#t: secret dating

[yaoifuldnp]

my new favourite phan conspiracy is that dan did in fact run philslion but hes never mentioned it to phil and now its a 15 year long lie that he has to keep up that he DID run a fan account for his lion for 2 years

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

even in those quiet moments, i hear your voice

elriel month prompt six: words unspoken

NSFW.

Another Secret Dating Modern AU installment. Read other fics in the series here

It was the laziest of Sundays, but it had been a while since Azriel had spent the entire morning in bed. He probably hadn’t done so since his teen years, when he’d sneak out of the house with Cass and Rhys and binge drink the cheap beer they’d bought with a fake ID in the local park all night, coming home just before the sun rose and sleeping the entire following day away. But honestly, if all his mornings included Elain Archeron tangled in his sheets, her jasmine scented hair splashed across his pillows and soft skin pressed up against his, he would do it more often. 

Azriel had never thought he’d be the type of guy to be down so bad for a girl, but the more layers of Elain he got to uncover, the more he realised he was made for someone like her. The broody guy who loitered in shadows, falling for the sunshine flower girl. He snorted at the absolute irony of it.

He’d promptly ignored the incessant texts from Cassian at seven am, his brother hounding him to meet at the gym for a session. It wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Today he was going to do nothing but lounge around with his girl. She’d been busy all week with work and assignments, and he’d barely gotten a chance to see her. 

If it was just their schedules that kept them apart, he may have been more compliant in her absence, but they had the unfortunate burden of also having to sneak around their nosy siblings. He loved that Elain was so close with her sisters, and he with his brothers. After all, they were all each other had.

Their little group had only grown closer since Rhys and Feyre had introduced them all, and he loved the bonds he shared with each, but sometimes they were all just so damn clingy.

He chuckled, wondering what their group must look like to outsiders. Probably something like the Cullen’s… Azriel grimaced, it was Elain’s fault he even knew that reference.

Elain had come over late last night after a dinner shift at the restaurant. Tired and cranky, she had dumped her bags in the doorway and made a beeline straight for his shower, complaining she smelled of fried calamari and beer. Azriel had laughed, thinking she was being melodramatic. She always smelt fucking amazing. 

She had emerged from his tiny ensuite twenty minutes later, wrapped in an oversized towel with her hair thrown up in a messy bun and steam wafting out of the door behind her like tendrils of smoke. It had taken all his willpower not to stalk over to her, whip that towel off her body and throw her onto the bed. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

She had further sealed his fate, driving home the final nail in the I Love Elain Archeron coffin, when she’d gone rummaging through one of his drawers. She’d turned around with a proud grin on her face when she’d found what she was looking for; an old band tee he’d had since college. Throwing on the faded tee she loved to sleep in so much, she’d curled up in bed beside him, giving him a soft peck on the cheek before settling in. 

Azriel’s eyes had almost rolled into the back of his head. She smelled like his shower gel, and that, paired with the oversized t-shirt she wore, had him internally peacocking in some fucked up, masculine alpha-male type of way. Whatever. He loved seeing Elain in his clothes, even if that did make him some sort of primitive, territorial bastard. She tucked herself into his side and Azriel had all but beamed in male pride.

He’d thrown on a Netflix movie for them to watch, but it had barely been ten minutes in before she had fallen asleep, her face pressed into his chest as her breath fanned across his skin. He’d simply smiled down at her and pulled her closer, rubbing a hand down her back, bringing his palm to rest at her waist. He’d let her sleep, his own eyes growing heavy as the warmth from her tiny form drifted over him and lulled him into a peaceful slumber not long after.

The following morning, he'd awoken early but remained in bed, not wanting to disentangle himself from the limbs she had wrapped around him in their sleep. Elain dozed peacefully as he looked over at her, and not being able to resist her thrall any longer, he gingerly rolled over onto his side. Gently pushing aside the hair that had slid over her face, scarred fingertips fluttering over her serene expression, he pressed the softest of kisses to her nose.

She didn’t stir.

He leant forward again, peppering her face with feather-light kisses, brushing his lips lightly over her cheeks, her eyes, her temples, her jaw. 

With a deep exhale and a stretch of her legs, Elain’s eyes finally fluttered open, blinking as she adjusted to the light. The soft morning sunlight filtered through his window and gilded her hair in streaks of brilliant gold and honey brown. He couldn’t help but gape in awe at her, she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Morning,” she croaked, her voice still thick from sleep, face half buried in the pillow. 

His lips twitched into the ghost of a soft smile. Elain had breezed into his life just a few months ago, but in that short amount of time, she’d managed to awaken something deep within him that had long been slumbering. Something he had not even been sure he would ever possess, that vulnerable ability to open oneself up to another person entirely and just… trust. Yet here she was, making him fall head over heels for her in close to no time at all.

Beneath the rumpled sheets, she hitched a leg to rest over his hip and his skin prickled in response, delighted at her proximity.

He smirked, running a hand down her smooth thigh. “Morning, tater-tot.” 

She chuckled at the ridiculous nickname, and Azriel catalogued that laugh to memory. He couldn’t recall how it had started but every day since they’d been together, he’d think up of a new— albeit random— nickname to call her. She laughed every time, often remarking about the increasing ridiculousness of the names he gave her. He liked to keep her on her toes that way, and tater-tots were cute. Only psychopaths didn’t love potatoes.

Snaking an arm around her waist as his other hand gripped the thigh she had hitched on his hip, he tugged Elain across the sheets and into his embrace. Plunging his hand into her thick hair, he angled her face and kissed her, lazy and slow.

Her soft body melted into him as she sighed into it, kissing him back decadently as her hand came up from beneath the sheets to cup his cheek. He shuffled even closer to her, sidling up beside her, pressing their chests together. Elain in turn shifted, hitching her leg higher on his waist, sinking deeper into his sheets, all but mewling at his unhurried attention.

Azriel felt her delicate fingers creep up to card in the hair at the nape of his neck, her tongue laving at the seam of his lips. He opened for her, allowing his tongue to lazily caress hers as he kissed her, nice and slow, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth gently. 

A small whimper escaped her throat, her hips canting softly into his, and that was all it took to spur him into action. Gripping her thigh in his palm, Azriel rolled them over, settling himself on top of her, his hips cradled in the soft space she created for him between her split thighs. 

He tore his lips from hers, a true testament to his will. Or perhaps it was just proof of his hedonistic desire to simply stare at the way Elain was sprawled out beneath him, that debauched urge all but demanding he visually engross himself in how tantalizing she looked whilst spread out in his bed. 

She always looked beautiful, but there was something about this moment; the way her doe eyes would soften, the way her hair would lay tousled around her, the adorable pink flush colouring her cheeks… he would never tire of it. If he had any talent with a paintbrush or skill behind a lens, he would capture it to keep forever, but instead it was another thing he promised to commit to memory.

