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jinxedmuse · 5 months

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best friend - lee sohee, 이소희

in which: your best friend sohee offers a "no strings attached" relief from the stress of your relationship but finds himself falling in too deep.

an: don't know if you guys have listened to sohee's playlist but he has a lot of romantic songs on there, mainly best friends to lovers centric or heartbroken ones and it made me want him even more..

warnings: cheating, accidental overstimulation, rough sub!sohee, multiple orgasms, lots of whining and begging from sohee, lowk manipulative, degradation, pet names, oral, sohee is older than reader by like 4 months, reader's bf is eunseok...

playlist: sex eden, get up newjeans, like you do joji, to. ex taeyeon, i feel it coming wknd

wc: 2.1k... been going feral over sohee the last couple of days, had to get it out my system, consider this my comeback?

movie nights at your place on friday were a mandatory tradition you've had with your best friend, lee sohee for over five years.

this year, due to a recent (almost a year) addition to your life (a boyfriend) the sense of freedom that came with this night significantly decreased. what was supposed to be a night to catch up with your best friend, free of stress from external sources had turned into check-ins with your boyfriend every hour or so and an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and sohee, physically as well.

this wasn't necessarily because your boyfriend saw sohee as a threat, i mean, he looked like a mini duck you win at a fair or something. sohee is shy but humorous, mischievous but respectful. yet your boyfriend always felt like something was (in his words) "off" about how sohee always stuck at your side sometimes s little too literally and close for comfort.

you dismissed it, insisting your close relationship had stemmed from a bond built off being relentlessly teased together since high school. that, "sohee isn't like that. we're just best friends is all. trust me" you'd say, fully believing yourself as well, because how could your relationship ever change after 5 years?

easy.

you were currently sending your boyfriend his 3rd "update" within the past hour. you hear a loud sigh coming from sohee's side of the couch. you finish sending your text before looking up.

"i know, i know. sorry, you know how he is, just overprotective is all" you say in defense, already knowing what your best friend was about to complain about.

sohee doesn't face you, instead, laser-focused on the movie you both were barely even watching. trying to ignore the heavy change in dynamic ever since you got into a relationship.

"i know" he starts whining, twisting the hem of the throw cover that was over his lower half, a heavy feeling in his heart. "it's just that we hardly get to hang out together as it is, and when we do you're glued to your phone."

you weighed on his words while looking at him. his voice was soft and shaky but showed no signs of tears in his eyes. his beauty marks scattered all around his face, some trailing in his collarbones and ears. fueled by a sudden pang of guilt you toss your phone onto the table in front of you and crawl over to shoes side of the couch. earning a sly smile from the smaller-framed boy.

"this close? how scandalous" he jokes, opening up the throw cover so you can get underneath it with him. safe distance, of course. you sling an arm around him immediately earning a groaned laugh as he tries to push you off. you tussle his hair until his grip gurns into more of a pained restrict with one hand and he lands you onto your back.

sohee is now on top of you, both his legs at each of your sides, his necklace, part of the set the two of you had although you haven't been wearing yours recently hanging in front of your face. his oversized shirt that was a little too big for him leaving a gap between the collar and his neck, chest slightly exposes.

you were too engulfed in his scent, clean laundry, one you've always found comforting, to realize he was full-on staring at your lips. a hard-on slowly forming and straining against his cargo pants.

"why do you keep forgetting i'm older than you, huh?" he teases. the truth is sohee is older than you by 4 months. however, when you first met (since you were already in the same grade) you were so adamant about dropping honorifics. insisting that technically you were "same-age friends."

once you realize he's staring at your lips your mouth goes dry, and you push out a forced laugh. trying to ignore the heat coming from between your legs, suddenly realizing how heavy he feels on top of you. You couldn't bring yourself to push sohee off despite how wrong it was. this was still innocent, right?

"i didn't forget," you say, your own eyes now stuck on his pink lips "i just don't care." you tease back, trying to overturn the situation but his grip remains steady, not letting you get up. just feeble squirms now and then.

“do you not see me as a man?” he asked, it was practically a whimper the way it came out so whiny. you giggle at this, not taking the boy on top of you seriously.

he tilts his head, sizing you up and down. eyes stopping right at your boobs, your nipples hard and visible through your thin shirt. he shifts his weight so that now he's sitting directly on top of you. his bulge that was now rock hard right over your heat. "don't you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asked innocently.

you feel like a spell had been cast on you, his slight pressure on your cunt caused it to flex around nothing, aching to be touched but you couldn't do that to your boyfriend. you shake your head in disagreement. "what do you mean sohee, and why are you still on me idiot" you ask jokingly, trying to lighten the tension in the room now. the movie was long forgotten.

