” you looked up to see what had gotten him and you really wished you hadn’t. In front of you hung a piece you hadn’t seen before, this particular photograph, or photographs as it was more of a collage, had something none of the other ones didn’t…you.

“Who…?” But it was no use because you knew who, and so did James.

Neither of you needed to look at the tag to know who the contestant was, but you did anyway.

‘Seasonal’

By: Peter Parker

It was a bright, colorful, collage conveying the changes of the seasons. One corner had bounds of snowflakes and different clips of snowy fields and icicles, stretching out to merge with the corner opposite of it, summer. Bright blue waves, soft tufts of sand. Both corner melted down the sides of the poster board to create spring, which was full of beautiful, soft colored flowers, sprouting up as if just given life. The project was beautiful, you had to admit. You’d known Peter had a knack for photography but all these photos, the dedication to this project, was extremely admirable. There had to be hundreds of photos, cut up, some bigger than others, and perfectly arranged with each other to create this harmonic view of nature, all taken by him,

But the problem was the center. Autumn. Which was you. It took up the middle body of the collage, it was dead center. Unlike the other seasons, this one didn’t have multiple photos bringing it together, it was the key piece, all the others worked to make this one shine.

That picture Peter had taken of you in Central Park, the one where he’d gotten you to lay on a pile of leaves, made you laugh so he could capture the perfect shot. You’d forgotten about it, honestly, you weren’t even sure if you’d seen it after it was taken. But now, here it was, over two years later, submitted in a fucking photography competition.

“What do you think?” You weren’t sure how long you were there, staring at that photo of yourself, it could’ve been hours, days even, before that heart-wrenchingly familiar voice.

You turned around quickly, coming face to face with Peter, who was looking at you with a heavy expression. You had seen him earlier when James pointed him out, but it was from across a crowded room and you’d only seen his side. He towered over you now, in a black button down, with black slacks and a black belt. You knew you shouldn’t even be thinking it, but he looked good. His shirt fit him perfectly, hugging him in all the right places, and he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his thick forearms. It wasn’t until he crossed them over his chest and looked at you expectantly that you realized you were staring and he was waiting on an answer.

Before you could give it to him, James spoke up, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve.” His voice was low and angrier than you’d ever heard it, causing alarm bells to go off in your head. Peter didn’t bother even acknowledging him, his eyes were solely on you, and that seemed to piss him off even more.

“You think this shit’s funny?” James growled.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Peter rolled his eyes.

You stood shell-shocked in your place, unsure of what to do. “That’s it,” James said, “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.” He stepped forward suddenly, making you jump into action.

“Stop it,” you hissed, but he wasn’t listening, walking from your side right up to Peter.

His previous remarks had gained the attention from the small groups of people who were close enough to hear them.

“Take it down,” he said as he got up in Peter’s face. Peter, to his credit, didn’t budge an inch. In fact, he was looking at James as if he were nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing past. James stood at least a couple inches taller than Peter, and yet he wasn’t the most intimidating one here, not by a mile.

“No, but I’d be happy to take you down,” with a damn smile on his face. You wanted to slap them both.

“You little—”

“Enough!” You stepped in, throwing your arm between them and holding it against James’ chest. You weren’t going to sit there and let them throw hands at an event like this, especially not over you.

Peter sucked in a breath, eyeing the arm you had strapped across James’ front in a feeble attempt to hold him back. Something unreadable shone in his eyes, and his jaw ticked as he met your glare.

“You are not doing this here,” you said in a hard voice, refusing to look at Peter anymore and instead staring up at James. His face was stone and his eyes were set on Peter, whose eyes were set on you.

It was like some crazy triangle or something.

A part of you wondered what a photo of this particular moment would look like. You imagined it would be named something like ‘Lovers Quarrel’. Finally, after what felt like forever, James’ gaze finally slid down toward you. He worked his jaw for a moment before stepping back. “I need to get some air,” he mumbled. Without bothering another glance at either of you, he turned and headed for the exit.

