#because this feels like a wish granted in the worst way possible | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cdragons · 9 months ago

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

526 notes · View notes

discoscoob · 2 months ago

Text

FRIEND ZONE | Neo Anderson x Reader

Under the warm glow of a single lamp and the flickering light of the television, that neither of you are paying any attention to, Neo sits silently on the couch in your shared apartment. Curled up beside him, with your head buried against his chest, you sob against the worn fabric of his dark hoodie.

Neo feels his heart ache with a heaviness settling in his chest and one question clawing at his insides. How could anyone hurt you like this? You’re too kind, too precious, too… perfect to be inflicted with that kind of pain. How could someone take your love for granted, when he would do anything to have you look at him the way you look at those unworthy fools who only end up hurting you?

He shifts slightly, unsure how to hold you without holding too tightly. His arms feel clumsy in moments like this. He wants to cradle you, to keep you safe and protect you, but instead he just awkwardly rests his arm on your shoulder, the lightest touch - the only touch he dares.

You sniffle, lifting your head just enough to speak, the sight of your swollen and puffy eyes, agitated by your tears, provokes a coiling ache in the pit of Neo’s stomach.

“Why do I always pick the worst guys?” you wipe your tears with your sweater paws, your voice shaky and raw as you speak. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find someone who actually cares? Someone who will love me… for me.”

Neo’s throat tightens. Every time you say something like that, it’s like you’re throwing daggers straight at his heart, unaware how much he aches to unburden himself of his hidden feelings towards you. He wants to shout, I'm right here! He wants to pull you closer and tell you that you don't have to keep searching. He wants to tell you that you’ve already found the guy who would give anything to make you smile, to protect your heart like it's the most precious thing in the world— because to him, it is.

“He was a jerk, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s an idiot for not realising how lucky he was to have you.” Neo says softly, his fingers gently rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You deserve so much better than him. Someone who will cherish you and would do anything just to make you happy.”

“I don’t think such a guy exists, Neo.” your shaky laugh sounds bitter as you hopelessly admit your dwindling faith in love.

The words hit Neo in the chest like a hammer. His heart twists painfully, almost cruelly. It's not just what you said—it's the finality of it, the way you’re so convinced that no one would ever love you the way you deserve. No one, including him. It's like you don't see him at all. It makes him feel invisible.

I exist, his mind screams, but his mouth stays sealed.

“He does exist, Y/N. I promise, he does.” his strained voice answers around the lump in his throat that he painfully swallows. Neo hesitates, the truth on the tip of his tongue, held back by his own cowardice. The thought of losing you, your friendship, your laughter, your late-night talks — it paralyses him. He knows if he tells you the truth, everything could change. What if you pull away from him, the only person he's ever felt this connected to? What if he loses you? That scares him more than anything.

“Maybe… maybe he’s closer than you think.” Neo cautiously adds, his fragile heart anxiously teetering between the possibility that you might catch onto his subtle hint and realistically knowing that you won’t. His heart will fall either way because the possibility of you knowing will only lead to the possibility of your rejection.

“I wish more guys were like you, Neo. You’re the only one who never lets me down. I don’t know what I’d do without you… you’re like my rock.” Neo feels his chest clench uncomfortably at your words, because they’re agonisingly close to what he desperately wants to hear but almost cruelly they’re not meant in the way that he wishes. They’re never meant in the way that he wishes.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll never let you down.”

And he means it. Even if it means swallowing his own feelings. Even if it means watching you fall for someone else again and again. He will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and carefully put them back together with tender care. While neglecting his own broken heart. Because loving you is the easiest thing he's ever done. Telling you... that's the hardest.

#finished quicker than I expected #it’s just a short piece #keanu reeves #neo anderson #the matrix #neo anderson x reader #neo x reader #my fics

115 notes · View notes

depresssant · 5 months ago

Text

'geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see'

warning!!!! : yandere is a warning in itself 💀, yandere!geto, unrequited love, kidnapping extremely suggestive themes, idk what else 😭

also reposted bc i accidenly deleted the first one 😬

to say that geto suguru was helpless was an understatement.

he was at a lost, and it felt like the entire world was against him. so many conflicting thoughts battled with him day by day, and time came to a stop the second he watched that bullet go through riko's head. that helpless feeling of not being able to save what was dear to you... to be able to not do anything except for watch as something slipped out of his grasp⏤he felt like it was happening all over again.

dark thoughts⏤ones that only you seemed to get rid of⏤dropping him over the edge plagued him like a disease with every twist and turn. these were the dark thoughts that only you washed away with your warm touch and loving smile.

but now?

now you were cold and hostile.

all because of a damn rejection.

geto knew his decade long friendship with you would never be the same after that fateful night you confessed to him. that night⏤just a week and a half after riko's death. he had rejected you. geto was scared. what if you died just like riko? you were a sorcerer with threats that had you walking across the line of life and death. what if you, too, withered from his grasp?

but he supposed you already did.

bit by bit, you had started to ignore him. you were clearly distancing yourself. you knew he was going through internal struggles, and while you once would've been there right by his side, you weren't this time. you just... stop talking to him, acting like he was the plague, and a single look would kill you.

it killed him.

it killed geto to see you hurting because of him, and it hurt even more that he wasn't able to help. the raven haired man was bitter and angry at the time. he should've understood that you were just trying to give him space after realizing your confession wasn't thrown in at the best time. you were trying to help him in the best way possible while hurting yourself, and he was too fucking stupid to realize it.

geto had stormed into your dorm for an explanation as to why you were ignoring him. the worst fight of his life occurred that very night where you told him you never wanted to see him again. so he had granted you your wish.

thinking back at it, both of you were hurting. riko's death and the following had affected you just as much as it had affected geto, but he was too selfish to realize he wasn't alone. he was too conceited to realize that even when keeping your distance from him, you were still there for him. he was just too proud to reach out.

...

well... that would never happen again.

he furrowed his brows but he said nothing as he watched you struggle against the chains with a look of panic on your beautiful, beautiful, face. geto had plenty of time to reflect on his behavior⏤to sort through his feelings and plan, and now you were finally back in his arms.

with a sigh of relief, said arms pulled you into a suffocating hug. he held you so tightly he felt like his arms would cramp up, but that didn't matter. all he wanted to do was just crawl into your skin, become one with you, so you two would never apart again. he wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours until his own became bruised and swollen. he wanted to hold you like this for the rest of eternity because the sound of your heartbeat was the best type of music he had ever listened to.

this was wrong, some part in him screamed. holding you captive like this just for himself was immoral and evil, but... all for himself? geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see. those eyes... those eyes pulled him in like a moth to a flame, turning him into a person he never thought he'd become. but perhaps that was one of the million things he loved about you.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you hissed, pressed up against him, and geto felt completed. "you're insane! how the hell do you... do you⏤"

"i love you."

his hands were all over your body frantically, leaving a blazing trail of fire in every place that he caressed, and it was like he was trying to become one with you.

"... geto... what is this? why are you doing this?"

lavender eyes as alluring as a violent ocean rested on yours. "it's a form of acceptance. your confession? darling, i accept your love. i want your love... i need it."

"that was in high school! it was just a silly crush!" your brows furrowed in anger at first, but your expression crumbled. a face that you once adored now looked down at you with stinging eyes, fangs out and all.

"don't lie to me." geto grabbed a hold of your inner thighs, pushing you down onto the bed and nuzzling into your neck as if he would die if he didn't. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it. it was something you had been waiting for, for a very long time.

"we're meant for each other. you just need a little help understanding it."

his hold you was like a snake wrapping around its prey, constricting like a suffocating pillow until said prey finally fell limp. you were the prey and geto was the snake.. and, well...

he was threatening to swallow you whole.

#geto suguru #yandere geto #geto x reader #fem reader #female reader #yandere jjk #yandere #suggestive #😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼

166 notes · View notes

streets-in-paradise · 5 months ago

Text

In These Arms - Achilles x (Fem) Trojan!Reader

Warnings: Paris dumped the reader for Helen before she gets to meet Achilles. Includes break up angst + discussion of cheating.

Summary: Heartbroken and publicly humilliated after being abandoned by Paris, you seek peace in the promise of giving up on men without realizing the consequences of his actions would find you one last time.

Turned into a war prisoner and handled to the leader of the myrmidons, the unusual comfort of your master offers you a second chance.

Note: Inspired by two prompt lists by my dear friend @alysinwonderland-at-tea

Angst list - Prompt 4 " Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "

Fluff list - Prompt 2 "I think about you. Ceaselessly."

Tags: @lovelybaka

If everyone else in Troy had reasons for sorrow, on top of theirs you were the most damaged. The man you loved had returned home bringing someone else on his charriot. A stolen queen, woman you didn't have the slightest chance of comparing yourself to given the charm of her famously inhuman beauty. Even when Paris never made any expressed promises priorly, love confessions had once been mutually retributed and you believed in that.

You trusted him going against the advice of many people who attempted to warn you. His own brother had told you that no matter how much he spoke of it, Paris knew nothing about love. Blinded by your feelings, you didn't care, and it turned out the worst mistake of your life.

" Everyone told me you were going to break my heart. I should have listened to them. "

It took you all the strenght you had left not to cry, but at that moment of confrontation it was him the one sobbing in front of you.

" I never meant to! Dear, what I felt for you was real … But it wasn't true love, and I had no way to tell the difference untill I meet Helen. "

You couldn't believe the excuse that was being given to you.

" It was for me, Paris … and because of you I think I will never love again. I gave you everything, but turns out all I am wasn't enough. "

The assumption seemed to have offended him.

" You know I don't mean that! Please, try to understand! "

" What's left to understand? You betrayed your homeland and you betrayed me. You too deserve each other, indeed: a cheater for a cheater … Lovely couple to doom us all! And me the first."

He gave you a hurted look, as if after what he did he still cared for your forgiveness.

" My heart breaks for you, and i am ashamed of myself for the pain i'm causing you … But what can shame do to stop the intensity of love? I would have never accompanied Hector to Sparta if I would have known there I would fall like this for someone else. I couldn't return pretending nothing have happened, and making you live a lie would have been even more unfair than this. You deserve better, I still hold good feelings for you. I swear it on these arms that had comforted you countless times before. "

Paris attempted to pull you closer for a hug, but you stopped him ríght away.

" You humilliated me in front of the entire city! And how strongly I wish I could get granted the mercy of never seeing you again, but Troy is not big enough for that. Blessed is the king of Sparta, who gets the ríght of spreading hate without having to see his wife in the arms of other man every day! Me, instead? I get doomed to watch you smile happyly from afar in the balcony of the palace alongside your mistress for the rest of my life. Do you call that justice, Paris? If that is your mercy, I would rather get your hate. "

In the most twisted way possible, the gods granted at least one of your wishes.

Promising yourself to never love another man ever again after your first love had ended so bitterly, you took the first step into the only path allowed for a woman in your position. With the help of Briseis, who remained your friend despite what happened with her cousin, you seeked to get choosen to take vows in her temple. It was a quick way to restitute your honor in the public eye and be left alone as well. Unfortunately, you didn't get to even try on the priestess robes before the concecuencies of Paris' actions reached you once more.

Greek warriors brought to avenge the husband of his new lover destroyed the temple, killing the priests and taking you prisioner. You would never get to see the great city of Priam again and, despite the sorrow you felt when thinking of your family, that also caused you a dark sense of relief. Because of Paris you have lost everything, even the most bassic of goods such as your freedom. Only after loosing so much, of hitting rock bottom, you had a real chance to be free of him.

Enslaved to Achilles, but liberated from everything you were before, the worst part was having to stand the provocations. The myrmidon enjoyed himself attempting to seduce you, but wasn't forcing you into his bed, and that worked good enough for you in that context.

At one given time you did found his teasing going too far, and only then you became fully honest with him.

" Why did you choose to love a god? I think you will find the romance one sided. "

It made your blood boil, even if you could tell he spoke to you like that because he had no idea of who you were despite knowing your name. Achilles believed to be teasing a priestess and in the discoverment of his mistake you ended up laying eyes on him for longer than you should.

He was wearing the same type of long egyptian styled robes Paris would typically wear in the domestic environment, keeping arms and shoulders covered while fully exposing the torso. It was matched with the same sort of long skirt made of light fabrics opened at the side for more cassual expousure. You could vividly remember he wore a black outfit almost identical to that one during the first night you made love.

And yet, that man looked nothing like him. His sun kissed skin and the sculpted muscles were as contrasting as his blond hair and blue eyes.

" I have choosen nothing, fate forced me to seek shelter in the cult of Apollo after being abandoned by the love of my life. I told myself that, if i could never love again, I could at least give my devotion to the regent god of my city. Because of you I never got to become a priestess, so now i'm a double spoil: rejected for marriage and dragged out of the temple. "

Although standing ríght in front of you, disbelief faded some of the cockiness.

" You won't be rejected here, that's a promise. I had a minor altercate with Ajax because we found you so pretty we both wanted to keep you."

He sat on the ground ríght next to you and observed you with tenderness before taunting you once more.

" Did I ruin your life, or arrived just in time to restaure your faith in men? I don't understand how a girl like you could think of running to hide inside a temple instead of getting herself a better man. "

You answered with the truth, but carefully crafting enough disdain.

