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#sending him all the love in the world right now what he's going through sounds awful
murrpa · 1 day
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heart wrecking angst⇩
In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.
Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!
All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.
Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.
Logan: Wade?
Wade: Yeah?
Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.
Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?
Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.
Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.
His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?
Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.
No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.
He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.
Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.
Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.
Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.
But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.
Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…
Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.
Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.
But Wade protests.
Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.
He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.
Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.
Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.
Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.
Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.
Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.
(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)
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Queerbaiting = media teasing/using the possibility of queer representation as a way of drawing in an LGBTQ+ audience, only to not actually deliver on the promise of having queer characters/rep; a copout for gay representation, essentially
Real people cannot queerbait. Real people don't "promise" their audiences/fans an expectation of being queer and then go back on it because sexuality is complicated and fluid and it's never something absolutely definitive.
If you feel entitled to police and speculate on people's identities, get the fuck off my blog.
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tonycries · 4 months
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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
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Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
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Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it. 
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 
And it was so unfair. 
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 
But it wasn’t fast enough. 
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat. 
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 
And then it’s black. 
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
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A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 
Plagiarism not authorized.
21K notes · View notes
jensthwa · 2 months
Text
we can't be friends (CS x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.
PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.
GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)
WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.
NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: august 06 2024.
permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68
masterlist.
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You and Choi San go way back. 
Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 
He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 
She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.
He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 
Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 
Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 
Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 
So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 
Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 
Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 
And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 
You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 
He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 
So it was meant to be. 
Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 
Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 
See? Meant. To. Be. 
It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 
You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 
Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 
You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 
And then the unimaginable happened. 
Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 
Gyuri was not too excited about that. 
Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 
You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 
And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 
But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 
Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 
You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.
It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 
When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 
He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 
Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 
Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 
That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 
You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 
It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.
You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 
Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 
Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 
Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 
It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 
You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 
It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 
Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 
But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 
But you saw through it. 
Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 
Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 
You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 
Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 
By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 
She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 
“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 
Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 
“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 
Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 
Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 
And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 
A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 
Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 
“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 
“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 
Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 
And so, it went on for a while: 
Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  
Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.
All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 
And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 
You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 
You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 
You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 
Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 
She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 
Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 
So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 
She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 
Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 
Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 
She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 
And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 
Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 
Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 
“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 
“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”
You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 
You loved it. 
But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 
You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 
And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 
“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 
You nodded again, defeated. 
“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”
That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 
And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 
It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 
Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 
He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 
Bless his heart. 
You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 
“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 
Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 
No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 
But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 
You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 
His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 
Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.
When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 
“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 
“And just what do you think you're doing?” 
“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 
San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 
“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 
He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 
He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 
He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 
San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 
He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 
You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 
The one who cared about you. 
It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 
But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 
He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 
Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.
“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 
What? 
Oh. So he lied to you. 
And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 
So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 
“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 
The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 
But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 
“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 
He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 
“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 
“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 
Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 
“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 
And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 
But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 
“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 
Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 
The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 
Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 
Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.
You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 
Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 
You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddlenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 
Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 
And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 
He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 
He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 
And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 
For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 
You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 
And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 
Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 
Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 
“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” the slap to the back of your head is quick and fill with rage. 
“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 
“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 
“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”
It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 
“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 
“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 
“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 
Kyungmi. 
You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 
She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 
You think you might even like her better than him. 
You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 
You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 
You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 
Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 
And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 
You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 
“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 
Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 
To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 
Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 
But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 
“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 
They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 
“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 
“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 
“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 
“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 
“Gyuri!”
“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 
You chuckle “Sure you are.”
You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 
“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 
“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 
Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 
“What does that have to do with parents?”
“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 
San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 
The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 
Good for them. 
“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 
“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”
Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 
Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.
“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 
“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 
You laugh, confused “To where?” 
“Their wedding, duh.” 
“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 
“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 
“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 
She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 
Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 
“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 
“Why?” 
She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 
“Hm.” 
“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 
“I know…” 
“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 
“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 
You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 
“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 
“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 
But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 
“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.
Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 
He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 
You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 
And now he's going to work in the same field as you.
You're so proud of your friend. 
As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 
You didn't. 
You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 
When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 
You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 
She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 
You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 
Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 
You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 
You don't even want to find out. 
Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 
Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 
“You're going to mess up your hair.” 
“I don't care, I'm not going.” 
Sighing, you seat down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 
“What happened now?” 
“The bitch canceled!” 
“Wooyoung?” 
Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 
“You were his first love.” 
“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 
Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 
She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 
“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 
She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 
“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 
You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 
Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 
She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 
Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 
“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 
You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 
And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 
When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 
That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 
You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 
But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 
“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 
“Who?” 
“Huh?”
San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 
Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 
But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 
“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 
He's such a dramatic human being.
You love him so much. 
Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 
The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 
Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 
Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 
“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 
“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 
Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 
“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 
“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 
She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 
“No you don't!” 
The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 
There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 
You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 
“So, you work for a publishing company?” 
The question caughts you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 
He chuckles “You're nervous.” 
“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 
“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 
“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 
“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 
You doubt that. 
Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 
For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 
“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 
He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 
“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 
His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 
Your smile grows wider too. 
For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.
You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 
“I'm sorry I'm late!” 
“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 
“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 
“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.
“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 
Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 
The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 
You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 
“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 
You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.
He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 
How dare he. 
You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 
“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 
You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 
Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 
“Thanks…” 
Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 
It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 
Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 
“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 
“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 
“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 
“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 
“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  
“Do they?” 
“Mhm, so…” 
He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 
He doesn't sit in front of you. 
Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 
Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.
Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 
Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.
“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 
You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 
“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 
“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 
“Know what?” 
“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 
“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 
“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 
San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 
His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 
San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 
When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.
You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 
So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 
San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 
Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 
“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 
“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 
The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.
That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 
You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 
“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 
“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 
“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 
“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 
“I'll show you.” 
His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 
No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 
When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 
You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 
Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 
Until it does. 
Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 
“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 
“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 
Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 
When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 
Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 
Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 
Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 
“I—” 
“You—” 
You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 
He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 
“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 
Ouch. 
Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 
The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 
“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 
“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 
“Huh?” 
“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 
“God damnit.” 
Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 
The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 
“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 
You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 
You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 
Jesus Christ. 
You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 
“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 
“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 
Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”
“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 
“You want to lay down?” 
“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 
“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 
“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 
“To your room, dumbass!”
“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 
“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 
“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 
If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 
“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 
“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 
“I know, Woo.” 
“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 
“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 
“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 
“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”
“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 
Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 
“Ah.”
“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 
And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 
When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 
You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 
Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 
“So—” 
“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 
“Y/N, it's late.” 
Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 
“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 
“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 
San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 
He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 
If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 
You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 
You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 
You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 
So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 
Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—
Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 
In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 
In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 
You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 
“Go home, Choi San.” 
“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 
“It's a twenty minute walk—” 
“Drop it.” 
You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 
Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 
“I didn't know that you danced.” 
He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 
“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 
“You never danced with me.” 
“You never asked me to.” 
He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 
“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 
“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 
It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 
You hope he falls on his pretty face.
“I did.* 
“I don't have your number.” 
“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 
“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 
He's getting on your nerves.
“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 
“Do you like him?” 
“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 
“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 
“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 
“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 
“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 
“That's not true.” 
“It is, San.” 
“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 
“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 
“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 
“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 
“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 
“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 
He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 
He's getting on your fucking nerves. 
“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 
“She’s not in my life anymore—” 
The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 
“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 
He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 
“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 
“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 
Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.
“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 
“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 
“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 
“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 
You nod. 
He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 
“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 
“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 
You hum at that. 
Why would he even say that? 
You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 
“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 
He follows you up. 
“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 
That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 
“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”
Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 
“It doesn't matter, really—” 
“Tell me, San.” 
He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 
Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 
The elevator dings and you get inside. 
San follows you. 
“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 
“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 
This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 
There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 
Mean. 
He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 
Hope. 
When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 
He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 
He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 
When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 
“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 
You can't take it anymore. 
“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 
“I know.” 
“It's been years…”  
“I miss you.” 
He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 
Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 
You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 
Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 
Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 
“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 
“W-what?”
His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 
Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 
He doesn't deny any of it.
He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 
There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 
“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 
“Hm?” 
“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 
How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 
He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 
You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 
Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 
If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 
“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 
This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 
But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 
“I guess it is.” 
You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 
When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 
Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 
He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.
“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 
He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 
“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 
He doesn't say it back. 