You stood in place, eyes stuck on his retreating figure, when you heard Peter scoff. “Can you believe that guy?”

Rage flew through your blood. “Excuse me?”

“Oh come on Ace,” but his voice didn’t sound as sure as before and you could’ve laughed at the thought of him thinking you’d agree with him, “you know I didn’t start that.”

It was your turn to scoff, “Maybe not, but you didn’t hesitate to tell him how you’d take him down.”

“Well what was I supposed to do?” He asked weakly. All that confidence and haughtiness from earlier was gone, standing before you was just Peter. But you were starting to think you didn’t know Peter anymore. What you’d said to him before, about him not knowing you anymore, you’d said mostly to hurt him. But now…you wondered if there were more truth to your words than you realized.

Sometimes there were moments like that night on your fire escape and it was like things had never changed, he’d never moved hundreds of miles away and the two of you were back just hanging out, the oldest of friends. Two people who knew each other better than anyone else ever would.

And then there were moments like tonight.

You eyed him curiously, disappointment all over your features. You knew he hadn’t liked James but for him to genuinely partake in a fight…

“I don’t know Peter. I don’t know you anymore.” And you turned to walk in the same direction you’d seen James headed to before, but not before you glimpsed the hurt on Peter’s face.

Stepping out the doors, you were hit with a warm breeze and the sound of New York traffic. Shuddering at the sudden change of temperature (the venue had the AC on blast, stepping outside felt like a warm hug) you looked around for James. You caught him leaning against the side of the building with a hand running through his hair.

“Hey,” you said softly, approaching on light feet as you moved to the same wall, leaning right across from him.

“Hey,” he deadpanned, not meeting your eyes.

Your heart swelled with guilt. You didn’t know why; you knew you shouldn’t feel guilty, you didn’t do anything wrong and you had no clue Peter was going to do that, or be here at all. But he just looked so angry right now and you couldn’t help feeling like it was sort of your fault.

“I’m sorry.” You wanted something, anything. Anything other than that cold look in his eyes. You wanted him to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that he wasn’t angry, not at you, just at the situation.

He didn’t do any of that.

After a few seconds and still no answer you raised a hand to brush away the pieces of hair that had fallen into his face in a way you thought would comfort him, but that only had him swerving to avoid your touch as if your hand were made of fire.

You retracted it, your heart swelling with hurt. Ouch. Okay, so maybe he was mad at you. “James…” you trailed off. You weren’t sure what to say, you were afraid the slightest thing would set him off even more.

He shook his head, jaw so clenched you were afraid it would snap. “No,” he ran a hand over his face, “Nah, I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” You asked exasperated, “I don’t understand, what’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal?” He sneered with venom in his voice, and you regretted saying anything at all. “The big deal is—” he cut himself off with a harsh laugh, “Honestly Y/N, if you don’t see it you’re even more blind than I thought.”

Just then, a noise sounded from inside the venue. Microphone feedback. The awards were about to be handed out. You could hear one of the judges introducing himself. You stared at James wordlessly. You didn’t want to go inside and leave things like this but you also didn’t see how you could say or do anything that would fix it.

“James, I swear I had no idea about that,” you cleared your throat, willing your voice not to break, “I didn’t even know he’d be here.”

He wouldn’t even look at you, nodding and staring out onto the street, and that felt like an even bigger hurt. Why wouldn’t he just listen? As if he’d willed it with his eyes, a car pulled up to the curb right in front of you, tearing your gaze away from him for a moment. James walked away from you, hand settling on the handle of the backseat door and realization hit you hard, cold, and fast.

He hadn’t been waiting for you to follow him, to talk things out and make things right again. He’d just been waiting for his ride.

Without even bothering another look your way, “Good luck with your fucking article.”

I don’t know you anymore.

It was the only thing that had been running through his brain since the last syllable had rolled off of your tongue.

How could you say that? How could you even think it? Did you seriously believe that? Did you truly think that he was so different from the boy you once loved, the boy you’d dreamed of a future with, a shared future?