"oh cmon' he starts again, "don't you ever get bored of" he gets interrupted by your phone ringing, a special tone you had set for only your boyfriend. it was starting to piss sohee off.

why was his precious time with you always getting interrupted by your insolent waste of a boyfriend? "of that" he grunted out, dipping so that his member was now grinding down on you. you hold back your moans, throwing your head back. ashamed at the amount of pleasure you felt.

this isn't right, you tried to reason with yourself. you have a boyfriend, sohee is your best friend, but fuck, does it feel good the way he was messily rutting himself against you. dry humpin' you.

"sohee." you managed to choke out through moans "this isn't right" you object, fighting your hands from going up and pulling him closer to you.

"it's not cheating if you don't do anything back, just let me make you feel good please, huh princess? don't you remember how good i was? don't you want to know how much i improved" he asks, leaving slopping kisses down your neck, his slim hands roaming all over your body, tugging at your clothes.

he was currently referring to back what happened on a hot summer day during freshmen year up in your old tree house that barely fit the growing bodies of two best friends. you can still remember how hot it was, sweat sticking to your bodies before you had even started anything.

your frames uncomfortable in the one-size-too-small tree house, it was awkward, but it felt so sexy back then, and yet as soon as he was done, the reality of what you had done hit you and you couldn't look at each other for a week once school started.

once you got over it, you vowed to never do something as reckless to your friendship as that again.

2 years later during senior year, you fucked. you were each other's first, and you both wanted to "get it out the way" as college was right at your doorsteps. the nerve-wracking idea of losing it to some stranger didn't make sense, right? i mean what better way to lose it than in the back of your first car, during the first snow of winter, with your best friend, for your first time?

you had both pushed it aside. vowing it was just to not be behind your college peers and to never speak of it again. not wanting to add to the statics of why "men and women can't be friends", whatever that meant. sohee entered and left a few relationships after that. always breaking them off because he got bored after a certain point. he was single right now, opposite to you who was in a relationship.

this was wrong. every fiber of your being knew it was wrong but it was the first time you and sohee were alone together in a while. His eyes were full of lust, everything about him currently oozed sex appeal and you wanted him badly. there was no denying that with the way your cunt kept clamming around nothing, begging for attention.

sohee takes one of his hands and brings it down to your cunt, the heat he feels coming from it is almost instant. "look at you, acting like you don’t want it but you’re so fucking turned on right now" he says as he rubs his hand onto your clothed cunt.

you bite your lip, holding back a moan at his vulgar words. "it's a normal bodily reaction if you’re practically humping me, i have a boyfriend." you beg, eyes leading yet your body betraying you every time he gently rubs your pussy.

"who do love more?" he asks getting closer, “my boyfriend" you pathetically strain out at a last attempt to redeem yourself for doing this. he licks your ear lov slowly, biting the too which earns a moan from you before trailing back down to your neck with small wet pecks. his hand was still on your cunt and you were now grinding onto it.

"who makes you feel better huh? me?" he asks when he gets to your breast, he removes his hand from your cunt earning a desperate mewl from you, immediately missing his touch on you.

"look at you, rutting your desperate little pussy to get some relief from your best friend, but you expect me to believe you love your boyfriend? huh, whore?" he growls in between sloppy kisses and sucks to your nipple, twisting them every time you shook your head to try and tried to deny his (very true) allegations.

he watches as your back arches from the sofa a bit, his aching cock begging to be freed but he isn't satisfied yet. he takes the other hand that was holding both of yours up and brings it down to your cunt, slipping into your extremely short shorts and going over your delicate panties

you were already wet, his fingers slipping against your puffy lips way too easily. “look at you~~~~" he says in a mocking tone, "all wet for me, baby? beg and i’ll make you feel good" he taunts unto your ear. you nod your head immediately "please sohee, f-fuck i need you to touch me"

"i’m sorry slut, what was that?"

you chase his fingers, eyes teary at his teasing "please, hee fuck me" you cry in desperation, nails digging into his shirt, pulling him closer.

at this point, you were too horny to care about how desperate you seemed, becoming an incoherent mess full of whining and begging.

sohee falls completely apart, drooling at your blubbering mess, he likes two of his slim digits, pointer, and middle finger, and thrust them into your throbbing cunt, curling them slightly,

your back arches almost completely off the couch, both your hands gripping his forearms in pure bliss, eyes shut in concentration on how good it all feels.

his slim digits entering and exiting you with such precision and a bit of roughness, curling up in all the right spots had you panting excessively, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead.

the faster and harsher he went, occasionally bringing his yup to play with your budded clit, you clam harder around him. suffocating his fingers, they dragged out of you in a way that made you see stars when you were dizzy.