When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 
You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 
And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 
This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 
The doorbell rings. 
Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 
Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 
“Something about it.” 
“What?” 
“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 
You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 
It's too late to kiss him back. 
But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 
There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 
You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 
Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 
The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 
But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 
The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 
Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 
You have to know. 
He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 
Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 
You need to know. 
“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 
“Because I want you, Y/N.” 
You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 
Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 
“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”
“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 
His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 
You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 
He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 
You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 
Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 
“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 
You nod. 
“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 
Oh, he's a comedian. 
“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 
You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 
“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 
You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 
The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 
“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 
He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 
Oh. 
Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 
No way. 
“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 
“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 
Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 
“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 
His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 
But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 
You can't believe his words. 
He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 
“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 
“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 
He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 
“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 
You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 
“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 
“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 
“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 
“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 
“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.
“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 
Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 
“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 
All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 
Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 
But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 
You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 
Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.
“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 
“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 
Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 
You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 
“I love you too, Sannie.” 
Saying something never felt so freeing before. 
“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 
You don't mind it. 
Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 
He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 
It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 
He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 
He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.
“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 
You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 
“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 
Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 
“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 
“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 
It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 
You want to hear it again. 
He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.
However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 
You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 
“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 
It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 
“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.
His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 
Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  
His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress with a soft tud, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 
You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 
Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 
You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 
You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 
He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 
“San…” 
He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 
You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 
This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 
Yeah, you can definitely cry later.
“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 
“San, p-please…” 
“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 
When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under you breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 
He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 
“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 
He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.
“Mhm,” the circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “Taste even better than what I dreamed, too.” 
The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 
Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 
Once the piece of clothing is one the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention on where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 
The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 
Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.
In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 
So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 
The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 
You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 
After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 
There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 
Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 
“Condom?” 
You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 
“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 
“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 
And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 
Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 
He feels so good. 
This all feels way too good to be real. 
In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 
For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 
Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 
He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 
When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 
“Y-yes, fuck.” 
“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 
“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 
“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 
Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 
You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 
He kisses them away. 
You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 
You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 
“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 
Holy shit. 
When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 
San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 
There's also no way you're coming back from this. 
Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 
And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 
He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 
You both giggle at that.
You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 
Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 
“It was.” 
“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 
He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 
“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 
“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 
“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 
He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 
“Oh, come on!” 
He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 
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San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 
When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 
“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 
“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 
San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 
Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 
You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 
“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 
“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 
“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 
“Please don't.” 
“Why?” 
“Why do you think that one is broken?” 
He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 
Now you're feeling it. 
He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 
“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 
His smile drops. 
“Oh, fuck.” 
Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 
“What was the first?” 
“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 
He fake gasps at that “I did!” 
“No, you didn't!” 
“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 
“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 
Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 
And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 
“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 
“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 
When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 
“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 
You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 
He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 
As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 
“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  
“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 
“I know.” 
Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 
“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 
“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 
“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 
Gyuri's anger falters at that. 
“You… You do?” 
“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 
“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 
“Y-yes ma'am.” 
You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 
You and San don't get to go out on that date. 
But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 
And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.
Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 
You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.
The first line read as it follows: 
How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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Cherry.
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Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.
Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 2k
Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3
Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.
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Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.
You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.
Another rock hits your window.
You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.
"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."
"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.
You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.
"Hi, sugar."
"Hi, Steven."
He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.
"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"
"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."
You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.
"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"
He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.
"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"
You scoff.
"What? That bad?"
"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."
He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.
"I thought tonight was the big night?"
"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."
You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.
"You always deserved so much better than him."
"Thanks, Steve."
"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."
The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.
"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."
"Because they're not good enough for you."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"
"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."
You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.
He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.
"I give up."
"With what?"
"Dating. Fuck it."
He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.
"You've barely even started."
"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."
"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."
"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."
"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."
"And you'll be fighting them off."
"Yes I will."
You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.
"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."
"Hey, some of us do know!"
"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."
"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."
"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."
"No?"
He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.
"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"
"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."
He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.
"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."
You exhale with a shudder.
"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."
"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."
You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.
"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."
He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.
"Steve?" you whisper.
"Yeah?"
"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"
He smiles, big and bright.
"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."
You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"Well, then what are you waiting for?"
He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.
"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't usually ask," you tease.
It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.
"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."
You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.
"Kiss me. Please."
Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.
"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.
Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.
"Steve-"
"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."
You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.
"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"
Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.
Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.
You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.
"Babe, if you want to stop..."
"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."
You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.
"I love you too. So much."
You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.
"Let me make you feel good, okay?"
When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.
"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."
He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.
"You want more, pretty baby?"
"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."
He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.
He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.
"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."
"Stevie," you pant. "So close."
"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."
Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.
Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.
"You okay?"
"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."
"Told you the rumours were true."
You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.
He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.
"You replace it, don't you?"
"Hmm?"
"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."
He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.
"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."
You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.
"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."
"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."
"You're welcome."
Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.
The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.
The room is unchanged.
The people in it are not.
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read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.
@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson
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vividxpages · 2 months
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✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧
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PART 2 + PART 3
pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 1700
summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)
warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing
a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!
𓆩♡𓆪
All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War
Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.
Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.
Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.
(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.
You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”
“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“
Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.
“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)
You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.
But oh, how your heart still clung to them.
The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.
Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.
But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.
And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.
You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.
Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.
You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.
Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.
But you were alone, for the first time in months.
You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.
When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.
And Luke had been still alive.
(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)
Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.
You crashed together like two waves.
The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.
Only Jace was holding you together right now.
He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.
You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.
“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.
“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.
He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“
His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.
“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“
“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”
Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“
“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”
He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“
“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“
“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”
You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.
A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”
His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.
There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.
 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.
Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…
You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.
Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.
You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.
Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.
On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?
On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?
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flw3rrr · 2 months
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Could you please do one where the reader is Javis sister and she barley survived the tornado five years early. She’s married to Tyler now and something goes wrong during a chase and the reader ends up getting severely hurt and Tyler and Javi risk everything to save her. She’s unresponsive but ends up being okay
Promise me
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Tyler owens x fem!reader
Warnings: slight Swearing, injured reader, Angst, Fluff, No mentions of Y/n, flashbacks to trauma
word count: 2k
A/N: Tysm for this request! I hope this goes to your Liking and please feel free to request more💖
Have a request? feel free to send me it in my inbox!
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The only thing you could hear was your bother. Javi was screaming your name in the distance as you laid on the grass, your vision almost a blur as you stared at the gray sky above you. Everything felt slow and calm, as if everything was alright. But nothing was alright, barely surviving an EF5 with harsh winds throwing you around at a failed attempt to capture data of the tornado.
Not even noticing or feeling the intense pain within your lower body, just staring at the sky as if it were comforting you. In a blur, Javi stood above you, looking almost horrified as he looked over your body. immediately taking notice, a wood peace of a fence went through your right leg. "Stay awake, alright?" Shaking you slightly to keep your brain still aware. The rest of his words were muffled, not minding as you felt something pulling you above.
The last thing you heard from Javi was him yelling at you in a panic to try to stay awake more and wait for the paramedics to come rescue you before your vision went black in the most peaceful way you ever felt.
Five years later
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror at the gas station, letting the cold water run over your hands as you cleaned them thoroughly, getting rid of any germs you had on your hands for just being in the bathroom. Your wedding ring getting more shiny as the water ran through it. Bringing a smile to your face just five years ago, you were on the edge of death and now a happily married woman to none other than Tyler Owens. The tornado wrangler.
A knock broke your train of thought as Lily spoke from behind the door. "Are you almost done? Some of us have to use the bathroom too, yknow?!" Quickly drying your hands before opening the door to meet Lily. "Yeah, I'm done now. Sorry, I was just in my own world for a quick second." letting out a little laugh. 
Patting your shoulder as Lily closes the door shut quickly with the sound of the lock turning. Turning away and approaching Dexter, who stood in the aisle looking at the batteries. "Need extras?" You asked, crossing your arms.
Along with Dexter and Dani, you helped them a bit with navigation, but mostly you hung out in the truck with Tyler, Boone, and Javi. Having to take it easy since the injury that took place on your leg left you weak and needed an easier job. 