His head was buzzing with thoughts about you and what you’d said when he felt hands on his shoulders pushing him. Looking around, he realized everyone was staring at him. The hands on his shoulders were pushing him forward.

“Go, Peter,” someone beside him whispered, one of the other photographers from the paper, Ryan, who’d been standing beside him in the crowd, he realized, “you won!”

Right. He’d been so focused on you that he’d completely forgotten where he was for a moment. Shortly after you’d walked away from him, the award ceremony had begun. He didn’t even remember walking over here, or the introductions, or any other people being awarded

He wordlessly made his way onto the stage, vaguely recalled shaking someone’s hand, being handed something, a ribbon maybe? He didn’t know, he didn’t know anything except he was on stage, everyone was clapping for him, and he was looking for you.

The closest thing he could find was the photograph of you, also on the stage, sitting in the first place slot beside him. This was wrong, it was all wrong, and it was his fault. You were so excited for this article, you’d told him as much and he could see it, and he’d never wanted to ruin it for you.

To his side stood a petite blond girl, looking to be around his age, hovering close to another photograph. It was a lovely, romantic photo of Central Park. He recalled seeing it earlier as he was roaming around the venue checking out the other pieces. It had caught his attention because it reminded him of you.

It made his heart deflate even more.

More chatter ensued, followed by more applause and Peter tried his best not to look so uncomfortable (May had repeatedly informed him he always looked like he was about to be sick when he was too stressed, and he didn’t want anyone thinking he was about to vomit all over his newly awarded first-prize-winning piece and all the other winners).

At this point, he couldn’t wait for his cue to get off this godforsaken stage so he could find you and apologize. It was the least he could do but hopefully it would make things at least a little better.

“What do you say Mr. Parker?”

He whipped his head toward the speaker. Todd Kravinski, the man running this whole thing, the same one who’d called him up here earlier and handed him the ribbon (and a check, apparently, but Peter hadn’t realized that until after) had asked him something and he’d completely missed it.

“I—I’m sorry sir, what was that?”

Mr. Kravinski chuckled, and Peter let out a forced laugh. “C’mere kid, they’re gonna wanna get your picture, and maybe a little statement for the paper.” His stomach lurched at that last part. You were going to be taking his statement for the paper. You were going to be the one who described his piece and take the pictures he taken and turn them into words. Selfishly, he couldn’t wait to hear what you thought.

Peter walked instructed to stand near his piece, hold up his ribbon and check, and smile. He was paraded around, forced into handshakes, shoving out smiles until the corners of his mouth and his cheeks ached, and patted on the back more times than he could count. And yet all he could think about was you.

It wasn’t until the parading around was coming to an end that he looked up from some stranger congratulating him and caught your eye, standing a few steps back, talking to Lewis, he was third runner-up and they’d been standing beside each other earlier on the stage. Peter swore his whole body froze when he saw you, every time he caught your eye it felt like the two of you were sharing a whole conversation no one else was privy to, even now after being gone for almost 2 whole years, he could feel that familiar warmth, the sensual tug of that bond the two of you would only ever share with each other. And it was so familiar, so soft, so wholly you and him, he could’ve cried.

But then you looked away. And he could’ve cried for completely different reasons.

He made quick work of excusing himself from his current conversation and walked over to where you were chatting up Lewis, writing down things in a small notepad. He found you so incredibly adorable standing there, biting your lip in concentration as you scribbled down something she’d just told you, careful not to miss any details.

“Hey Lewis,” he approached the two of you, your head shooting up at the familiar voice, “Congrats on runner-up, your piece was amazing.”

They shook hands with each other, “You too man, congrats. That was one hell of a collage.”

“Thanks, hey do you mind if I steal Y/N away for a bit? I’ve been meaning to speak with her.”

“Not at all, I think we’re pretty much done here.” Lewis looked at you to confirm you’d gotten all you need. Peter could tell you very much wanted to protest and he caught your subtle glance down at your notepad. It didn’t take a genius to know you were pondering what other questions you might’ve missed that could keep you from being alone with Peter, but it seemed you couldn’t find anything because you ended up giving Lewis a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for talking with me. I loved your photo, and congratulations again.”