Holding himself above her, a muscled forearm resting on the pillow beside her head, Elain merely gazed up at him, a small, secret smile blooming across her lovely face. They never needed words, and yet they could always discern what the other conveyed. In the short time they’d been together, they’d become so proficient at quietly observing each other, they could often converse simply with a pointed look across the room or a subtle twitch of an expression. He loved that. He loved feeling seen by Elain, and in turn documenting her every little quirk, interpreting the meaning of each one of her silent cues. He intended to be proficient in the unspoken language of Elain Archeron and nothing could sway his determination.

He was so fucking done for.

Elain drew her arms up, slinging them about his shoulders, hands hanging limply behind him as her fingertips brushed his shoulder blades. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, and he couldn’t help but sink into her warm embrace, her body so supple and welcoming beneath him. 

The old t-shirt she wore had ridden up around her hips, and as he drew himself closer to kiss her, he pressed his hips firmly into the warm centre of her.

Something akin to a squeak escaped her lips, causing her in turn to wrap her long legs around his waist. He marvelled at her warmth, relished in doing nothing but exist in Elain’s hold. Kissing her deeply, keeping his machinations unhurried and languid, he couldn’t help but think he would happily live and die in this very spot. 

Shifting beneath him, Elain’s hands trailed up his body and dove into his hair, deepening the kiss as her thighs split imperceptibly wider, allowing his rapidly hardening cock to nestle snuggly against her. She loved it. She let loose a little breath, her back arching at the increased pressure on her sensitive folds. She bit his lip gently, unable to control the pleasure slowly building, and rolled her hips, seeking more friction where she needed it the most.

Azriel chuckled, pulling back once more to look down at her. Her pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness gone. In its place was a sultry, sexual profligacy, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she gazed back up at him.

“Az, I need… uh!” she trailed off at a particularly delicious roll of his hips.

Azriel tenderly brushed the golden strands of hair that had fallen into her face. “I know, baby,” he cooed, placating her with another languorous thrust of his hips, benevolently rolling into her, burying her deeper into his sheets with the motion.

Elain’s mouth popped open, her eyes heavy lidded, the brown of her irises sparkling with desire behind them. He lived to see her pleasure splashed across her face.

Running a hand down his chiselled abdomen, Elain pried open the waistband of his underwear and eased one slight hand beneath the cotton. Her fingers were exploratory, fondling him lightly before finally wrapping them around his shaft. His head flopped heavily between his shoulders at her touch, his mouth falling open with an exhale. 

Her touch immediately sent sparks of pleasure ricocheting through his veins, her fingers well practiced in his preferences. The pressure she applied was just how he liked it. Fuck.

Gathering his wits, he gripped the hem of the tee she wore and slowly pulled it up her torso, exposing her iridescent skin one slow inch at a time. Her grip around him tightened, unhurriedly stroking the hard length of him. 

Pulling the shirt up to her collarbones and exposing her breasts, his mouth watered at the sight of her curves, her peaked nipples ready and waiting for him to steal a taste. Lowering his face to her chest, he puckered his lips around the hardened bud of one, his tongue laving hungrily at her skin. A soft cry escaped her as she flung her head back into her pillow, her back arching beautifully.

The movement allowed him to twine a hand beneath her, pressing his palm firmly against her back to push her breasts into his face, effectively smothering himself in the swell of her curves.

Releasing her nipple from his mouth with a soft pop, Azriel licked his way across the valley of her breasts to the other side, lavishing the second with the same attention. He traced a broad hand around her waist and up to cup her breast, sinful fingers replacing where his mouth had just been, his tongue continuing to lick and suck at her chest with a reverence he reserved solely for Elain. He moaned at the taste, the scent and feel of her skin engulfing his senses completely.

He sucked and pulled and licked at her skin, teeth nipping the sensitive swells of her breasts until he’d left several blooming violet marks splashed lovingly across her chest. He knew she loved the little reminders of his passion, that the thought of wearing his love bites hidden beneath her clothes excited her. And he loved giving them to her. He could never get enough.

A short yelp escaped her at a particularly enthusiastic pass of his teeth against her hard nipple.

Seemingly decided she was done with being teased into oblivion, Elain had grown increasingly needy and pointedly pulled his cock free from his boxer briefs, stroking him with increased fervour.

She gripped him hard and twisted her hand around his shaft, just how he fucking liked it. Azriel shivered at her touch, hazily admiring the way she was able to work him up just as effectively as he had her. His blood pounded in his ears as he grew almost painfully hard, his cock leaking and standing at attention.

Elain continued to expertly stroke him, whilst the fingers of her other hand twined in his hair. Administering a sharp pull, the tug caused him to reluctantly tear his mouth away from her plush breasts.

He crooked a brow at her insistence, injecting a low timbre in his voice he knew drove Elain wild. “Yes?”

Her only answer was another soft whine as he pointedly rolled into her dripping folds again, her own hand still wrapped around his cock adding to the friction.

He gazed down at her, a smug grin blooming across his lips at the desperation he saw leaching from her. Her chocolate brown eyes smouldered and she all but trembled with want, his hips pinning her resolutely beneath him.

He watched the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly, the way her nipples had turned a bright pink from his ministrations, how her kiss-swollen lips parted as her breath panted out before her. She gazed at him how a hungry beast may observe its prey, and he knew that same desire was reflected in his own eyes. Stooping down for one last peck to the little dip between her collarbones, he settled onto his forearms, pressing his chest flush against hers.

Sensing her small hands fumble to line up his cock at her needy entrance, Elain exhaled contentedly, eyes beautifully fluttering into the back of her skull as he began to sink slowly into her. 

So soft. She was always so fucking soft, and tight and warm for him. And wet. She was so fucking wet.

He shuddered above her, pausing halfway, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion before he continued. Biting her lip, she slung her arms over his shoulders once more and urged him onwards with a small tilt of her hips, imploring him to go deeper. Silently begging him for more.

Rolling his hips into hers, she cried out as he finally pushed all the way in, her slickened walls enveloping him deliciously as she trembled beneath him. She looked up at him with that burning desire they both felt so acutely written across her face, her teeth sensually sinking into her plush bottom lip. She all but begged him to move, her eyes expressing everything she needn’t voice.

Pressing a kiss to her jaw, her neck, behind her ear, he nuzzled his face into her silken hair as he started to move. 