Having such love for this job made you never want to quit at all. As soon as you were discharged from the hospital, you wanted to go back out, but with ears full from Javi and other friends, you waited. Three years later, you still were getting the strength you had on your leg. It was hard as the years went by as Javi went on to continue to storm chase, then some time in the military. But it was all worth it as you met Tyler, who brought more happiness to your life and as well some new friends. 
"Not really, but I'm getting some of these just in case you'll never know when something happens." Dexter's voice pulls you out of your thoughts once more. "Ah well, you're right on that one; you can never be sure." Giving a warm smile before hearing a voice behind speaking up. "Be sure of what?" Tyler's voice was heard as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him lovingly.
Just at the sound of his voice, it already has you a blushing mess, it doesn't matter if both of you are married; you'd never get over it. He always treated you fairly and kindly and with respect, and you gave the same in return.
Looking up at him with a big smile and back to Dexter. "He was just telling me he's getting extra batteries just in case, y'know?" Tyler let out a laugh with a shake of his head. "always thinking ahead, which I greatly appreciate. In fact, today is supposed to be easy. With the stats we are seeing, it should be at least something tiny." Now walking out of the building with Tyler and approaching Javi, Dani, and Boone, who was checking the camera storage.
"How you feelin'?" Javi asked as you approached him by the truck. Javi has always worried for you since the injury and always double checks if you're sure you'd like to continue on. It always made you smile though; Javi was the best brother you could ask for, and you'd never wished to replace him ever.
"I am feeling good, Javi; no need to worry about me. I don't need two people to keep checking up on me every second." Tyler also always asked you if you wanted to join and go through, and it made you always feel like the safest person on earth.
Just earning a small nod from him before Tyler spoke once to the whole group, announcing one minute left before heading out. Crossing your arms, you looked at the sky. The wind was not strong, but it made your stomach turn, feeling a sense of unease and worry. Taking deep breaths to desperately fight the flashbacks, closing your eyes and trying to focus on the sound of your breaths before a hand sat on your shoulder, taking you back to reality.
Looking over your eyes  met Tyler once more; his face looked concerned for you and worried. "Is everything alright, sweetheart?" His voice even carried the sound of concern. Giving him a slight smile as you turn to fully meet him, placing your hands on each side of him and holding onto him. "Of course I'm fine, Tyler. Don't worry about me." Giving a reassuring squeeze before he spoke up.
"But I'm supposed to worry about you; that's my job as your husband. Don't forget that." letting out a slight chuckle and a smile to boost the mood between one another. A chuckle escaped past your lips. Your head landing on his chest, hiding your smirk from his comment. "I could never forget Tyler... I love you too much to ever forget that," a soft smile placed on your lips.
His face lowered down to meet your's to place a soft and quick kiss against your lips. Both of you taking in the moment just the two of you as the wind slowly picked up. "Not to bother your guy's little moment, but uh, it's time to get goin'." Lilly's voice spoke, breaking the moment. 
Getting in the back of the truck with Javi as Tyler sat in the driver seat and Boone in the passenger. You usually preferred the back when you felt uneasy, giving a sense of comfort. Just as Tyler started to drive, talking to the viewers through the camera, you and Javi kept an eye on the wind speeds and closely monitored, giving every piece of information to everyone.
Javi looked away for a couple of minutes to talk to the camera, joining in the fun as you kept a close eye on the monitor. The winds picked up speed, the sky got darker, and then rain began to pour down harshly. Glancing up, you look at the funnel slowly forming, doing the math and analyzing the size. This wouldn't be some EF1…
"Woah, do you guys see that now that is a good one?" Tyler spoke to the viewers once more as Boone turned to show it forming. Your body froze, unable to move. Every thought and memory came back in a flash quickly.
"Javi, I need to get this data; it's the most important one I can ever get." You spoke loudly, trying to be heard over the high winds, clutching the computer in your arms tightly. "But you'll get yourself killed; it's not worth it!" Javi yelled, trying to get you back in the van to safety. 
Just as you turned back, it was too late, as the large EF5 looked as if it wasn't moving. With a great chance, it was approaching your way.
Coming back to your senses once again as Javi looks at you with worry. "Are you alright? What's the matter?" Both of his hands on your shoulder, Tyler looking at you through the little mirror, as Boone just kept the camera away from you for privacy. Quickly showing your brother the wind speed and then pointing to the almost formed tornado and speaking only five words. "We need to leave now." 
But it was too late; it had already formed into a massive EF5. With no little time, Tyler quickly started to drive. Your eyes locked on the tornado in fear. "I can't see shit!" Tyler yelled through the loud rain.
"Just drive go go go!" Boone yelled. Then everything went slow for the second time in your life. The sudden calm feeling you enjoyed and overwhelmed you. You take notice of everyone's expressions. Javi was petrified as his right hand gripped on your arm. Tyler's eyes shut, hands gripping the wheel, his wedding ring shining brightly. And Boone was holding onto the camera dearly. 
Then it went back to normal with a sound of a crash, then darkness once more. Perhaps it was how you were meant to go? Or someone above was cradling you in their arms, offering comfort and safety; whatever it was, it felt as if it were a dream. 
It only felt as if this comfort lasted a second. The sound of a constant beeping rang through your ears. A feeling of a rough blanket beneath your fingers as you slowly moved them. Then a comforting hand laid on your forehead, slowly stroking your hair. A deep breath leaves from you before your eyes slowly flutter open.
It took time for your eyes to focus as the bright lights lit the hospital room, and the first face you met is with Tyler; he had a cut on his face going over his nose. His smile grew as you made eye contact. "Hey there.." He softly spoke, his hand still slowly stroking your hair. "What.." Your voice hurt, throat was dry, and you had a lot of head pain. He shushed you quietly before placing a loving kiss on your forehead before speaking.
"The truck flipped over... and a lot of crazy things happened. but you were the most injured. Some brain damage and bleeding. but nothing too bad." His face frowned as he gave you the story of what had happened that day. 
"How long..?" You slowly leaned up with the help of Tyler and a couple of tears.
"Three weeks." Those words shocked you; it only felt like you were out for a mere second. Taking a good look around the room, you looked and saw flowers and a comfy blanket at the bottom of the bed. "Javi and the others?" You turned your head with a wince. 
Tyler gave a kiss to your hand before he took a seat beside the bed. "They are all alright, I promise you. They even visited you, but you won't remember since you were out," letting out a soft laugh. You gave him one in return, which sounded heavenly to him; not hearing your laugh in three weeks was a nightmare for him. not knowing if you'd ever wake up.
Tyler looked at you with such love; his hand never let go of yours. placing one kiss upon your hand once more before speaking. "Can you promise me something?" His eyes looked at you, silently begging you to hear his question, giving him a slight nod. "Promise me that anytime from now on you will always tell me when something feels wrong or you feel uneasy, please." Reading his face, your injury left him tired, eye bags under his eyes, almost as if he waited those three weeks for you to wake up. Placing your hand on his cheek softly, caressing with your thumb before speaking up. "I promise"
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ilys00ga · 6 months
Text
𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲.
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➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.
➞ word count: 1k
➞ synopsis: "yoongi and reader making a meal together for yoongi's parents" with a little bit of a domestic twist.
➞ genre: established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, just fluffy fluff fluff, they cook together, dad!yoongi, nothing goes wrong, dad!yoongi, just pure happiness, they also call it tooth-rotting fluff lol, did I mention: DAD!YOONGI ???, they have a babygirl uwu <33
➞ A/N: first off, thank u anon for sending me this super cute prompt, I loved it and had sm fun writing it!! second, EID MUBARAK TO MY FELLOW MUSLIMS OUT THEREEE <3 this is my lil gift for yall on this eid. it wasn't supposed to be this long tbh, and I haven't written anything for over a month, so, sorry if this is kind of messy and all over the place??? im trying to get my sht together again. but I really liked the prompt and!!! had to write it!!!! kkk enjoy bbys <3
ps. any form of feedback is reallyyyy appreciated. I live for compliments :) !
★ MASTERLIST.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
It was one warm spring morning.
Yoongi was back from a long series of concerts just a couple of days ago. Grateful to be finally home with the two people that mean the absolute world to him. Your cat was purring on his chest as the two of you laid on the bed, enjoying the quiet of Saturday that had just begun, when his mother called to announce that, later that evening, she and his father would be coming over.