" There was nothing I could have done to keep him with me when the competition was the most beautifull woman in the world. The majority of men would have done the same, and that's why I have choosen not to believe in any other ever again. "

Achilles wasn't expecting to find out he was struggling for the attention of the woman that the trojan prince had left behind in his pursuement of the spartan queen.

" Will all mankind pay for the crimes of Paris? That bastard is not even a man. You are so much better without him, consider that perhaps the queen has made you a favor. If he is your reason to give up on men, I have to say it's quite offensive for the rest of us. "

You could tell where his speech was coming and you tried to stop him.

" You would have given me to Ajax if Briseis wouldn't have ran away. I didn't left with her only because I have nothing left to live for. Living in Troy is unbereable for me, but at least here I don't have to worry about seeing them and that's the only perk i expect. Don't try to pretend you could be any different, specially when I'm here because you couldn't find any other more beautifull slave girl to claim yours. "

His hand was then on your face, lifting up your chin so your eyes won't leave his as his thumb caressed your lips.

" I think of you, ceaselessly. If there is any daughter of trojan judged more beautifull than you, I don't need to know and I don't care, because I want you over any other. "

Your hand followed his and pulled down, rejecting his contact.

" Sweet lies won't win me over, not this time. "

It frustrated him, but wouldn't make him desist.

" Would you believe me if I bring you his head on a spear? I can make him cry a painfull death to pay for your tears. Whatever vengeance Menelaus dreams of would be called mercy compared to what I can do to that trojan bastard in your name."

The strange rush of passionate defense encouraged you to reveal yourself.

" Revenge is not on my interest, all I want is to forget. Can you make me stop thinking of the first man who made my heart beat? The moments when we were happy still haunt me like a disease of the spirit, but then I remember someone else occupies my place now and it's like my heart gets eaten raw inside my chest. Pain and regret is all I have for you, son of Peleus. Paris drained me of anything else. "

Achilles got rid of his black robe and wrapped your shoulders with it.

" One night in my arms is all i think that would take me to vanish the memory of that fool from your mind. You haven't yet been loved by a real man: whatever he gave you would taste like few once you would have tasted me."

The fabric was still warm from the contact with his skin and he was holding both sides of it on top of your chest in an attempt of wrapping you tighter.

You didn't try to escape him that time and he used the new proximity in his advantage to trap you in his strong grip, pushing your body against his.

" In this arms you will find happiness again, if you allow me to show you how good I can do just for you. "

#troy 2004 #troy #paris of troy #achilles #paris of troy x reader #achilles x reader #orlando bloom #brad pitt #orlando bloom x reader #brad pitt x reader

200 notes · View notes

420technoblazeit · 3 months ago

Note

I feel like the way Peri deals with his godkid makes a lot more sense when you remember that A) the fairy baby ban doesn't seem to have been lifted, so he wouldn't have any real interactions with people significantly younger than him, and B) he was mentored by Jorgen.

Jorgen who doesn't think that emotional connections with your godkid are important for godparenting. And also literally isn't allowed to have godchildren anymore because he always terrified them and pushed the kids into asking for more wishes that Jorgen wanted to grant, instead of voicing what they actually wanted. Love the guy but how is he still in charge of all fairy godparents AND their education. Like Cosmo and Wanda didn't even know Peri was on track to be a godparent, so clearly they weren't there to balance that education out. What Dev needs doesn't seem to be something they're taught to provide, and it has to be picked up via experience. Which makes Peri, fresh out of university, the worst possible choice in that sense.

IS JORGEN ACTUALLY IN CHARGE OF TRAINING FAIRIES god that's so fuckign funny i forgot about that. im abt to von strangle his ass. kinda explains peri's insistence on following the rules too

#fop #fairly oddparents #a new wish #peri #jorgen von strangle

143 notes · View notes

juicybeetz · 15 days ago

Text

It pains me to see people calling Beetlejuice the worst of the worst things/him being a creepo whenever they talk about his relationship with Lydia in the original movie.

Lydia is like the one female character in the film that Beetlejuice doesn’t outwardly objectify. He kisses Barbara, he winds himself in snake form between Delia’s legs, he gropes that lady in the waiting room… if anything, he’s incredibly non-sexual towards Lydia. He does mention feeling “anxious” after mentioning “Edgar Allen Poe’s daughter” to Barbara, but in the context of the movie I always chalked it up less to him being sexually attracted to Lydia and more to the adrenaline rush he got after waiting so long to finally scare some humans… that energy’s gotta go somewhere! 😆

Even in the scene where he meets Lydia, he’s initially illuminated with the red light of the Inferno Room, but one he uncovers his eyes and leans forward to look at her, the light becomes white. I feel that it’s a clear indication that he’s not interested in her in that way. It’s deeper than that. I think he’s just interested in the fact that she’s a living being so in tune with the dead that she can see him without him having to be summoned, and he’s completely infatuated with that. Smitten, even.

You could also argue that his “marriage” towards her isn’t to get into her pants but is instead a two fold thing: to get him out of the world of the dead but to allow her to enter the world of the dead. Because she wanted it! She told him so earlier in the film! He’s basically granting her wish (in the spookiest way possible that also benefits him, but still). Like, yeah, okay, the Maitlands rightly save Lydia from the marriage and she’s better off for it, but I think in a weird twisted way, Beetlejuice at that point is endeared to her. If the sequel indicates anything, he straightens himself out, starts a business, perhaps even helps with Lydia’s show… he becomes soft because of her.

I’m sure the Maitlands reinforced just how terrible Beetlejuice was to Lydia as she grew up around them, but I wonder if, with her adult eyes, and if there was a third movie (which there should be UGH TIM you and your cliffhanger!) she could understand how truly special he thinks she is. It’s just so clear to me and I don’t know how it isn’t that way to others.

#this is poorly written and I didn’t really proofread it so sorrryyyy #but yes these are my opinions and feel free to agree or disagree #beetlejuice #lydia deetz #beetlebabes #just….. thoughts lol

74 notes · View notes

monarcascension · 1 year ago

Text

wicked games | c.s

summary: He led you on for years. The one man you saw yourself with, could never give you what you so desperately craved. Love. After the devastation, you finally mustered up the courage to cut all ties with him for good and move on. At least… you tried to, until he manages to pull you right back in again.

pairings : choi san x fem!reader

tags: SMUT WARNING , MINORS DNI — vulgar language, infidelity, angst, some fluff, teasing, sensual language, unprotected sex, situationship, asphyxiation +♡

♬ — ACT A FOOL x LYRICA ANDERSON

word count: 11.3K

(Too damn long + im so sorry yall, but i hope you enjoy the story still hopefully ! lmaoooo 🩶 )

—

November 24th, 2019

San usually doesn’t ignore your calls like this.

Your worry was starting to grow with each flight of stairs that you ascended to reach his apartment. You sent message after message with no response, giving leeway to the most irrational part of you to think of the worst possible case. You stopped for a moment and opened your chat rooms again, finding Yunho, his roommate in your contacts and shooting him a quick text asking if either of them were home.

Of course San would do something like this after just asking you the night before to go on a date with him and standing you up.

Asshole. You asked yourself countless times why you still put up with him, but you fell short of an educated answer. You just loved him and that was enough of a reason for you. However, you were frustrated and freeing and had half a mind to turn around and leave, but your phone suddenly rang with a new notification.

Yunho had answered you. He said that he wasn’t home, but San was. He had talked to him just an hour ago before you arrived in the area. He said it was possible that he could be playing video games with his headset on and doesn’t hear his phone going off. He told you not to worry about him too much.

Easy for you to say..

The nagging feeling in your chest slowly began to subside at his response. Yunho knew you long enough to know that you loved to worry about San even if unwarranted. He also knew that you were in love with him before you did. Yunho was always present and knowing of everything without actually witnessing it himself. Sometimes his assuring and know-it-all behavior pissed you off; mainly because you wish you had that much confidence in everything around you. You envied him in more ways than one.

정윤호

81024# is the code for the key lock, you can let yourself in. If he is playing video games he probably cant hear you ringing the doorbell either. Dont steal anything ;)))

You laughed a little harder at that than you intended to. Why was he always so unserious about everything? You would question him on his behavioral tactics later, all you wanted to do was get out of the petrifying cold and be with San. So, you moved quickly– scared that if you stayed in one place for too long your boots would freeze to the concrete beneath your feet. You quickly shot Yunho another text, thanking him for his help.

Shuffling up the last flight of stairs, you grounded yourself on the platform and rounded the corner that led to the first set of apartments on the floor. You continued forward until you came to the eighth door. Your ears perked at the sound of movement inside.

And then a voice. And another.

Unfortunately, it was too muffled for you to pick up anything else, and you assumed that he had company over. More than likely Wooyoung. Maybe Yunho didn’t know he was coming?

Referring to the code that he had granted you, you slid up on the keypad and punched in the digits. A short and kind of cute chime sounded from the mechanism telling you that you put in the right code and the door buzzed, undoing whatever security measurements that came with the system and clicked open. You made your way inside, being welcomed to the familiar, manly, but still good scent of their home. The warmth from the heater hit you and you never accounted for how much you desired to be hot for once.

You pulled your boots off along with your coat before wandering into the rest of the apartment. Peeking your head into the living area just around the corner from the entrance where you knew their joint gaming console was. The television was still on and playing a show loudly rather than a game, which explains the voices you heard from outside, but he was nowhere in sight. Neither was Wooyoung like you expected.

He must be in his room. You thought.

As many times as you have been to his place and even spent nights here, you still felt like you were intruding– that eerie feeling telling you that you shouldn’t be here was looming over your gut, but you continued anyway.

“San?” You called out instinctively as you neared his bedroom. The door was closed, so you placed your hand on the door knob and pushed it open. The worst possible case was that he was naked, which you didn’t mind as you’ve seen many parts of each other anyway. “I’ve been trying to call you, but you didn’t-”

You weren’t sure what look you had on your face, but you were more than sure that it resembled exactly what you were feeling on the inside. Heartbreak. Your eyes went wide and your lips parted in shock at the sight of Choi San, the man you loved more than anything, scrambling from underneath a naked girl. A girl that wasn’t you. But it wasn’t some random girl. No. That dark hair, that disintegrating butterfly tattoo on the back of her shoulder. You knew her.

Your skin glossed over with a chill. And your heart broke into a million pieces.

It was Veronica. Your best friend. At least that’s what you thought until now.

“Jesus… What the hell?! What are you doing here?” Panic was obvious in San’s voice as he sat up in the bed, looking just as frightened and bewildered as you were. He climbed out of the bed and quickly pulled on his boxers.

“You…Are you serious?” There was nothing in you that tried to maintain composure as everything you were feeling began to bubble to the surface and you let it come out. “What the fuck are you doing here, V??”

“How the hell did she even get in here??” She barely even acknowledged you. Just looked to him like a savior of some sort. And that pissed you off even more.

San took a step towards you and you took two steps back. “Look, I can explain.”

You put your hand up to him to stop him from speaking. “Don’t…talk to me. You don't get to speak to me right now.”

“San, can you just make her leave? She’s being a nuisance.”

“Hey, stop. Just let me handle this.” San corrected her and she shifted in place, gripping the covers that were keeping her breasts from spilling out into the open.

Meanwhile, you shot daggers towards Veronica at her words. Your brows furrowed across your forehead, possibly leaving a mark from the tension that you could feel between the bridge of your nose. Your lip twitched with the want to say so many things, but no words were strong enough to show what you were really feeling. Rage.

You looked eagerly around the room for something. All you needed was something. Anything. That’s when your eyes locked onto it. A medium sized glass cup sat dormant on his computer desk, and with the quickness of a quality athletic star as well as the strength of one, you grabbed the glass and hurled it in Veronica’s direction before San could grab and stop you. She let out an ear-jerking screech and covered her head with her hands before the harsh sound of the glass shattering filled the room and silenced everyone in it. You couldn’t control yourself at that moment. You missed her by a few inches as the glass impacted with the wall just above the headboard, sending shards falling on the sheets and her. Part of you wanted it to hit her. You wanted her to hurt like you were hurting, but it still wasn’t enough to quell your anger.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re mental.” Veronica snapped.

“Seriously?!” San grabbed your arms, trying to push you back to get you out of the vicinity of Veronica. “You need to calm down.”

You pressed your hands to his bare chest and pushed him back off of you. “Don’t fucking touch me! Calm down?” You focused your gaze back on her. “You knew. You knew about us the whole time! And you do this?”

“Obviously, there wasn’t an “us” between you if he’s fucking me and not you. Right?” She spoke with such a venom lining her words and they were aimed directly at your heart. “Me and Jamie warned you. You didn’t listen.”

“I should have known from the beginning that you were a grimey bitch. You’d open your legs for anybody that so much as blinks at you.” You snapped back.

“How do you think that I got in his bed then?”

You were going to kill her. You felt like crying right there, but your blood was already boiling in a crimson pot. It not only pained you to hear those words from someone you once considered a friend, but from someone who also knew every single thing that happened between you and San. Every tear you cried was on her shoulder, every message of happiness and celebration you sent her, she sent you her congratulations. She was there for it all.

And she betrayed you. He betrayed you.

