#for the first time in so so long! It's over two years since I've been this at peace!

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

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[mbrine]

EXTREME VOLUME WARNING(probably)

ugh I spent wayyyy too long editing this video lmao

Anyways here's Tails getting slightly overcooked and turning slightly explosive for his second birthday this year

Happy birthday Tails (again)

Bonus stuff under the cut

So after the time I coincidentally microwaved Tails on his birthday back in October, I decided to commit to the bit again

Y'know... since he has two birthdays (16th October and 21st November)

Also. Because on top of these two screenshots, I've had some of my friends ask me to make Tails explode for some reason

hope i did good lmao

I tried a lot of new things in this project, mostly revolving around other methods for masking objects (Luma key my beloved and utterly despised), and a little bit of messing around with colors to get Tails to look a little bit more like he's behind the window rather than on top of it

I even made a crude texture to mimic the mesh over the microwave's window

Here's what the Fusion tab looks like in my Davinci Resolve project, it's... almost readable...

i had to fullscreen the window just so i could zoom in enough to see the text

Screenshot I took that looked cute, before turning up the saturation on Tails in the final video lol

There's still a ton of issues that I have with the video, mostly because I couldn't really get Tails to look like he's behind the door (without it looking even jankier)

Also throw in a good ol' dose of wack motion tracking (surprise surprise it's hard to track a reference object when it goes completely into shadow LOL)

But ehh for a first attempt I'm pretty happy with the result

I might try doing something like this in the future, when I have time

maybe

Ok ok one more thing

micro.wav has been living rent-free in my head since October, that song is catchy af lol (I've been listening to it nonstop since the first microwave video)

wait if it's been 32 years since Tails was born and he has 2 birthdays per year does that make him 64 years old

[loppiopio]

just some 🥥 related sillies i've made for that fic we all know.

[flickeringflame216]

and if all the people who told you one day it won't hurt all the time and there will be a sunny day and you will be able to notice how beautiful it is were right. what then.

[uncanny-fellow]

life is too short I wanna replay SO many video games

[theabstruseone]

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

Edit to add further developments:

Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.

Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.

The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.

The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.

The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.

TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).

This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".

This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")

X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.

Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.

The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.

One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.

Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.

[doodlemancy]

Hey, so, Patreon is lying to you about Apple forcing their hand.

Patreon is getting rid of 1st-of-the-month/per-creation billing, claiming a new decision by Apple has forced their hand. This will hurt a lot of creatives, and their excuse is bullshit. Allow me to explain.

In 2018, Patreon tried to impose a new ill-considered fee structure on everyone that would have cost creators a lot of smaller pledges. They ended up apologizing for this profusely; they have now deleted this apology from their website and unfortunately I was unable to find it on the Internet Archive. This was shameful, but to their credit they backed off quickly when things got ugly.

Back in 2021, Patreon discussed plans to force all creators into a rolling bill structure and get rid of first-of-the-month/pay-up-front billing. The community once again very decisively shouted them down, and they had to walk it back again. This whole fiasco damaged the already shaky trust between Patreon creators and staff.

This week, Patreon announced that, along with extra fees, Apple's policies were supposedly forcing them to move everyone over to the rolling fee structure that they first tried to get us to agree to in 2021. Patreon will tell you they are not happy about this. As a person who spent a long time watching Patreon make terrible decisions, I can tell you-- they are probably very happy about this, because it's exactly the smokescreen they needed to do what they've been trying to do for years, which is pull ALL Patreon creators away from 1st-of-the-month and per-creation billing.

The spin in the news I've seen so far is "Apple bullies Patreon, boo hoo hoo poor Patreon". This is very obviously not what's happening. Mind you: Apple does suck, and they are doing something bad here. Fuck apple. But Patreon and Apple are BOTH the asshole in this situation; Everyone Sucks Here. Patreon has options: they can make the iOS app a reader app and do billing through the browser to avoid the restrictions and the extra fees (Netflix and Amazon, notably, both do this), or they can allow creators to opt-out of iOS billing if they want to use billing models that don't work with it.

It seems most likely to me that the Apple situation is a real fire that Patreon has chosen to use as a convenient smokescreen to do what they've been wanting to do since at least 2021, and maybe since 2018.

What do we do?:

They have a feedback form specifically about this.

They also have a creator discord.

And they have lots of social media pages where they probably really, really hope that this doesn't blow up again, because they never learn. The incidents I've described here aren't the only two other times Patreon has pissed off their creators. They know if they don't contain the noise it'll be harder to get away with it, so make some noise. They've done a lot of work to spin this cleverly so you'll have sympathy for them and they won't get the kind of backlash they know they deserve.

Please don't misuse these links and make threats or spam or something. All you have to do is give well-reasoned feedback. Patreon hates feedback. Make sure they get a nice heaping helping of their least favorite vegetable.

[queer-ecopunk]

So, I'm trans. And several years ago, I was at my great grandfather's funeral. 17, newly on T, barely out to anyone other than my close friends and family. And I'm standing there at the refreshment's table, surrounded by strangers and members of my family's church, when George walks up to me.

This man is ancient, bent like a finger and frail. Tufts of white hair surround his wrinkled face. Like always, he's wearing thick glasses, massive hearing aids, and his veteran's hat. George was my first introduction to the concept of war, when he told me as a child why he was missing two fingers on his hand. He's been a fixture at church since I can remember. I've only ever seen him at there or in uniform at parades, the rest of his time spent in a nursing home somewhere. He picks up a deviled egg and says, in his quiet voice,

"You know, before your grandfather died, he told me that now he had 3 grandsons."

I'm frozen in place. I don't know what to say to that, if I should say anything at all. This is not a conversation I expected to have, especially not with this man. But he continues.

"I didn't know what he meant! So he explained it to me."

And I can imagine it. My great grandfather, uninformed and opinionated but supportive, explaining to his friend the news he barely understood himself over after-service coffee and cookies. His eldest grandchild was now a boy.

"And, you know, I didn't know what to think."

Here, George looks me up and down. This 90-something year old war veteran, who knew me mostly as the little girl playing in the church kitchen with his wife, processing what my great grandfather had really meant. It feels like a long pause, even thought it probably passed in a second.

"But you look good. So, eh!"

And then he smiled, shrugged, and walked away without another word. If I was fine, if I was happier, then that's all that mattered.

George passed away this week, at the age of 99. This memory has been bouncing around in my head for a while, but I wasn't sure if or how I should share it. It was a conversation that meant very little, but also meant the world. It was scary, and funny, and the moment when I realized that sometimes the people you least expect will accept you. Sometimes, even if they don't fully understand, even if they barely know you, someone will choose to support you. And that will always matter.

[pxrplepolkadots]

💔

[hiraethwrote]

i've always known - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were six years old when you met him for the first time.

“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.

“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.

But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.

“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.

“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”

“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.

“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.

Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.

“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.

“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.

“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.

Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”

Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.

You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.

With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.

Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.

But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.

“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.

Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.

“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.

“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.

“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.

“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”

If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.

He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.

Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.

Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.

“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”

“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.

It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.

Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.

There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.

Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties

“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.

“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.

“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”

You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?

“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.

“Think you’re funny?”

“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.

“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.

Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”

The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.

Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.

Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.

The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.

Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.

“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.

Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.

The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.

Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.

Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.

“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.

Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.

You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”

“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.

“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.

“For what?”

“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.

“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.

“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”

“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.

Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.

“I guess so.”

“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.

“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”

Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.

“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.

And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.

“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.

“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.

This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.

There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.

So, by association, you too became popular.

You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.

Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.

So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.

Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.

“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”

They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”

“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.

Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.

You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.

After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.

Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.

“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.

“What’s this weekend?”

“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.

“Party?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.

“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.

It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.

Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?

“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.

“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.

“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.

Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.

You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.

“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”

“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.

“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.

“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.

“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.

“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”

It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.

What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.

And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.

Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.

You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.

“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.

Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”

A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.

“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.

And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.

“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”

Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”

“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“

“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.

“Neither has she,” she laughed.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.

Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.

It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.

Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.

The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?

Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.

Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.

“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.

“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”

A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.

“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.

Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.

“What happened?” He asked carefully.

“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.

“I thought things were going well.”

“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”

A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.

Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.

He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.

“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”

“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.

“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”

A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”

When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”

He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.