One thing led to another, and there you stood with your husband in the kitchen. One was chopping ingredients up by the stove, the other handling a mixer. Your two years old baby girl, Nara, was sitting in her high chair somewhere away from the oven and any other harmful thing. What used to be your favorite playlists playing ever so softly in the background as you fixed yourselves your favorite meals, together, was replaced with the mindless blabbering of your sweet baby girl instead, playing with the wooden spoon you had given her to play with some minutes before.
“Is this good?” Yoongi dipped the tip of his finger into the mixture he’s been working on, and carefully brought it up to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction as soon as the flavors hit your taste buds, a little bit taken aback at how he nailed your mother’s secret recipe only in the first try, “Great. You’re getting so good at this, Yoonie. I think you should take over kitchen duties very soon.”
He snorted, “If that means I’ll never have to do the laundry ever again, then sure.”
Feigning annoyance, you hissed at him, “You’re so lazy.”
“No one likes doing laundry, honey. Not even you.”
"You're so annoying."
Your daily bickering banters were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing from the other room. He left to take the call, leaving you with your noisy little baby. The chef hat she had on her head–Yoongi's idea, by the way, along with the tiny apron she wore as well–was almost too big on her. It made her look a thousand times more adorable that you immediately started grinning and cooing when she looked up at you.
"And what about you chef? Are you having fun?"
She balled her fists up and raised them in the air, wiggling in her seat to let you know that she wanted to be picked up. Being the ever so whipped mom that you were, you scooped her up in your arms right away, and peppered kisses all over her chubby face. Her giggles seeped through your skin and locked into your bones, aching with a sickeningly utmost adoration.
“Mom said they’re almost here.” Said Yoongi upon entering the kitchen, putting his phone atop the table and smiling as soon as his eyes fell on the two of you—his girls.
“Are you being a good chef assistant, baby?” He cooed, kissing her cheek, then leaning in to leave a peck on your lips.
“She’s been blabbering her life off the whole time you were gone." you hummed.
“Mom is going to have a good time conversing with her this evening.”
“We’re almost done cooking now.” You reminded him, “Honey, check on the oven please.”
“Right.”
A wave of heat hit his face as soon as he opened the oven, but he smiled once he checked on the muffins, “they are done.”
When he took the tray out and swiftly put it on the counter, Nara erupted in a fit of loud blabber, flailing the arm that clutched on the wooden spoon in the air and almost smacking your face in the process.
It had your husband giggling, of course. He couldn’t help but join in and engage with her blather, how could he not when he got such an adorable chatterbox for a child? “Huh, Nini? The muffins are done! Yeah!”
He took her into his arms, allowing you to go check on the stewpot that was still boiling on the stove, before bringing her to have a look at the tray of the mouth watering muffins, and cheered, “look!”
Your heart, yet again, swooned, almost oozing out of your ribs with how tight your chest grew to be at the sound of your baby’s joyful squeals. She was all excited as her daddy showed her around the process of cooking the dinner for her grandparents.
Nara was having the time of her life. For some reason, she's always loved being in the kitchen. Yoongi once made a comment about her becoming a successful chef, which then turned into a long, heartwarming talk about your daughter and her future. The gentle smile Yoongi had on his face throughout that was one to die for, especially when he sulked about not wanting your babygirl to grow up. His pout was so intense, you ended up engulfing him in a bone crushing hug for almost half an hour.
It was moments like this one that you wished were pictures so you could cut them up and hide them. Somewhere deep inside your heart. Forever. That's how you often found yourself observing and admiring every single interaction your husband made with your baby, and that’s how you ended up listening attentively as he continued to talk so passionately and earnestly with her, while simultaneously attempting to work with his free arm to the best of his abilities.
She, at one point, got so ecstatic that she accidentally thrusted her arm forward and hit him in the face with that spoon. But he only turned to look at you with an affectionate smile.
Struggling through a fit of giggles, you slipped the wooden object from her grasp and gave her a big kiss; making sure to squish her doughy cheeks—a trait that she definitely got from her father, “No more hitting mama and papa for you!”
The little girl’s squeaks only got louder as she reached out with her arms towards you, addressing you with more words of her very own and special language.
“Family hug?” you asked, glancing at a grinning Yoongi.
“Family hug!” He wrapped his free arm around you, bringing your body closer so that Nara could get a hold of you as well, then added, “but let’s make it a short one or else my parents are going to come to a burnt dinner.”
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bayjaruchel · 11 months
Text
Never Too Much
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---
Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: There are certain things that your boyfriend really likes to do. (2.2k, mostly cunnilingus | originally posted on ao3) | Masterlist )
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Mike takes his time with you, when he can. 
He likes being able to pace himself. By now, he knows your body very well; every curve and harsh edge, every single little detail. He's traced up your contours with his fingertips and kissed all the way back down again. Even though he's generally not the best at keeping calm, he's a very patient lover when given the chance to be. After your first few— and frantic — times together, he's slowed down considerably. 
However, there are still exceptions to that pattern.
Like when you don't have the time for anything slow; such as the minutes before he has to get ready for work. When you're both still a little groggy, but still need each other. Or when he knows he won't be free for most of the day, and you want to make it up to him. You fumble for each other, a determined clash of hands and lips and warm skin, both desperate to make the other person finish first. The sheets get twisted awkwardly around his legs— the hardwood floor makes your knees sore— but it's completely and utterly worth it. For every time you can't properly make love— in the purest definition of the phrase— there's always going to be a time when you leave each other completely breathless and spent afterward. No matter the technique, he's mastered the art of thoroughly taking you apart. 
There is one specific thing that Mike just can't be patient with, though. 
"Shit—" 
He's always been eager to eat you out. 
No matter the time or place. It could be during one of those brief periods, or during the long hours of the night where you have all the time in the world. He just can't wait. And he isn't waiting right now, even redoubling his efforts when you tighten your grip in his hair. His head bobs, slightly, as he drags his tongue through your gathering wetness, up towards the aching apex of your pleasure. 
A gasp is punched from your lungs when Mike closes his lips around your clit and sucks, for just a moment, before returning to your cunt. He shifts forward to get even deeper than before, lapping at you in broad strokes, equally calculated and clumsy. His enthusiasm is palpable, as usual. The sounds he's making— almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then that send pleasant vibrations through you— they fill the air, easily overpowering everything else. His eyelashes flutter now and then, but occasionally he looks up at you, taking you in. You know how you look: nearly as disheveled as him. 
Your thighs twitch as he continues to savor you. Whenever he moves back up to gently flick your clit with his tongue, his breath comes in hot puffs through his nostrils. He always takes a deep inhale before diving back in, totally uncaring towards the way his spit and your slick must be dripping down his chin. He's not afraid to get messy. In fact, you think he likes it— he likes the evidence of your arousal clinging to your stubble, the knowledge of what he does to you. The knowledge of what he can do to you.  "Mike," you gasp again, "oh, fuck. That's— that's so good— " 
His mouth is still occupied, but he hums, muffled into your cunt. The praise has always done something for him. But you don't just say it because he likes it— you say it because you mean it, truly. The fact that you can see his hips shift a little at your words is just an added bonus. He hasn't even attempted to reach down to touch himself yet, even though you know he must be tenting his boxers. Even though you know that by the time you get close, there'll be a wet spot in the fabric.  
"You don't even have to beg for it anymore," you tease, even though you're too breathless for it to really land, "you know I'll let you do this again and again, even if I'm supposed to be doing something else." You're a sucker for him, and he knows it. Biting your lower lip, you use the hand in his curls to tug him closer. He's just like putty in your hands. "Maybe you like to beg a little, huh? Is that right?" 
You decide to take his answering moan as a yes. Mike looks up at you with heavy hazel eyes— pleading, again— wanting to tell you what he wants, but he also doesn't want to stray from his task at hand. Sometimes you wonder what you did to earn this. It's practically worship, at this point. You make a hasty mental note to repay him later, but it's hard to concentrate when he's putting all of his effort into pushing you towards your orgasm. You can feel your muscles tensing, the heat in your abdomen building—   
He's gradually focusing more and more of his attention on your clit now. But he's still dragging his tongue through your cunt, tasting you, collecting what's accumulating there. You jolt when his nose bumps against your sensitive nub, providing much-needed friction in the absence of his tongue. Although you definitely aren't the first person that he's done this to, you know for a fact that you're the person he's done this the most to. How do you know? He's told you himself. 