"fuck-fuck, hee i think, nghnnn, i'm about to, fuck, come" you wring it, spit at the side of your mouth from it being slack open as you moaned underneath him, chest heaving up and down

your pathetic state doesn't take away from sohee's own though; he's as much of a whining, moaning mess as you are. his head all foggy from how pretty you looked underneath him, sweat coating your soft skin as your puffy lips were wrapped around his fingers. his member was practically budging out of his pants, beads forming on his forehead in concentration but last minute he got an idea.

he pulls out his fingers with a swiftness that makes you practically cry. your eyes snap open, a pout as you look at him. confused at this sudden action. "let me stuff myself inside you and then taste your cum, huh? what do you think about that princess~~" he asks in his usual teasing voice. moments like this when he was giving you brain fog you remembered he was your best friend.

but that didn't matter right now, you needed to be fucked dumb. so you just nod your head like a pathetic bitch in heat and he smiles, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers.

his dick is now free and you almost faint at the sight. he was clean-shaven, with balls the perfect size for you to cup in your hand. he wasn't huge or even too thick but he was long, long, and veiny, his dick was a light hue of pink while his tip was beaming red. streams of pre cum endlessly flowing out. you moaned at the sight, looking at it with begging eyes.

he's satisfied with your reaction, knowing you hadn't seen it since that night two years ago during senior year in the back seat of your car. he suddenly felt like he was on top of the world, an ego boost surging through him as he watched how you looked at his member longingly.

he gives his dick a few pumps over your cunt, his cum leaking onto you, "you want me to stuff you baby? all bare while you have a man waiting for your call?"

his questions bring heat to your cheeks, God you were such an asshole for this but you needed sohee so desperately you felt like you were going to cry if you didn't have him inside you. you watch the way his cum leaks into you as he's pumping himself above you and you find yourself subconsciously bringing up your lower body so your cunt could meet up.

he pushes you back down, a smirk on his face

"be patient, it's the least a whore could do" with one last painful squeeze he takes both your legs and put them onto his shoulders, he aligns himself with your core and spit on his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before inserting his tip into you.

you let out an animalistic mewl at how much pleasure that simple act gave you but you barely have any time to adjust yourself before he slams himself fully into you

you try to pull back away, but the pressure was too much, you looked down and felt like you could see his cock slamming in and out of you. it was so slim and long that it hit all the right places on the first try. your chest was heaving up and down the same way it did after you ran a marathon or chased after your bus. the amount of pleasure you were experiencing was driving you crazy, he pulled you back in by your waist, eyebrows furrowed.

you felt so full like you were about to pee. "I can't; fuck i'm-close can't take it" you cry out trying out again to back up but he takes both his hands and cozily and pushes himself deeper into you, he hit the spot that makes you cum and as if on the command you do exactly that. a mix of squirting and creamy come going all over his balls and coating his base, even getting on his toned stomach. fuck he was in love

the sight of you coming and moaning all because of him has him doing the same, he holds your waist in position and cums in you, not pulling out until you were full of every last drop of his seed. you felt yourself practically getting filled up as if you had just eaten. the feeling was pure ecstasy, your boyfriend always pulled out even when you begged.

you stare at each other for a moment, what was once lust got replaced by something else which stirred a desire in the pits of your stomach. you get interrupted by the rining if that special tone once more, you start to reach for it but sohee grabs your hand and slams it down next to you.

"don't," he says sternly. it was supposed to sound like a command but it almost sounded like he was begging, pleading for your attention to stay on him. you nodded with starry eyes, still coming down from the incredible high he had just given you.

he crouches down and you sit up halfway on your elbows sorta confused, suddenly he pulls your in and hurridly barries his face into your cunt. it started a lot romantic as if he were making out with your cunt. delicate kisses to your inter thigh, slower pulling on your lips, and tender licks on your clit. you sigh in bliss, but you lose your balance when he strikes his tongue into your core, a finger at your clit playing with it in a circular motion that has you moaning profanities.

his tongue would occasionally go flat to slurp up the combination of both your juices, your cum mixed was now coated on his tongue and around his offy pink lips, he ate you out like he was a starved animal. his grip on your hip grew firmer the more you moaned his name. his dick was now slightly hard again and he found himself pathetically rutting against the couch as he ate you out to offer himself some form of relief.

you come again, this time in his mouth and he doesn't waste a second licking up all your wetness, moaning at how good you taste, drowning you in praises for coming for him twice. your leg was shaking, toes curled at the overstimulation when suddenly siri starts reading out loud a recent message sent 1 minute ago:

"eunseokie says: 'why haven't you been answering? i'm outside, i'm coming up now.' one minute ago. Would you like to reply?"