“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Any time.”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.

“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.

“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.

“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.

“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”

“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.

Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.

Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.

Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.

Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.

When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.

Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.

“‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.

“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.

“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.

“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”

“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”

“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”

You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”

His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”

“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”

“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.

“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.

“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.

He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.

All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?

One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-

No, stop!

You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.

His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.

“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.

The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.

You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.

And never brought it up.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.

Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.

You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.

“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.

The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.

“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”

And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.

Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.

It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.

Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.

This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.

“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.

“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.

When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.

“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.

“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.

“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“

“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.

“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.

“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.

He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.

All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.

Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.

“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.

“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.

And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.

“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.

“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.

“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.

She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”

“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.

He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.

“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.

“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”

“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.

“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.

“Where are you?”

“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.

Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.

“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”

“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.

“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.

“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.

“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.

“I was kicked out.”

“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.

“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.

“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”

“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.

“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.

“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.

“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.

“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.

“I’m not stopping-“

“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.

“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.

“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.

“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.

“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.

“Stop acting like a brat and just-“

“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.

“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.

You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”

“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”

You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.

“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”

“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.

“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.

A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”

“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”

“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.

“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.

“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”

“That’s different-“

“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”

Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.

“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.

He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”

“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”

“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“

What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.

Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?

“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”

His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.

“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”

Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.

“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”

“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”

“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”

Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.

The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.

“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”

You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.

“Think I see you clearer than ever.”

Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.

The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.

Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.

Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.

But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.

Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty years old when you started university.

After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.

So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.

You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.

Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.

However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.

You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.

“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”

Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.

“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“

The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.

Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.

Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.

You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.

He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.

“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.

“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.

With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.

Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.

His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.

You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.

“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.

You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.

“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.

“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.

“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”

He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”

It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.

You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”

Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.

“Sure.”

“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.

You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.

“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.

“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.

It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.

toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus

you: sounds good :)

It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.

And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.

“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.

“Me too.”

“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“

His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.

“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.

“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”

His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”

He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.

“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.

“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, nerd.”

Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.

And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.

It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.

There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.

But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.

Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.

When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.

And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.

Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.

You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.

The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-

“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.

What was happening?

There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”

A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.

“I should have kissed you that night.”

His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.

“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.

“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.

“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.

Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.

His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.

Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.

“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.

Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.

You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.

But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.

The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.

Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.

You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.

Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.

“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.

“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”

Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.

Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.

“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.

“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.

Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”

“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.

“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.

Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.

His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.

Motherfucker.

“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.

“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.

“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.

You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.

That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.

“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.

The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.

At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.

“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.

Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.

Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.

“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”

“God you’re so beautiful.”

“Taking me so good baby.”

“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”

“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.

“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”

His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.

He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.

“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”

“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“

“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.

Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”

“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.

“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”

“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.

“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.

“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.

Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.

For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.

“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”

Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.

“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.

“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.

Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.

Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.

“So what’d I miss?”

“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”

“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.

“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.

“Ouch,” he breathed in response.

“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“

A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.

“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”

“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.

“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.

“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.

Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.

“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”

“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”

The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.

“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.

His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.

“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.

“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.

“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.

Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.

But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[asahicore]

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored. 

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?” 

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum. 

--

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him. 

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions. 

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child. 

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.” 

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes. 

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours. 

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back. 

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate. 

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion. 

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss. 

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you. 

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands. 

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against  the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all. 

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern. 

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking. 

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon. 

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

--

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past. 

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake. 

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright. 

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles. 

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

--

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes. 

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?” 

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come. 

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in. 

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth. 

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him. 

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

--

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting. 

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one. 

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter. 

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.” 

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.  

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him. 

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.” 

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed. 

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

--

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks. 

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to. 

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing. 

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

--

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out. 

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

--

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream. 

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh. 

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. support your creators by reblogging and leaving feedback!

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[chuluoyi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, marriage of convenience, explicit smut, pregnancy

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the second part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.2k ! thank you so much for your love in the first part🩵 but as of now, TAGLIST IS CLOSED so i'd appreciate it if the comment section won't be flooded with asks for tags :')

credit header goes to @/mongsanghwa in twitter!

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Heavens, help me... I love her too damn much!

For Gojo Satoru, love was once an abstract concept. At first, he thought it was admiration, or a sense of obsession—

But on the day he watched you become Zen’in Naoya’s bride, Satoru realized it was much deeper than that. It felt like the sharpest sword had pierced straight into him and lodged itself there.

And then, years later— as if hearing his prayers, you became his. Since then, his life was perfect, because he wasn't lying when he said that you were everything he wanted in life.

Yet in a twist of fate, that same sinking, horrific feeling washed over him... as he watched the pagoda he built for you engulfed in flames.

You were there. Satoru felt himself staggering as he took in the mortifying sight. You and his unborn child are inside!

He didn't waste a breath as he dashed towards where you were, crushing everything in his path in the process, but just as he was about to enter the scorching temple—

“Satoru, no!” Suguru grabbed him, restraining him with his own body. “Get back!”

“No!” he screamed at him frantically. “She is there! Suguru, let go—!”

And then the worst happened, as the pagoda completely crumbled into a heap of rubble. Satoru's breath was knocked out of him as he faced the reality that he couldn't save you in time. And he felt like losing his consciousness as he wheezed, and thrashed in Suguru's hold.

It was all too much for him to comprehend as he struggled against the devastation before him.

How... did this happen? You were happy. You were about to welcome a child into your lives! The two of you really were...

SEVERAL WEEKS PRIOR

Your husband is trying to use you to wage a war... against your homeland.

You secluded yourself in your study, trying to make sense what you just overheard.

In a broader perspective, Satoru's actions could be constituted as national defense. If he perceived the Eastern Empire as a threat, then countermeasures were indeed necessary. But if not...

Regardless, it was not the very idea that blew you, but how he planned to use you to sway sentiment in your former country, to weaken them.

Is that what he's been aiming all this time? You felt like a hypocrite to question this since you too were using him. But these days, you were certainly not using him—you were falling in love with him.

It was strange, because you were supposed to be furious if that was his intent from the start. Yet what you felt right now was profound sadness, possibly even denial and heartbreak. You kept thinking how there must be another explanation—

“Sweetheart, hello~!”

You were startled when the door to your study was suddenly flung open, and the man from your thoughts strode in with a broad grin, completely oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"Satoru." You fixed him with a genial smile, even as nausea churned within you. Straightening your skirts, you looked up at him.

"I've been told you haven't been well, and Shoko said you've seen the physician," Satoru frowned, his long fingers cradling your face as he half-sat on your desk. "How did it go? What did he say?"

"Oh..." you clammed up, feeling at loss. "He said..."

Your dashing husband tilted his head curiously, bright eyes softened, worried lines etched on his face were so clear... and despite your conflict, you didn't have the heart to deny him this news.

"I'm with child." This time, your smile was genuine as you pushed back your intrusive thoughts. "Satoru... I'm carrying our child."

For a full ten seconds, Satoru was stunned, staring at you with a blank expression, his lips slightly parted. "H-huh...? Child? A... baby?"

"Mm-hm. A living baby."

"O-oh..." Satoru blinked his eyes rapidly—looking at your face, then your abdomen—before his expression broke into absolute wonder, broadly grinning. "T-that's... oh— it's—!"

To say he was speechless didn't cut it as he stuttered, messed his hair, pinched his own cheek, becoming restless yet looking so incredibly giddy—

"My queen!" Satoru suddenly lifted you and spun you around midair. "My beautiful wife—!" before gently sitting you on the desk and burying his face in your skirts, hugging your waist tightly. "Good lord, I'm— I'm so—!"

It hadn't truly dawned on you until now that you were going to become a mother. Witnessing Satoru's unabashed reaction as he nestled his face into you… nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Right in this moment, you didn't entertain any other thoughts. You were deeply moved by your husband's overwhelming excitement for your baby. And the realization that, despite Naoya's accusations—

Satoru looked up at you the second you sniffled, and he immediately drew you closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hey, no tears, yeah?" He rested a hand on your jaw, his eyes sparkling with utter adoration as he gazed at you. "This is wonderful. We're going to be parents. This child... a part of you and me—we're going to bring them into the world."