Rocking in and out of her slowly, he lengthened his strokes, feeling her clench deliciously around him with each pass. Her arms came to wrap around his middle and her nails scraped down his shoulder blades, a sure sign that Elain was holding herself back from tumbling over that edge too soon. He knew she wanted him to come with her. Knew she loved it when they found their pleasure simultaneously in a puddle of heaving chests and garbled pleas. He’d let her have it, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

Edging their way ever closer to their pleasure, he continued to plunge impossibly deeper into her, over and over, the feeling of her delicate muscles beginning to flutter around him. Their chests had grown slick with sweat causing them to slide against each other with each stroke, only adding to the debauched eroticism. Knowing she loved the stimulation to her nipples, loved his weight atop her, he pressed her more firmly into the mattress beneath them as he continued fucking into her. 

“God— Az!” 

It was a desperate, reverent plea, her fingernails scraping down the skin of his back leaving red marks in their wake.

Elain attempted to clasp her knees together, her taught thighs pressing into his sides as he continued to drive into her wet heat. Pulling his face from its resting place nuzzled against her neck, he lay his forehead against hers. 

Their hot breathes mingled in the space between them, gasps and moans falling from their lips as Azriel drove into her over and over, as deep as he could possibly go. Nudging that elusive knot of nerves he knew would have Elain seeing stars with every drive of his pelvis, a small cry bubbled from between her lips, her fingertips digging into his muscled back as he pounded into her. 

Feeling his own orgasm looming, he swiped his tongue into her mouth, catching the whimpers and cries she let loose like they sustained his very lifeblood.

Trying and failing to hold his composure, his movements grew sloppy and frantic as they both hurtled toward their climax, their bodies slamming together and edging ever closer to that summit. His head emptied of all other thoughts but Elain, Elain, Elain; and with one final, heavy thrust, she cried out, her face twisting into a pageant of pleasure. 

Her hands clutched frantically at his biceps as she came around his cock, her breath catching in her throat as her plump lips opened into a pretty O. The sounds of her orgasm reached their crescendo, and only moments passed before Azriel was following closely behind.

With a stuttered grunt and an echo of her name he spilled into her, her folds fluttering around his shaft, her tight inner muscles heightening his pleasure.

His mind short-circuited in his bliss, but he focused on the feel of her flushed breasts pressed beneath him, their mingled releases dribbling around him, her breath fanning across his sweaty face. Elain. He could never fucking get enough.

They remained tangled around one another and panting. Brown and hazel eyes screwed shut, but parted lips softly grazing the others’ as he sloppily rocked them through the final throes of their pleasure. 

Azriel’s arms gave way as he slumped heavily into Elain’s embrace, her tense muscles now softening and turning pliant once more. She glistened with sweat, the golden-brown hair at her temples curling against her glowing skin.

His mind had gone blank. Utterly quiet in the wake of his climax. All except for one thought that emerged from the heady fog: this. 

This. This. This.

This is how he wanted to spend all his days. With her. Irretrievably intertwined in each other. Warm, safe, peaceful. In their own little haven of quiet understanding and unbridled desire. The way she understood him, saw him, without the need of any unnecessary words. 

Yes, this was fucking it. He’d never be able to go back to life without her.

As the haze of passion cleared, he became conscious of his entire bulky frame completely smothering his tiny girlfriend beneath him. Fuck, he was probably crushing her lungs.

Pressing a chaste kiss to the hollow of her throat he attempted to pull their sweat-slicked bodies apart, but she only mumbled something that sounded like not yet and pulled him soundly back on top of her, wrapping her legs securely around his waist to hold him in place. 

Ok then, he wasn’t going to argue.

Instead, Azriel just smiled into her neck, gently brushing the hair away from her face as he murmured into her skin, “Love you, too.”

She only hugged him tighter.

*******

A special thanks to @tswaney17 for helping me pull this out of the trash💚

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@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

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[torybrennan]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[andwhitherthen]

I think part of the reason why I’m enjoying Psych so much is that it reminds me of those “Top Secret Adventures” that were put out by Highlights magazine.

They were like, this two year or almost two year subscription service in the 90s/early 2000s for kids, where you’d get a new “case file” every month, set in a different country. And the purpose was to teach you about geography and a bit about the culture and history of these countries, because to solve the puzzles in the workbook, you’d have to read the little informational book on the country (or at least flip through it for answers.)

And you’d have to pay attention to your “suspects” too, of course, which came like little paper trading cards with their (usually pun-ny) names and some information on them. Then you’d combine that with the hints in your workbook at the “crime scenes”

It was all very goofy and fun, and while the majority of it had to deal with thievery and not like, murder, I’m pretty sure, but similar vibes, since Psych itself is mostly a very lighthearted, goofy show?

(Also I really liked playing Clue as a kid, which probably fits into it somewhere.)

[bilbao-song]

secret rocker santa updates (11/26/23)

well. once again everyone who has signed up should have received a number by now :-) so let me know if you're signed up and don't have one! i still have 8637636 messages to answer and i'm hoping to get officially caught up today!!!!! sorry sorry sorry it has been like two consecutive super busy weeks

november 28th is the last official day to sign up!!! i will probably be leaving it open on the 29th as well but it reeeaaally depends on how busy i end up being that day, so if you're thinking of signing up but still haven't, time is almost up! we have a really good number of people this year and i think it's going to be great :-)

expect to be contacted by me either on the 29th or 30th with information about who you'll be santa for! (if i send this to you in the form of an ask, please do not publish it!)

whoever is going to be my santa will be contacted by @lord-of-the-weird :^)

i'm already kind of preliminarily coming up with matches and i've noticed a few more bands/artists for whom we could still use a few more participants, including: t. rex/marc bolan, styx, iron maiden (still lmao rip), guns n roses. i'll be tagging this accordingly but feel free to reblog if you have potentially interested followers :-)

likewise!! feel free to reblog either the short post or long post if you have music enjoyer followers who could potentially be interested in this sort of thing!!

andddd lastly here is the sign up link if anyone who sees this is interested (u can click either link in the last bullet point for more general info if needed) <3

[tyrantofthefirmament]

The Irregular Choice Transformers collection that was supposed to come out today still hasn't shown up on their website and I'm SUFFERINNNNGGGGG!

[cyncerity]

Secret Santa time!! @mcyt-gt-events

My secret santa was @pixiethesizeshifter!! I absolutely fell in love with your second prompt about a borrower’s first Christmas with their human, and you were kind enough to help me with my senior project so I was really excited when I got you as my secret santa and I wanted to make it really good

fun fact i’ve actually become like really attached to this story and I can almost guarantee there will be more content for it later

also it’s like 9k words and very unedited so there is a possibility that I may post this story again in 2 parts once I’ve edited it but for rn here!! I hope you enjoys Crimeboys hurt -> comfort

tw: vore, angst ig but it’s generally very fluffy <3

Tommy had never celebrated Christmas

That’s something that Wilbur has come to learn over the past few hours. Tommy had never had a Christmas. Something that had always been a right of passage for him. Something that had formed his childhood, even if he didn’t celebrate much anymore. His family had never seen the importance of having a giant celebration, or making Wilbur believe in the Santa fantasy, or making him go to church, but it was something he looked forward to every year nonetheless. A day for food, gifts, just a day to forget about all other troubles and focus on family and love.