"NO", you yell out in a rush, sitting up and suddenly too aware of your current state sohee lifts his head, he sees the look on your face and knows his fun with you is over.

sohee purposely drags his tongue out of you at a slow, painful pace that ears one last moan out from you before he sits up, throwing his head back onto the couch while pulling up his boxers and pants, stuffing his still aching cos into them.

you get off the couch and look around for your panties but they are still in sohee's pants, you bend down and reach for them from his pocket but even with his eyes closed he gets a grip on your wrist and shakes his head. "don't even bother"

you let out an exasperated huff, legs still far too weak to be arguing right now. you calculated in your head and realized your boyfriend, eunseok should be coming up in approximately two minutes. you take a crumbled-up napkin from your table and use it to wipe anything off yourself before moving sohee out of the way you were down the couch before tossing it in the bin.

you then grab the throw blanket you were wearing and throw it into the washer, tossing in a random detergent before starting it.

"c'mon, sohee don't do this to me you have to go before he gets her-" your sentence is cut off by the sound of keys jiggling.

sohee gets up, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart hurt. he runs a hand through his hair before he leans in to kiss you, catching you completely off guard. you don't let yourself enjoy the kiss, backing up before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, eyes almost popping out of your sockets.

you hear the door open and sohee smirks, smiling as he makes his way to the front. you follow loosely behind him.

sohee and eunseok met right at the door as sohee was bending down to finish tying up his shoes.

"ah, hyung nice to see you again," sohee says as he pulls together his most polite smile, even sticking out his hand for a handshake. eunseok looks down at it and shakes it, giving a curt smile as he enters.

"are we close enough for you to call me hyung" he asked, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look good. jet black hair parted to the side, a cocky and passive-aggressive smile plastered on his face. sohee noticed the way you looked at eunseok and felt bitterness grow in his heart, and that was the one thing he had never been.

you clear your throat and approach your boyfriend, slightly limping before wrapping your arms around his neck, eunseok drops sohee's hands and pulls you into an embrace by your waist. it hurts slightly because sohee was just gripping them but you plaster your fake smile, holding back a whimper of pain. sohee looks at you both before he heads out the door.

with you still at his side, eunseok holds the door handle, watching the younger boy in front of him with daggers.

"ah, there's something on your lip, over here" eunseok points out to the younger boy, pointing a finger to his top lip to point out where the "thing" is.

soheee brings his finger up to where it is and looks at his hand after, it was your wetness, still on his face, in front of your fucking boyfriend. you mentally face-palm yourself and pray to the universe your boyfriend is too fired to guess what that is.

sohee drags it into his mouth, strategically sucking on his finger with an innocent smile. "thanks hyung, reader gave me a nice, warm, toaster struddle earlier. i'm a bit of a messy eater tho" he says with a slightly narcissistic laugh as he shoves his hands into his pocket, you can see in one pocket he's fumbling with something, your panties to be exact.

yeah, time to wrap this up, you thought to yourself before tugging in eunseok's long-sleeved leather jacket, you pulled him back before giving sohee a curt nod and apologetic smile that only the two of you knew.

sohee's heart felt heavy, and you couldn't put it into words but yours did too. he gave a nod back as if all was fine as if he understood but you could tell by the look on his face that his heart was breaking right in front of you and you were the cause, you slowly shut the door but your boyfriend locks it before you could even register the situation you almost got caught in and the heavy feeling in your chest.

eunseok pulls you away from the door, sighing as he walks and leads you to your living room, the living room where you just came twice.

you look up once you hear eunseok cough a bit and let go of your hand, plopping down on your couch.

"by the way, why is the washing machine on so late?'

an: hey! muse here, how'd you enjoy this short nonsense i whipped up after almost 6 months(?) of ghosting you all, haha.. but really, if i told you guys everything that happened to me since what i last dropped, you wouldn't even believe me. i'm still quite busy but i missed you guys, and i missed writing. i'm not going to make any promises on how frequently i'll update but for now, fuck it, why not say i'm back lol. i hope you guys enjoyed :)

#Spotify #jinxedmuse #Kpop smut #smut #riize #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize imagines #lee sohee #riize sohee #riize drabbles #sohee #riize writers #riize smut #riize sohee smut

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nautilusopus · 2 years

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okay FIIIIIINE i'll throw my hat into the Goncharov ring

Been a while i've done a proper movie breakdown, may as well be this one.

Rather surprisingly (but perhaps not too surprisingly given the unexpected renaissance of things like the original Dracula and Breaking Bad on this website out of seemingly nowhere and with very little prompting), I'm seeing a lot of new people suddenly interested in Martin Scorsese's seminal film classic Goncharov, originally released in 1973. Obviously a movie like that doesn't make it coming up on 50 years without generating a lot of discussion about the different ways the movie resonates and why, but coming into it in 2022 there's been so much cultural cruft that's collected around Goncharov that (similar to stories like Fight Club and Scarface) it's a little hard to parse what it's actually about with all the mythologising that's gone on around the characters.