You tugged his collar close and brushed your lips against his. And he responded with equal fervor. You yearned for this closeness with him.

. . .

But still in the back of your head, that lingering, buried fear whispered—

Is the man who adores you this much... capable of hurting you to the same extent?

With your bare bodies pressed closely, and you under him, Satoru could sense the rapid beat of your heart. And in return, you felt the heat of his palms against your skin and the tremors in his breath.

Yet now, in your marital bed, it quickly became clear to him that you, who were usually so composed and collected, were nervous. Satoru couldn't suppress the smile spreading across his face even if he tried.

"This is far from our first time, Empress." His coy smirk taunted you as he littered kisses along your jawline and chest. "What are you so jittery about, hmm?"

"Ah..." you let out a soft sigh as he sucked your breast with his mouth. "N-nothing... you're mistaken."

"Hmm... not confessing? Right..." He then grabbed the generous mound of your other breast and fondled it, making you squirm and moan.

But in the midst of this eroticism, suddenly your mind was thrown back to—

“That’s why I have her here.”

"Satoru," you breathed out, catching his hands. He looked up to you in slight surprise, thinking that you wanted to stop.

But he was in for a plot twist when you first pushed him, then flipped him underneath you, straddling him and capturing his lush lips, yanking his hair in the process.

"Whoa— hey..." Satoru held your hips, visibly startled but clearly enjoying your sudden whim, snickering. "My queen—ohh— you're a sight to behold, on top of me."

He grabbed the flesh of your bottom, sinking his fingers into it and pulling you forward. You let yourself be moved until your thighs were next to his ears.

Suddenly, it was, at once, the most peculiar experience—the greatest confidence boost you had ever received, and the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You're so damn wet already," your husband nipped your inner thigh playfully as he observed your folds, and you gasped. "Are you ready?"

In response, you slammed yourself onto his face because, right now, you were in a less than forgiving mood.

"You look good under me," you darkly retorted, but then you choked on your own breath when your husband started licking your folds messily with his tongue.

Satoru smirked at the sound of your breathless noises, responding by lapping even more fervently. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tightening their grip on his scalp as you began to grind yourself against his face.

"You a-are really n-nasty!" you moaned, voice breaking at the feeling his sinful tongue parting your opening. "Maybe y-you have lied to me… all th-is time."

Satoru furrowed his brows in slight confusion, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, as he pinched your clit in retaliation, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

"You're— awful!" but contrary to your claims, your face contorted with pleasure as the tight coil in your belly spasmed. "How m-many women... h-have you beguiled like m-me?"

He almost laughed into your ass. Literally. If being called awful was the price for pleasuring the most beautiful woman in the lands, then Satoru would be happy to be that horrible person every day of his life.

But then, you suddenly shifted on top of him, no longer positioning your hips in his face, and he quickly caught your face, crashing his lips against yours so both of you wouldn’t part for even a second.

"Nobody else," he murmured, wet lips and tongue ravishing yours, so much lust glistening in his eyes. "I'm all yours— forever." Just as he whispered it amidst pants, he groaned when your hand sneakily went to his very hard length.

And firmly grasped it. He got swollen just by tasting you and hearing your noises earlier. He growled, and against his senses, he pushed you down to lodge it inside you, penetrating and splitting you apart in one go.

“Ah—! Satoru— it’s too…!” you babbled breathlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders, feeling his huge cock pulsing inside your tight walls.

“Your fault,” he rebuked, eyes narrowing into darker shades, rigorously moving his hips against yours as he sat up. It was impossible to hold it in any longer, he could feel it already.

He tensed up, adjusting his position, so close to losing it inside you, and when he heard your dirty mewls and felt you shudder—reverberating through his body too—Satoru gripped your waist tighter, groaning, holding you in place to release his load inside you with precision.

Your body gave in as well, releasing at the same moment his cum burst inside you. Your vision blurred as the nastiest of moans escaped you, yet you felt so safe as your husband caught you in his arms.

. . .

"Are you okay?" Satoru asked worriedly after you rolled off him in the aftermath of your bliss. "Do you feel sick?" Your unfocused eyes met his, and he looked panicked, pulling you closer. "Shit, did I go too far? I shouldn't have, especially with the baby still in the early stages..."

"I'm... okay," you croaked, trying to reassure him. "Just tired..."

Heaving a relieved sigh, Satoru pecked you in the lips.

"Am I... a mess?" you leaned on him with a blissful smile, feeling his cum still trickling out between your legs.

"Yeah... My beautiful mess, that is." Satoru chuckled, reveling in the state of your disarray. "Soon enough," his hands traced your skin before settling on your tummy, a fond smile curving his lips. "Our baby will grow here."

"Yes—" you replied, placing your palm over his. "Do you... want a boy or girl?"

A boy would be the much sought-after prince, and you fully expected him to favor it, until to your surprise, Satoru lightly hummed and pressed a kiss on your belly button.

"Does that matter? What's important is you deliver them safely and they're healthy," he chuckled. "A princess will be nice... she'll turn out to be as lovely as you."

"But the heir has to be a prince..."

"Nah. I can always amend the succession norms. I'm the emperor."

And you giggled next. Seeing how free you looked, Satoru thought you were the woman overturning his skies and stars, and you truly are—as now you are the mother of his own flesh and blood, his future empire.

There will be a nation-wide celebration for you. Satoru insisted it was a must, and he would invite dignitaries from neighboring empires and kingdoms as well.

Including the Eastern Empire.

. . .

“Your Majesty. I... bring a gift and an invitation from the Western Empire.”

Naoya clacked his heel on the carpet, casting a sharp, yet uninterested look at his aide.

“There will be a celebration for—” the poor man gulped uneasily, faltering as if he could foresee how his emperor would react. Naoya scowled.

“Spit it out.”

“The former empress’ pregnancy, Your Majesty!”

“What...?” At that moment, he snapped his head towards him. It felt like everything he had ever known came crashing down. “Y/N...?”

That can’t be possible. For many years both of you had failed. That was why he took that maid and divorced you. No, upon reflection, it was never truly his intention to divorce you—he had wanted you to raise that child if you couldn't bear one.

But then you completely ignored him and had an affair with Gojo Satoru. He was furious. He couldn't bear the disgrace of it all, so he went with the divorce, if only to assert some control. However, the joke was on him, as you ultimately fled with Gojo entirely.

But if you aren’t infertile... Then, what did that make him?

Numerous thoughts ran through his mind. Was it possible that it was his child instead of Gojo’s? How many months had it been anyway?

...or could it be that he is the one who is—!

“No...” he muttered, frantic, taking sharp breaths. “Absolute rubbish!”

The aide stared at him in fear, as Naoya appeared unhinged now. But soon, that fear gave away to pity, as the emperor trashed his desk and howled in frustration— but contrary to the expected fury, Naoya looked like he was mourning, evident by the way he flung everything but the very portrait from his coronation day.

Of him and you. Even after that disastrous divorce, he had never taken it down from the wall of his study. Now, Naoya was staring at it, a multitude emotions clouding his eyes.

This man, just as the aide had always thought, has thrown away the only good thing he has in his life.

“Are the invitations sent already?” Satoru asked with a blooming smile, rolling the yarn out of his cat’s reach as the poor kitty grappled to catch it. “And how are the preparations going?”

“Banquets are usually handled by the Empress, but you really go out of your way and do it instead,” Suguru shook his head, unamused by the added workload it brought him, especially considering his disinterest in festivities.

“They’re all sent, some of them responded—before you ask, Naoya hasn’t— and I’ve cascaded the preparation to Shoko, since I have no clue what to do about it.”

“Well, not that I care if he’s going to stay sour and wants his name tarnished in the daily papers as a bitter ex-husband…” Satoru shrugged, petting Sugu-chan as the cat purred contentedly. “He is tactless, he very well might be.”

“You really want to spite him, don’t you…” Suguru sighed. “You even sent him a note. It was unnecessary.”

“He was the one hurling curses at me and my empress first. I’m just returning the favor.”

The note in question was of lines after lines of flowery nonsense about gratitude and whatnot. Satoru imagined Naoya's vein would burst after reading his card.

“I’m happy for you, Satoru.” As exasperated as Suguru was, his smile was genuine when he said it. “A royal baby, huh...”