“I can’t fucking believe you…both of you.” You scoffed, backing away from San with weak and rigid steps. “You two deserve each other.”

You attempted to turn and walk out, but he grabbed your arm to stop you. “God, don’t be like that.” San coaxed. “This didn’t mean anything.”

He always tries explaining everything away, making everything seem smaller than what it was. Acting as if none of this was a big deal, but he just couldn’t see the pain in your eyes that was hiding behind the blind rage. You glanced down at his hand for a second and then back up to him, yanking your hand away without another thought.

“I don’t give a fuck what it meant. Whatever it is…that I thought we had? It’s over. Keep her for all I care, just don’t talk to me ever again. In fact, forget I exist–forget that we ever existed.” Those were possibly the coldest words that you have ever said to him. It hurt you to even say them, and you could see the sly grin that was on his face soon falter.

“You’re not serious. Come on, we can fix this. She doesn’t mean anything to me. You do.”

“Godd! You’re so full of shit, San! She meant something if it was enough to risk-.” Your eyes burned through him like you had laser vision. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to tear him down just like he did you over the years. “Forget it.” He just couldn’t know that your heart was breaking into pieces. “And if I really meant something to you, you wouldn’t have fucked my best friend behind my back. I’m done. We’re done.”

He had heard you say that many times before, but now he realized you were serious.

You stomped out of the room, making a b-line for the front door. Quickly stuffing your feet back into your boots and grabbing your coat from the rack, you placed your hand on the door knob and was just about to crank it to leave when you heard San’s voice crowing and breaking from the same spot where you had just left him.

“Please, let’s just talk about this. I- I don’t want you to go. I-” He paused. “I love you.”

You thought when you heard those words from him for the first time, that it would light a fire in your stomach. You would smile like an idiot and throw yourself into his arms like a love sick puppy. It was everything you ever wanted to hear him say, but hearing them now? Like this, when you were on the verge of breaking down? All it did was burn a hole through your heart, severing the last bit of forgiveness you could ever give him– along with whatever love that remained.

A singular tear fell from your eyes but was absorbed by the thick fur of your coat. You didn’t even bother to look at him. If he saw you cry, it would give him the satisfaction of your sadness. It would tell him that you still cared. That you still could possibly love him despite what he had just done to you. That there was still a chance at redemption. And you didn’t want to care about him anymore. So from this moment, you decided to hate him. For good.

You took a deep breath. Letting that numbness wash over your heart. And with the last inkling of strength in your voice, you spoke to him one final time and meant it.

“Fuck you, San.”

계속하다

Present Day

Those were the last words you ever uttered to him since your relationship ended.

Calling it a “relationship” is a bit of a stretch though, it could better be compared to Hell on Earth. An excruciatingly ugly, painful, heartbreaking, love story that went up in flames once the final straw had been broken. The thought of it filled you with agony and it felt as if the pain would be eternal, which is why you stopped thinking about it completely. But for some reason it resurfaced.

For whatever grudge the universe had against you for whatever reason, the thought of what you once had, had oddly brought you… comfort. If that was the right term to use. It felt familiar even with the blight it left on your heart. That’s how he was, Choi San— albeit possibly your worst decision in a man at the time— he had a way of conflicting every emotion and thought you had just by saying a few simple words. He was a smooth talker, you see. Blessed and born with a silver tongue and a kindness that made his every transgression against you seem minute (my-nute).

He always had a knack of luring you right back into his trap whenever you attempted to free yourself. His smile brought you to the closest feeling of love that he would permit you to have, and his kisses made you fall even harder. If he cut you by his bastard-like actions, he would heal you with his words, or by fucking you so good that you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place. Until he does it again and the cycle continues.

It was all a part of his little game and you were too in deep not to play.

Each night with him that you did not spend yelling and throwing tantrums, you would lay in his arms and let the calm sweep you into a deep slumber. When you shut your eyes all you could see were the same blaring red lights that flashed constantly behind your eyelids. They were your warning. A wailing and urgent siren that was almost deafening to your ears, screaming for you to get away while you were ahead. Every neuron in your brain fired off in an attempt to make you aware of the damage that was set to ensue if you continued this way with him.

You never listened.

That was probably the most justifiable reason behind all of your sleepless nights. Maybe if you had heeded those warnings, and listened to your first mind back then to leave him before you gave him a piece of yourself , you could have been saved from the intense heartbreak later and the aftermath of pain that followed in his wake.

You hated him, but for some reason unbeknownst to you, you still mourned your separation.

He was your first love after all.

You built a fantasy world around your heart to protect it from the truth of who he really was. It was the only solace and peace that you could maintain by giving yourself a place to hide when false hope seeped in. The hope that he would love you back. It kept you content with your situation and never allowed you to think any deeper about a future with him until you stopped hoping completely.

You tried your hardest to forget every moment he made you smile, the softness of his fingers when he touched your most delicate places, the way his lips felt on your flesh, and every warm feeling that resembled even an ounce of love or admiration that you had for him. You tried to forget it all. You wanted to. You needed to. And now the only memories that remained were all filled with regret, anger, sadness, and hate.

Although it has been four years since you have felt that way, those feelings still linger even now, trickling into your present no matter how hard you tried to keep them in the past.

“Soooooo…the company dinner-” Yunho tried the topic again, but you quickly shut him down.

“Hell no.” You didn’t even have to look at him when you said it, just continued to work on the stove, stirring around the ramyeon that would be your lunch.

Yunho let out an egregiously loud, and seemingly frustrated groan. “Dude, you promised.”

You set down your cooking utensil next to the pot and cranked down the heat before turning to face him at the kitchen island where he sat across from you. “Yeah, I did! That was before you so graciously informed me that that evil bitch would be there.”

“I didn’t know that she was the event coordinator this time. The other one got booted off at the last minute, Jamie was the one that told me, and told me to tell you as soon as possible.” He explained, mentioning your— mentionably more loyal— other best friend of almost ten years, Jamie, moving his hands around so wildly while he spoke that it was hard for you to focus on him.

“Look, I’m grateful that you gave me a heads up!”

“Thank you for some recognition! Jamie and I work hard for you.” He said.

There he goes being unserious again. You sighed softly. “But that’s where it stops. I think if I get within ten feet of her I may actually kill her.”

“You tried that once, remember? Didn’t really work out.” Yunho grabbed the glass of wine sitting in front of him and took a sip of it.

Low blow. You flicked him off for his comment, visibly irritated at what he said, but all he did was laugh.

Yunho cocked his head to the side, leaned forward on the marble surface of the kitchen island and stared up at you with the most aggravatingly cute smile. “Did you know that you look even prettier when you’re pissed off at me?”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the stove. “You’re annoying..”

“You love me for it.” He cooed.

“Debatable topic at best.” You said flatly, moving over to the counter to chop up the rest of the meat slices to mix into the broth.

The chair scraped across the tile. Heavy footfalls began to round the corner of the kitchen island, leaving your mind to the imagination of where Yunho was going as you focused on your task in the kitchen. The muscles in your back tensed when you felt a sudden weight pressed against it. Long, strong arms stretched out beside you; his hands found purchase on the counter and trapped you against it as your breath hitched at his closeness. Yunho cleared you in height alone, standing at a whopping 6’3 compared to you. You weren’t short yourself, but anybody that stood next to him would look like an ant. His presence alone was dominating and commanding and suddenly you felt much less brave than you did 3 seconds prior.

You stopped cutting and slightly turned your head towards him. His lips were pursed against your ear and you were scared about what would follow after.

His breath was cool and it made the hairs on your neck stand on end when he whispered, “I don’t think it’s that debatable..”

He placed a kiss on your earlobe. Another on your jaw. Your neck, canvassing the beautiful tone of your skin. He pressed his pillowy pair against your shoulder and it caused you to shiver. You could feel the smile pulling at his lips at your reaction.

“Yunho..you know we can’t. Jamie will be home soon.” You said almost breathlessly. The warmth radiating from his body also made you hot. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“You even say my name pretty. How am I supposed to resist you if you talk like that?” His voice was deep and sultry, housing a slight grumble at the end of every word.

“What if Jamie-“

“I don’t care about Jamie. I care about you.” Yunho snaked his arms around your waist and spins you around to face him.

Jamie would probably kill you if she found out since Yunho was just as much her best friend as he was yours. Besides, I doubt she would want to know that the two of you ever had sex in the first place or how you even got there to begin with.

When you ended things with San, you also tried to cut every piece of him out of your life entirely. Including Yunho. Even though the two of you were close, he was even closer with San than you were. You didn’t need to have that constant reminder of the man that broke your heart, so you stopped talking to Yunho as well as his friend group entirely—etching that part of your life out of your head for good. However, Yunho didn’t take that too lightly.

A little bit after the incident one night, while you were crying your eyes out on the couch in the very apartment that you stood in, there was a resounding knock at the door. Thinking it was Jamie, your roommate, who left her key again, you wiped your tears and quickly shuffled to let her in. To your surprise as well as your dismay, it wasn’t the olive toned ginger you had come to spend your teenage years with, but instead Jeong Yunho in all of his terrible timing glory.

You tried to close the door on him and tell him to leave, but he stopped you. Insisted that he wanted to merely check on you since it had been so long since you spoke. He then spilled that Jamie knew you needed a friend and she wouldn’t be home for another two days, so she asked him to come see you. As much as you wanted to yell at her, you knew her heart was in the right place.

You weren’t sure how things got to where they did, but you remembered that he apologized over and over again for letting him hurt you and that he had no idea about him and Veronica. He said they even got into a fight about it and hadn’t seen San since that night. Him telling you that opened the floodgates and you found yourself pouring everything you kept inside out onto his shoulder. He held you with his fingers hooked into your hair and pressing you even deeper into his shoulder for you to cry. He said it was okay and he understood. He pulled you off of his shoulder and cupped your face with his hands, wiping away the neverending flow of your burning tears with his thumbs. Yunho called you beautiful. He hated to see you cry so he smiled and the sight alone unthawed the iceberg that you had locked around it. One thing led to another… and well.

He kissed you. You didn’t stop him. Nor did you want to. You needed him more in that moment than you ever had since you met.

You tried many times to end whatever it was between you countless because of your guilt, but Yunho never wanted to.

“Let’s be guilty together.” Is what he would say to you.

That’s how all of this mess started. Ever since then, it’s been an unspoken thing. There was no commitment there, but rather a comfort. Something only the two of you understood. You felt horrible, but at the same time it was just nice having someone. He was not yours and you weren’t his, but when you were together it was just you two. No expectations. Maybe it made you a hypocrite, but you stopped caring a long time ago.

For the first time you looked into his eyes and saw the hunger lying in his hues. He scoured every inch of your face, but danced around the lining of your lips as if he could taste them just by looking at them.

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you pulled yourself in closer to him and smiled, lowering your voice to speak as if it weren’t only the two of you in here. “If I knew you were going to be this much trouble, I would have left you outside that night.”

Yunho moved in even closer, so that you could feel his breath brushing across your lips. “Well, since you didn’t, now I can do this.”

His lips collided against yours tenderly. They tasted just as sweet as they were the last time you kissed him, hinting at a slight berry flavor from the chapstick he frequently wore. They felt smooth and delicate against your own. Yunho guided you through the kiss and you followed. The kiss was gentle but firm, like he was trying to let you know that he meant every single word he has ever said to you.

His arms tightened around your waist more, tugging you closer to him so that your bodies were pressed against the other. The two of you were perfectly in sync as you explored each other’s mouths. Your fingers tangled into his thick blonde hair before dropping to his chest, fisting the white shirt he had on. With soft exasperated sighs in between each motion of your lips, Yunho dipped his hands down from your waist and around to your ass, grabbing almost all of you with both of his massive palms. You chuckled softly against him and he did the same.

Then you heard a clunking sound. Something similar to a chime. The door. A Lock. Keys. Oh God. Jamie. She’s home. The cute moment was ruined by the two of you scrambling to look as unsuspecting as possible.

“I’m baaaaaaaack!” Jamie sang out in an awful tune, sending goosebumps across your arms. Eerie.

You cleared your throat and continued cooking your lunch. Yunho acted as if he was rummaging the cabinets for snacks as your best friend came galloping into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re here. Why?” Her words were laced with disappointment and you knew she was referring to Yunho.

“Ouch. Why did you say it like that? Am I not welcome?”

“You are! It’s just.. you’re a still man. I’m just shocked at your presence.” Jamie said. “Anyway! I come bearing giftsss!”

“What’d you get me?” Yunho asked, suggestively.

“Hopefully out of my house soon.” Jamie bit back.

You chortled, but tried to hide it when you felt Yunho staring daggers into the back of your head. You quickly finished cutting up the meat and added it to the broth to simmer, placing the lid overtop and turning to Jamie finally.

“You went shopping?” You asked her curious about what she brought.

“Of course I went shopping! You know what tonight is.” She sounded more ecstatic about it then you thought she would.

“Ohhh about that.” Yunho scratches the back of his head nervously. “I don’t think she’s going.”

“WHAT?” Jamie exclaims, looking expectantly between the two of you for an answer. “Why isn’t she going? Why aren’t you going? Are you sick? Pregnant?”

“Pregnant??” You questioned.

“Pregnant?!” Yunho also questioned, seemingly more shocked that it could even be an option. The two of you nervously looked at each other.