Those movies, in one way or another, are about portraying the downfall of their protagonists -- Fight Club's after ironically creating another system of control and dehumanisation and becoming what he sought to destroy, Scarface's after being consumed by the wealth and power he's amassed. A lot of people assume it's that kind of story, because aren't most well-loved movies? However, I think this is ironically an assumption made because of the genre of film it is. All the people that aren't going, "OMG Goncharov is so cool and badass and fucks bitches," are going, "WOW I can't believe Goncharov is a cautionary tale about power corrupting," and in the process people miss that Goncharov is first and foremost about loss, in all its different forms.

I'm both kind of surprised and frustrated people miss this, given how utterly pervasive the movie is with its clock symbolism -- it's the one thing everyone remembers about it, it was in all the tie-ins. I dunno, maybe that got funneled back into the theory where they're meant to reinforce how Goncharov is just a mortal man at the end of the day, which is fine I guess, but the movie overall becomes a lot clearer when you interpret it through the lens of, "These things are gone and you can never get them back; clocks don't go backwards."

One of the most fascinating things about the movie is how every character embodies a different kind of loss. I'm gonna ease into this and start not with Goncharov but with:

Rybak, who is usually associated with loss as we typically think of it, i.e. the loss of loved ones via death. This comes up all the time, either in his trust issues (why he's being such a prick at the wedding), in the card game (he never bothers to bet much money, knowing he's bad at poker, and still loses all the same). Rybak is terrified of loss, cannot manage it, and ultimately is punished by losing what few people he had left and then being spared by Lorenzo who deems him punished enough, and is forced to survive, to grapple with what his life is now without them.

Goncharov's is actually more subtle, and it's loss of small, insignificant things as a result of the larger losses he believes he's processed. This is something that's frequently contrasted against Rybak. The pawn shop going under is actually a microcosm of this whole thing. Goncharov anticipates that this is obviously going to lead to financial issues for him, plans accordingly to deal with this, and... it works! He's saved! Except that means card games can't be hosted at his place anymore, given it's burned to the ground. Does this matter, in the grand scheme of his life? No, of course not. Poker night still gets had all the same. But it is different now, and always will be. Little things like this continue to add up, until something as insignificant as a towel -- a towel that never should have been in his room, but Sofia is no longer there to drop off his laundry and chat with him -- is ultimately the final nail in a coffin built of insignificant splinters, each one an imperceptible change underneath the much more larger, noticeable story beats of things like grief.

Otto is the big obvious one I'm not gonna linger on: loss of his youth, moments in the past that he wants to redo but can't. Most people at least seem to have gotten this one.

(This is also what the clocks get associated with a lot, which again, doesn't NOT make sense but also if it were just for this one character that, while thematically important, was honestly just a side character with limited screentime and only two scenes, would they really be all over the movie before Otto's name is even mentioned?)

Sofia's a bit abstract, and is the loss of self -- of the familiar anchors we have to who we are, what we think our core principles are, our place in society, who we want to be to our loved ones -- and by the time she dies she is rendered utterly unrecognisable to herself, and is horrified by it. She grieves herself the same way Rybak grieves his wife (even gets a direct visual callback via the way her face is lit when she's burning Lorenzo's check). You see echoes of this in Goncharov as well, but while Sofia is grieving the person she used to be, Goncharov is grieving the world around him (even though really, it's the same world it always was -- time keeps ticking on, one second per second, and neither one of them can ever un-fire that gun).

Lorenzo, tragically, gradually loses his freedom (and maybe in a parallel world would actually be the protagonist of a movie where he chokes on his own hubris like everyone seems to think Goncharov is GRUMBLE GRUMBLE). As he comes into his own more and more by his family's legacy, he is afforded fewer and fewer options about what decisions he can even make. Arguably he was doomed from the start, but the further he clings to power as a means to freedom, the more it drives him to destroying everything he ever (thought he) cared about. The tragedy of his character, and what makes him a good villain, is that he can clearly see what he is doing to himself and he absolutely hates it (his walking out early at the wedding is a tacit admission of this), but his absolute refusal to accept loss, to accept grief and pain and all the awful shit that comes with the human condition, is what causes him to toss aside every out he has because if he has enough CONTROL over his situation, surely he will never have to lose anything ever again. But, really, he already has.

I dunno. Goncharov is one of those movies that is great, and everyone seems to realise it's great, but nobody ever really puts into words why, and that's how you get Fight Club fans lmao. And it sucks because the actual discussion around the movie beyond "it's another hubris story but REALLY GOOD guys" is so much more fascinating and a much more earnest emotional truth that just never gets talked about.

#goncharov #goncharov (1973)#martin scorsese #al pacino #robert di niro #gene hackman #harvey keitel #gaslight gatekeep goncharov

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c-e-d-dreamer · 7 months

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Take My Hand, We'll Be Fine (Promise I Won't Let You Down)

A/N: did you really think I could go all of @sjmromanceweek without posting some Nessian? I just think there's no better romantic gesture than telling your hot neighbor to dump her piece of shit boyfriend, ya know? 😉 Special shout-out to @dustjacketmusings for giving me this prompt!