Cuntdrunk is a good word to describe him. If he could, he'd live between your thighs forever. 
You choke on a whimper. Mike takes in that sound— greedily, needily, he needs more. Scrambling to get a grip on one of your knees, he squeezes it once, pulling it closer to his head. And you understand the signal immediately. You close your thighs around his head, essentially trapping him where he is. Forcing him deeper. His brow furrows, nose pressed against your clit. The first time he wanted you to do this, you were afraid that he'd suffocate; that you'd hurt him. But by now, you're well aware that it won't happen, as long as you're careful not to push him down too much. 
He really likes being pushed like this, though. It empties his head, he says. Yours is pretty empty at the moment, too. You're blissfully absent, hardly tethered to Earth. You only really register the feeling of his hair tickling your thighs and shins, from where you've got them positioned— the pillow underneath your hips— his tongue. The pace he's keeping now is almost feverish— 
— minutes pass, and you're so, so, close. You can feel it, toes curling when he sucks on your clit again. You can't bite back the sounds that you're making anymore, your mouth falling open as your breathing grows more uneven the closer you get. Your thighs tighten an increment, your heart pumping furiously. The sensations are nearly overwhelming, but you can do little except take what he's giving you. "Just like that— mmhn — keep going, that's perfect—" 
You're teetering on the edge for a split second, but what finally pushes you over is another glance downward. Mike is— to put it simply — ruined. 
His hair's all messy from when you'd been tugging at it earlier, his cheeks a brilliant red. Almost the entire lower half of his face proudly displays the confirmation of what he's been doing this entire time. If his eyes weren't shut, you know they would be hazy, glazed-over— you haven't even touched him yet, disregarding a few kisses— and he's already fucked-out. All because of you. 
"Mike!" You squirm, eyes squeezing shut, "Mike, I'm—" 
He groans into your pussy when you cum, eagerly licking up all the remnants of your orgasm. The coil unwinds in waves, which crash through your lower body. 
He works at you until the abrupt heat in your gut fades away, replaced by a relaxed warmth, and you start shuddering with oversensitivity. 
You could let him continue— he'd keep going for as long as he possibly could. He'd make you cum as many times as humanly possible if you let him. However, you release his head from between your thighs instead, letting your legs slip down to lay on his shoulders. As soon as he's free, he starts taking deep lungfuls of air, catching his breath. Just like you. Which is sort of ironic, since he was the one doing all the work. 
He rests his cheek on your inner thigh, leaving a wet smear there. You can't really bring yourself to care, though. 
Mike looks at you, still bleary-eyed. 
" 'S good?" He asks, hoarsely. 
You know you're not done with him yet. 
"Yeah." Fondly, you smile down at him. He easily returns it. When you scooch back to sit up against the headboard, he instinctively shuffles forward to fill the newly created space. Your eyes flick downward when he goes to sit up, too, finally exposing his lap— 
"Uh." Mike clears his throat. 
"Could you … " He trails off, but you doubt it's entirely because of embarrassment. 
"I was already planning on it," you reply lightly, already going to place one hand on the back of his neck to tug him closer. He goes, and positions himself so he's hovering over you; spreading his knees just so, he's still looking at you reverently. 
"That's good," he breathes. 
"You want me to suck you off or something?" The suggestion is extremely casual, like always. But his breath still audibly hitches, and he swallows.  
"... You want me to blow in five seconds?" 
Snorting, you thumb over his cheek. He leans into your touch, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "I'm serious," he insists, voice low. "It'd be really terrible. You don't want that, right?" 
"I don't know." You shrug as best you can. "It's kind of hot, knowing that you got that worked up from just eating me out." 
He contemplates this for a second. 
"Fair enough." 
But then, he drops his tone and murmurs, "I still don't want it to end that quickly." 
"You don't?" 
"I don't." 
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, and pretend to ignore the snicker it elicits from him. 
"But I was looking forward to returning the favor." 
It's Mike's turn to shrug. "Plenty of other opportunities for that later, y'know." 
Admitting defeat is the worst thing ever. 
"I guess you're right," you concede. "Fine." 
"I guess I'm— " he starts to mimic under his breath, but the rest of his words are expelled in a single whoosh when you squeeze him through his boxers. "— fuck." 
A crease forms between his eyebrows again as you continue to feel him out. You were right. Near where his tip was resting, you can feel a small, slightly damp spot. It's enough to make you throb, once— no matter how many times this happens, you'll never get used to this. Your patience is quickly failing, like his.
"You were saying?" You ask innocently, while hooking your fingers in his waistband. 
Mike quickly shifts from his previous snark, right back to need. 
"I was— I was saying—" His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, "— how much I need you to touch me right now. " The last part of his sentence is barely a whisper. "Please."   
And there it is, you want to quip, but you think you've done enough for now. His boxers come off easily, and you unceremoniously wrap your hand around his cock. That's enough to make him shudder, a small noise escaping his parted lips. There's no need for build-up anymore, so you just start pumping him. He quakes, and then leans in, nudging your nose with his. Wordlessly asking permission. 
You can still taste a little of yourself on his tongue when you kiss him, leisurely. You drink in what was previously muffled by your cunt. He twitches in your palm, lips pliant and tender against yours, but still a discernible force. A comfortable presence, sharing the same breaths as you. He kisses you again and again until he has to draw back for air. 
Mike breathes your name, high-pitched and trembling, as warmth shoots into your hand a few minutes later. 
"That's it," you murmur, coaxing the rest of it out of him, "that's it. There you go." 
You both just lay there for a couple of long moments. It feels like raw electricity wherever your bare skin is touching his. It's like a current, of sorts. He's still shaking, faintly, either from the exertion or the fact that he's most likely still a little oxygen-deprived. It's probably a nice mix of both. But when that subsides, you both reluctantly roll off the bed, clumsily plodding to the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
The tile is cool underneath your bare feet. He stands nice and still as you clean your dried cum off his face. You stay nice and still while he cleans you up, too.
When you're throwing the used towel in the laundry bin, he speaks up. Now that the residual heat has faded, you can feel goosebumps starting to prickle across your skin. 
"I love you," he says. 
You are both naked, a little damp, and standing in the bathroom. 
But somehow, it all fits together. It makes sense. 
You turn to face him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, and his hands automatically land on your hips. Mike watches you, obvious worry glimmering in his eyes. He's unsure if that was the right thing to say. 
Then: 
"I love you," you conclude. 
The tension all but melts from his shoulders. 
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SO LET ME LOVE YOU
Brushing genshin and honkai men's hair (Blade, Aventurine, Baizhu, Wanderer and Zhongli included)
General masterlist
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Blade
You sighed, admiring Blade's long, shiny hair. You almost couldn't believe your lover finally allowed you to take care of him in such sweet way after days of asking him for it with your best puppy eyes. You brushed through his hair with your fingers, they were silky smooth and much softer than you expected. Probably living with so many girls in Stellaron Hunters headquaters rubbed off on him and he had decent haircare routine.
-What are you waiting for? - Blade chuckled. - Few minutes ago you were so eager to become my personal stylist.
You blushed heavily, grateful that he can't see your face right now. Blade sat in a chair in front of you, facing the window. You glance at snowflakes dancing on the wind outside before turning your eyes back to the back of his head. You began to detangle his hair, starting from the bottom and slowly working your way up through layers of his strands. You noticed Blade relax over time, his head learning back comfortably and shoulders dropping down slightly. When you reached his scalp Blade's breathing got suspiciously regular. Massaging the skin his head with your fingertips you heard soft purring sounds coming from him. You realized he fell asleep and snored quietly. In this state he reminded you of an old, lazy cat. You just wanted to scratch behind his ear. Being his source of comfort filled your heart with joy.
Aventurine
You loved those cozy evenings at Aventurine's place. Dimmed, indirect light in his bedroom giving your bodies soft glow, Aventurine humming sweet, foreign melody unknown to you and sensation of expensive sheets under your skin. Words were unnecessary. There was nothing to say or ask about, you were by his side when he won game after game and when he was fighting for his life. Now you wanted to help him get rid of the tension from his body. His job exciting and well-paid, but very dangerous one. Constantly chasing money, fighting and dealing with his enemies left a toll on his mind.