“I’m asking you!”

You waved her off. “No! God no. Veronica.”

“Oh.” Jamie untensed and set down the bags she brought in down onto the chairs in front of her. “That bitch. I forgot about her.”

“Exactly my point. I can’t be trusted around her.” You tried to plead to Jamie, hoping that she would understand.

“Good, you won't be around her. You’ll be around us. You’re going. I’m not letting that skank control your life anymore.”

“She doesn’t!”

“If you wont go somewhere because of someone they control your life. Look, I know you hate her. Hell, I hate her too for what she did to you but I can’t let you stay cooped up in the house all the time just because there’s a possibility that you might run into her again. Tonight will be fine, I promise.”

You appreciated Jamie for trying to be such an assuring force in your life amongst all the uncertainty surrounding you. She had a knack for pushing you out of your comfort level, and then it may appear to be forceful to some. Jamie never did anything unless it was with love.

“Hey, we won’t let anything happen tonight. I’ll even stay on Veronica watch if it’ll make you more comfortable.” Yunho piped up, leaning against the counter as he delved into whatever odd snack he actually managed to find in the cabinets.

“We’ll take care of you. It’ll be fine. Plus, I also spent $100 on buying a dress for you and it’s really freaking cute so if you don’t put it on, I will. But I’d rather see you in it.” Jamie picked up one of the fancy looking shopping bags, with a designer brand you had never heard of, and held it out to you expectantly.

You looked between Yunho and Jamie and their happy and hopeful stares caused you to cave instantly. “Fine… I’ll go.”

계속하다

This was the worst decision you ever made. Why were you here? The fabric from your dress was tightening around you with every movement you made, making the long leg slit that was cut into it ride a little further up your thigh than you were hoping it would. The heels you wore were comfortable, but you only wore these things on occasion and still weren’t the best at walking in them especially for long periods of time. And these company dinners are always long.

Yunho was the first to get out of the car, and in a gentlemanly manner he walked around to your side and opened the door.

“My lady.” He bowed before you and offered you his hand to help you out. The gesture brightened your smile and you accepted, feeling much like a princess on the way to a ball.

He assisted Jamie out as well and tossed the keys to the valet who dutifully took his car for him.

The place was flooded with people. Rich people mainly, stepping out of luxury cars and limousines. Almost all of them had a partner that they would ascend the stairs with— some were older men in their sixties with women possibly in their early thirties . Gross. You thought to yourself, but who were you to judge? Although, you were.

You looked to Jamie who was just more excited to go in as anybody else. Her dress was black, strapless and shimmery compared to your steel gray silk. Her hair was curled like a supermodel from the 1950’s, falling over the bareness of her shoulder more on one side than the other. Your hair was in coils, falling down the length of your back. Yunho wore a black tuxedo as well, complimenting the both of you, but his collar was slightly undone without a tie and opened up a V down to his chest where the only thing you could see was a gold chain that he wore fitted around his collarbone. He stepped in between the both you and Jamie and extended his winged arm on both sides for the two of you to take, which you did.

“How does it feel being my dates for tonight?” He chimed, sounding just as much of a man as he had always been. You rolled your eyes, and Jamie physically hurled.

“Is it too late to ask the valet to bring the car back?” Jamie mused.

“Considering that I’m your ride for the night. I would have left the sly comments at the apartment.” Jamie laughed at Yunho’s words and you did too, feeling more loose and less anxious than you did moments before when you stepped out of the car.

The three of you walked up the stairs together, arm in arm, following the rest of the crowd into the party. You felt a tug on your arm and suddenly a Yunho parked right beside your ear. You stiffened immediately.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He whispered.

His compliment made you hot under the collar, if you had one to get hot under, sending a spark up your spine. You cleared your throat and smiled up at the giant figure beside you. “You look handsome yourself. You clean up nice.”

“I try my best. If I would have known you would be looking like this tonight, I would have tried harder.”

Yunho chooses the worst times to flirt with you. Around all of these people and Jamie being right there, you grew more and more flustered as the conversation went on. He escorted you successfully into the party— giving you a full view of the large dining hall. Not only was it the biggest hall you had ever seen, it was also a ballroom. Tables surrounded the extremely glossy floor that was covered with a sea of people engaged in conversation. Chatter and obtuse laughter filled your ears, but it was so hard to focus on one conversation with how many people it was. Servers walked through the crowd with refreshments and offered the three of you one upon entry. You all took it and thanked him.

“I’m going to go mingle a bit and see if I can find the guys. Don’t have too much fun without me.” Yunho said, pulling himself free from the two of you, he slipped into the crowd but not without rubbing the back of his hand across your backside.

Yunho would be the death of you.

You and Jamie were left to your own devices now and there was no way you were going anywhere without her. You didn’t know anybody here except her and Yunho, so you latched yourself to her side.

“Oh! Oh, that’s the chairman I was talking to you about right there. Come on.” She motioned off to a group of people standing in a circle, laughing about something amongst each other. She pointed to an older guy, stout, but still kind of handsome? His hair was going gray, but still had streaks of black in it and he was dressed to the nines in a bright white suit. Bold.

Jamie clasped her arm around yours and dragged you over to his direction. She called out to the chairman who recognized his name, and Jamie bowed politely to greet him. He seemingly knew her very well because he greeted her by name, welcoming the two of you into the conversation. Jamie introduced you to him and you bowed as well, bowing to the others who you were amongst since they also looked like important people but you only stood there awkwardly. You had no idea what they were discussing, so you were there as moral support for Jamie.

Instead you looked out at the rest of the crowd and all of the different people in it. It was fascinating how many rich people were all in one room— hell you didn’t know this many of them existed. The ballroom itself was currently the most powerful place on earth. There were old men, young men, young women, old women. So many different types of people dressed in their best. You wondered where Yunho was and wanted to see if you could find him, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have found his friends. Your curiosity got the best of you so you stared for a little longer to see if you saw them by chance. And you did, knowing that they were the only people in here with those hair colors. Most of them had their backs to you, so you could only tell based on that alone, who was who. Seonghwa with his black hair was standing beside Wooyoung and Maddox, who you had only met once or twice, Yeosang with his dark hair on the other side of him, and Hongjoong with his light brown was next to Jongho who stood in the middle of Mingi and…

Silence fell over you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of them. Off of him. No Yunho in sightz Only San. Veronica. Together. You didn’t realize how long you had to be looking at him because by some miracle he noticed that someone was staring straight into the side of his head. He suddenly turned and looked directly at you. His shock was just as apparent as yours, and you lost your footing for a second, stumbling into Jamie who was beside you. The chairman and the others turned to you with concern.

“Whoa, Are you okay?” Jamie asked, gripping your arms to hold you upright. “What happened?”

“I-I” You stammered.

Jamie cleared her throat and bowed to the Chairman. “Excuse us for a moment.”

She took you out of the circle and placed a hand on your shoulder. “What’s going on? Are your shoes hurting you? Are you hungry? Thirsty? You feel cold.”

“He’s here.” You said softly to her.

“Who?”

“San.” You said through gritted teeth, looking around, hoping not to conjure him up around you.

“WHAT?” Her voice elevated among the crowd and a few people turned to look. “What? He’s here. Why the fuck is he here?”

“He’s with Veronica and the others.”

“Oh that son of a bitch. He’s got some nerve. Where is Yunho? Is he with him?”

“I didn’t see him. I think I need a drink.”

“You need more than that. Come on.” Jamie grabbed your hand and weaved through the crowd that was gathering.

You followed her, not knowing where you were going in the slightest. Once you made it through the wave of bodies, you were pulled up to the large bar top.

“What can I get you ladies tonight?” The bartender asked, whilst cleaning out a glass with a rag.

“The strongest thing you have.” You said with no resistance.

“Coming right up.” The bartender immediately got to work, fishing out a few bottles from the shelves behind him and started pouring and mixing, taking orders from the other customers who walked up as well.

In a matter of minutes, he placed two orange colored glasses down to you and Jamie , sticking a lime in each slit of the glass. You thanked him and immediately drank it.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea he would be here. I even looked at the guest list. That's how I knew Veronica would be here.” Jamie explained. “This is my fault. I should have let you stay home.”

You separated from the glass and leaned against the counter, putting all of your weight on your hands. “It’s not your fault Jamie. I just- I just need a second.”

“Okay. Okay…um. Do you want to leave?” She asked, placing a calming hand on your arm. “I don’t want to risk you two running into each other.”

Downing what remained of your drink, you let the liquor burn a stream of worry down your throat. You grimaced from the pain, but took it, sucking in a vat of fresh air to cool your lungs again.

“Yeah. I think I should go. I’ll go find Yunho.” you insisted, waving off Jamie from taking on anymore hassle.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting here and we can leave. Just scream if you need me. Well- don’t actually, but just call me.” She nodded to you half-heartedly. You had a feeling she was itching to follow you, but you didn’t need her to babysit you.

Seeing San was not what you had expected to happen tonight, but who were you kidding? Of course he would be wherever his friends were, they were inseparable. You just assumed that you would not have been there to even know it in the first place.

You slammed your drink back down on the bar top and gathered your clutch purse and your phone. Returning a reassuring nod to a very visibly anxious Jamie and wandered off into the thicket of the dinner crowd. You maneuvered through countless bodies, searching for a remnant of your friend. There was nothing really differentiating him from the other patrons despite his long blonde mullet in a sea of pepper-gray hairs so you looked out for that. You peeked through conversations, from behind the backs of stockholders and possible CEOs in the hopes that one of them would be Yunho who magically disappeared.

You wandering about so curiously earned you some concerned glares from the partygoers, but you gave them a soft smile in the hopes to ease their tension from seeing you so confused and distraught.

Where is he? The ballroom was large and there were so many people, you could be searching for him forever, but time was of the essence and you needed to find him so you could get out of dodge as soon as possible. The last thing you needed was to run into San or, equally, Veronica again tonight. You’ve had your fill of both of them for a lifetime even if it was for five seconds. A few minutes went by and you had searched a good sum of the ballroom floor, but there was still no sign of Yunho anywhere.

He wasn’t answering your texts or your phone calls, which was weird because he always answered no matter what. Where could he be that has him caught up? You looked around and thought for a moment and then it hit you. Standing on the tips of your heels, you looked around at the looming walls above the party hoping to find some kind of sign that pointed to the direction of the nearest bathrooms. Your eyes latched onto a black sign pointed towards a dark hallway that would lead you exactly where you wanted to go.

Quickly, you dashed that way, calling your pardons and excuses to the people you plowed through and or pushed by. There were people coming out of the darkness of the hallway, some men, some women who had just seemingly handled their business. None of who were yunho who you were hoping for. So you tread further. The hall was dimly lit by a few candelabras attached to the wall, giving it a soft yellow glow. Thanks to the light, you finally managed to locate the restrooms decorated with their set signs to let you know which was which.

Then, the door to the men’s bathroom flew open with a screech. Happiness filled your features. You waited for the moments that the striking, tall blonde would appear in front of you and crack a joke about how he drank too much and didn’t realize it.

“Yunh-“ You called out, hopeful.

But your hope was misplaced because as soon as the door opened and the man stepped out into view, you were met with black. Not blonde like Yunho was.

Your happy appearance fell. You locked eyes and both stood there awkwardly yet again. San. Of course it was San. Why wouldn’t it be San? You cursed the gods at the moment in your head.

All you could think about at that moment was escape. You needed to get away from him, you could turn around and get lost in the crowd, return to Jamie and tell her that you both lost your ride and couldn’t find him anywhere, but San was fast enough that he could catch you before you even managed to think about leaving.

So you had only one other option to make it look less suspicious. Your eyes left his and flickered over to the women’s restroom.

San called out your name, but his voice was lost to you as you charged through the door and let it shut him out.

There was no way he was going to come in here, anybody could walk in or walk out in a moment’s notice. He’ll have to leave or wait for you to come out and there was no way that you were doing that with him still here. Due to the lack of movement in any of the stalls, you assumed you were alone, so you walked over to the sinks and set down your purse, going back to your recent call logs and ringing Yunho again. You put the phone to your ear and paced against the polished tile floor.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” You repeated, wishing it was the magic words to make him reappear.

The phone rang and rang and rang. No answer.

“God dammit, Yunho.” You cursed and hung up the phone.

The bathroom door suddenly pushed open. You thought nothing of it, but silenced yourself to not disturb whatever woman was coming to do her business.

“So, you and Yunho are a thing now?”

Your heart slid from its position in your chest and down into the pits of your stomach. You quickly glanced up to see Choi San standing before you with his back perched against the door. In the women’s bathroom. He seriously came in here? Is he fucking insane?

He was simultaneously blocking you in and keeping whatever potential savior there was for you outside.

“What the fuck- you need to leave.” You commanded.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t have to answer you. The door is right there. Leave.” You pointed towards the exit again, but he didn’t budge.

“Are you together? Fucking? What is it?” He asked again, this time moving off of the door and taking a few steps towards you. He was working the last nerve you were willing to give him right now.

“Why does it matter to you anyway?!” You bit back, your voice echoing through the emptiness of the restroom. “You know what? Fuck this, I’ll leave.”