Tommy had never experienced that.

It made sense, if he thought about it. He’d found the poor boy in a pet store, the same place most other borrowers that were captured went. He had bought adopted Tommy after a…particularly bad break up, just after valentine’s day that February. He was just…lonely. But Tommy wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, at the time. He was unresponsive to anything Wilbur did to bond with him for a solid month after he was bought, enough that Wilbur went back to the pet store to ask if it was ok to return the young tiny. As much as Wilbur feels guilty about that to this day, without having done that, he probably wouldn’t have grown closer to Tommy like he did.

Orphaned at a young age, Wilbur learned from the store’s cashier that Tommy had been abandoned by his colony along with many other young children and left as bait for approaching tiny hunters so the others could get away. He’d been taken away, locked in a cage, had a hole scarred through his ear for a tracker and tag and only had a third left of his tail after it had been chopped of like he was a designer dog. His family had abandoned him at 5 years old to a place that would treat him more as an animal than a person. The employee said they weren’t surprised at Wilbur’s wanting to return him, since the previous over five dozen people had done the same.

Apparently, no one had been able to properly bond with Tommy, and his month stay at Wilbur’s house had been a record for him. They said they were hoping Tommy would have finally found a home, since he had been in the store for most of his life, being traded back and forth between humans. But, if Wilbur brought Tommy back, he would hit his 10 year stay in the store, and it was policy that he’d then be put down, like any other unwanted pet. If he couldn’t get along with anyone who may want him, then he didn’t have a purpose, so why should they let him live?

Wilbur ran back home, after telling the cashier that he’d changed his mind, which turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made. He started to see Tommy for what he really was; he started treating him less like a disobedient pet and more like a scared, traumatized child.

Tommy miraculously started to open up after that. After Wilbur reassured him time and time and time again that he was safe, that he would be treated like a person, he’d never be abandoned, and that he was, above all else, loved, Tommy began to open up.

Over the past ten-ish months, Tommy had grown so, so much. Hw wasn’t perfect, Wilbur knew that he likely never would be, but that was just fine with him, as long as Tommy was happy. He and Wilbur talked, talked for hours on end about the most mundane or stupid things. Tommy also, as Wilbur soon learned, had quite a sense of humor as well. They’d laugh and joke together, and they played off each other perfectly. Tommy had a sailors mouth to rival Wil’s, and though the tiny was very on edge about using foul language and insults for a while because “pets weren’t supposed to use that kind of language” (Wilbur wanted to punch whoever told him that) even after he started to trust Wilbur, the two of them now traded lighthearted insults back and forth like it was nothing. Tom’s hair was longer and healthier, now that it had been washed and cared for properly. He has better clothes that Wilbur had ordered specially for someone his size, and his eyes were monumentally brighter now that he had felt some kind of familial love. Tommy even trusted him with an...odd bit of borrower information; apparently, they were digestion proof. How Tommy learned that he had no idea, and quite frankly he was too scared to ask. All he knew was that that information tended to come in handy whenever Tom had nightmares or was having an anxiety attack.

And most importantly, somehow, by some miracle, Tommy trusted that Wilbur wouldn’t abandon him. Wilbur had convinced the child that he was different than every other person who’d taken him in, and he was determined to be. He was determined to help make up for the childhood that Tommy had never had, to give him every experience he was robbed of because of that awful store.

So when Tommy had mentioned that every time he was bought he was returned before Christmas, and had spent the holiday in what was essentially a hamster cage, it shattered Wilbur’s heart.

Tommy had never had a day to forget about his troubles, his trauma.