So you reach for the brush on his nightstand and he immediately turnes around, so you can brush his hair for him. Even his locks smelled like luxury, after years of poverty and humiliation he was not shy to invest in himself. Since you started hanging out with him your own skincare and haircare routine got so much better, Aventurine bought only the best things for you. He wanted you both to look perfect on every business meeting, not to mention nights he went to casino with you as his lucky charm.
As you brushed through his hair for him you noticed his sharp and calculating eyes follow your every move in the mirror. Sometimes you thought you knew him like nobody else after all you have been through together, he even told you so much about his past. Yet moments like this were a reminder.
No matter what, he will never let himself be vulnerable again in front of anybody, not even you. He never fully takes off his mask, waiting for the blow to come. You couldn't blame him for not being able to let go of his defenses, not after all he went through, all those years he was forced to keep his guard up to survive. Not when he protected you, took care of all your wants and needs and and chose you to be at the top of the world with him. Even if it wasn't easy to love him, knowing you will never be able to truly see the man behind the persona.
Wanderer
Wanderer would rather die than admit just how much it meant to him when you initiated intimate moments like this. Of course, he could order you to come closer and massage his back or fix his clothes for him, but he hated to beg for attention, afraid of rejection and pushing you away with needy behaviour.
To him it seemed like the world stopped around the two of you when your nails gently scratched his head, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. Your hands went lower, teasing his neck and shoulders. Wanderer exhaled loudly, if his skin wasn't synthetic it would be covered in goosebumps by now. Your warm hands left his body to grab his favourite wooden comb, adorned with intricate carvings and jade.
Wanderer never slept, his body didn't need such human thing and memory of being discarded for crying in his sleep haunted him still, after all those years. So why when you gently brush through his like this he can't resist the urge to close his eyes? You both know he won't shed a single tear this time, with you by his side.
Baizhu
Days flew by fast in Bubu Pharmacy, beloved doctor selflessly served all his patients, sometimes at his own expense, sacrificing even his own health and free time. As he became more and more successful and famous, people from whole Teyvat sought him out, putting their trust in his legendary effectiveness. Burden on your lover's shoulders grew each day, but despite his own physical condition he never gave up on his clients.
Your heart was breaking at sight of Baizhu overworking himself for the third week in a row, your man just returned from the Pharmacy, barely touched his dinner and sat down to write prescriptions. Fortunately, you knew just what to do.
- You have so much on your head, dear - you spoke in a soothing, low voice. - Can I help you with at least one thing and brush your hair for you?
Baizhu looked at you with tenderness in his tired eyes, and pulled out his hairpin, muttering thanks with relief. His long strands cascaded down his back and fell down his surprisingly toned arms you loved to hide in so much. He flexed a bit, finding your reaction to his body cute. You couldn't hide your blush when your eyes fixated on his biceps.
You went behind him, rolling your eyes at Chansheng's teasing remarks. His hair were in great condition, long and voluminous, regularly oiled up and always styled flawlessly. When you effortlessly detangled those smooth like silk strands Baizhu put his paperwork down for once and leaned back into your touch.
You wished for this intimate moment to last as long as possible. You put his hair in a fishtail sealing it with a kiss. Next thing you knew you were embraced by your beloved in your shared bed.
Zhongli
Even in his human form your beloved geo archon could be intimidating, with powerful aura and divine light shining in his eyes, his true might peaked through mortal disguise.
Now, hidden by the walls of your shared home, ancient dragon took on the most natural and comfortable form, letting his draconic features show. His tail curled up in your lap, intricate golden patterns on his skin illuminating the room, pair of horns adorning his head, even scales showing up here and there looked like they manifested straight out of legends. In this moment you were so aware of your own fragility and mortality, understanding that the one you touch is eternal and wields power beyond your comprehension.
As if not mindful of how undeserving you felt to touch him in this form, Zhongli craved to be as close to you as possible when he let his draconic nature come out. He always had to touch you in some way, usually putting his tail around your waist. This time he sat by your feet on expensive pillows, while you occupied his usual place on the couch.
He was so tall you could almost lay your chin down on top of his head, instead you rubbed one of his horns, earning a low purr out of him. Your hand slid down, caressing his hair, so long and thick in this form. You noticed his purring got louder, it gave you an interesting idea.
- Darling, can I brush your hair? - you asked, already reaching for your brush.
- That would be sweet of you, my treasure. - he answered with charming smile.
You kisses him before taking care of his majestic mane. Surrounded by countless souvenirs from centuries long gone he collected for his herd, you wondered how much he lived through, all the friends he lost and lives of his people he watched from beginning to end, witnessing the world around him constantly changing. Did he remember all of them? He was a god of history, burdened with both a blessing and a curse to keep all those people alive in his memory. Does the grief pass if you can never forget?
Lost in your thoughts you didn't realize your fingers kept touching over the base of his horns. Soon, you felt Zhongli's embrace and his strong arms pulled you down on his lap.
- What are you doing? - you asked when he took the brush from your hand.
- Just returning the favour - he answered, letting your hair down.
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nerdyjournals · 6 months
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Thank you for your request! Other than the little mishap, this was a fun one to do! You really had me thinking over what each one would get upset over, so hopefully they all fit!
Bang Chan
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You could feel his eyes bore through you as Chan stared at you through the glass in the hospital door. He looked frazzled. Hair a mess, the bags under his eyes even worse than before.
He stepped in and you watched all the air escape him as he took in your bandaged wrist.
"And what have we learned?" He said, voice soft but stern.
"To wait until help arrives and to not be a stubborn and impatient baby," you whined as he lifted up your hand. "They said it'll be a week or so before I can lift anything."
"Do you see why I was so insistent that you wait?" You nodded. "Plus I have seven able body movers who were ready to help us later tonight after rehearsals."
You whispered another apology as he took you into his arms and held you tight.
"I'm just glad you're okay and it was nothing major."
Lee Know
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You felt yourself wince as you stepped over the threshold of your apartment. You had been hoping to do some spring cleaning before Minho got home so he could just rest.
He had told you to do it in stages so you wouldn't overwork and hurt yourself, but what do you do? You overwork and hurt yourself.
Now you softly flinch as you spot him sitting in an armchair that you swear was never positioned in the middle of the hallway.
"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" You scratched the back of your head nervously.
"Big time." Minho stood from the chair and walked over. "You know I tell you not to do things because I care about you, right?" You nod. "So why go against me?"
"I wanted you to have a nice place to rest since you've been working so hard, but I just screwed up again." He pulled you into a soft hug, silently trying to find where you were hurt. "You're not even supposed to be home early. Why are you here?"
"You always send me a photo of your food before my lunch break if you're home, and I know for a fact that you have today off."
"You were worried?"
"Don't tell the media. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know."
Okay, the laugh hurt a little bit.
Changbin
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The front door opened and closed without Changbin's usual fanfare. Yup, you were in trouble.
His figure came around the corner with a small pharmacy bag and two cups of boba. Okay, so he wasn't that mad....yet.
"Are you okay?" Those words shocked you, having been ready for his beratement or something along those lines.
"I'm okay. A little sore, but okay." He walked over and handed you the drink and bag. "I thought you said you'll be late tonight."
"And I knew that if I didn't come home at my earliest convenience, you'd try something stupid again." You pouted as both of you knew he was right. "I know you want our first place to be perfect, but we have all the time in the world to decorate."
"I work from home, Bin. I need something to do other than watching a computer screen for eight hours."
"Then bring your laptop with you and visit the studio. The guys won't mind. They love you."
"Are you sure I won't be distracting?"
"Never. If anything, you might get annoyed with Jisung's antics."
"I'll take that risk."
Hyunjin
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The sound of feet rushing against the tile of your apartment floor brought you back to reality. Your little perch on the balcony slightly helped alleviate your headache.
Hyunjin stood there with a small pharmacy bag and a hand fan.
"Are you okay? Any breakouts or irritation?" He asked, worry filling his voice with each word.
"No. I got out quickly enough." You said, obviously tired. He switched on the hand fan and placed it yours as he set the bag aside. "I'm sorry."
"What were you doing in there anyway?"
"I wanted to clean up a bit. You were really stressed about it."
"I'd rather have a messy studio than have you in the hospital." His gaze drifted from you to the view. "Fresh air help?"
"Not as much as you."