You grabbed your things and tucked them under your arm, heading right for him. You put your hand on the door handle and pulled it open slightly, but San slammed his palm against it and closed it on you again.

“It matters because he’s my best friend. And he wouldn’t give me an answer, so I’m asking you.”

You laughed. You didn’t mean to, but you found the irony in his statement too funny to pass up the opportunity. “I’m sorry, that’s just really rich coming from you, San, considering you fucked my friend behind my back.”

“And you fucked mine. So, that makes us even.”

“Not even close. Yes, I had sex with Yunho, but I didn’t fuck him behind your back. You lost all my loyalty, when you chose Veronica over me. That’s on you.”

He huffed, staring down at you with those piercing brown eyes. Now that you could see him up close, his once baby-faced features were replaced with a stoic disposition. His brows were thicker and sharp making them more prone to furrow. His jawline was sharp and tense from how he was gritting his teeth, seemingly trying to hold back whatever words were about to come out of his mouth.

“Look..” San spoke your name so gently that it threw you off guard. His eyes softened and he looked upon you with no awkwardness or fear. He looked.. genuine. For the first time in forever.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to hear whatever it is he had to say to you. “Save it, San. Please.. save it. I don’t want to hear whatever excuse you cooked up in the last four years, or rehearsed to say to me whenever we saw each other again. I don’t.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry? That’s… not what you expected. You didn’t have a snarky comeback for that one, it completely threw you for a loop. He doesn’t apologize for anything. Why is he apologizing to you now?

“I fucked up. I know and I realize that, even if it was too late when I did. I had already lost you at that point, I just didn’t know how to fix it. I hurt you. What I did with Veronica was stupid and it was on me. It was no one’s fault but mine. I’m sorry for everything that I put you through. You can keep hating me forever if you want, that’s your choice, but I couldn’t keep going on knowing that you were the only person who ever loved me and I ruined it and never apologized.”

Each word was like a shot to your stomach. Every ounce of resolve that you had was slowly beginning to crumble before him. You turned your head away from him, staring down at the ground for a moment, folding your arms across your slightly exposed chest.

“Why did you do it?” You asked firmly, still keeping your guard up with him. “Did you like her?”

There was a push on the door that startled you both and then a knock. You looked at one another in a panic and motioned to San to handle it since he was the one blocking the door.

San didn’t say a word and neither did you. He just kept a steady pressure on the door as they tried to get it open, until they only assumed that the door was jammed. There were a few disgruntled noises outside the door and then they walked off, leaving the two of you alone again.

“To answer your question. No, I didn’t like her. I didn’t love her—I didn’t feel anything for her that was remotely close to what I felt for you. I don’t know why I did it…it just happened. We were with friends and we were hanging out, we talked a bit, I guess a bit too much. Next thing I know, we kissed and well.. the rest was history.”

“And tonight? Did you come with her?”

He scoffed. “No. I’m not stupid.”

“Well?” You sang.

San glared at you.

“Sorry, it was too easy.” You shrugged. “Go on.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, I did come with her, but I didn’t technically come with her. She just needed a ride, Seonghwa and I gave her one. I cut it off with her a few weeks after we…” He motioned between the two of you. “You know. She was already on to the next by then and we haven’t seen each other much since, until now.”

You nodded your head, feeling somewhat lighter now that he told you. “I see. Well, uhm. About Yunho and I..”

San stopped you before you could start. “You don’t have to explain to me. Let’s just say that it just happened.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it just happened.”

There was a mutual understanding in those words. Though you and Yunho had a deeper connection than what San and Veronica had, it was merely an understanding of position. You didn’t forgive him for what he did and San was probably livid deep down and probably couldn’t forgive you either, but the anger that was there from before was subsiding.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment before you spoke. “I- thank you for that, San. It was nice of you to apologize, but I have to go.”

You tried to open the door again, but instead of slamming it shut on you like he did last time, he grabbed you by your hand and held it in his. You whipped around to look at him and were met with the most heartfelt look you had ever seen him wear.

“Did you know that I’ve thought about you everyday for the last four years? I couldn’t get you out of my head for the life of me.”

“San-“

“No. It’s always been you. Everything has always been you. I can’t go to sleep at night without seeing your face. When I laugh, I think about yours. When someone smiles at me, I think about how yours was always brighter.”

“San stop.” You begged. You wanted to pull your hand from his, but for some reason you just couldn’t move. You had to get to Yunho. You needed to find him— you needed to leave. Why can’t you leave?

“Do you know what that feels like?” His hand tightened around yours. “It’s agony.”

“Why are you telling me this?” His grip only tightened.

“I meant what I said back then. I just should have said it sooner. I love you. I never stopped loving you and seeing you tonight only confirmed it. And if you don’t feel anything for me at all, we can free each other from this fucked up game right now. I’ll get out of your life for good.”

You stood there like an inanimate object. Not knowing what to say or what to do. You had felt everything that he was feeling ten times over and then some. Of course you thought about him in the past. You had thought about him living a life without you more than once. You thought about him every second of the day. The two of you were tethered by a string of damnation—you two were messy and you knew it, but you always thought that there was a possibility that you could work. Maybe he could love you the way you loved him. Maybe you could love him again. Maybe.. You wished maybe was a guarantee.

You wiggled your hand free from his grasp. San looked at you obviously distraught by the way the light in his eyes suddenly faded. You dropped everything that you were carrying in your arms as your phone and purse went clattering to the bathroom floor. Your hands moved faster than your brain ever could. You reached out to San, clasping both of your hands against his face and pulled him into you, lips crashing into a fiery slope of passion as he wrapped his arms around your backside like it was second nature to him. His build was much wider now and you felt incredibly small in his grasp, but San held you with every intent not to let go of you again.

As the kiss grew deeper, San careened his hands across your body, feeling the very places that he had been missing for the last few years. He worked your frame like he was trying to remember what spots connected to what, which ones were your favorites to be touched nowadays— he was trying to figure what kind of person you were now in just a matter of seconds.

Removing your hands from his chiseled features, you found new purchase on his suit jacket, which you tore off immediately, pulling the expensive fabric over his muscles. San pressed you against the door, letting your back meet the cool, polished wood; a single hand wrapped around your neck while an extended tongue flicked across your bottom lip, nonverbally asking for entrance, which you granted him with no hesitation. He slid his tongue between your parted lips and into your mouth, swirling his own instrument around yours. The kiss turned frantic, more hungry and needy. You moaned into his mouth, fingering the strands of his slightly long black hair while he simultaneously shifted the leg slit on your dress to the side, gripped the back of your thigh and pulled it to wrap around his slim waist.

This somehow brought the two of you even closer than you were already. He fell into you perfectly like a missing puzzle piece. You could feel his growing erection between your thighs each time he ground into you. The two of you were a bumbling mess of hormones and unsatiated emotions. San broke the kiss, using the same hand that was wrapped around your throat to tilt your head to the side. He attacked your neck like a predator, and you let him. His mouth was warm and wet and your body reacted almost instantly. You could feel the temperature rise inside your body. San continues his performance, lapping up the skin on your neck like it was refreshing to him, his kisses led down to your collarbone, your breasts. Unfortunately with the minimal time you had as well as the fabric of your dress covering the rest of you, San was limited in the love he wanted to show to your body, but that did not deter him.

Falling to his knees before you, he took the very thigh that he had wrapped around him and began to pepper it with kisses as well. Your hand was caught in his hair as you guided him, your mouth agape at the sight. You watch San with intention, as he kisses further and further up your thigh, inching the silver silk out of his way. You stuck your teeth into your bottom lip and smiled naughtily. San pulled his sharp gaze to you, and you could feel a gush between your legs. Why did he have to look at you like that? Your immediate reaction to this excited him and he continued onward in a devilish manner. Using both of his hands, he caressed your legs admiring you in all of your glory and fiddled underneath your dress, finding a latch on your panties and tugging them downwards to your ankles leaving you completely exposed.

San repositions himself as well as you. He places your leg just over his shoulder now, giving him a full view of your womanhood that was now glistening with your moisture. San licks his lips, practically salivating and grumbles with satisfaction even when he didn’t have a taste of you yet.

“God, I miss the way you taste. I think I need to remind myself again.” He said sweetly before moving forward against you.

Your breath caught in your throat once his lips connected with the sensitive hood of your clit. It was a small kiss to it, but it had so much power as well. You closed your eyes and rested your head against the doorframe, moaning softly into the air while San worked his magic. You still played with his hair offering some encouragement to continue even though you could not speak very clearly without a moan following soon after. San flushed his mouth against your pussy, you could see the lust swimming in his eyes as he stared at you the entire time.

“You’re already dripping for me. Good.”

He widened the part in your lips to give him enough room to slither his tongue inside, invading you, but of course you did not mind. It felt good already, you almost couldn’t believe it.

“Fuck..” you groaned to yourself, putting your eyes back on the beautiful man that was between your thighs.

His tongue prodded at your insides, slurping and sloshing about your velvety walls and sipping on the honey-like thickness of your juices. Every lick sent you further into the depths, you couldn’t control your moans. You almost felt too loud, but you couldn’t stop. And by the look in his eye, you almost felt like that was what he wanted. San continued to suck and kiss along the flaps of your portions , savoring every ounce of your flavor.

San separated from you for a split moment, leaving a string of his saliva as well as your wetness which his mouth was completely drenched in, and smiled at you deviously. “Damn, you taste so good.”

You could feel the rope that was holding your senses together slowly begin to unwind itself. You were too sensitive for your own liking sometimes and San knew that much about you. It didn’t take much for you to cave and now was no different. The way he was eating you out was almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were just getting started.

San followed a figure eight movement on your clit, but moved his tongue like an expert inside of you, never leaving a single part of your pussy untouched. Your moans got louder and louder, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him deeper into your temple. Your hips worked against his mouth and he invited it, digging his nails into your hips and pulling you closer to him. You whimpered, sounding more desperate than you had hoped to. With the way you were grinding on him, you were practically riding his nose at this point— each buck getting more uncontrollable than the last. San’s satisfied groans vibrated against your clit and you were even closer to losing it now. And he knew it.

San put more pressure on your clit using his free hand, massaging it in light circles with his thumb while he ate you out. You were getting attacked from all angles and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You let out a blood curdling yelp, followed by sharp moans and heavy breathing — releasing all of your pent up aggression onto his mouth. You twitched in place and tried to find some grip on the wall beside you to right yourself but there was nothing to hold you other than him. San lapped up your climax, and planted a kiss on your pussy before coming to meet you again. He didn’t give you a second to think as he kissed you. This time more direct and with intent. You could taste yourself on his lips. It was sweet and sticky.

“How bad do you want me to fuck you?” He asked lowly between kisses.

You were in a state of delirium, but you responded coherently. “Really fucking bad. I just want to feel you right now.”

“Good. Take it out.” He commanded.

You didn’t hesitate much to do so. You lurched forward, hooking one finger inside of his dress pants and pulled him closer to you. You undid his belt without issue, and his button followed, giving you free access to what you wanted the most. Your eyes were locked on San as you did this and he watched you with joy evident on his features. You swiftly pulled down his pants along with his boxers in the same fashion he did your panties, the belt hit the ground with a clanging noise leaving San exposed to you. He was just as big as you remembered him being if not bigger. It frightened you almost the way it stood massively at attention, twitching with eagerness. A smirk found his features, his tongue ran smoothly across his K-9’s and you had a feeling that you were in for a treat.

San pressed you flat against the door again, closing the space between you with his body. He kissed your lips again, and then your cheek and hummed lightly against your skin. “I can’t wait to see how pretty you look while I make you cum.”

San wrapped his hand around his hard-on, glancing down as he rubbed himself against your warmth, letting out a low rumble in his throat from the sensation. You soft groans mixed with his as the adrenaline pumped through your veins, filling the next few moments with anticipation. He pressed his tip against your opening, and slowly pushed himself inside of you— filling that space that he left empty. Your mouth fell agape at the shock of his size, it felt like he was stretching you out completely just to adjust to his size.

He started moving inside of you slowly at first, helping you to get used to him. “I got you baby just keep taking it, you’re doing so good.”

“You’re so fucking big..” you huffed out, holding onto San’s wide shoulders as he dug you out.

His pace quickened slightly, he wrapped your leg around him again, angling himself to hit you in just the right spot while he bounced you on his dick. His thrusts were powerful, but cohesive. His hips had a flow to them that made it feel like he was fucking you in waves.

“Yeah, you feel good wrapped around my dick. You take me so well.” He complimented, lurching into you at a speed that you were trying to keep up with. His hand was still wrapped around your neck, squeezing the air from your lungs. The pressure was comfortable, but just enough to heighten every sensation. You held onto his arm, scratching at his skin.

Still sopping wet from the last climax you had, the sounds of skin on skin contact along with the constant sloshing of your insides, was the perfect storm for the both of you. San gripped your thigh tightly, hiding his face in the thick of your neck as he roared loudly from the pressure building up against you.

“Oh San, Right there!” You coached, holding him close to you as he fucked you. Your nails clawed at the fabric on his shirt so harshly you thought that you would pierce it. The remnants of your sexual encounter were running down between your legs and you were almost at your limit. “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum for me.” He stammered. “God, you’re so wet.”