“Thank you. can’t wait to read it,” Lewis replied, walking off with a wink in your direction.

You immediately looked down, refusing to meet Peter’s eyes after Lewis turned his back, instead taking a enormous interest in your shoes.

Peter cleared his throat, “Ace, can we talk?”

“Talk about what?” You finally looked up. Peter was fluent in all things Y/N, yet he knew that he didn’t need to be to see the unhappiness etched on your features. Your countenance was all hard lines and and furrowed brows and—were your eyes red? Had you been crying?

“Seriously Peter, what do you wanna talk about? The part where you entered into a competition you knew damn well I’d be covering, the part where you entered and won using a picture of me without telling me, the part where you tried to pick a fight with my boyfriend about it, or the part where you tried to get me to side with you?”

“Ace, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go down the way they did,” he tried helplessly. He didn’t want to argue with you, mostly because he’d never cared for it, even when you were together, but also because he didn’t want to feel any worse.

You sniffled and it felt like a kick to the gut. His thought from earlier resurfaced, and this time it was because he was completely fluent in you that he knew you hadn’t cried yet. Between whatever had happened when you’d left to find James and now, you’d gotten upset but you hadn’t cried and it was breaking him to see you trying so hard to keep that composure.

“Well they did,” you replied quietly, avoiding his gaze once more as you crossed your arms and looked to the side.

All Peter really wanted to do was pry your arms open, break the protective stance you’d taken up, and pull you into a bone-crushing hug that was much need by the both of you if you asked him. But he couldn’t do that. “I’m so sorry Ace. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done enough.” He wasn’t really expecting you to accept his offer, but the rejection still hurt.

“Well, what about with the article? How can I help with that?” He hadn’t let himself think it but he was excited about the extra time with you that came with first place. Maybe there was a silver lining in all this.

“Thanks but no.” Maybe not. “Actually, I—I should go.”

He wanted to speak up. He wanted to protest. He wanted you. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t have any of the things he wanted and the same thought kept floating through his head:

It’s all my fault.

The leaves rustled around you as you walked, the breeze carried with it a certain smell you could only find on the streets of New York during this time of year. You were on the brink of summer, the nature around you was peaking. The flowers were fully bloomed, the grass a delicious shade of green, birds chirped merrily, and you felt like shit.

You and James hadn’t talked since he’d left last night after the whole thing with Peter. You’d sent texts, called multiple times, left voicemails most of those times, you weren’t quite sure what else there was to do. You should probably go to his place. Maybe you should’ve even gone last night, but…you weren’t up for it yet. Not then and not now.

And then there was Peter.

Stupid, annoying, confusing, infuriating, Peter Parker.

Leaving last night was a stupid idea. You were already there, you should’ve asked him a few quick questions and got it over with. Now you’d have to make time to see him, and you weren’t sure how that would go over with James, article or not.

It had felt like your heart had short-circuited when you’d seen that photo on the wall. How long had he planned that? Obviously he was aware you were going to see it…what had he thought your reaction would be? What had he thought James’ reaction would be? He probably hadn’t thought of James at all, if you were being honest with yourself.

It still felt crazy to think he was back in the city. You’d seen the news reports of Spider-Man once again in New York. The first one had popped up the same day you’d ran into him. You caught yourself thinking about him often as you walked around campus, knowing he was there somewhere as well, walking those same grounds (or swinging maybe). It was weird. It was weird working with him on the paper and yet…there was something when you were with Peter, something you hadn’t felt in almost 2 years. Something a part of you knew, deep down, that you would never feel with anyone else.

“Funny seeing you here.” You’d know that voice absolutely anywhere. It was how you’d first discovered him as Spider-Man, after all.

You turned, coming face-to-face with Peter. He was in a dark grey t-shirt that fit him like a glove, dark washed jeans, and a beat up pair of converse he’d had since you’d known him. He looked every bit the boy you once knew, only less boy and more man now. That was another change you hadn’t gotten used to.