Han
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Hearing footsteps approach, you quickly tried to get off the floor but to no avail.
"Aish..." Han's soft curse came from the doorway. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me before trying to unpack?"
The two of you had moved in together recently and your stuff was the last to unpack and also the heaviest.
"Did you finish your book already?" He asked as the two of you began to pick up the fallen novels. He could see your face scrunch at all the bent pages and covers.
"I thought the next one was in the stack of opened boxes. I just wanted to start and not have to bug you for something so small."
"You enjoy reading, yeah?" You slowly nodded. "Then it's not so small. I think it's small when I interrupt your reading for a thirty second clip opinion."
You nodded and placed another book back in the box as he tilted your chin over to look him in the eyes.
"If any of your books got ruined, they're replaceable. You know what's not? You. So ask me next time, okay?"
Felix
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It was a little embarrassing to have Felix walk in and see you with your hand submerged in a bowl of water.
"I thought I told you to do an ice shower," he sighed as he placed the bag in the table.
"Why would I need to shower for just my hand?" You slowly lifted out of the water and showed off the damage. "How bad?"
"Well, it's not blistering so that's good." Felix grabbed the kitchen towel to dry pat your hand. "What were you doing anyway?"
"Taking cookies out of the oven." You pointed over to where a batch of cookies still sat on the baking sheet. "I couldn't find the mitts so i used the rubber ones, but the back of my hand touched the metal."
"You're very brave to even keep them on the tray while in pain." He put the cream on and began to wrap it. "You're not allowed to bake without me here anymore, okay? At least, not until this heals."
"Oh no. I have to spend more quality time with my boyfriend. Whatever shall I do?" The sarcasm dripped from your words, making him smile and press against the injury.
"Don't make me regret it."
Seungmin
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His steps were frantic as he unlocked the apartment door. Part of him was thankful they had chosen to put security cameras in the house, but the other part cursed him cause it forced him to watch his partner take a nasty fall.
"Y/N?" He didn't raise his voice, knowing that you might have a bad headache.
Your hand peeked out from behind the kitchen island and he rushed over. He found you leaned against the cabinet with an ice pack against the back of your head.
"Hey," he whispered, "1 to 10?" You held up four fingers then four more. "Can you stand?" You signed out the sign for 'no.' "Can I carry you? I got the car running outside." You signed 'yes.' "Talking hurts?" You signed 'yes' again as he carefully lifted you into his arms.
You signed 'sorry' as you made it to the car.
"Why are you apologizing? It was an accident and the guys understand that." He gently placed you in the passenger seat. "They will want an update once you're all clear, okay?"
You signed 'okay.'
I.N
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Something was off. You had been avoiding his hand ever since he got home. Normally Jeongin won't mind, but you won't even hold it in front of you.
"You tried to hook up the gundam already, didn't you?" He said as he watched you freeze. "Show me the damage."
You slowly held your hand out, placing it softly in his. Small bandages say on a few knuckles while little red dots covered your palm.
"You tried to solder the wires without knowing how to use the tool, didn't you?" You tried to take your hand back but failed. "I told you to wait for me."
"But I wanted it done so that I could show it to you when you got home. Now it's just sitting there, taunting me."
"What's more fun? Building together or building alone?"
"Together." You sounded so shy.
"Then let's have dinner and we'll finish your project together." You nodded. "And then I yell at my brother to never give you a complicated set again."
"JEONGIN."
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artists-ally · 5 months
Note
Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!
{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter
This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3
Word Count: 3,998
Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.
Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22
Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.
~~~~~
“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.
I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”
“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”
“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”
“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”
I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”
“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”
“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”
Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”
A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”
“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”
“How did you know I had Chinese food?” 
“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.
Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho. 
I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma. 
The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.
And that felt amazing. 
I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top. 
21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second. 
The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head. 
There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again. 
When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein. 
“Yn,” a voice spoke. 
I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.” 
My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”
All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it. 
“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”
He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor. 
“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”
“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”
Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”
“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss.  “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”
I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”
“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”
“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”
A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again. 
“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap. 
“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look. 
“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?” 
Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front. 
Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.
To my Yn,
Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep. 
You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise. 
I love you. <3 Harvey
I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in. 
“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”
He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”
I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”
“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me. 
Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over. 
“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”
“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”
I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice. 
“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”
I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”
“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”
What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again. 
Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside. 
I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”
“Yup.”
“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”
“There is.”
“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”
“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes. 
“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”
“We’re going to China.”
Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”
Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”
“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there. 
“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”
“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”
“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"
“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip. 
But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this. 
We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face. 
Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go. 
“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans. 
“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes. 
He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own. 
I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.
He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.
“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”
“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”
“I just need you to-”
“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”
Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.
Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground. 
The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.
A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh. 
“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”
I just might. 
He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.
I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life. 
When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body. 
“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.
“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”
Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.
“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip. 
“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”
He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”
“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle. 
“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me. 
It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still. 
“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full. 
“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned. 
“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know my love, I know.”
With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.
~~~~~
With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow. 
He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”
“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…
“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”
“Why else are you up so early?”
“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”
My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”
“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”
“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”
“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”
My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”
“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”
“More than you could ever know.”
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pucksandpower · 3 months
Text
Silverstone Silver Linings
Charles Leclerc x Oscar Piastri x George Russell x Reader
Summary: the British Grand Prix was a difficult race for all three of your boys, luckily you have an idea to make it better
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The hotel room door clicks open, revealing three dejected figures silhouetted in the hallway. Charles, Oscar, and George shuffle inside, their clothing rumpled and their expressions downcast.
You sit up on the bed, concern etching your features as you take in their defeated postures. “Oh, darlings,” you murmur, opening your arms. “Come here.”
The three drivers gravitate towards you, drawn by the comfort you offer. Charles flops face-first onto the bed with a muffled groan. Oscar perches on the edge, running a hand through his tousled hair. George paces restlessly, unable to settle.
“That was ... not ideal,” Oscar says, his voice strained.
You reach out to stroke his back soothingly. “I know, love. You all drove brilliantly, though. Sometimes things just don’t go to plan.”
George lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. A bloody water system issue? After starting on pole? It’s like the universe was laughing at me.”
“At least you didn’t have to suffer through the whole race,” Charles mumbles into the duvet. “I felt like such an idiot out there.”
You frown, tugging gently at Charles’ shoulder until he rolls over to face you. “Hey now, none of that talk. You followed the call that seemed right at the time because you trusted your team. How were you supposed to know the rain would stop and Ferrari fed you wrong information?”
Charles sighs, his eyes meeting yours. “I know, I know. It’s just ... frustrating. I thought maybe this would be our weekend, you know?”
Oscar nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. P2 felt so close I could taste it. Then being held out without pitting ...” He trails off, shaking his head.
You pull Oscar closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You showed everyone what you’re capable of today. That won’t be forgotten.”
George finally stops pacing, sinking onto the bed next to you. “I just feel so ... helpless. Like no matter what I do, something always goes wrong.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands. “You can’t control everything. What matters is how you handle the setbacks.”
Charles props himself up on an elbow, a hint of a smile finally tugging at his lips. “She’s right, you know. We’re lucky to have such a wise girlfriend.”
Oscar chuckles softly. “And a patient one. How do you put up with three moody drivers?”
You grin, playfully ruffling his hair. “It’s not easy, but someone’s got to do it.”
George leans into your touch, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “We don’t deserve you, truly.”
“Nonsense,” you reply, pulling him closer. “You all deserve the world. And I intend to remind you of that.”
Charles’ eyes spark with interest as he finally seems to notice your attire. “Is that ... new?” He asks, gesturing to the lacy ensemble.
You blush slightly, a coy smile playing on your lips. “Maybe. I thought you boys might need some cheering up after the race.”
Oscar’s gaze roams appreciatively over you. “Well, consider me thoroughly distracted.”
George grins, some of his usual charm returning. “You know, I’m suddenly feeling much better about that DNF.”
You laugh, the sound bright and infectious. “Good. That was rather the point.”
Charles sits up fully, his earlier despondency forgotten as he drinks in the sight of you. “You are far too good to us, mon amour.”
“Never,” you insist, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “You all work so hard. You deserve to feel appreciated.”
Oscar’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently. “How did we get so lucky?”