His dick pumps into you at a pace no man should reach, making you cry out for him in pleasure. You grip tightly onto his backside, struggling to keep yourself upright while he fucked you senseless to the point you lost your balance. If it weren’t for his strength, there was no way you were standing up on your own.

San was committed to making you cum first, but he becomes sloppy the closer he gets, but he doesn’t stop. “Cum for me babygirl,” he demands, “Cum for me..!”

And like a dog with a whistle, you obeyed his command and came. Your orgasm smacked you like a ton of bricks, and everything came rushing out of you all at once with no forgiveness. San followed suit with your flow, hearing the beauty of your moans and bursted inside of you. His pants were ragged, and his grunts were deep and gravely. The two of you tried to catch your breath, but the air escaped you. The two of you stood sweaty and stuck together with your juices intermingling inside of you. You were high off of all the sensations. It took you more than a second to come down off it. San collapsed into you and you did the same.

“That felt good..” He said into your skin.

You stared blankly up at the ceiling, admiring the intricate designs of old Renaissance paintings that you had never noticed until now. Your vision began to come back to you, and you were welcomed to reality once more. And the realization hit you.

“Yeah..” You responded shortly.

San pulled out of you and collided with the door beside you. sweat beading off his brow.

“About what you said earlier. About me feeling something for you?” You turned your head to look at him.

He glanced back at you with a wandering look, but still curious as to what you were going to say. “Yeah?”

“I still feel something for you, San. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but…” You paced yourself, swallowing your own spit to lubricate your throat as you said the words. “After everything we've been through, I don’t think I can love you..”

“Why not? You said you felt something right?”

“I do,” You paused for a moment trying your best to find the words to say it, but you took a deep breath and finally let it out.

“I…I think I fell in love with Yunho.”

TO BE CONTINUED IN

‘LOUDER THAN BOMBS’

(OUT NOW)

972 notes · View notes

herejusttosufferalong · 4 months ago

Note

Ehhh totally understand if you don't post this because it's depressing af. I'm choosing violence today. I was awash with lovey dovey feelings for our couple after re-watching L&N interviews, re-watching B3, re-watching BTS footage. I was full to the brim with LOVE. These guys had me in a choke-hold. Actually had me reviewing and reflecting on my life and relationships, adding so much joy and self-acceptance, reflecting on my self-worth, improving my world view. Allowing me to breathe in deeply, and expand myself in ways I didn't expect it to.

BUT yesterday was a mess. For so many reasons, not just because of L&N-related content. There were some bad vibes circulating. Then I made a really poor life decision last night. I decided to do some stalking of third parties, which I don't normally do. And of course, it had to be the night where said parties were posting and I saw all things unfolding in real time. My predictions were coming true in real time. It was like the granting of a wish in reverse. And look, I'm not naive to think that these things aren't happening, but when you see it unfold in front of you, it just hits differently. These people are so. fkn. toxic. It drains the life from me. The same occurred this morning when I awoke to see a timeline of HBS. I knew about it, but seeing it, with receipts, fkn disgusted me to my core. It was a visceral reaction. All of a sudden, what looked cute and puppy dog became unsafe and ugly. My empathy dissolved. The thing that gave me the most discomfort was the possible connection to the young dancer who was in B3. It made me think such awful things. (the worst being, is he just a fuck boy who was starved during tour?).

But why, why does it have such an effect? I don't interact with these people, no real relationship. So why? I think because we have been sold a certain narrative, through B3 and the press tour, that being authentic, having depth, focusing on 'the real bones' of people is paramount. Beyond the aesthetic. 'The truth will set you free' kind of thinking, right? And here we have the literal antithesis to that. People who promote and value aesthetic over substance. People who are egocentric and appear to have a very limited worldview. People you expect more from given they sold that 'depth narrative' looking you in the eye. People who are old enough to know better. People who choose to surround themselves with younger folk so that personal growth is disallowed. People who care more about their shallow life fulfillment, their hedonistic desires, than the feelings of others whom they purport to love and care about. People who hide behind ignorance, as if that negates them from consequence. The stereotype celebrity. It's truly deflating. I expected so much more.

And my original thinking of 'oh it's ok, he needs to grow and learn from his mistakes, he needs to find himself...", well, I'm finding it more and more difficult to believe. Because why give him grace? Why is he deserving of grace? Because he acted real well? What does he add to society? What do these fked up people add to this already fked up world? You've got N literally changing a whole landscape, waving her wand and creating light in darkness, urging us to think deeply while laughing at the same time. And no, we don't all possess that kind of magic, but hell, shouldn't we all be striving to be authentic, kind, thoughtful people? Shouldn't we try to promote these things if we believe in them?

Look, in this life, people are always showing you who they really are, telling you exactly what they value, what fills them up, and it's up to us to really look and listen. I'm disappointed in myself for not properly seeing what was in front of me all this time... You can't change those who do not want to be changed. My respect and my fucks given need to be earned, and honestly, we need to reflect on our own self-respect if we are willing to fawn over or idolise someone undeserving. As always, I have hope for people, but I'm no longer holding my breath.

Please, give me that Xanax and wake me up when September ends.

#fkeverything #ohthereyouareteenangst

#this is all opinion

64 notes · View notes

lily-blue · 11 months ago

Text

Prince in disguise

☆ characters: crown prince!san & florist!you ☆ genre: modern royalty au, fluff ☆ warnings: mention of a break-in ☆ summary: you like to joke about how San carries himself like a prince; one day it turns out, it’s because he’s indeed royalty ☆ words: 7,9k ☆ a/n: this story was inspired by this video of San ☆ also: merry Christmas to the lovely @restlessmaknae 💕 i wish you a peaceful holiday, so that you could regain your energy and start the new year stronger than ever ☆ massive thanks to: @dat-town for proofreading the story 💕

You often teased San about how he was the embodiment of your childhood crush, Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid. There was just something in the way he held himself, with so much effortless elegance and pride, that screamed royalty. However, up until the very moment three grown ass men in suits and sunglasses stormed into your flower shop, undoubtedly looking for him, you had never been able to decipher how he really felt about your lighthearted jokes. He definitely didn’t hate them, that much you could tell. He knew you would have stopped as soon as he showed any signs of frustration or discomfort, yet his most common reaction was a small smile and kiss on your forehead.

It had never, not even in your wildest dreams, when you let yourself dream about your future, occurred to you that he was an actual prince. Like a real prince with a queen as a mother and a kingdom to rule.

‘Miss, I would like to kindly advise you to refrain from any form of dishonesty,’ one of the men said, his voice calm and collected despite the photo in his hands and the urgency of the issue they were dealing with. You had never given any thought to the qualities a bodyguard (a royal bodyguard!) should have possessed, but you had to admit that he must have ticked off all the boxes on that imaginary list. ‘We have been informed that the Crown Prince, in fact, entered this flower shop and he could not have possibly had enough time to leave before we came in.’

You could feel your heart picking up its rate and your palms getting clammy, but you refused to show how nervous his way of speaking made you. You also refused to think about all the negative consequences your inner need to protect San could bring you. You knew that as soon as you let your brain come up with those worst case scenarios you would fold like a folding chair. And you simply couldn’t afford to be weak.

‘Thank you for your advice, sir. However, I also need to kindly remind you that you need a warrant in case you wish to enter the staff only area,’ you stood your ground, grateful that the owner of the shop wasn’t present, so she couldn’t grant them access to the storage room. That might have put both San and you into an uncomfortable situation. ‘I have already told you that your Crown Prince is not here. You are wasting your time,’ you claimed, impressed by how calm your words came out despite the hurricane of emotions inside of you.

What would you tell your parents if you got arrested for lying to these men? It wasn’t like you were hiding a criminal, right?

‘Disobeying the Queen is considered high treason,’ the royal bodyguard stated firmly and you gulped down the knot in your throat when you realised he wasn’t talking to you. The warning was dedicated to the guy who was currently hiding behind dozens of bouquets of lilies and sunflowers for a summer themed banquet tomorrow.

‘Sir.’ You cleared your throat to gain his attention or more like, to divert his attention from the storage room’s door that he was eyeing with intent. You didn’t know what you could have done if he decided to push you aside and enter the staff only area anyway. He clearly had the muscles for that and he also had backup even if the other two men were lingering by the front door. ‘I am a South Korean citizen and we are in South Korea. With all due respect, your Queen has no power here,’ you reminded him, mustering up all the confidence that was left in your body, which wasn’t too much to be honest. You were a mere commoner standing in front of a royal bodyguard, after all. Hell, you were a petite woman in her twenties against a man who had biceps the size of a smaller melon.

In the back of your head, you wondered how long your protective instincts would take you. For the sake of San and yourself, you hoped you could hold on long enough for these men to give up and leave. If things had gone there, you didn’t know how you would have explained to your boss why you had stayed overtime on a Wednesday night.

It took time, and a horrendous amount of awkward and pressuring silence, but eventually a new customer came in and your afternoon regained some of its normality. You helped the girl choose the most suitable flowers for her confession and gave her a gift card for free partly because she was adorable and partly because you were so genuinely grateful for her presence. Her ramble about her childhood best friend slash crush had successfully taken your mind off the predicament you were in with a prince in your storage room.

Unfortunately, after that, the rest of the afternoon kept you on your tiptoes. Two of the men in black suits left, but the third bodyguard refused to leave the shop and made sure you didn’t have a moment of peace with his countless questions and polite warnings of which quite a few were meant for San. At least, you honestly doubted his intention was to appeal to your emotions when he brought up the people of their nation, their well-being and the well-being of the royal couple. As much as you could tell from the morsels you actually understood - at one point the guard started to speak the same language San spoke when he was frustrated -, San’s parents were healthy, but his father was too drained to keep ruling the country for much longer. They wanted him to go back and be the king he had always been meant to be. They wanted him to settle down and have his own heirs.

The latter felt like a fist in the gut, like a knife in the stomach even though your translation’s accuracy was heavily dependent on context clues, so you might have been wrong.

You hoped you were wrong.

‘Sir, we are closing. I have to ask you to leave,’ you spoke up ten minutes before eight and let out a relieved sigh when he didn’t argue. You could handle his ice cold stares, but you were doubtful whether you would have had the energy to get into a fight after hours of cold war. His presence alone had drained you dry and honestly, the only things that kept you going were the knowledge that you were doing this for San and the cinnamon rolls from the vintage coffee shop across the street. They closed at ten, so they usually weren’t out of sweets when you visited them at the end of your most tiresome days.

A little paranoid that the bodyguard might have been still lingering out there, waiting for the moment when you foolishly let your guard down, you busied yourself with the online orders that came in in the last hour and stock checked the customer area. It took almost one and a half hours before you informed San that the coast was clear.

The boy walked out from the storage room with his lower lip between his teeth and a rather embarrassed smile on his face that - based on the months you had spent getting to know each other more - was meant to be reassuring.

‘Are you okay?’ San asked, warmth swelling in your chest due to his first words. Of course, your well-being was his top priority. His apologies and weak attempts at making excuses, so you wouldn’t have been mad at him always came second. ‘I’m so sorry.’

You clenched and unclenched your fists as you looked at him. Did he seriously believe that you could be angry with him for longer than a couple of minutes? You had gotten to know the truth hours ago. You were over the initial shock and done being sulky.

At that point, you just wanted him to be safe.

Therefore, you destroyed the distance between the two of you and not giving a damn about his title, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him impossibly close to your body. You could feel your cheek being squeezed as you rested your head on his chest.

‘Are you okay?’ You threw the question right back at him, feeling your heart picking up its rate with each second that passed you by in silence.

San’s lips were soft against your scalp when he kissed the top of your head and wrapped his own arms around your petite frame.

‘Thank you,’ he mumbled against your hair, his tone urging you to pull away and look him in the eyes, hence that was what you did. You pulled away with your hands still around his body and rested your chin on his chest, picking apart his facial expression as you tried to decipher what he was thinking.

Your breath hitched when he pressed his lips against yours briefly.

‘I promise I will explain everything,’ he said, his forehead fitting close to yours before he lifted his right hand and brushed a stubborn lock behind your ear. ‘But first, I need to take care of a few things. Important things,’ he claimed and with that - and another tender kiss pressed against your parted lips - he was gone.

You looked after him in trance for minutes before you shook your head and willed yourself to walk in the storage room to finish the stock checking. There was a cinnamon roll waiting for you at the coffee shop across the street.

You hadn’t heard from San that night, which was a tad bit alarming considering that he was living in your apartment unofficially for over a month. He had his own clothes at yours, his own towel, shower gel, shampoo and toothbrush. You had his favourite plant-based milk in your fridge along with his favourite instant coffee. His mug that matched yours was in your cabinet, waiting for him to come home. So why hadn’t he? The number of possibilities made you anxious.

What if those men had found him and he was already out of the country?

By the time the second night of radio silence rolled by, you were checking your phone abnormally frequently and couldn’t stay focused for longer than five or six minutes. It came to a point where even the Thai series you were currently obsessed with couldn’t keep you on the couch. You had to move around, clean up something, do something, anything that might have been able to take your mind off San’s absence.

You almost knocked off the half-empty mug of hot chocolate from the kitchen counter, the marshmallows still in your hands, when your front door opened out of the blue. You threw the sweets into your drink with a yelp and grabbed the first potential weapon that you came across: the cutting board you kept behind the knife organiser.