"Suguru." The emperor's voice suddenly dropped an octave, surprising him. "What about the placement of the totem I told you the other day?"

The abrupt shift in conversation made Suguru visibly uncomfortable, and again, they were back to this topic.

"You're seriously going to do this?" the duke asked, almost in disbelief. "Satoru, you're going to become a father. You have everything already. This will lead to war one way or another, and—what if the Empress finds out? How do you think it'll make her feel?"

However, Satoru's gaze was cold as he dismissed most of Suguru's tirade. There was a chill in his expression that made his longtime friend inwardly questioned who the man before him was.

"I'm asking you. Have you done it or not, Suguru?"

"You're going to put a curse on a whole village, Satoru."

"I told Zen'in Naoya the moment I got Y/N, that it would mark the beginning of his downfall. I'm making good on that promise."

Suguru pressed his eyes shut to calm his fury. Morally, what Satoru did was wrong, but politically, this was the art of war. Suguru purely opposed to this out of consideration for you.

Few understood Satoru's actions as well as Suguru did. He might understand, others like you and Shoko wouldn't.

"Just remember, when the Empress catches wind of this, she's going to resent you," Suguru warned. "No matter what your reasoning might be."

Satoru's upper lip curled upwards, his eyes bereft of light, narrowing with indifference.

"Unless you never tell her, that is of no relevance."

Love... has he ever loved you all this time?

Naoya had never been confronted with that question or pondered it, simply because he never considered love existed within the context of something as grand as monarchy.

You were chosen because you were well-bred and well-versed in the arts of nobility. You were indeed the epitome of an ideal empress, a fact evident throughout your tenure.

But...

"Naoya!" you yelled at him and caught his hand. "You're a fool! Why did you keep doing that!?"

It was a long-buried memory, when you were still in your teens, around the time you were just made the crown princess. His hands, bruised and bloodied, and you tended to them.

"I'm not weak, you know," he sullenly barked. "I have to train to be stronger."

"You definitely have to train, yes... but you have to take breaks!" you retorted angrily.

"Why do you care so much anyway?" he snapped back. "It's not like your hands that are injured."

And that moment, you were suddenly almost in tears. Naoya never understood why.

"Don't cry." But his instincts told him to make you not cry. "Don't cry. I'm fine, see?"

. . .

Zen'in Naoya jerked awake from his slumber, realizing he had forgotten what his dream was, that it was still the late afternoon, and he was still in his study.

All he felt was that nostalgic feeling, and it intensified when he glanced up... only to see his coronation portrait on the wall.

It was almost as if you were still here. You were incredibly stunning, he had to admit that. Why hadn’t he realized until just recently?

The way your crimson dress flowed out, and that thin, serene smile on your face... you were a picture-perfect empress, and that was not an exaggeration. No one could measure up to you—

"Your Majesty~!"

Especially not Hanabi.

"Your Majesty, the princess has started holding her head up!" Hanabi, now no longer dressed in rags but rather in one of your dresses, excitedly remarking, "Soon, she will start to—"

Naoya's gaze fell on her dress. He recognized it instantly. That specific deep, vibrant shade of red with serpent-like waistband. It was one of his gifts to you for your birthday. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Huh?" she seems perplexed. "Oh this... I thought it looks pretty..."

But to her surprise, he suddenly flared with fury. "That isn't yours, you dullard," he spat out.

Her expression sank in heartbreak as he continued with his venomous speech. "Know your place." His words cut like a blade. "And I keep telling you, a princess is of no use to the throne!"

Hanabi fought to hold back the tears, because not only had he insulted her, worse still, he showed no interest in their daughter. "She is still of your blood, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling.

"I told you, I only want a heir." His sneer caused her eyes to widen in shock. "Other than that, I won't care."

"Your Majesty, please—" Hanabi was desperate for him to acknowledge their daughter, when she caught sight of your ethereal face on the wall.

He still hasn't taken it down. It made her eyes twitch, and her own anger to rise.

"The former empress..." she stared at your picture resentfully. "You still have her here. We never even have our portraits painted..."

Naoya's icy gaze leveled at her without a hint of sympathy, despite the woman standing before him being the mother of his child.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Hanabi asked, tears spilling from her eyes. "You used to care for me when you thought I would bear you a son. Even if it's a daughter, she deserves love too, doesn't she?"

In the last five years, she had come to know that the emperor wasn't always this manic person. He used to be gentler, or at least not as vindictive.

And she never truly wanted you to be cast away like that. She looked up to you, admired you from up close, and meant it when she said she would carry your legacy as best as she could.

"Are you dumb?" Naoya barked. "I told you to know your place!"

...yet why? Why are people in this palace so harsh to her?

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi. Beware, the emperor is fickle…”

Your unkind eyes, Naoya's disdainful stares even after she gave birth to his child... She didn't even care about becoming the empress anymore. She just wanted a happy life!

"If it was the former empress' child... even if it was a princess..." Hanabi turned to him with determination even amidst her pitiful tears. "You wouldn't cast her aside just like you do now with my daughter, would you, Your Majesty?"

Naoya's gaze, devoid of emotion and filled with blatant disinterest more than anything, shot through her, hurting her more than if it was filled with fury instead.

The lack of warmth in his stare made her feel like being looked through rather than being seen. As if she is that insignificant.

"Leave," he ordered coldly next, turning his back on her.

And there is her answer.

Hanabi had been your maid for five long years. She knew who you were, what you stood for, and your whole demeanor. Yet, despite her best efforts, she could never emulate you in the same way, could she?

. . .

"My lady... don't you know that the former empress is with child?"

Once again, Hanabi felt the sting of ice when her lady-in-waiting delivered the news.

"Empress... Y/N?" she whispered. "How...?"

You were stripped of your titles here, and yet you still remained a queen somewhere else. Hanabi might have won Naoya's favor, but now she was losing it while you had another emperor's affection.

Not much had changed about you. You still occupied the highest seat a woman could possibly attain. Whereas she...

"But she is barren!" she turned to her confidant then, almost in disbelief.

"Evidently not. Emperor Gojo has proven that."

How nice. A part of Hanabi wanted to congratulate you because she knew of your sufferings—how much you longed to hold a baby from your womb in your arms.

How unfair... But another part of her couldn't help but despise you. Because even in your absence, she still had to live in your shadow. Because you, who had lost everything, regained it all so easily.

"And my lady... Emperor Gojo is going to throw a banquet for this occasion next month. You are expected to attend it."

"Sweetheart, you asleep?"

One night, several weeks later, just as you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt the sheets shift as Satoru slipped into bed beside you.

Though you didn't turn to face him, you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist from behind.

"Satoru... you're back," you murmured sleepily.

"Mm-hmm," he whispered, pulling you closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair, taking in your scent. "Shoko told me you've been in your bedchamber since breakfast. Are you okay?"

"I get queasy if I walk too much, so I've been lying down all day... But don't worry, the physician said it's normal in early stages of pregnancy."

His grip on you tightened, as he caressed your belly. "Hmm, naughty baby. I'm sorry I wasn't here..."

"Where were you?"

For days now, he had been away, and you hadn't really questioned him. You had your guesses though—

"I was overseeing the construction of a new pagoda," he said softly, kissing your neck. "For you, actually."

That was so unexpected that it made you open your eyes fully. "What— for me?" Building pagoda was definitely not a small affair. Usually it was for religious purposes.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby. It's expected to be completed before your celebration banquet."

The tower would be the testament of his love for you and your unborn child. Despite yourself, your heart swelled with overwhelming warmth.

"You're so silly... why do you spend the tax funds for that?" you brushed off the faint heat in your face, not daring to look at him still.

"Whatever I wouldn't do for you?" he cheekily retorted, chuckling.

You had never felt this cherished before, and this time you were certain—you were more than ready to fall in love with this man.

But he... is planning to use you, isn't he?

"Satoru." You shuffled to turn and face him, causing him to crack his lidded eyes open. You gazed at him, placing both of your hands on his face, caressing his face softly.

You're so kind to me. I appreciate you for that. You wanted to tell him various things, but the darkness in your heart ever since overhearing his exchange with Suguru made it hard for you to do so.