“Is it?” You asked, because something in his tone told you he’d expected to find you here.

“No,” he shook his head, “I remembered you always came for walks here when you were having a rough time and after everything that happened last night…lucky guess.”

Stupid, annoying, confusing, infuriating, Peter Parker.

Of course, he knew where to find you. “You always were a genius.” You said as you continued to walk slowly, Peter picking up pace to stride beside you.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, to figure you out. I know you Ace, no matter what, I’ll always know you.”

James doesn’t know you, he never would’ve known where to find you and you weren’t even sure he’d bother looking—

No, you had to stop that. Comparing the two of them wasn’t going to get you anywhere except all stuck in your head. Peter wasn’t yours, not anymore, no matter how well he knew you. He’d made sure of that.

“Well did you want something?” You weren’t exactly being pleasant, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t believe you’d apologized to him for being ‘snappy’ because right now all you could think was how much he deserved it.

He stopped his walking and grabbed your elbow, stopping you as well, “I know I was a dick last night, hell, I know I’ve been a dick to you far before last night, but I wanna make it up to you if you’ll let me. I care about you Ace. I always will.”

You didn’t care about me when you ghosted me, you didn’t care about me when you stood me up on winter break, you didn’t care about me when you left me and moved all the way to North Carolina—

That wasn’t going to do anything but make you miserable, and even more snappy. You sucked in a deep breath. He was here. Might as well get what you needed from him, right?

“I’m gonna need to ask you a few questions, y’know, just basic stuff. For the article.”

Peter grinned as if that was exactly what he was hoping you’d say. “Yeah, yeah sure. Of course, anything.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He was so ready and willing to give you everything you asked for, you were sure if you demanded he hand you his wallet, he wouldn’t object.

You pulled out your notepad and pen from your tote bag, extremely grateful you always kept them on hand. Flipping open to a new page, you clicked your pen, flipped your hair over your shoulder, and cleared your throat, “Social security number, date of birth, and the last thing you ate in full detail?”

Peter choked out a laugh, “Um, okay. I don’t have it memorized, August 10th 2001, and a medium toasted bagel with extra cream cheese, no seasoning.”

“No seasoning?” You asked, scrunching up your nose in disgust. “What, so you just like plain, boring bagels like an old man?”

“Hey,” he jumped to his own defense, “no hating on plain bagels! They’re like the vanilla ice cream of the bagel world, classic. You can never go wrong with a plain bagel. It can never be too much, it can never be too little. It’s just right.”

You snorted, “Alright, keep it in your pants Parker, I think I’ve heard enough. Plain bagels rock.”

“Damn right they do,” he deadpanned.

Chuckling, you remembered something. “Oh my god, are you talking about the bagels from the little cafe next to the library?”

“Yeah! You know it?”

“Know it? Oh my god I practically moved in there during finals week. Have you tried their muffins? You would love them. I know you always hated when muffins are baked too dry because—”

“It’s like eating sand.” You both said in unison. You stared up at him, but he was already looking at you. He had this look in his eyes that was so wholly Peter, you almost couldn’t stand it. It took everything in you but you broke eye contact, clearing your throat before you continued speaking, “So um—tell about your photograph. What was the inspiration behind it? Why did you choose that piece?”

“Photography is often about telling a story, or at least part of it, and this piece…it means a lot to me.” You held your breath as he spoke. “I love the feeling of the picture, or rather, pictures. My piece tells a story about nature. I tried to show the beauty in all aspects of it, and while doing that, I tried to tell a story of my own.”

You tried your hardest not too think to hard about what he was saying. Which was hard considering you were literally the fucking center of this piece he was speaking of. “Your piece was a very well laid-out collage, how long did it take you to put it together?”

“Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, a gesture so familiar it felt like your heart was crying, “well I joined pretty last minute, so about a week, but I was cramming the whole time.”