‘I have 112 on speed dial,’ you threatened, lowkey wondering whether you should have been more daring and grabbed one of the knives as you walked towards your bedroom, not turning your back to the front door. There should have been a key in the lock from the inside. You should have been safe once you reached the bedroom.

‘Well, that’s good to know, but why are we calling the police?’ A very tired, very amused San asked from the threshold, walking into the open space of your living room slash dining room with a bag of takeout in his hand.

You could feel the rocks being lifted off your chest.

‘Are you crazy? San! You scared the shit out of me,’ you accused, more relieved than angry. Seeing his tired eyes, you were reminded of the bodyguards and wanted to run up to him and inspect his body for injuries. You wanted to make sure he was okay; however, your limbs were frozen, hence you just stood there like a way too realistic statue from Ancient Rome.

Then, your gaze fell on the plastic bags in his hands again and your brain supplied you with all the worst case scenarios it could come up with: San coming over for a last minute farewell dinner before he moved countries; San asking you to change your relationship status to long-distance relationship; San breaking up with you with your favourite black bean noodles. You weren’t ready to let him go after putting so much effort into winning him over.

‘I’m sorry, petal. I thought you would know it’s me. After all, there aren’t many people who know your passcode and your parents are out of town,’ he said. There was something in the way he broke the situation down to you that made you feel a little dramatic. Of course, you should have known it was him. Other than your mom and your best friend, he was the only one who had access to your apartment.

You pressed your lips together and pouted. He had no right to make you feel silly when your survival instincts were the ones to blame.

‘What are the noodles for?’ You asked as soon as you put yourself together, finally finding the power to move your legs and walk up to him. The furrow between San’s eyebrows and the confusion in his eyes shouldn’t have been so adorable.

‘It’s Thursday. You never have energy to cook on Thursdays and Fridays,’ he explained, like you were some kind of alien who wasn’t accustomed to the local habits yet or a person who had just woken up from years of coma. He must have thought that your question was so damn ridiculous, but it wasn’t what you had meant.

‘You didn’t come home yesterday,’ you said, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the whiny edge of your statement and the fact that San had his own place to sleep at. His lease wouldn’t expire for at least three more months, so you hadn’t moved in together yet. You had no right to call him to account regarding his whereabouts and still, after what had happened the day before, you kind of felt like you had.

You took the bags out of his hands and helped him unpack the still pleasantly lukewarm food. You also started to prepare a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows for him, too, without asking whether he wanted some. He never said no for hot chocolate.

‘I was with Wooyoung,’ he said, filling a tray with numerous tiny bowls containing various side dishes such as kimchi and yellow radish. ‘I needed his help to contact my oldest cousin, Seonghwa.’

You nodded along with every new revelation, paying close attention to every detail while you slid San’s drink towards him on the dining table. It was your first time hearing about any of his family members, at least from him, so you were admittedly curious.

Even though the trays on the table made it obvious that San’s initial intention was to have this conversation on the couch, you didn’t move an inch from your poor excuse for a dining room. You just stood there, with your elbows on the marble, one of your soles resting on the inner side of your other leg and dove into your food with a pair of wooden chopsticks. You didn’t take your eyes off San while he told you everything about his situation.

‘I left the country with Woonyoung’s family when I was fourteen,’ he started, assuring you that he wasn’t a runaway prince per se, and that he had never hid from his parents. Both the queen and the king of their country knew how to reach him in case of emergency, teenager San had just convinced himself that that day would never come as his parents had never bothered to contact him after he had moved out of the palace. With years of neglect behind his back, his adult-self never thought about the possibility that things might have changed.

You placed your hand on top of his and squeezed it as a sign of your support. You were afraid that he would interpret your sympathy as pity, therefore you tried your best to keep your emotions in check. Instead, you gave San all of your attention, hot chocolate momentarily forgotten.

‘Would you like to go back? Now that it’s an option?’ You mustered up the courage to tear off one of the band-aids; the unsaid inquiry whether he wanted to become a king in the first place hiding between the lines. Somehow, it sounded such an insensitive question, you didn’t have the heart to phrase yours like that despite your curiosity. Therefore, you decided to focus on the fact that the royal couple was his parents. ‘To see your mom and dad?’

After a few seconds of contemplation, San shrugged.

‘I guess so,’ he said and you hated yourself for feeling disappointed. They were his parents. Of course, he wanted to see them again. Who were you in comparison to his family? Without much thought, you took your hand off his; however, San didn’t hesitate to reach after it and intertwined your fingers with a soft smile. ‘But that can wait until Seonghwa’s coronation. It’s been over a decade since we’ve last seen each other. A few more months is no big deal if it means they will let me come back to you.’

As touching as it was that he was willing to delay their reunion to be able to stay with you, your first instinct was to remind him that he was his own person and no one had more power over his life than him. But then you swallowed down the words as your brain caught up with the situation. You might have been absolutely right about this matter in general, but San was a prince. Clearly, general rules didn’t apply to him.

‘What do you mean Seonghwa’s coronation?’ You tried to fill in the holes that made it hard for you to fully comprehend the situation. You thought he was the next in line to rule. You definitely remembered the bodyguard referring to him as the Crown Prince.

‘Well, that’s the most important part of our plan,’ he started, pushing the food closer to you, encouraging you to start eating before it got cold. Albeit reluctantly, you eventually gave in, allowing him to steal himself a couple of seconds as well as he dove into the perfect mixture of noodles and red bean sauce.

Then, he proceeded to tell you about the plan they had made with Woonyoung and six of their mutual friends including his cousin and Seonghwa’s personal bodyguard, Jongho. Since San didn’t wish to become the new ruler of their country, but knew that his parents wouldn’t back off without a fight, they intended to prove to them that Seonghwa was the better choice in every aspect: maturity, dedication towards his people and the country, connections, political and economical knowledge. The way he presented their idea and backed up each one of his reasons made even you think that Seonghwa was more fitting for the role. It made you feel hopeful.

‘Do you think your parents will let you give up the crown?’ You couldn’t help but ask when it became obvious that he didn’t have anything more to say.

The silence that followed was palpable. Still, you let him drag it out and pull you into his lap, so he could wrap his arms around you instead of giving you a definite answer. Now you knew that he wasn’t close to his parents - that their relationship could only have been described as distant. Making guesses based on childhood memories would have just given you false hope. You much preferred his soothing touches and the desperation in the way he held you close.

‘I love you,’ he murmured into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hinting the soft and sensitive area with feather-like kisses.

You sucked in your lower lip, holding your breath. Even though his actions had shown you, even before you two had gotten together, that you were an important person in San’s life, the two of you had never exchanged I love yous before. As much as you hated to acknowledge, it had a bittersweet undertone to it. You wished you could have told him how precious he was to you under different circumstances.

Nevertheless, you said it back.

‘I love you, too. So much.’

That night you eventually relocated to the living room and got comfortable under your fluffy blankets on the couch. You had two mugs of freshly made hot chocolate with you - this time, without marshmallows to lower your already high sugar intake - and some salty snacks you could munch on while you talked. And you talked a lot. You talked about the day before, how the bodyguards had found him and how serious their threats had been. San was almost sure that his parents would have never imprisoned him for high treason if he had refused to go home willingly. By the way his lips curled upwards and his eyes gouged your reaction, you knew he was only trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but it was too early, hence it wasn’t funny. Life imprisonment with a cheap excuse was exactly how they could have kept him in the country! How could San not see it?

‘Don’t even think about joking about this again, you hear me? It’s not funny,’ you scoffed when he tried to ease you with lingering kisses atop of your head, temple and on your blade bone. Him disappearing on you just wasn’t it.

‘I promise.’ He nosed your temple, holding you in his arms a big tighter to make up for the anxiety he had unintentionally caused. ‘I’m sorry,’ he added, repeating it like a mantra until he successfully coaxed a chuckle out of you.

With the show you had been watching before his arrival as your background noise and his warmth surrounding your body, you fell asleep on San’s shoulder while he was talking about Seonghwa’s bodyguard, karaoke, imported beer and apples. If anyone had asked you, you were sure you would have failed to draw the connection between all four, but you knew your boyfriend would have never used your tiredness against you. On the contrary, he would have been grateful that you still felt safe in his arms.

And you did. You did feel safe. Because for you, he was your home.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that your story wouldn’t end up being a fairy-tale, and that even those had some dark twists to them here and there when they were told by the original authors. Still, coming home for a messed up apartment and no San in sight knocked the air out of your lungs. No matter how much you tried to rationalise the happenings or keep your cool, panic overcame you in a matter of seconds. You didn’t know what to do. Would calling the police have made things worse? What if it had been those bodyguards? You didn’t intend to put San into a tight position in case the pitiful state of your home was a consequence of their family quarrel.

On the other hand, what if he had been kidnapped? You had left work pretty late that night, so there was a possibility that San had been home when things had escalated.

Hands shaking and mind pushed into an overdrive, you fished your phone out of the bag you had previously dropped on the floor and dialled San’s number. He didn’t pick up, so you did the next best thing you could think about without losing it: you called him again. Again. And again.

You called him as many times as it was necessary for him to answer your call, his calm voice breaking something in you as your knees gave out as soon as his greeting reached you and you fell on the floor, crying.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ When you sniffed into the phone instead of answering, his voice lost its calmness. ‘Petal, what’s happening? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’

You weren’t hurt, not physically at least. But the chaotic mess your mental state was in was secondary to the fact that San sounded to be oblivious of the intrusion into your home.

‘Please, petal, talk to me,’ he tried to coax you and while it didn’t work immediately, when he started to do a breathing exercise, you automatically mimicked the way he sucked the air into his lungs. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

‘Where are you?’ The words felt like sand on the tip of your tongue, your urge to know for sure that he was in public or at least among people who could help him in case of emergency pushing all your other worries aside.

‘I’m with the guys at Wooyoung’s place. Do you need me to pick you up? Where are you? I will pick you up,’ San said, the distant sound of keys chiming and wood cracking assuring you that he was ready to leave as soon as you gave him the sign. Hell, he might have left the boys without you explicitly asking for it considering the worry in his voice.

But as comforting as the thought was, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment.

‘No!’ You objected, maybe a tad bit too vehemently for which you might have felt awkward under different circumstances. Now, emotions like shame and embarrassment were at the end of your priority list. ‘Can I visit you instead? I promise I’ll tell you everything in person,’ you negotiated. Not realising that you were holding your breath, a relieved sigh escaped through your pressed lips when San chose to withhold his questions for the time being.

Some matters were wiser to discuss in person. Matters that could put you in a tight position if anyone found evidence about your scheming. Especially when you were up against an opponent so powerful, they had the resources of actual royalty.

Looking around in your fucked up apartment, without your heart threatening to explode in your ribcage, you knew you didn’t want to take unnecessary risks. You had to be smart about your next move.

You showed up at Wooyoung’s place an hour later with one sports bag packed with your most necessary belongings and was greeted with a worried San who didn’t understand why you would have brought your entire bathroom cabinet to his best friend’s apartment when you loved your home. You definitely had a lot to unpack, both literally and figuratively.

‘I can’t believe they’re willing to go this far,’ a guy with sharp eyes and nose said, the same guy who had taken it upon himself to bring you a mug of herbal tea when you made yourself comfortable on Wooyoung’s couch. His name was Hongjoong or something similar if you remembered correctly. ‘I start to think that we might have underestimated them a little.’

‘A little?’ Two or three of San’s friends asked in chorus at the same time San lifted his head up from your shoulder and said:

‘I doesn’t matter. Our plan is good, they’ll have no other choice but to go along with it.’

Just by looking at his friends, you couldn’t tell whether they actually believed what San had said, but it was clear as day that they believed in your boyfriend, hence you leaned against his broad chest and let yourself relax. Neither San nor you were alone in this. You had allies and strategies. You had a good plan, and even if that failed, you had options. San’s parents might have been powerful, they could clearly break into your home to scare you, but they had no real authority in Korea.

A voice in the back of your head also reminded you that you lived in the era of social media. You doubted they would have risked bad publicity by pushing their son too much and causing irreversible damage to those he cherished. Or so you hoped.

‘Our plan is good, but will princess Yuna actually agree to go along with it?’ Another guy, whose name you hadn’t memorised yet, asked, his question piquing your interest. It was the first time you heard about this princess and with your obsession with Asian dramas, you did not like the first scenarios your brain threw at you as it tried to fill in the gaps. Who was she? Why was she an important part of the plan? Was she interested in San?

‘Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about before petal came. She said yes,’ San said, the hollering and overflowing happiness in the room making you feel weird, like something wasn’t quite right with the situation: like you were missing something crucial that would have given you a perfect explanation for the odd reaction the news received.

With naturally pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows, you placed your hands on your lap along with the pleasantly warm mug and turned towards San. His smile was so beautiful. He was genuinely happy about the progress they had made now that this princess was on board.

‘Who is she?’ You asked, mentally reminding yourself that you were San’s girlfriend. You had every right to ask him about this girl until you remained clear-headed and didn’t throw a temper tantrum for no reason.

‘She is the most sought out unmarried royalty in Asia. Her family’s country is very small, but their economic power is remarkable.’ Hongjoong said.