"Mm? What is it?" he drawled with a small smile, leaning into your touch.

“You... love me, don't you?”

His bright eyes found yours then, sharp and steady. An impossibly fond smile graced his lips, as if finding what you said the most natural thing there was.

“Throughout heaven and earth,” he proclaimed, his voice steady to match his eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

...then you would trust him, if only just for this moment. The genuine sincerity in his eyes, the raw authenticity in his words... it all felt too real.

And so, even when you were well-aware of the bitter possibility of truth, you leaned in and kissed him, giving yourself to his touch as his hand slipped inside you.

And soon, came the day of the lavish banquet solely held to celebrate your pregnancy.

You were seated on your throne, dressed in a stunning aquamarine gown. The skirt of the dress was full and flowing, spilling onto the floor in a waterfall of shimmering fabric. Upon your head perched your crown of diamonds, glinting beneath the light, and your ceremonial veil to make you look as queenly as you could possibly be.

Everyone would agree that you were a sight to behold, and that you were worthy of every praise possible.

"Many congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

"This is a splendid news! A royal baby!"

"To think that the emperor has settled down... sniff, how long have we been waiting for this...? We almost gave up."

You almost giggled at the way Archbishop Yaga wiped his tears with a handkerchief as he presented you with his gift.

Despite your initial reservations, you enjoyed the festivities more than you expected. You had opposed the idea at first, finding it quite unnecessary, but Satoru had pouted for three long days until you eventually relented to appease him.

Speaking of him, he was equally dressed to impress, looking every bit as an emperor he was in an exquisite aquamarine military uniform and robes. Despite engaging in conversation with Earl Nanami, he kept a watchful eye on you, stealing glances in your direction to ensure you were well.

You nodded at him, and he threw you a wink. You smiled.

Everything was truly going well... until the herald announced:

"Prince Megumi and Royal Consort Hanabi from Eastern Empire!"

There was suddenly a hush over the crowd as the two made their entrance. You stilled, looking at the figure responsible for your checkered life—

Hanabi was starkly different since the last you saw her at the courthouse during your divorce. Her dress was now a vibrant shade of burgundy red, reminiscent of a gown you once wore. Gone was her air of humility, replaced by a display of extravagance befitting a noblewoman.

She is no longer your maid, but Naoya's consort. There was no trace of the woman who once served you. You were actually impressed, as she could actually shape herself into the image of a royal consort.

"Empress." However, your attention quickly shifted to Naoya's nephew, and once also your ward, Megumi, as he bowed before you respectfully. "Congratulations."

A fond smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you regarded the young prince who had once been a very shy individual. It reminded you of the days spent with him just to get him out of his shell.

"Thank you, Megumi."

"Diamonds suit you far better than golds do. I wish only for the best for you, Your Majesty."

It warmed your heart, really. Using that reference to your gold crown from your time in the Eastern Empire, you could see how much Megumi truly understood your position and bore no resentment towards you.

Could the same be said for Naoya though?

Right after you received his gift—an ornate box that seemed oddly familiar to you—Hanabi suddenly blurted out:

"So, fate has smiled upon you. Congratulations Empress Y/N." She kept that soft, meaningful smile on her face as she offered her felicitations.

Ever since her arrival was announced, something about her demeanor had bothered you. There was a subtle emptiness that seemed to linger in her gaze.

"Thank you," you responded, and that was when you noticed it. There was never any celebration for the birth of her daughter and Naoya, only a passing announcement.

And so, you added. "Congratulations on the birth of the princess too."

You could have sworn her expression fell for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure and bowed her head to you.

For a while, you lost sight of her in the crowd, feeling quite comfortable in your dais. Soon after, Satoru returned to your side, and the herald announced:

"Attention! His Majesty the Emperor's gift for Her Majesty the Empress!"

You looked at Satoru questioningly, and he gave you a dashing smirk before turning to the crowd.

"Thank you, all of you, for joining us to celebrate this joyous occasion." The way he carried himself and the sheer confidence he exuded was mesmerizing, you couldn't deny how it made you swoon. "I've been infamous for many things, and I'm sure the tales have spread far and wide. So please, allow me one more gesture with you as the witnesses."

The crowd giggled at his words, and you finally spotted Hanabi among them, quietly assessing the scene.

Your husband turned to you, a soft smile on his face.

"This is for you my empress— my lovely queen. Words can't describe how elated I am to know that now you bear our child." He took your hand and pressed a kiss on it. "And it's only fitting that I praise you along with the skies and the stars."

A footman arrived and presented a pearly box. Satoru opened it, revealing a necklace inside. The centerpiece was a large, flawless diamond surrounded by smaller, perfectly cut stones of the same kind. No matter how you saw it, it was truly a work of art, meant to captivate and dazzle anyone who laid eyes on it.

You let out a gasp. "This..."

Satoru grinned, picking up the jewelry and preparing to place it on you. "Nothing much. Just a little trinket for you."

"This is not just a 'little trinket'!"

Your banter elicited another round of snickers from the audience as Satoru fastened the necklace around your neck. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into applause.

"Actually, my real gift is the new pagoda in the royal gardens, built in honor of the Empress," Satoru stated effortlessly, grinning unabashedly. "Feel free to stop by later, everyone."

To the ton, for him to gift you with something so sacred was the height of extravagance. Some of them wondered how you had managed to turn the elusive emperor into someone so devoted to you.

And a few... might be harboring ill will against you for it.

. . .

Later that night, you were sorting through the gifts you had received throughout the day.

"I don't understand, why would you give an expecting woman this?" Shoko picked apart a manuscript that was the gift from Archbishop Yaga. "Who would read this?"

"I wouldn't, but I'm sure Duke Geto would," you replied, and soon the two of you were giggling together.

From jewelry to ornaments, you were pleased with all the gifts presented by the guests from day one. While most were given out of formality, it was heartwarming to imagine your baby seeing all these someday.

Your attention soon turned to the box Megumi handed you earlier—Naoya's gift.

You were intrigued, because what could your spiteful ex-husband could possibly give you? And you immediately reached over to open the lid to find...

"What's that?" Shoko asked as your eyes widened in slight surprise.

Inside the box was an intricate gold and ruby necklace. One you knew well. The very one you wore during your coronation as the Empress of the Eastern Empire.

Years ago, Naoya himself had chosen this piece for you, and now he was gifting it to you, again?

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

Reliving years of your marriage with him wasn't easy. You two were childhood sweethearts, and had been happy in the beginning. You couldn't pinpoint when things began to fall apart, but suddenly Naoya turned into such a person you didn't recognize altogether.

Seeing this relic made you nostalgic, and before you realized it, you touched it, trying to get a better look—

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a sharp, unexpected pain shot through your abdomen. You instantly dropped the jewelry, letting it crash to the ground, and clutched your lower belly.

"Empress! What happened?!" Shoko rushed to your side in an instant, holding you up, and you whimpered.

"It hurts—!" Your breath hitched, as a seemingly invisible knife gutted you from inside. The intensity of the pain was overwhelming, leaving you gasping for breath. "Shoko, please—"

And before you could even scream or think, the pain blindsided you and your vision titled, before blacking out completely.

First came the warmth, then a reassuring squeeze on your hand. As your consciousness returned, you felt groggy, with your surroundings sharpening into focus.

The first thing that became your main focus the moment your eyes fluttered open was Satoru's face, a mixture of fright and relief etched across his features.

"You're awake..." He breathlessly muttered, sitting on your bedside, interlacing his fingers with yours. "How do you feel?"

"Sa...toru..." your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and as soon as he heard you speak, he exhaled sharply, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Heavens, I—" he let out a long sigh, his breath hot against your neck. "I'm so glad... you are..."

"What h-happened to me...?" you were feeling feverish and a dull throb was pounding at the back of your head, before the shock of it all dawned on you. "B-baby...! Our—!"

"Baby is okay too, don't worry," Satoru assured, pulling away from you to gently touch your cheek and squeeze your hand. "Both of you are fine for now..."

The horror that you might lose your baby shook you to the very core. Your vision blurred with the threatening onset of tears.

"Wh-at happened to me, Satoru...?" you asked again as he wiped your first falling tears, your heartbeat sounding so loud in your ears. "I-I was just..."