You went quiet for a few minutes before coming up with your next question. “Was that your first choice? The piece I mean.” It wasn’t really relevant to the article but…you were curious.

“I was going to do something with constellations,” he admitted.

Oh. Thank god he didn’t. You might’ve lost your mind.

“But those are harder to catch on camera, and I entered last minute,” he finished. “Plus,” he added, looking up at the clear blue morning sky, “my favorites are mostly visible during autumn.”

You felt like your heart was going to stop. So much history, so many unspoken things between the two of you. A part of you swore you could feel the tension wrapping itself around you and tightening, making it harder and harder to breathe the more time you spent with him.

You don’t know how long the two of you walked in silence before he finally spoke up again, his voice hoarser than it was a few moments ago. “I thought of you every night you know.” You didn’t need to ask to know what he was talking about. “You could see them more clearly over there, the stars, and I thought of you every time. Not just because of the stars but…they were just a bigger reminder.”

“Peter—”

“You never did tell me what you thought of it. The collage.”

You paused. You weren’t sure what you thought of it. Objectively it was a great piece, beautiful, maybe one of his best works. It had won first place for a reason. But how the hell were you supposed to be objective about any of this? “I—I think it was well-deserving of its award.”

He let out a small chuckle, “Seriously Ace? Save that kinda talk for the article, tell me the truth.”

You paused, trying to figure out the right words. Taking in a deep breath, you said, “It was beautiful Pete, even if it was a little weird just seeing myself like that. I think it might be one of the most creative and beautiful things you’ve created. I understand what you mean,” gentler now, “about the feelings and the story and everything…I think you portrayed that really well.”

It went quiet between the two of you again and you wondered if you shouldn’t have said that. You were about to make up another question but he beat you to it, “I kept trying to convince myself that I wasn’t coming back here for you, that I didn’t have any expectations for us and that this whole transfer was completely irrelevant to how we ended things but that isn’t true. And I always knew it deep down, but I hit me like a bag of bricks when I saw you again.”

This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be really saying all this, you had to be dreaming. You had a boyfriend, Peter broke up with you, he didn’t want you any more. Right? He couldn’t just come here after not talking to you for over a year and claim he transferred schools because of you. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to just dump all that on you.

“You were doing fine over there Peter, I heard everything. You had amazing grades, you were winning awards. You basically owned that school. So why’d you come back?”

“Okay, well you’re kinda over exaggerating. It wasn’t that great.”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes, “Don’t give me that bullshit, yeah it was. It was everything you were wishing it would be.”

“No it wasn’t!” He burst out, hands running through his hair. “I tried to enjoy it Ace, I really did. But I couldn’t.” He looked at you with a pained expression. “I should’ve been having the time of my life, because yeah, in theory, it was everything I could’ve wished for. But I couldn’t enjoy a goddamn thing knowing you were over here, living a whole life I wasn’t a part of. Being away from you killed me Ace, everything I said to you on graduation? That shit ripped my fucking heart out. I didn’t want it anymore than you did.”

Tears collected in his waterline and you felt a lump in your throat. Were you finally getting the explanation you’d dreamed and hoped for over and over? Why did you feel so nauseous? “I probably wanted it less, if I’m being honest,” he laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I hated it over there Ace, not a second went by where you weren’t on my mind, not a night went by where you weren’t in my dreams. I know this is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard but you need to believe me, I thought I was doing what was right that day on graduation. I really, truly thought that you would be happier if I did that. Not at first maybe, but eventually.” His voice got quieter and he sounded so raw, so emotional, you almost burst into sobs, “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted, I just want you to be happy Y/N.”

You swore you felt your heart split in half. Peter never called you by your name. Not since that night on your fire escape when you’d patched him up after a rough night of being Spider-Man and he first bestowed upon you his personal title, claiming that it ‘just suited you’.

You froze. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what you were feeling, but it was a lot. “I—I have,” you cleared your throat to keep your voice from breaking, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Ace, wait, please.”

But you didn’t. This time, you were the one who ran away.

‘seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything @lov3vivian

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