Wilbur was going to fix that.

~~~

Wilbur “went to bed” earlier that night, only slightly confusing Tommy, but the borrower seemed to brush it off. He needed a game plan.

You see, Wilbur had pretty much ignored Christmas after he moved out of his dad’s house. Sure, he got his family gifts and stuff, but he’d spend most of the day holed up in his room with a pizza and whatever shitty christmas movie was playing on tv. That wasn’t gonna work. He needed something better than that. For Tommy.

He wrote out a list of everything he remembered from his childhood Christmases; opening gifts in the morning, baking cookies with his family, playing out in the snow, and drinking his Dad’s hot chocolate. He looked at his calendar; two weeks. Alright, he could do that.

First up was presents. What did Tommy like?

The first thing that came to mind was music. Tommy had been ecstatic when he learned Wilbur played guitar, and loved to listen to him any chance he got. Apparently, constant music was one of the best parts of living in a public store. It had become his escapism while he waited for the next person to come alone and buy him only to bring him back a week later. Despite this, he seemed to dislike a lot of Christmas music. Something about the same 10 songs on loop for two months being the most irritating thing in the world to him. God, and Wilbur thought retail workers had it bad, at least they didn’t have to live with the constant bombardment of shitty Michael Bublé covers. He’d keep that in mind for Christmas.

What could he do with that, though? It’s not like he could get Tommy an instrument, they were all too small. Right? Could he make one? He’d never been very crafty. He wrote it down as a possibility. What else, though?

A disc player? That could work. He could make a disc of all of Tommy’s favorite songs, and buy him a disc player. He thought Tommy would like that.

He wrote it down as he brainstormed some more. Tommy liked gardening, maybe a little indoor garden? He was also pretty active, maybe he could buy something to attach to his walls that Tom could have fun with when Wil wasn’t around to go outside with him (Tommy usually chose to stay inside unless Wilbur went out with him, though he couldn’t really blame him. Tom had always been an indoor borrower, so he didn’t know how to deal with big animals. Wilbur would be scared of finding a squirrel double his size, too). Maybe more things for Tommy’s room wouldn’t be a bad idea: a full, human size bedroom with an occupant barely a few inches tall was bound to feel a bit empty.

Wilbur continued to write ideas until one suddenly struck him; clothes. He should get Tommy more clothes. He had a pretty decent collection of t-shirts and pants, a couple of jackets thrown in there, but one thing that Wilbur realized he was missing was sweaters. Oversized, soft, ugly but comfortable sweaters, a staple of wintertime. Probably because he’d never seen them on sale before. It was hard enough to find anyone that was willing to commission clothes for a figure only a few inches tall, and harder to find someone that would make them comfortable and, y’know, wearable to a person. So what if Wilbur didn’t know how to sew or knit? He could make a few shirts. Probably. Hopefully?

A quick google search told him that was a definite no.

Ok, so maybe he can’t make shirts, but he had a plan. He just needed to call up a friend to help him.

~~

The next morning came quickly. Wilbur peeked into Tommy’s room to find the borrower still fast asleep, thankfully. Wilbur wasn’t planning on being gone too long, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave a note and some breakfast behind anyway letting Tommy know what was up.

With that all taken care of, he locked up his apartment and headed off to his old neighborhood, where his best friend still lived.

God, he missed her. It’s not like they lived all that far from each other, but they rarely saw each other much since they actually started to grow up. He hadn’t even seen her since her engagement party a few months prior, though her fiancé Puffy seemed like a perfect match with her. She still lived in the house she grew up in, Puffy choosing to move in with her, and it happened to just be a few doors down from Wilbur’s old house, which is precisely how they met.

He made it there after only about a half hour after taking a stop to pick her up some chocolates and a gift card as a quick thank you and early Christmas gift, and walked through the snow up to the familiar old and re-painted pink front door, knocking with a smile.

It didn’t take long for her to answer. She opened the door with a matching smile and was hugging Wilbur within seconds, her pink hair the nice strawberry scent that it had been since their childhood, bringing him a sense of deja vu. Wilbur hugged her back.

“Niki!”

~~

Tommy woke up with a yawn, stretching himself out as sunlight beamed through his windows and right into his eyes. Fuck, he should really start sleeping on a part of the bed where that couldn’t happen. Not like he didn’t have enough room, sleeping on a human sized bed. He got up and made the trek off the pillow he slept on in the center of the bed to the small table next to the headboard, only to notice a small cup of blueberries and chopped up strawberries and a note.

‘Hey Tommy! Went to go visit an old friend this morning, should be back before lunch! Love you! -your favorite big brother’

Tommy smiled as he set the note back down, taking a bite of a blueberry. What time was if anyway?

He checked the clock up on his wall; 2:34

Man, did he really sleep in that late? And wasn’t it…past lunchtime already?

He got out of bed quickly, not even bothering to get dressed before he slid off his bed and headed out into the hallway. “Wil? Wilbur?” He shouted, walking from room to room but still seeing no sign of his human. Ok, so maybe he was home alone. Wouldn’t be the first time. And of course Wilbur wasn’t obligated to spend every second of his time with Tommy. But…he said he’d be home. Wilbur wasn’t a liar. Maybe it was just taking him a while to get home. After all, maybe he was stuck in traffic, whatever that actually was. All Tommy knew was that traffic had caused him to get home late before. Plus, Tommy just woke up, he had shit to do today other than wonder where Wil was. Right. He was independent, he was fully capable of being his own person. He didn’t need Wilbur, not right now. He’d be home soon.

But what if he wasn’t?

No, he would be home soon, Tommy repeated to himself over and over, digging his palms into his eyes to stave off the tears he felt well up. He would be home soon. He trusted Wilbur.

~~

Ok, so maybe learning how to sew and knit was harder than Wilbur had thought. Niki had sat him down and taught him basic sewing patterns on a spare fabric sheet, and after stabbing himself for the twentieth time he gave up. Crocheting was surprisingly more fun for him, though. He had made a decently sized blanket for Tommy as a warm up, and he knew the tiny would love it, but he didn’t want to stop there.

As it turns out, having a best friend whose favorite hobby was crafting came in handy when you have a tiny little brother. Niki quickly started to sew some little t-shirts, leggings, and long sleeved tees with a nice, stretchy tech fabric that she had scraps from after seeing that Wilbur simply wasn’t going to pick up a needle again. Wilbur, however, kept crocheting. He managed to make a little beanie on his third attempt, and Puffy even showed up to help him learn how to make a little sweater. And make one he did. Scratch that, he made way more than one. He even made a few scarves, jackets, and even got Niki to sew a little sock for the end of Tommy’s tail since he knew the borrower was self conscious about the scars from where it was amputated.

By the time they were done, Tommy had clothes of all sorts, shapes, textures, and colors, though a lot was red and blue; his little brother’s favorite colors. A few shirts even had little logos and words from Tommy’s favorite shows after Puffy had remembered they owned a Criquet. Wilbur was absolutely beaming with joy once he gathered all the clothes into a box and started to head out.