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They’re fighting again.

Cassian swipes up his television remote from his coffee table, muting the game currently playing. He doesn’t even need to prick his ears or listen closely to make out the muffled voices filtering through the wall to his right. Doesn’t need to try hard to recognize the rough, clipped voice and the more feminine, cool tone that answers. He can’t quite make out the words being said, but it’s easy enough to guess. It doesn’t help that this is practically the norm for the apartment next to his.

He still remembers the first time he met his next door neighbor, Nesta Archeron, the day she moved in. Even in that moment, even with her hair messy, her cheeks pink, and a large box hefted in her arms, she had been the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen in his life. Her face was all sharp, beautiful lines, high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. Her eyes had been a stormy, piercing blue that had enraptured him as soon as their gazes met. Her pretty pink lips twisting into a scowl had him wanting to drop to his knees right there in the hall, fire blazing through his chest to meet that expression.

Could anyone really blame him for being a goner from that moment on?

He’d found any and every excuse to see her again, to talk to her again. Casual run-ins in the hall, in the lobby. Getting the mail at the same time. Going down to the laundry room at the same time. Anything to see her roll her eyes at him. To see her give that expression that he’s deemed her I Will Slay My Enemies look. Anything for the game of back and forth he built with her full of quips and retorts that always leave him wanting more.

Anything to see her smile. To hear that beautiful breathy melody of her laugh. To watch the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. To catch that softness that takes over when she talks about her friends or her family. Every tiny piece she hands over Cassian tucks away close to his heart. And every interaction, no matter how small, no matter how much time passes in between, leaves him yearning for more.

And he’s learned a lot about Nesta through those interactions. He learned that she has two sisters, one who lives in the city and another who lives in the countryside. He learned she’s a damn good lawyer and definitely his first call if he ever needs to be bailed out of jail. He learned that she’s a terrible cook and has a serious affinity for ordering takeout most nights. He learned that she has a serious book addiction if the endless bookstore packages are any indication.

And he learned that she has the worst boyfriend Cassian has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Cassian still isn’t sure how Tomas was able to get a woman as beautiful and as amazing as Nesta to agree to a single date with his sorry ass, let alone agree to be his girlfriend. The bastard clearly doesn’t know what he has, how lucky he is. That a woman like Nesta Archeron is incomparable. And yet, Cassian has seen the way his eyes have wandered to the blonde in 4C’s ass. Has witnessed the unimpressed, bored expression he wears when Nesta is speaking. Has heard the unnecessarily rude and sometimes cruel words he flings carelessly at Nesta.

The last one in particular always has Cassian’s blood boiling, dark tendrils constricting through his chest until he’s glaring daggers at the man in question any time he sees him in the apartment building. He wishes he and Nesta were more than just neighbors just so he could tell her what a piece of shit her boyfriend is. Wishes it wouldn’t be weird if he suggested she dump him.

He wishes he could tell her how he really feels, how he swears he’s already falling for her despite their limited interactions. How he fears that there will never be anyone else for him. Wishes he could show her what it’s like to be with a real man, one who respects her. One who genuinely cares about her and isn’t afraid to show her, to shout it from the rooftops. He’d treat her right, treat her so much better than Tomas ever could.

A door slams next door, and Cassian is on his feet in a moment. He glances around his apartment, looking for something he can quickly grab as an excuse. The last time he had heard a crash come from next door, his worry and concern had consumed him enough to send him propelling out of his own apartment and banging his fist against Nesta’s door. But things had been awkward and tense when Nesta answered the door seemingly alright, and when Tomas demanded to know what he was doing, Cassian had ended up stumbling over his words, too distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes swimming with questions. So this time, Cassian ties off his half full trash bag and hauls it up out of the bin.

“Will you hurry up?” Tomas’s voice reaches Cassian as he yanks open his front door. “You know that I don’t like to be late to Sullivan’s, or else we won’t get the best seats at the bar.”

“Maybe if we went to a proper restaurant where you can make a reservation instead of the same dive bar every week, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Nesta answers him, and even before he lays eyes on her, Cassian can perfectly picture the way she must be rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long doing your stupid fucking hair–”

Tomas’s words trail off when he notices Cassian standing in his now open doorway. Already, the man looks annoyed at his presence, jaw clenching with a restraint scowl. The sight has an easy smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, how fast he’s able to garner such a reaction, but he only has eyes for Nesta.

She has on a short, dark blue dress, black flower lace overlaid on the silky fabric. Black heeled boots further elongate her legs and the skin on display, the tantalizing lines of her collarbones highlighted by the dress’s neckline. Her hair is styled in her preferred braided crown, but a few strands curl around her temples and frame her face, and Cassian knows he’d give anything to curl one of those strands around his finger. With the pink dusted across her cheeks and mascara heightening the icy blue of her eyes, he has to swallow hard and clear his throat before finding his voice again, struck dumb by the beauty of her in front of him.