His expression took on a sudden shift, as if a dark cloud had passed over his face.

"You came into contact with a cursed object," he stated, his eyes hard as he locked onto yours. "You were cursed, Y/N."

"What...?" You were rendered speechless, feeling your body starting to shake. Cursed object? Your past coronation necklace?

Naoya was trying to curse you?

"It's okay, I'm here now, yeah?" Satoru's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, grounding you in the present. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he repeated, his deep blue eyes locking onto yours with intensity.

“I’m here. I’m here with you. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will touch you so long as I’m here.”

But in that moment, your mind was so overwhelmed with fear for yourself and your unborn baby that you couldn't fully grasp the magnitude of the mess unfolding before you, and you just cried in his arms.

Feeling your feeble fingers fisting his robes and your inconsolable tears staining his collar, Satoru gritted his teeth.

“This won't happen again,” he whispered into your hair, feeling his rage simmering as he felt the tremors of your sobs against his chest. “I swear, I won't let anything like this happen again.”

To Satoru, that was more than enough to justify all his subsequent actions. Putting a curse on his empress essentially amounted to an act of beginning a war.

And it also meant he no longer had to operate behind the scenes.

“Keep them in Clock Tower. No contact. Only food and water at designated times.”

Satoru's icy gaze on the captain of royal guard compelled him to hastily comply with the order, before his eyes landing on the map of the entire continent.

In response to the incident that befell you, he issued orders for open hostility along the eastern and western borders. Soon after, he would formally declare his intention to go to war.

So close. He was so close to achieving his end goal.

. . .

"Satoru!"

Several days later, Suguru burst into his study, visibly outraged. He clenched his fists, looking as if he was about to throttle him altogether.

"You—" he heaved a harsh breath. "You have gone too far!"

"What are you talking about, Suguru?"

"Is cursing the entire winery village not enough for you?" This was the first time Suguru had been this furious with him. "Did you really have to massacre the neighboring district as well?!"

"They have placed a curse on my empress." It was so easy for him to say it. "Anyone who dares to harm her shall die."

"You can direct it at Zen'in Naoya! Not the innocent civilians!"

Satoru remained silent, neither shaken nor enraged, and he had finally had enough.

“Are you even sure it’s because the empress is cursed?" Suguru challenged. In his view, this farce had been going on too long.

“No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You were informed, days later.

“His Majesty has placed the prince and royal consort of the Western Empire under strict watch in Clock Tower.”

Clock Tower was essentially the prison where they kept war criminals. Learning that Satoru had confined both Megumi and Hanabi there left you aghast.

After some days of bedrest and getting better, you realized that the entire situation still didn't make sense to you. As hateful as Naoya was, harming you would do him more harm than good. Eastern and Western Empires stood evenly matched in military power, and hence, a conflict between them would bring devastation to both sides.

And moreover, you knew for sure was that Megumi was definitely not the one responsible for this. He was just a boy!

You had to let him out somehow. You had to talk to Satoru about this.

Or at least that was what you thought when you came close to his study.

“Are you even sure it's because the empress is cursed? No, Satoru. You are just using her. For so long, you have wanted to bring bloodshed to Western Empire. You were almost there when Empress Y/N proposed that deal to marry you.”

You stopped on your tracks—stunned into place, to be exact.

“And you’ve struck gold when she did because her influence will provide you with greater advantage.” Suguru scoffed then, lightly shaking his head with a sneer. “Love? How laughable. All these years, you are planning your warpath, how could you claim you love her when you're trying to ravage her homeland without even considering the impact it would have on her?”

It felt like whiplash. Geto Suguru's voice had your feet rooted to the spot, causing all your doubts to resurface and sizzle in an instant. The very question you had tried to avoid, it was suddenly shoved in your face.

What... will Satoru say? Your heart thumped so loud in your ears it made you almost stagger. He couldn't possibly. He simply couldn't. All his actions... they reflected his affection for you and you believed it because you felt it yourself too.

But Satoru's next response was—

“Even when she is derided as the devil, I will bring an end to the Zen’in line in this lifetime.”

And a part of your heart withers then.

The tips of your fingers trembled, finally taking in everything that you had tried to ignore for the past few weeks. It all caught up to you in one overwhelming rush.

Suddenly, it felt as if something inside your chest was torn out and held up for you to see.

"I'm telling you, that day will come sooner than you think, Satoru." Suguru's voice broke through, his frustration palpable. His words snapped you out of your reverie, and you took a step back, retreating to the safety of your study.

The first time you felt utter hollowness wrecking you was when you had suspected that Naoya might have taken Hanabi to his bed. The feelings overwhelming you now were eerily similar to how you felt back then.

Only in this case…

You had used him first, and if he used you in return... you couldn't fault him.

But isn't it still a bitter truth, even when a mutual transaction is very well within his rights, to know that what you believe as love may apparently not really be the case?

Love... of course, he loves you.

Of that, he was certain.

But at the same time… he had his ambitions.

Destroying the Eastern Empire. Was it so wrong that he wanted it? Didn't you want this as well? After all, Naoya had spurned you for a lowly servant and made your life hell, didn’t he?

Satoru strolled through the halls and made his way to your study, where the sight of you, so pretty and regal in your seat, greeted him.

His beautiful, graceful wife and empress of his nation. For so long, he had desired you, and now here you were, perched within his walls. His heart couldn't be more full— his life is complete already.

"Sweetheart, hey... how are you feeling today?" an adoring grin was visible on his face as he approached you. "Does the baby give you trouble today?"

You didn't answer though, and didn't look at him either. It was quite strange, Satoru thought.

"What's wrong? Is there something—" And when you finally turned to him, the look in your eyes was so eerily cold it almost gave him a chill.

"Release Megumi from your dungeon," you told him with a strained tone. "And return him to his home empire."

The smile on Satoru's face vanished that instant.

"I can't do that."

You rose from your seat, facing him. "He is just a child."

Satoru regarded you with a stern look. “That child you speak about is a prince of the Eastern Empire. He has committed a great crime against you.”

“Naoya didn’t do it.” Your steely gaze was unflinching. “He might be senseless, but he isn’t insane enough to deliberately go into a war he might possibly lose.”

Satoru's eyes darkened at your words, as you stood before him with determination. The way you were so adamant somehow took him aback. “How... could you defend him? He has wronged you!”

It was one question you had expected, and you had the answer ready.

“Even if he has, I could never wish doom upon my own homeland, Satoru. I’ve lived most of my life there, I did a great deal of things there— even if you harbor some sort of misguided contempt or just bloodthirsty enough to lay ruin to Eastern Empire, I refuse to be the puppet for your schemes!”

There it was. You had said it. Everything would crumble once again just like your previous marriage.

Satoru was staring at you in slight disbelief, his eyes gleamed with something that you couldn't really pinpoint. Anger? Disappointment?

“Your life was in danger, as was our unborn child’s. Don’t you care about that—!” he actually had to stop to catch his breath. “Don’t you care that our child nearly didn't make it?”

“And? You must have thought it was the perfect grounds for declaring a war?” but you didn’t relent and questioned him with a scoff. “And afterwards, you would try to use me to gain defectors from Eastern Empire, is that it?”

You saw the flash of surprise in your now-husband's eyes right when you recited his words, but you weren't about to hold back any longer now.

“Now you’re using my safety to justify your actions,” you hissed, feeling like suddenly you understood what all of this was. “You’re quite cunning, Satoru. I’ve heard everything—you will do anything to bring an end to the Zen'in lineage! You won’t even consider the repercussions of my reputation being tarnished across the lands!”

“Is that even important now?” Satoru gritted his teeth to suppress his irritation. “You have been cursed. Do you honestly think I would let them get away with cursing my empress? How could I, who seek to protect you, be more vicious than whoever in Eastern Empire who cursed you with that necklace?”

“You’re doing this for your personal gratification!” you exclaimed. “It is never about me. You’re just a warmonger!”

The moment those words left your lips, Satoru stilled. His gaze on you faltered, and you could’ve sworn hurt flashed in his face.

“Just how low… is your opinion of me?” he asked, his tone dropping, eyes devoid of emotion. “You jump into conclusions only after overhearing something in a passing and yet you know for sure Naoya wouldn’t harm you��” he clenched his jaw.