“Thank you again for helping me, Niki. I really don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” Wilbur smiled as he placed the box into his car. “Don’t mention it.” Niki smiled back, giving him one last hug. “Let me know what that kid thinks of them, alright?” Wilbur smiled, though a little less genuinely than before. As much as he trusted Niki, Tommy wasnt human. And though Niki was one of the sweetest people Wilbur had ever met, he didn’t know what she thought of tinies. Of Tommy. He’d tell her eventually, but…not today. For today, she was helping him make tiny clothes because the little boy he’d started babysitting loved dolls. Proper enough lie for the time being. “I’ll be sure to tell you how happy he is when he gets these. Seriously, he’s going to love them. Merry Christmas!” He finished, stepping into his car and turning it on. He watched Niki wave to him as he pulled out, and only then did he notice the sky starting to darken. Fuck. What time was it?

His dashboard read 5:46

Fuck

~~

“Tommy! I’m home!!” Tommy heard yelled from the front entrance as the door slammed open. Immediately his ears perked up. He honest to god felt like he could cry.

Wilbur was here. He was back. He hadn’t left, he was here with Tommy again.

“WIL!!” Tommy screamed as he ran for the front door, seeing Wilbur’s expression brighten as he ran closer. Wil kneeled to the ground with his hands out and let Tommy throw himself into them, barely giving the tiny any time before scooping him up and pressing him to his cheek. “I missed you! I missed you so much, sunshine, I was thinking of you the whole time I was away.” Wilbur said, running a finger up and down Tommy’s back. He knew he fucked up; Tommy hated being left alone for too long. He needed that constant reassurance that he was wanted, and Wilbur couldn’t blame him for that after what he’d gone through. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long,” Wilbur continued, “I was just catching up with someone, and I didn’t realize how long it’d been till the sun started to set.”

“‘S alright. You’re back now, yeah?” Tommy said. Wilbur nodded. “Absolutely. You hungry?” “Fucking starving.” Tommy said, pulling away from Wilbur’s cheek. “You didn’t leave me lunch and I can’t open a fridge, you prick.” “God, you’re so needy.” Wilbur scoffed as he placed Tommy on his shoulder, making his way to the fridge and getting food out for the both of them before settling down on his couch to watch something.

It wasn’t long till he and Tommy had almost fallen asleep, and Wilbur moved to bring Tommy to his room, only for the sleepy borrower to cling to his finger. “Tom you have to go to sleep.” Wilbur said, yawning as Tommy shook his head. “No, fuck you, you left me alone all day you owe me cuddles.” He slurred, half asleep. Wilbur sighed, having seen this coming. “Do I know what you mean by ‘cuddles’ or are you being normal for once?” “Which do you think, bitch?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes and lifted Tommy higher to his face as he moved to sit on the tiny’s bed. To be fair to Tommy, though he as a normal human found this a bit weird, it seemed to help his little brother tremendously when he felt insecure. And he really would do anything for Tommy.

With that thought, he lifted the borrower up to his mouth, immediately feeling Tommy trying to weakly pry his lips open in his groggy state. He laughed softly as he opened his mouth and Tommy almost immediately fell forward, loosing his perch on the lips and tumbling straight onto Wilbur’s tongue. He felt the tiny relax as he slowly closed his mouth, making sure Tommy was fully inside. He felt and heard Tommy giggle as Wilbur licked him, quickly slicking him up and tasting him. Tommy’s weirdly good taste always surprised Wilbur less, even after they’d done this plenty of times. He didn’t know why he tasted good, or if it was only Tommy or every other tiny as well, but he wasn’t too concerned about it.

He felt a weak pat to the top of his mouth and took that as his cue to swallow, given that Tommy probably wanted to go to sleep. He could understand that, he was tired as well. He lifted his head up slightly, gently swallowing and tracing his little brothers descent with one hand. He laid back onto the bed as he felt Tommy enter his stomach, but he panicked a little when he didn’t feel him move around or get himself comfortable or anything. Wilbur propped himself up with one arm and pressed gently onto his midsection with his other, trying to feel if anything was wrong.

“Tommy?” he whispered. “You alright in there?” He sucked in his breath a bit and went quiet, now starting to register the calm, steady breaths from under his skin and the faint sound of snoring. Man, Tommy must have been really tired then. “Goodnight, Toms” Wilbur whispered quieter than before, lying back down. He released the pressure on his belly but still keeping a hand over it, rubbing it gently as sleep hit him as well

~~

Ok. It had taken a week, but all of Tommy’s clothes were wrapped and the smaller-than-average-and-therefore-useable-to-Tommy sized disc player that he ordered had come in, so everything was going well. Sure, he was staying up later to get everything done and make sure Tommy wasn’t catching on and was spending more time in his room hiding anything that could spoil the surprise from his little brother, but he was fine. Phil did it every year for him and Techno, he was fine. He was fine. He just had to get everything else done before Christmas. He could do this.

He just needed a bit more help.

~~

Tommy was fine. Really, he was fine. It’s just that Wilbur had been avoiding him for the last week and he had no fucking idea why. And it’s not even like he hadn’t been home, he just been locked in his room. Every time Tommy went to talk to him, he’d always look to guilty and scared, and he’d say something cryptic, hang out with Tommy for ten minutes, then run back to his room.

Had..had he done something wrong? Was Wilbur mad? Did he just want to be away from Tommy? Was he really that hard to like?

No, no… Wilbur wasn’t like that. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Wilbur cared about him, Wilbur loved him. Tommy couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make Wilbur mad at him, so it all had to be in his own head. Wilbur wanted him, and wanted to be around him.

Tommy heard footsteps.

He turned to the entryway and saw Wilbur zipping up a coat and pulling a beanie over his head, getting ready to leave. Without saying goodbye.

“…Wil?” Tommy asked, and immediately the human’s head snapped towards him, eyes widening in surprise. “Toms!” Wilbur smiled awkwardly. “I, uh..I didn’t know you were out here.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight back and forth impatiently. Tommy stared. “Where are you going?” “Just to see someone again. This time of year, man, everyone wants to get together!” He forced out a laugh, but Tommy didn’t budge. Wilbur sighed. “I’ll be back soon, ok? As soon as I can be.” He said, pulling the door open and taking a step out. “I love you.” Tommy didn’t answer as he left and the door closed behind him, the car starting up moments later.

Tommy couldn’t help it. Silent tears fell down his cheeks as he cried, his face frozen and expressionless as he tried to process what he was feeling. The first time Wilbur had left his room of his own volition in days and it was to leave Tommy alone. Again. Wilbur had never acted that way towards Tommy, either. Tommy had never seen him so desperate to leave a conversation.

Maybe he had gotten too used to being cared for constantly. Maybe it was bound to end up like this. Or maybe he was too spoiled. After all, this was still leagues better than he’d ever been treated. Wilbur wasn’t hurting him, or treating him like a lower life form. He was just…giving him less attention.

God, what was wrong with him? Wilbur wasn’t doing anything wrong, it was Tommy, just like it always had been. It was his skewed perception of family and his constant nagging need for attention that drove people away, Wilbur had every right to not like him. To ignore him. To send him back, if he really wanted.

How had Wilbur turned into his everything? He never formed any sort of attachment before. Hell, even in his colony, he was the orphan that no one wanted. Yet somehow Wilbur had made him desperately dependent on a family. On a human, nonetheless. And he loved it. And hated it. He loved Wilbur, his family, and he loved that after all this time he could finally love enough again to the point he could consider someone a brother to him, but he hated that Wilbur held his tiny, fragile, broken and haphazardly glued back together heart in his giant hands.

He hated that part.

~~

The drive to Phil’s had taken a little bit longer than expected, but he wasn’t gonna speed there with ice in the roads. He had been greeted in by his other little brother (technically his twin brother, but Wilbur was born first and he’d never let Techno forget it), who was staying over for the holidays so he could meet with his nerdy book club or something. His father was also beyond excited to see him, despite Wilbur having called to make sure they had time to see him a week before Christmas, it seemed like Phil was surprised he showed up all the same.