“Nesta,” Cassian greets, finally flicking his gaze back to the other man in the hall. “Tommy.”

“It’s Tomas,” Tomas snaps back, his sneer only deepening when Cassian shrugs in response. “What are you even doing?”

Cassian’s smile is all mocking and teeth, holding up the trash back in his hands. “Just taking out the trash. Maybe Nesta should consider doing the same.”

Whether Tomas understands the double meaning or not, Cassian doesn’t get a chance to find out. Nesta steps forward, linking her arm with her boyfriend’s with a quiet, murmured reminder that they’re running late. They continue down the hall, Cassian watching them until they vanish around the corner, until he hears the quiet ding of the elevator.

He closes his front door with a soft sigh, glancing consideringly back toward his television still playing the game, but then an idea hits him. It’s a risk, most definitely stupid, but maybe he’s always been a bit reckless. Rushing back toward his living room, Cassian grabs his phone where he left it, opening up the text chain with his family.

Anyone down for drinks tonight? Found a new bar we should try

~ * * * ~

Sullivan’s isn’t much to write home about as far as bars go. Posters and photos litter almost every free inch of space on the walls, a pool table set up to the right, and round high top tables and bar stools arranged around the rest of the space. The bar juts out from the wall in the center of the room, bottles lining the shelves. It may be the nicest dive bar Cassian has ever set foot in, but it’s still a dive bar, the stench of beer and sweat heavy.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Azriel sighs from Cassian’s right.

Cassian turns toward his brother, but Azriel’s attention is elsewhere. When Cassian follows his gaze, he finds Nesta and Tomas sitting at one of the high top tables. Her back is ramrod straight, fingers curled tightly around the glass of wine sitting primly in front of her, but Tomas doesn’t seem to notice. He sips casually from a beer bottle, his attention focused more on the patrons around him.

“Isn’t that your neighbor?” Mor pipes up from Cassian’s left. “The one you’re in love with?”

“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asks innocently, refusing to meet either Azriel or Mor’s gaze. “What are the odds of that?”

“If I’m playing wingman tonight, you owe me so many drinks,” Azriel grumbles with a shake of his head.

“Drinks on Cassian?” Mor teases, looping her arm with Azriel’s and dragging him toward the bar. “I like the sound of that. Let’s order all top shelf.”

Cassian rolls his eyes good naturedly, but he follows behind his family, buying the first round of drinks after all. He lets Azriel and Mor get settled, lets them chat about their respective weeks and jobs, and all the while, he stares across the bar at Nesta and Tomas. He doesn’t understand how anyone can sit across from Nesta Archeron and ignore her. How they can want to do anything other than bask in her presence. How they could care more about a freshly out of college girl clearly working the pool table just for free drinks.

“So, I need a favor,” Cassian begins, interjecting into the conversation swirling around him.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” Azriel remarks dryly.

“Very funny,” Cassian fires back, turning his attention to Mor and offering the blonde his best, most winning smile. “I need you to go flirt with that guy over there.”

“Seriously, Cass?” Mor huffs, her face exasperated.

“Please? I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night. The best wine they have. However many glasses you want. Especially if you can somehow make an accident happen that gets him away from the table.”

Mor narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him, her eyes dancing briefly toward the table across the bar. “This Nesta better be worth it.”

“Trust me,” Cassian assures her quietly, unable to stop from smiling. “She is.”

Cassian isn’t sure what Mor sees on his face, but her expression softens. She rolls her eyes fondly and swipes up her glass of wine, slipping off her bar stool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strides her way over to Nesta and Tomas, plastering on a wide, flirtatious smile. It’s certainly entertaining for Cassian, watching his friend work. She twirls the blonde strands of hair around her fingers, places her hand on Tomas’s arm, makes a big show of laughing loudly at whatever is said. It would almost be comical if Tomas wasn’t eating up every second.

“Come on, Mor,” Cassian mumbles under his breath. “Hurry it up, already.”

“You really need all the help you can get, don’t you?” Azriel sighs, setting his now finished drink on the bartop.

Azriel steps around Cassian and heads toward the table as well. He makes eye contact with Mor, some sort of silent agreement passing between the two, and then Azriel is walking behind her. His arm brushes along her back, Mor’s cue to fake stumbling forward a step, her half full glass of wine spilling right across Tomas’s shirt and pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tomas’s voice carries even to where Cassian is sitting. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

Tomas storms off toward the bathrooms, Mor hot on his heels and offering overly innocent apologies. She winks at Cassian as they pass, and Cassian has to stifle a laugh into his hand to keep Tomas from noticing him. One last glance to make sure Tomas is gone and the coast is clear, and Cassian wastes no time cutting his way across the bar and sliding into the now vacated seat across from Nesta.