‘She is two years older than San, but they’ve known each other since they were babies, so he’s allowed to talk to her informally. Her kindness isn’t just for show, she really is the most warm-hearted royalty I’ve ever met,’ Wooyoung added before his wide grin turned into a frown. ‘She never lets me talk to her informally, though. Like I haven’t known her for just as long.’

‘Yeah, she’s so unfair.’ Yeosang’s voice was teasing as he altered it to sound more mocking: like Wooyoung’s but a pitch higher. ‘It’s not because you called her Yuna in front of a bunch of politicians when she explicitly told you to use her birth name when people other than your family were present.’ The bombastic side eye the blond boy gave to Wooyoung almost made you laugh. Almost.

You had to admit, this princess Yuna sounded pretty amazing. Gosh. You were such a horrible person.

San must have sensed your inner turmoil, because the next thing you noticed was the light touch of the tip of his nose against your cheek and his pillowy lips against your jawline.

‘She’s also Seonghwa’s fiancée,’ he murmured, placing one of his warm palms on the other side of your face, so that he could turn your head a bit more and make you look at him. You gulped, more shy than nervous. ‘That’s what she said yes to. Seonghwa proposed to her a few hours ago.’

You sucked in your lower lip, but before you could have done any damage, San pulled it out from between your teeth with his thumb; the fondness in his eyes simultaneously took your breath away and made you feel unworthy of his love. How could you have seriously thought that he would have included someone in their plan - felt so happy about her joining their team - if she had any interest in him romantically?

‘So it’s not a fake marriage?’ You inquired, coaxing a small laugh out of your boyfriend. His eyes almost disappeared because of the pure amusement on his face. It didn’t take long before you gave into the urge to hide your own in the crook of his neck.

Going easy on you, San semi-successfully bit back a chuckle and put his chin atop of your head, stroking your hair.

‘No, it’s not a fake marriage. They’ve also known each other since childhood, obviously. And they’re pretty much in love,’ he reassured you, letting you have all the time in the world if that was what you needed to be able to look him in the eyes again.

Fortunately, you didn’t need that much to get over the fact that you were only human; a girl with fears and insecurities. The herbal tea in your mug was still pleasantly lukewarm when you pulled away and straightened your back.

‘So cute,’ San whispered, pressing a soft peck against your lips before he helped you readjust your position on his lap, so you wouldn’t hurt your neck too much with the way your body was twisted and turned to be able to be chest to chest to him.

‘Oh, stop that!’ Wooyoung’s frustrated voice came from somewhere beside you, your brain not registering that he was teasing, or that he was talking to you until he said: ‘One royal wedding will be shocking enough for your parents. I don’t think they will be able to handle two.’

Failing to disregard the sudden attention on you, your cheeks became warmer and more pink with each second; however, you refused to seek comfort in the crook of San’s neck because you just knew that would have made things worse. You concentrated on your tea instead, on the feel of the porcelain against your clammy palms, on the fluffy blanket on your thighs. On everything and anything that wasn’t your boyfriend or his friends.

‘You’re making her shy,’ one of the boys cooed and some other joined, pushing your heart to the verge of an explosion. You didn’t realise that your hands were trembling until San slid his fingers between yours around your mug and leaned close to your ear.

‘Let’s kick Wooyoung out of his bedroom. I know where the clean sheets are, and it can be locked from the inside,’ he whispered, his lips curling upwards, therefore grazing along your earlobe. You hesitated only for a split second before you nodded.

You got up from the couch and let your boyfriend lead you towards his friend’s bedroom. As the key turned in the lock the thought crossed your mind that you had never done anything so scandalising before, but somehow the immense amount of guilt never came. Instead, you felt excited.

Excited, hopeful and safe in San’s arms.

You were arranging a bouquet of light pink carnations and peach-coloured buttercups for an anniversary when San walked out of the storage room at your workplace with a new roll of lace wrapping and his phone in his hands. With the way he dragged his feet, walking impossibly slowly, you just knew that his eyes were glued to the small screen; you didn’t need to tear your gaze away from the flowers that had your attention to be a hundred percent sure.

‘Have they started it already?’ You inquired between two twists and turns, holding the whole bouquet together with practised ease even when you had to take the wrapping from San with one of your hands. You still remembered how many you had dropped on the floor during your first few months at the flower shop. The number of flowers that had gotten destroyed in your care haunted you up to this day.

‘No, they’ve been focusing on mother and father so far. Mostly on father, but that’s kind of understandable,’ he said, your lips twitching at the mention of the royal couple.

Prince Seonghwa and Princess Yuna’s wedding had been a week ago and while you hadn’t attended the event, nor had done San, your boyfriend’s parents had made it to their mission to put you through anxiety when they had demanded to talk to you as soon as San had picked up the phone for them the day his cousin had announced the big news. They hadn’t gone as far as to threaten you or bribe you with more money than your type could comprehend, but you were well aware they didn’t think you were worthy of their son. God, they had quite literally told you he could have done much better.

‘Last minutes being a king. I wonder how he feels about that,’ you commented, putting in a bit of extra effort to not sound rude. You didn’t want San to think you hated his father even if, rightfully so, he hadn’t been your favourite person in the world.

‘I don’t think he minds it that much. He was only twenty-two when he took the throne. Three decades is a long time,’ he explained while he leaned the phone against a vase on the counter and put a part of his weight on his palms that laid flat against the marble. ‘The only thing he might be upset about is Seonghwa taking my place.’

You regretted the snort the moment you did it. Your hands froze around the perfectly wrapped bouquet and so did the air, which made it hard to look your boyfriend in the eye.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,’ you apologised, putting the flowers in water before you took San’s hand in yours. ‘They are your parents and I’ll be forever grateful to them for your existence. For sending you to this country out of all the countries they could choose from.’ You shot a small albeit genuine smile in his direction. It might have sounded a little cheesy, but you meant every word. Without them you would have never had him.

‘I’m not mad at you,’ he reassured you, squeezing your hand and pressing a soft kiss atop of your shoulder blade before he turned back to his phone and you reached for the next pieces of flowers. You had five more bouquets to finish before your lunch break.

Seonghwa’s coronation officially started when your bibimbap was still in need of some more mixing, but that didn’t keep you from leaning closer to San’s phone and watching the live stream with more excitement than you had had for his father. You might have never spoken to your boyfriend’s cousin before, but you had heard enough stories about him from the boys to know he would be an amazing king. Mostly, because he cared for his people and because he genuinely wanted the responsibility that came with the title.

‘He looks like a leader. So serious-looking,’ you commented, shoving a huge spoonful of food in your mouth and humming in appreciation because goodness, it tasted just like your mom’s homemade bibimbap.

You lifted a bite in front of San’s mouth, so he could try it, too.

You watched the ceremony in complete silence; sometimes you fed him, sometimes you put your head on his shoulder while munching. It was nice. You hadn’t been so content in weeks if not in months.

‘Aren’t you disappointed?’ San asked you after the crown was put on Seonghwa’s head and the sovereign’s sceptre and the sovereign’s orb were placed in his hands.

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

‘About what? The ceremony?’ You asked, completely oblivious of what was going on in his head. You jutted out your lower lip; you didn’t like feeling as though you were kept in the dark. It made you feel stupid.

San shook his head, failing to hide the fond smile that was in the corner of his mouth.

‘Yuna is officially a queen now,’ he mumbled and despite how embarrassing it was to admit, it took you a couple of seconds to decipher what he was hinting at: you could have become a queen, too, if only he had gone along with a different plan, with a different goal in mind. You were pretty sure, based on your impactful experience with his parents, that they would have let him keep you if the other option was their nephew on the throne.

‘And you’re officially free. I think it’s an amazing day for everyone,’ you teased, gifting your boyfriend one of your happiest smiles, so that he wouldn’t have doubted that you loved him for who he was instead of what he could have become. You didn’t care about the title or the fortune that golden crown came with. Honestly, all you focused on was how heavy it must have been to carry it, especially when one wasn’t keen on looking after an entire nation.

One careful glance at San was enough for you to know that a well-thought-out retort was already on the tip of his tongue - maybe something along the line that his salary was barely enough to save up a decent amount in each month -, but he never got the opportunity to actually put his concerns into words. The bells above the front door cut him off and naturally, your conversation came to a momentary end.

The new customer was a middle-aged man with a little girl on his right, her tiny hand getting lost in her father’s much bigger one before she pointed at one of the peonies and the man let her explore the flower shop on her own.

‘Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?’ You greeted the man with a smile as soon as his steps came to a halt in front of the counter.

Like most people who visited your workplace, the man had only vague ideas of what he was looking for, but you were fluent in the language of flowers, hence it caused you no headache to help him find the most suitable bouquet for his wife’s birthday. He wanted something that expressed his dedication to make the woman smile, therefore, you gave him options like pink tulips and yellow flowers in general.

Meanwhile, the little girl pulled on the hem of San’s tee and didn’t let go of the fabric until he stood up and followed her towards the customer area that you liked to refer to as the jungle. The corner with the spiller plants for example were like a sight from a botanical book or the children’s book with the gorillas and the little boy taken in and raised by said wild animals.

You bit back a giggle when you saw San lifting the little girl up, so that she could see the red roses from up close; however, your subtle smile froze on your face anyway when the little one asked San:

‘Are you a prince?’ In the most innocent voice you had ever heard in your life. She was so pure. She clearly had no idea what she was talking about and yet, both of you needed a few seconds to realise she wasn’t onto something bigger than her - something that could have put her in harm’s way. ‘Can I be your princess?’

The mortification on her father’s face almost cracked you up, and you did chuckle discretely when looking up, you took a better look at the girl. What looked like a summer dress at first glance turned out to be a princess costume. She even had a tiny, plastic tiara on her head.

San put her on the ground and crouched down to be at eye level with her.

‘I’m sorry, princess, I would be honoured to become your prince, but you see, I already have my own princess and I need to treat her right,’ he explained with utmost patience, then took the little girl’s hand in his (with her permission and her father’s approving nod, of course) and pressed a feather-like kiss on the back of it. ‘Will you forgive me and keep my secret?’

You couldn’t see the little girl’s face, but she was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, so your best guess would have been that she wasn’t entirely placated. Still, eventually she nodded and made grabby hands at your boyfriend, insisting that she wanted to see more of the flowers. That, you did not mind at all. In fact, you found it rather adorable.

(San with a tiny human being in his arms was adorable. They turned your legs jelly and your knees uncharacteristically weak.)

‘I’m sorry about Minah. They had Occupation day in school today and she insisted that being a princess is a full-time job, so her mother and I let her dress as one,’ the man explained and you shook your head with an endeared smile. You weren’t mad at his daughter nor were you jealous of the attention she got from your boyfriend. If anything, his willingness to humour her made you fall for San harder.

‘Minah is right. Being a princess is a full-time job,’ you said without contemplating whether your words sounded ridiculous, although before the whole royal guard incident, you would have thought she was childish, rightfully so. She couldn’t have been older than seven.

You didn’t talk much with the customer after that, but you didn’t mind the silence. It gave you the perfect opportunity to listen to San’s conversation with the little girl, which was just as hilarious as cheesy, especially when you caught him declaring his love for you with such vehemency as if real-life princes also needed to defeat magical creatures to protect their loved ones. Where was their debate about good dragons and bad dragons coming from?

A light shade of pink crept up your cheeks when the little girl asked San straightforwardly whether he was talking about you, but you tried to remain composed.

‘It’ll be 30,000₩, sir,’ you informed the customer with a customer-service smile and gave him the bouquet before you took his money; the exchange smooth and fast. The prices were written on the board above your head, right behind the counter; however, some people liked to criticise your craft in hope of a discount. Those customers never failed to make you feel anxious.

‘Thank you. It’s beautiful,’ the man complimented the arrangement before he bid his goodbye and turned towards his daughter. ‘Minah-yah! It’s time to go. Say goodbye.’

Albeit reluctantly, the little girl wrapped her arms around San’s right leg and hugged him. Then, like a real princess, she walked up to you and did a curtsy, which you returned with a few-second-long delay. You were too taken aback to react immediately.

You were still a little shocked when the door closed shut behind the two, but then San hugged you from behind and reality caught up with you. You melted against his broad chest.

‘She was cute,’ he commented, coaxing a hum out of you.

Closing your eyes and letting out a content sigh, in the back of your mind you knew that you still had a very serious conversation on hold. A conversation in which your boyfriend would tell you over and over again why he wasn’t enough: how he had barely enough savings, hence how you couldn’t possibly depend on him in financial emergencies. Like money was the most important thing in a relationship! Like you didn’t have your own savings.

Turning around in his arms, you linked your arms behind his neck and pressed your soft lips against his. You wished these gestures were proof that his heart of gold had won you over years ago; that you didn’t wish to become a queen and even if you did, you didn’t need the title because he already treated you like royalty. He was everything - kind-hearted, attentive, loyal and so much more - and you wouldn’t have changed a thing in your lives.

Crown Prince or not, San made you happy and excited about the future. About your future. Even if you had a long way to go and might have had numerous battles to march into to earn his parents’ approval.

the end.

#san x reader #san x you #choi san x reader #choi san x you #ateez scenarios #modern royalty au #ateez fluff #ssbyme

196 notes · View notes