“It’s been too long, mate.” Phil said, wrapping his eldest son in a hug. “You never stop by anymore.” “I know, I know, I’m a horrible son.” Wilbur laughed as he leaned out of the hug. “I just really need your help with something.” “What’s up?” “Well, this is going to sound odd, but do you remember on Christmas when Tech and I were kids and we’d all make cookies and you’d make hot chocolate?” Phil laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Of course I do. It was one of your favorite parts of the holidays. What about it?” “Could you give me the recipes?” “How come?”

Wilbur sighed. Phil knew about Tommy, he just…didn’t know exactly what Tommy was to Wilbur. Phil still thought of tinies as pets, which was why they’d still never met, and Wilbur really didn’t have the time to explain how wrong that was. Besides, Phil never seemed to look down on Tommy. He could even temporarily forget what Phil thought of Tommy most of the time, until he said something a little out of pocket that would bring the illusion crashing back down. “It’s just…it’s that borrower I adopted a while ago.” Phil smiled and laughed. “Right, I remember you telling me about it him! How is the little guy?” “He’s well!” Wilbur said, ignoring how using ‘little guy’ to describe a teenager rubbed him the wrong way.

“It’s just, he’s never had a Christmas before. I’m his first real family, and I want him to give him as good a Christmas as I had as a kid.” “Aw, mate, that’s so sweet! Of course I’ll help you! But where’s the fun in just giving you the recipes, hm?” “Whats that supposed to mean?” Wil asked, but Phil was already walking past him, going to the staircase that led to Techno’s room. “Techno! Get down here, we’re making cookies!” “Dad, I really should get home as soon as possible.” Wil argued, looking up at a nearby clock. 12:08. He’d left Tommy alone with no better reason than an awkward excuse at around 11:25 in the morning. He should really try to be home soon. “Don’t worry, Wil, this won’t take long. We haven’t bonded like a family in forever, either. You want to learn how to make these, right?” Wilbur sighed.

He could tell how much this meant to Phil. After all, his father wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since it was just the three of them hanging out together. Techno came down the stairs and Wilbur could tell how happy his brother seemed when he saw Phil pulling out all the cookie ingredients, even if to the untrained eye Techno still looked pretty stoic. He sighed. “Fine, but I can’t stay for more than an hour. I really do need to get home.” Wilbur relented, taking off his coat and throwing it over a kitchen chair. “How do we do this?”

…

It was 8:30. Godammit, how did he even manage to do that?

He’d just gotten so distracted with his family. Sue him, he missed them. Techno was always busy doing..whatever Techno did, usually fencing tournaments, and Wilbur rarely had the time to visit either. He really had missed being around his family.

And he really had meant to just leave as soon as the cookies were done. He’d even written down every ingredient and instruction as they made the cookies so he could go as soon as they were done and he could verify that they were the same they’d been in his childhood. But then Phil saw the list and walked Wilbur through every step in more detail, making sure to add little details like exactly how long an ingredient should be refrigerated before being added to the mix, and specific brands that would make all the difference in the cookies. And he had to admit that it did work. Plus, he still wanted that hot chocolate recipe, so Phil ended up writing all the ins and outs of that as well, along with making 3 cups of it.

Then he almost left but then he remembered Techno had a cd burner in his room and he really wanted to make Tommy something for his cd player. He ended up making multiple cds, some of Tommy’s favorite videos game soundtracks (he debated making one that would just loop The Able Sisters, but decided against it since it would drive him absolutely fucking insane), some of his favorite normal songs, theater music (including a separate disk for the entire Hamilton soundtrack, he didn’t care if that was illegal), and, the one he thought would mean most, a cd of his songs. The songs that he had written, that were mostly just his own voice and a guitar. He wasn’t sure if Tommy knew, but Wilbur always took special note of the songs Tommy liked. He worked the hardest on those, always being sure to ask for Tommy’s input and suggestions, and those were the songs that had the most effort put into them.

Techno and Phil hadn’t heard these songs. It had been so long since Wilbur had played his music for his dad and brother, of course they’d wanted to see what he’d been working on. So, he’d shown them. And he forgot he had a back up guitar at his Dad’s house, so he played them some of the songs he’d been working on. He did tell them that some of the songs were for Tommy, and Techno actually surprised him a bit when after Phil had got up to do something, he held Wilbur up and excused himself to grab something from his room, returning with a small cow keychain.

“What’s that?” Wilbur asked, taking the toy as Technoblade gently tossed it into his hands. “Just a cow. I don’t have much use for it, it came free with one of my online sword orders, so I thought maybe your borrower would like it. He is a kid, right?” Wilbur looked wide eyed and nodded, mindlessly fiddling with the stuffed cow in his hands. Technoblade smiled. “You mentioned it was his first Christmas, figured it would be nice to give him something. Plus, borrowers need ‘stimulus’ or something and I know they’re supposed to have, like, pet toys, but I think every little kid needs a plain old fashioned stuffed animal. I mean, he’s important to you, so he’s important to me, you know?”

Wilbur was actually speechless. Techno was never that outwardly thoughtful, he always had an issue expressing how he cared about people. Even though Wilbur was pretty sure Techno still saw borrowers as pets, he’d gone out of his way for Tommy. This…must have been really important to him. Tommy, who he’d never even met but had heard Wilbur gush about on the phone for hours, was important to him. He took a moment to wipe unshed tears from his eyes as he hugged his brother. “That means more to me than you know. And he’ll love this, genuinely. Funny enough, he has a weird love of cows.” Wilbur felt Techno laugh into his shoulder. “Send me a picture or something of him with it. And Phil and I want to meet the kid someday, remember?” “You will, I promise. Someday.” Wilbur smiled.

And before he knew it it was night, and Tommy had been left alone. Again.

He was a horrible brother, wasn’t he?

~~

He snuck into the house at around 9:10 at night, after the long drive home. He wasn’t sure if Tommy was asleep or not, but he wanted to be quiet all the same just in case. He didn’t see him anywhere at first, but he did notice the light in his room was off.

Wilbur creaked the door more open slightly, and saw a small figure under a blanket in the center of the bed. Ah, so Tommy had gone to bed early. He closed the door back to its neutral position of only slightly open (since Tommy couldn’t reach the doorknob). He had some cd cases to add designs to and wrap.

Had he taken a closer look, he may have noticed the minute shaking from under the blanket, or heard the sniffling of the tiny’s cries.

~~

Christmas Eve.

At least, that’s what all the calendars said. It meant fuck all to Tommy. All he’d ever associated Christmas with was obnoxious songs on the store radio (seriously, fuck those, if he ever had to hear any version of “Last Christmas” again, he’d scream), shiny decorations on the shelves, and parents coming in to buy their children mice or fish as a cheap replacement of the puppy their toddler had said they wanted. He’d been picked up a few times by those parents, thinking he’d be a good fit for their child, but he learned pretty quickly how to avoid being bought by those kinds of people. Parents didn’t want a pet that would curse at and bite their children. The only thing he actually enjoyed was that on Christmas day, the store was closed. No lights, no music, no crusty little kids or asshole employees. Just silence and peace for one day. Still alone, but alone with less of a reminder of where he was, what he was seen as, and how unwanted he’d been for so long.