You turn to him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m the lucky one, darling.”
George wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I beg to differ,” he murmurs against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
Charles watches the exchange with darkening eyes. “Perhaps we should show our appreciation more ... thoroughly?”
You bite your lip, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. “I certainly wouldn’t object.”
Oscar’s fingers trail along your collarbone, feather-light. “Where should we start?”
“I have a few ideas,” George says with a roguish grin, his earlier frustration melting away.
You laugh, playfully swatting at his chest. “I’m sure you do, Mr. Russell.”
Charles moves behind you, his arms encircling your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “And what about you, chérie? What do you desire?”
Your breath catches as Oscar’s hand skims up your thigh. “I ... I just want you all to feel better.”
George cups your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “Oh, we feel much better already. But we’d like to return the favor.”
Oscar nods in agreement, his voice low. “Let us take care of you for a change.”
You melt into their touches, overwhelmed by the love and desire radiating from all three men. “Well, when you put it that way ...”
Charles chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back. “I think that’s a yes, hmm?”
George’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, effectively silencing any further discussion. You lose yourself in the sensations, grateful for the chance to comfort your boys and be comforted in return.
As clothes are shed and caresses grow bolder, the disappointments of the day fade away. In this moment, there is only love, passion, and the unbreakable bond between the four of you.
Later, as you lie tangled together in a blissful haze, Charles breaks the comfortable silence. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about today.”
Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Mhm. Any day that ends like this can’t be all bad.”
George laughs, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I have to agree. Though I still wouldn’t mind a do-over of that race.”
You roll your eyes fondly. “Always the competitors, aren’t you?”
Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “Can you blame us? We like to win.”
“Well,” you say with a mischievous smile, “I’d say you all won today, wouldn’t you?”
Charles’ eyes sparkle with amusement. “Absolutely. Though I think we should double-check, just to be sure.”
George nods solemnly, though his lips twitch with suppressed laughter. “Very true. We wouldn’t want any doubt about the results.”
You giggle as Oscar’s fingers find a ticklish spot on your ribs. “And how do you propose we do that?”
The three drivers exchange a look, matching grins spreading across their faces. “I’m sure we can think of something,” Oscar says, his voice full of promise.
As hands begin to wander once more, you send up a silent prayer of thanks for these three incredible men and the love you share. No matter what challenges they face on the track, you know that together, you can weather any storm.
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harunayuuka2060 · 15 days
Text
WHB Series #1 (Cont.)
Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Lucifer: *are in a meeting to discuss the situation in heaven*
Leviathan: Over the past few weeks, we've been hearing cries from above, followed by silence, only for the sound to repeat again.
Leviathan: It appears the slaughter of angels is still ongoing.
Lucifer: Let’s not forget that young devils are being released and sent to the countries best suited to their abilities.
Lucifer: I've recently received ten young devils.
Mammon: Not bad. I've got 30 young devils.
Beelzebub: *chuckles* Well, it seems that Belphie and I are the only kings who haven’t been given young devils.
Belphegor: It's because the descendant of Solomon thinks we're irresponsible.
Belphegor: *smiles* Not that they're wrong though.
Satan: Have got any news on what MC is doing?
Leviathan: ...
Leviathan: I've tried going there myself, but it seems the security has been tightened, making it difficult for outsiders to enter.
Leviathan: However, I encountered two angels who willingly told me what the descendant of Solomon was up to.
Leviathan: And according to them, they-
Random Angel A: ...Fixing the system.
Random Angel B: We may be assigned to the human world for our new duties.
The kings: ...
Satan: Ah, it reminds me of their military training.*laughs*
Mammon: Anything else?
Leviathan: ...
Leviathan: Foras will attempt to visit them next time.
Mammon: I see. Oh, I almost forgot.
Mammon: Are we going to call them 'god' the next time we meet?
Satan: No, don't do that.
Lucifer: I agree. I doubt the descendant of Solomon would like it.
Belphegor: Huh... But didn't you say so yourself that they're the reincarnation of god?
Lucifer: I did; however, for them, it was all an act to subdue the angels.
Beelzebub: That's true. Besides, I don't think 'love' is even in their vocabulary.
Satan: Hey! They can love!
Leviathan: Yes. Love for animals.
The kings: ...
MC: *with their head resting on Michael's lap as they look through the names of the remaining angels*
Michael: ...
Gabriel and Raphael: ...
Raphael: God, you could have used me as your pillow. I'd be more than willing.
MC: You and Gabriel won't stop fighting, so it's better this way.
Michael: 'Better this way'? Are you confident that I won't kill you?
MC: *looks at him with a bored expression*
MC: You've had many chances to kill me, including this one.
MC: It's not my fault you're incompetent.
Michael: ...
Raphael and Gabriel: ...
MC: *sigh* *gets up*
MC: Gabriel, Raphael, let's go.
MC: There are still rats lurking in the corners of heaven. *talking about the angels who escaped Raphael and Gabriel*
Foras: Is this what they're doing now?
MC: *watches as the lower-rank angels get killed*
Foras: ...
MC: What are you doing here, Foras? Did Leviathan send you?
Foras: !!!
Foras: ...
Foras: Yes.
MC: What for?
Foras: His Majesty has been curious about what you've been up to.
MC: You can see for yourself.
Foras: ...
MC: Raphael.
Raphael: *turns to look at them* *smiles* Yes, god?
MC: ...
MC: I noticed that some of them are good-looking ones. Who created them?
Raphael: They're angels under Michael's guidance.
MC: Ah. Save their heads. I'm going to recycle them.
Raphael: ...
Foras: *his eyes widened*
Raphael: ...
Raphael: As you wish, god.
Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: *begins crushing the heads of the dead angels beneath his feet*
MC: Gabriel, that's enough.
Gabriel: But—
MC: *gives him a stern look*
Gabriel: ... *blushes*
Foras: ...
Foras: It seems you have it under control.
MC: *proud smile* Right?
Raphael and Gabriel: *thinking that the smile is for them*
Raphael: *accidentally crushed the head he's holding*
Raphael: ...
Gabriel: Pft—
MC: ...
MC: What a shame. I liked that one.
Raphael: ...
Raphael: I'll be more careful next time.
Foras: ...
Leviathan, Barbatos, and Glasyalabolas: ...
Glasyalabolas: I wish I could've seen that myself.
Barbatos: Did they tell you what they would do with those?
Foras: No.
Leviathan: ...
Foras: Your Majesty?
Leviathan: ...
Leviathan: *chuckles* Let's wait to find out what it is.
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
Text
Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you
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Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...
Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted
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Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.
Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.
“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”
And probably the biggest pain in your ass.
“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.
His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?
“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”
You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?
“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.
“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”
“I’d love to see you try, princess.”
“I’ve never seen you around here.”
The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.
There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.
“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.
Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain
“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.
“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”
You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.
It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.
Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?
“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”
What.
On.
Earth.
Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-
“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.
You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.
You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?
“Hey, look at me.”
Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.
“Tell me you don’t believe her.”
“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.
He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.
“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”
It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…
Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.
Affection? For Gojo?
“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.
He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.
What a pathetic jerk you are.
You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.
“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.
“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.
You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?
“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”
Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.
Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.
This.
This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?
This right here.
Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.
Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.
“Believing me know?”
“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.
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serpentandlily · 1 year
Text
Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst
a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part III
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 
“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”
After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 
But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 
Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 
Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 
Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 
Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 
"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."
Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 
"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."
Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.
"So why are you here?"
"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.
You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 
"You did." 
"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”
"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"
You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 
"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."
You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?”
You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 
You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 
“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”
“You still said them.” 
“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”
You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 
“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”
You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”
“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”
“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 
Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 
“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 
“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 
“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”
You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”
But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 
When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.
Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 
You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.
Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 
You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 
You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.
“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 
The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 
But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 
Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.
Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.
They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 
You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 
Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—
Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 
Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 
You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 
“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 
Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”
Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”
He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 
You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 
Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 
You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.
Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 
Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 
And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 
“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”
Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 
“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 
“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 
“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 
Rhys read from the letter out loud:
To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,
I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.
In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 
I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.
Sincerely yours,
Prince Cedric of Vallahan
Heir to the Throne
A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”
Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 
Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 
“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 
You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 
“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 
“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.
“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 
“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 
“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 
Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 
“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 
“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 
You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 
He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 
He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?
His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 
His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 
He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 
And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 
Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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