“Some date, huh?” Cassian jokes lightly, Nesta’s attention snapping to him.

“Cassian… what are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Cassian swears he sees Nesta’s shoulders start to relax from where they’re pitched up near her ears, swears he sees what looks suspiciously like relief flood through her eyes. He lets it fuel the hope swarming and twisting in his gut, the warmth blooming between his ribs and tightening around his heart like a golden thread. He knows he could easily play the whole thing off as a coincidence, shrug the question away with mentions of his family and their drinking habits.

But he knew the gamble he was taking by crashing Nesta’s date tonight, and maybe, this is his chance. His chance to show Nesta just how much she already means to him. To prove to her that he can treat her better.

“Your boyfriend sucks,” Cassian says rather than answer her question.

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, eyebrows pinching slightly. “What?”

“Tomas. He sucks ass, and you should absolutely dump him. I’m serious, Nes. You deserve so much better than his sorry excuse.”

“You seem quite sure of that, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. I might not have known you very long, but I know that you’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re witty and passionate, and you care so much about your sisters and your friends. And you deserve someone who cherishes you. You can do so much better than that piece of shit.”

Cassian’s words hang in the space between them, the rest of the bar fading away into nothing until it’s just him and her and the sparks and electricity charging the air around them. Nesta stares at him like she’s never seen him before, like no one’s ever said things like that to her before. It sends cracks ricocheting like icy claws through his chest. Especially, when Nesta drops her gaze away from him, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

It leaves him wanting to find whoever in her past has her unsure, wanting to go track down where Tomas has vanished to and punch him in the face for making her curl into herself. It makes his determination to show her what it could be like harden even more, makes him want to spend the rest of his life properly cherishing her if she’ll let him.

“I don’t know about all that,” Nesta offers, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Cassian asks instead, reaching his hand across the table and skating his fingertips across the back of Nesta’s hand, drawing her attention fully back to him.

Nesta sighs softly. “Cassian—”

“Let me prove it to you. Prove what it could be like, should be like. Prove what a good date is. Prove that I’d treat you better.”

Nesta thinks about it for a moment, emotions flitting through those blue eyes faster than Cassian can decipher. But then Nesta is slipping out of her seat and grabbing her purse, turning away from him. Cassian’s heart sinks through his feet and the floor, and it takes all his willpower to keep his disappointment off his face as he watches her.

“One date,” Nesta tells him, looking back at him expectantly.

“One date is all I need, sweetheart,” Cassian assures her, jumping out of his own seat. “Now, let’s get out of here before Tomas realizes what’s hit him.”

Cassian grabs Nesta’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and leading her out of the bar. Her hand feels right in his, his fingers curled around her own, their palms pressed together, and Cassian knows in that moment that he has no intention of ever letting go again. He uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket, working quickly to get everything ready, to make everything perfect for this opportunity, but he’s still nervous by the time they arrive at their destination.

Nesta’s steps pause as she glances around them. “Our one date is going to be at our apartment complex?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassian asks, holding open the door for her.

“You sure are asking a lot for this one date.”

“And the night is still young.”

Cassian offers her a wink for extra good measure, earning a laugh from Nesta in return. The sound is light and easy, the melody wrapping around Cassian’s limbs as surely as it wraps around his heart. It might just be his favorite sound, the way her blue eyes light up along with the reaction his favorite sight, and he can’t wait to draw even more laughs out of her.

He leads the way back up to their floor, all of the paper and plastic bags he expects waiting right outside his apartment door. He sends up a silent prayer to the Mother in thanks that so far everything is going to plan.

“What’s all this?” Nesta asks, eying the bags as well.

“Well, I noticed you order a lot of takeout,” Cassian explains, gathering up the different bags and unlocking his apartment door.

Nesta scoffs even as she steps inside and into his apartment. “Are you judging me for being a terrible cook?”

“Never. I’ll have you know I actually love to cook, so we’re a good pair, but I didn’t really have time to prepare anything tonight, so I figured I’d order everything I’ve worked out to be your favorites based on what you seem to order the most,” Cassian explains, setting all the bags down on his kitchen counter and beginning to pull the different containers out. “Crab rangoon from Bar Bao. Butter chicken and basmati from Urban Tandoor. Garlic breadsticks and ravioli from Tony’s. California rolls from Black Dragon. And triple chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.”

Nesta is silent, staring wide-eyed at all the food, at him, so Cassian turns to grab plates just to give his hands something to do. When she still hasn’t said anything, he clears his throat awkwardly, pushing a hand up and through his hair.

“So…” Cassian starts, handing a plate over to Nesta. “What do you think?”

“I think you might just get a second date after all.”

—

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