“You… really loved him, didn’t you?” he asked with a sardonic smile. “I know it already. You won’t ever be able to do the same for me. You can’t even trust me.”

You were rendered speechless. Despite your doubts of him, hearing this still felt like a slap in your face.

Won’t be able to do the same for him? No. That’s not true. You are—

Satoru let out a defeated laugh and ran his hand through his hair, leaving you uncertain whether he was amused or heartbroken by your lack of response.

“It’s funny, how I have loved you for so long... but apparently the woman I believed to have even a semblance of affection for me doesn’t even exist.”

It felt like that one part of you that was capable of feeling love had been stabbed once again.

To say this out loud hurt you deeply, unbeknownst to him. You didn’t mean this at all, still it was what came out of you, out of spite—

“In the end, we’re just using each other. That’s all we amount to.”

Satoru bitterly snorted, finding your accusation so unfair to him.

“How cruel is it that I’m the only one who has to prove this love to you? What about you? You’re terribly, horribly selfish!”

You stayed silent, looking away, caught between the scorching knives that seemed to twist your heart and conflicting emotions in it, uncertain of what to believe anymore. And you didn't really know what heartbreak was like before—

“It has been really exhausting, and I don’t want to bother anymore.”

When his gaze next met yours, dark and piercing, you realized he was no longer the same man who once promised you love and devotion.

“You're free to believe whatever truth you wish. But remember, even if you are my wife and the empress of this nation, should you commit any transgressions… I won’t hesitate to accuse you of treason, Empress.”

You have committed treason.

Satoru had conducted investigation of the sorts just to prove his point. And yet days later, no direct evidence pointing towards Megumi or Hanabi were found in that cursed necklace.

Punishment for treason is imminent death. You were well-aware of that more than anyone, but your consciousness wouldn't allow it if Megumi had to be hanged due to Satoru's antagonism.

"Your Majesty, your kindness knows no bounds," Megumi said, dropping to one knee before you and lowering his head in the throne room. Satoru had chosen not to grace any of you with his presence, leaving you alone to bid farewell to both Megumi and Hanabi.

Since then, you hadn't spoken with him, nor had he visited your chambers. It was as if he considered you nonexistent at all.

And it is really only a matter of time before he finds out.

But at the very least, you were right. It was never Megumi. That boy was fond of you, he could never. So, you shifted your gaze on the woman next to him.

"Royal Consort Hanabi. A word."

It was the cue for everyone else to exit the throne room. Now, you were faced with this woman once again, and yet one thing remained the same— you were still towering over her.

"Why did you do it?" Your calm gaze betrayed a quiet anger that was unmistakably clear. All because of this woman. It was beyond you, how despite having left your past life behind, she had somehow managed to taint your new one as well.

Hanabi looked away, a hint of shame coloring her features. "Your Majesty knows, so why do you spare me?" she asked quietly.

"How preposterous of you to think that I have spared you," you scoffed. "All this time, have you learned nothing at all from standing by Naoya's side?"

She flinched, visibly making herself smaller at your unforgiving tone, still, she dared herself to meet your eyes.

"Can I ask... why you never consider it as Emperor Naoya's doing?" she seemed more confused more than anything, even as her lips wobbled. "The two of you... you don't really hate each other, so why...?"

You didn't want to dwell on why Naoya had chosen that specific piece of jewelry to return to you. If anything, you'd consider it his final parting gift and be done with it.

But the naivety of this woman was astounding. Someone like her wouldn't last long in your seat. You let out a sigh, torn between feeling sorry for her or not.

"You have much to learn about court affairs, Hanabi. And do not think this is an act of mercy. Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

Hanabi trembled where she stood, her breaths were shallow, and her hands shook slightly as she struggled to maintain composure in your presence.

Realizing it was futile to continue the conversation, you decided to conclude it.

"Know that I will never forgive you for what you have done to me." Your sharp eyes squared on her, the cold ire in your tone making her shudder.

In all the years Hanabi had known you, you had never appeared more fearsome than you did now, adorned in silks of deep blue hues, with that crown of diamonds gleaming in your head.

Then, as if sealing her fate, you delivered these parting words:

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

The palace felt suffocating for you. After sending Hanabi away, you took a walk in the gardens, followed closely by your ladies-in-waiting.

Good heavens, what have you done? You definitely didn't regret saving Megumi, but no matter how, you had committed a great crime against your own empire. A sentence would loom over your head!

And what about your baby? Would Satoru execute you while you still had his child inside you?

The very thought made your vision tilt, and you had to lean on the wall for support. Your ladies-in-waiting were immediately clamoring against each other.

"Leave," you commanded, trying to catch your breath while doing so. "I'll… take some time to rest here."

It took you a moment to realize you had reached the pagoda that Satoru had commissioned for you. This was your first time visiting it. The structure was magnificent, towering in height and adorned with exquisite decorations, leaving you in awe.

"It's a gift to the heavens for blessing me with you and our baby."

You wanted to cry. His voice, soft and smooth, conveyed those words so easily to you. He really loved you, didn't he? What made you so unsure about that undeniable fact?

And now you had broken his heart.

Your hand reached for your belly. Though hidden by your dress, you could distinctly feel that it had become firmer these days, holding the product of your love with Satoru.

"I'm sorry, baby..." you whispered, heartbroken. "I didn't mean to drag you into this too..."

You felt nauseous, your breaths come in short pants, and you felt a headache coming. It didn't really register to you that you had crashed into the candle table, before you collected yourself and ventured deeper inside.

You just wanted a sense of peace and quiet. You would think more later, and right now, the darkness inside felt like a comforting lull for you to rest.

. . .

Or at least that was what you had intended, until you looked back and saw the swirling inferno creeping through the halls.

It didn't take long for Satoru to figure out you had really orchestrated Megumi's release.

More than his wounded pride, it was the searing pain of realizing that you truly believed he was only using you for his own benefit. It felt like an insult to everything he had done for you.

Why couldn't you see that? Just how hard is it for you to understand?

And now that it had come to this... what did you expect from him? Should he really make good on his word and punish you? It tore his heart to even consider it.

However, what was worse was… did you think he was really capable of that too?

Amidst his heartache, suddenly he heard loud commotion from outside his study, yells and cries of help— and it roused him from his thoughts that he came out of his study, only to come right into a familiar face.

"Anyone! Anyone at all!" one of your maids was running, sobbing and hysterical. "Her Majesty! Please help Her Majesty!"

"What is all of this ruckus?" Satoru demanded, catching the maid by the hand, as she stuttered in tears.

And then, everything came crashing down with the next words.

"The Empress— is trapped inside the burning tower!"

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[sacredsorceress]

Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist

It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

-

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

-

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

[yueebby]

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom. 

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy. 

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap. 

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

me

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

me

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in. 

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

me

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats.  honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru. 

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room. 

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired. 

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi. 

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.” 

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence.  his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!” 

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[wileys-russo]

Alessia, "I didn't cheat on you, it was just a dream babe!", mad alessia at training

disloyal dreams II a.russo

"-are you going to be like this all day?" you sighed as you tried to start a conversation with the blonde beside you who shrugged, again refusing to give you any sort of verbal response.

"alessia. the silent treatment, really?" you repeated, eyes burning into the side of her head as she shrugged and you dragged your hands down your face exhaling heavily.

"i thought we were good at communication. we've been together for a year and a half!" you reminded, alessia dead silent as her fingers drummed against the steering wheel and she came to a stop at a red light.

"less, babe will you just tell me what i've done wrong? i can't fix it if i don't know what i did!" you groaned frustrated, the blonde only leaning forward and turning up the stereo louder making you wince.

"fine, be like this then." you grumbled with a shake of your head, crossing your arms and staring out the window, knowing her well enough that the striker when warranted could be incredibly stubborn.

though the problem you were having today is you weren't even sure where this grudge she had against you was coming from. you'd gone to bed and things were all fine and normal, the pair of you ordering in and falling asleep cuddled up together watching a movie in the living room as you often did.

you'd woken up first, slowly shaking the taller girl on top of you until she did too and the two of you had stumbled tiredly to bed. her long limbs entrapping you in her hold the moment your backs hit the mattress, eyes heavy and a few sleepy kisses exchanged, all seemed fine.

but then this morning you'd woken up to an empty bed, frowning right away as alessia was almost never the first one awake between you.

in fact over the time you'd been together even before you'd moved in with her whenever you slept over at alessia's you'd learned to set your alarm a half an hour earlier than either of you had to be up because it took that long to coax the sleepy blonde to actually get up.

your confusion only grew further when a quick search of the house showed it to be empty, your calls out for your girlfriend going unanswered both vocal and on the phone, a sense of worry beginning to settle in.

however right before it really hit its peak you heard keys in the front door, racing down the stairs and breathing out in relief when she stepped inside, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat and hair pulled back into a bun.

you tried to speak to her and draw her into a hug, mumbling ut you'd been worried sick and asking why she hadn't at least left a note or sent a text but all you got was a shrug and a grumble she needed a shower.

ever since then the most your girlfriend had said was maybe three words, the rest of her responses all grunts or hums as at first you thought maybe she hadn't slept well and was just tired.

though then it started to feel a lot more personal and as much as you'd asked and asked and asked, she wouldn't tell you just why she was so seemingly upset with you or what you'd done to earn such a stubborn silence.

pulling into the training grounds you tried again to ask if the two of you could talk, trying to angle that it wasn't healthy to go into training if she was in a bad head space but all that resulted in was a door closed in your face and a rap of her knuckles against your window a moment later, wordlessly telling you to hurry up.

despite the fact alessia could be one of the most sweet, kind and downright lovely human beings you'd ever had the pleasure to know let alone fall in love with, she still had her share of off day but normally she was quite good at hiding them from your teammates.

today however she didn't seem to care in the slightest, making no move to disguise the fact she wasn't talking to you and clearly was in a mood, the tension thick and uncomfortable as you stared at her longingly across the change rooms.

"mate. what did you do to that poor girl?" leah flopped herself down in her own cubby beside you as you sighed, alessia not even sparing you a glance as she laced her boots up and stormed out, ignoring both emily and lotte who tried to stop and speak with her clearly sensing she wasn't okay.

"nothing! well at least not that i can work out? i've been given the silent treatment all morning." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, wrestling to undo the tight knots in your boots and sending kyra a venemous glare across the room who was clearly the culprit.

but sensing maybe today was not the day to have pushed your buttons the australian was quick to shrink beneath your murderous stare, taking off out of the room within seconds flat.

"give it here." leah chuckled, having already undone your other boot as you shoved it at her and sunk down into your seat, stroppy look on your face and mouth turned downward into a sour pout.

"did you have an argument?" "no." "did you not do something you said you would?" "I don't think so?" "did you forget an anniversary? birthday? special date?" "definitely not." "did you..." leah trailed off, clearly trying to think of something to say.

"nah i've got nothing. good luck sunshine!" the blonde shrugged, pinching your cheek and handing you the now untangled boot. "leah!" you groaned, hoping for the older girl to at least have had perhaps some wisdom to offer.

throughout the day your confusion only grew when the stony silence continued, the two of you at least kept mostly separate for the majority of training, having grown embarrassed now by your shut down attempts to talk to alessia.

thankfully bar a few ill timed comments from some of your younger peers who hadn't yet learnt how to read a room everyone backed off the teasing you'd been worried about, most of them just as confused as you by the air of frustration and irritation radiating off the blonde striker.

"fucking hell less!" leah swore, barely able to duck out of the way of a poorly timed but incredibly powerful strike which rocketed past her ear and swooshed into the back of the goal.

you however were not so lucky, admittedly quite out of it most of the session as your brain ticked over and you overthought every little action and interaction you'd had with the blonde in the last twenty four hours.

it was this distraction which caused you to have zoned out on the sidelines, staring off into space and triple checking in your head every significant event and date to try and work out just why your girlfriend was so clearly off with you.

but you were grounded right back into reality when suddenly something hit you very hard and very fast right in the face, the unexpected ball knocking you on your ass as you felt something wet drip down your face and you started to feel a little woozy.

you watched as both your teammates and some of the staff crowded around you, seeing their mouths moving but unable to decipher what was being said due to the obnoxious ringing in your head.

the medics eventually arrived, shooing everyone away to give you some space and a collective slightly disgusted groan sounded as suddenly you lurched forward and emptied the contents of your breakfast onto the grass beside you.

you winced as a bright light was shone right in your eyes, trying to bat away the hand responsible as someone else grabbed your wrists and stopped you.

blinking a few times as finally the light went away and your hearing returned right in time to hear one word before you were helped to your feet and walked off the pitch.

concussion.

you sighed heavily but nodded as you laid down on one of the padded benches in the medic office, the lights dim and one of the trainee's running you through the concussion protocol you knew like the back of your hand.

with a heavy sigh you felt him squeeze your knee in a silent apology before ducking out to grab some paperwork, an incident report needing to be done as you covered your face with your hands and felt your heartbeat thump in your ears.

when you heard the door open again you assumed he'd returned and you might be cleared to leave, but to your surprise when you looked up there was a different person now looking down on you, your bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand.

you didn't expect her to say anything and you didn't have it in you for an argument, so with a grunt you pulled yourself into a seated position, her hands quick to steady you and you hated how good it felt to feel her touch even in such a minimal way.

"you cheated on me."

your head snapped up so fast you felt your neck throb and the headache settling behind your eyes pulse as you sat in a state of shock, sure you'd just heard her incorrectly.

"i-what?" you managed to croak out, the blonde fiddling with the strap of the bag as she nodded. "you cheated on me." she repeated and just like earlier you felt a horrendous sense of nausea settle in.

"i think i'm going to be sick." you began to panic, bile rising in your throat as you looked around desperately for a sick bag of some sort as alessia's hands settled on your cheeks and you tensed up.

"you cheated on me last night." she repeated in a tone so soft you almost didn't hear her, incredibly confused and now wondering just how hard you'd hit your head as you blinked.

"alessia. what? i-baby i would never ever chea-" you couldn't even get the words out until the blonde shook her head, one of her hands coming to cover your mouth, an odd look of guilt now present on her face which had you even more confused.

"in my dream, last night. you cheated on me in my dream, that's why i've been so off with you today..." the blonde bit her bottom lip with a wince as you paused, slowly moving her hands off of you as she shifted nervously.

"i didn't cheat on you." "no." "but you thought i did?" "kind of? i know it was a dream, but it felt really real!"

"alessia..." you trailed off in disbelief, the trainee from earlier taking one step inside as the pair of you looked at him and clearly sensing he might have been interrupting he quickly ducked back out of the room with a mumble you were free to go.

"i still think you should say sorry." the blonde seemed to regain her confidence as your jaw dropped and you looked at her in bewilderment. "for what?" you squeaked out, alessia sighing and shaking her head.

"for cheating on me." "i didn't cheat on you? it was just a dream babe!" you threw your hands up with a scoff and hissed, your head throbbing as your eyes squeezed shut.

"okay. well since you have a concussion, i'll forgive you anyway." alessia decided, stepping forward to stand in between your legs and giving you a smile as if she'd just done you a favour.

"you'll forgive me?" "yes. now baby we should really get you home, i've got your concussion plan and you have to come in tomorrow for a re-assessment." alessia nodded, patting your bag and holding our a hand to help you up as you stared at her with narrowed eyes.

"you'll forgive me. for ignoring me all day and making me feel like i've done the wrong thing? like i'm the the crazy one?" you stuttered out still in shock that this was the reason for her cold shoulder and off put behavior.

"hey! you can't use that." alessia snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into your bag with a tut. "i need it." you held your hand out expectantly and rolled your eyes as your girlfriend had the audacity to laugh.

"for what?" she questioned as you smacked away her attempted helping hands and she frowned.

"because i need to write a note." "a note?" "yes alessia. a note that when my head isn't absolutely throbbing i am going to yell at you and then give you the silent treatment all day!"

"what! baby why? you cheated on me, and i forgave you?" "i cannot control my actions in a dream alessia, and so i didn't cheat on you!" "baby you shouldn't get so worked up, you'll make your headache worse." "dating you is a headache russo." "...so is now a bad time to ask for that apology?" "it was a dream alessia!"