But he didn’t have to worry about that this year. He’d found his forever home. At least, he hoped he did. He’d never had a reason to doubt that before.

But it had been two weeks. Two. Weeks. And Wilbur wasn’t around as much anymore.

For two weeks he’d been stalking around the house avoiding Tommy, leaving for hours on end and giving some bullshit excuse he made on the spot. Tommy wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t know why. What had he done to push Wilbur away?

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Wilbur had always pushed Tommy to think for himself, to stand up for himself. He’d told Tommy his treatment at the store had been wrong. He’d told Tommy before that he had a habit of just letting himself be treated poorly. Back in the early days of his and Wil’s relationship, he’d let Wil just push him around. He’d go days without eating if Wil forgot to leave food for him, and he’d let himself be flung around like a ragdoll, content with the bruises. He never cared what happened to him. He’d never been wanted, he always assumed he was just not good enough. He wasn’t worth anything, why should he care about himself when no one else did?

Wilbur changed that. He changed all of it. He loved him. He made Tommy feel like he was worth something, godammit. What was the point of that if Wilbur was just going to throw him away? What kind of cruel, suck joke would it have been if Wilbur cared about him so much for all this time only to forget and abandon him now.

Fuck this. Fuck Wilbur. Fuck him for making Tommy feel like he was worth something, and fuck that he’d taught Tommy how to care about himself.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d stand up for himself. Tomorrow he’d ask Wilbur…well, he wasn’t sure yet. But he had till tomorrow to think of something to say. Something to verbally sort out how hurt and sad and confused he’d felt.

Tomorrow.

~~

Tomorrow.

God, Wilbur was so excited he could hardly wait.

Tommy had spent most of the day in his room already, but Wilbur had gone in for a minute to drop off his breakfast and lunch just to ensure that Tommy didn’t have to leave. He needed the rest of the apartment empty.

Time to decorate.

He had a few bins of Christmas decorations that he’d bought from the dollar tree over the years, not much, but enough. He had a pretty basic tree, but it was more than enough to put Tommy’s gifts under.

He was proud of himself. Sure, he felt awful about not being home, and he hadn’t slept this little since his high school finals, but he was proud of himself. Tommy would love this.

Along with the clothes, the cow (that Wilbur had removed the bulky clip from), cd player, and cds, Wil had bought a bunch of supplies to make a decently sized parkour park for Tommy’s room and had made a big custom terrarium. Granted, neither of these were finished; the wood for the park was too rough to grab without splinters and the terrarium was mostly just a bunch of connected boxes filled with dirt (and a small buried fish bowl that functioned as as in ground pool to Tommy, Wilbur was pretty proud of that one), but he wanted Tommy to have some part in these things. They’d still be surprises, but after Christmas he’d get to pick how the park was set up and what colors it was, and he’s get to pick out what plants went in the terrarium, though Wilbur had already bought a couple of bigger Bonsai’s and made a small swing to hang from one of them. He knew Tommy would love these. He knew Tommy would love all of it.

He was going to give his little brother the best Christmas ever.

~~

Tommy hadn’t slept much. He was too worried about what to say. What could he say? Should he just wait a bit longer to say anything? Maybe Wilbur was just having a rough time with…something. Tommy wasn’t his only priority, after all.

No, fuck that. It’d been two weeks. If Wilbur really was having a hard time, he’d have said something. He’d have assured Tommy it wasn’t his fault, like he always did. Wilbur always reassured Tommy. Tommy’s well-being was always at the forefront of his mind, and he truly believed that; that’s one of the reasons he grew to trust the man so much. And if Wilbur was having a hard time? Tommy would find out. He just had to talk to him. He just had to suck it up and talk to-

His thoughts were cut off by the door opening more, his head snapping to the entrance as he heard an excited gasp. The lights were flicked on, and there in the doorway was Wilbur; Christmas pjs on, hair a mess, and bags under his eyes. By all means he looked tired, he looked fucking exhausted, but somehow only physically. Tommy took a minute to look at his expression and realized he hadn’t seen his human this happy in weeks, or, hell, ever. Wilbur looked ecstatic.

“Tommy!!” Wilbur yelled rushing forward and scooping the tiny into his hands, holding him against his cheek for a moment before pulling back and holding him at eye level. “Are you excited?” Tommy was speechless. Utterly fucking speechless. This was…now how he expected today to start. “…for what..?” Tommy asked, and that seemed to be just the question Wilbur was looking for. “For Christmas! It’s Christmas, Tommy!” “…yay?” Tommy said, still unsure of what to make of Wilbur’s sudden shift in attitude. But Wilbur just laughed and moved his hand a bit lower, beginning to walk out of the room. “C’mon, there’s something we have to take care of.”

Tommy could’ve sworn his heart stopped in that moment. ‘Please don’t be taking me away,’ he pleaded in his own head, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his whole body. He felt himself start to shake as he tried not to cry out loud. ‘Please don’t be preparing to pack me away and send me back to that fucking store. I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it again, not after all this. Not after you. Us. Please, please, don’t abandon me. Please, please, plea-‘ “Tommy?” Wilbur asked, stroking a thumb down Tommy’s back, the familiar gesture helping immensely. Tommy cracked an eye open, turning back to look up at Wilbur. He only focused on Wilbur’s confusion and pity for a moment before something else caught his eye. Lights. Strings of lights lining the ceiling borders around the room. He followed the strands paths and realized they spread out into the next room, the living room, so he turned to see where they led.

He gasped.

A tree stood in the back corner of the room, giant and shiny and glowing. It was gorgeous. The room itself was decked out as well, green, red, silver, and gold tinsel hung off every surface, and christmas patterned blankets lined the couches. A fake fireplace video played on the tv as peaceful jazz renditions of Christmas tunes played quietly in the background. Most shockingly, under the tree, there were stacks of gifts of all varying sizes and wrapping papers, and some were even taller than he was!

“Do you like it?” Tommy turned back, seeing the hope in Wilbur’s eyes. He couldn’t help it. He just burst out crying, burying himself in Wilbur’s chest as soon as his big brother pulled him in closer.

“Woah, woah, Tommy, what is it, are you ok??” “I- I th- I thought-“ Tommy could barely bring himself to speak, his breath hiccuping with every sob. “Shush, shh, sh, it’s ok, Toms, you’re ok. Everything is fine. I’m here for you, ok?” Tommy felt large, gentle fingers down his back, and he fell back into a normal breathing rhythm. This was Wilbur. This was the Wilbur he’d missed. His brother was still here.

“…you did all this for me?” Tommy whispered, not lifting his head from Wilbur’s chest. “Of course! I had to give my little brother the best Christmas ever, of course.” He could hear the pride and excitement in Wilbur’s voice. “Took a bit of work, but I think you’ll love it. You wanna open some presents?” “They’re all for me?!” “Of course!” Wilbur beamed, bringing Tommy closer to the tree and setting him right in front of his presents. Tommy sniffled and wiped his eyes, nodding. “I didn’t get anything for you, though.” “And that’s alright,” Wilbur said, sitting down behind Tommy and leaning down to be closer to his level. “I didn’t expect you to. This is your first proper Christmas. Today is about you.” Wilbur finished, reaching behind the tiny to pick up a smaller present and hand it off to him.

Tommy took it carefully, as if he’d simply break it by holding it. The package was about the size of his torso, and was very light and squishy. The weirdest part of it was the tag, though. From…

“Technoblade..?” Tommy asked aloud, and Wilbur’s smile grew. “My twin. I saw him a few days ago and he wanted you to have this.” Tommy stared up at Wilbur, confused. “Did you tell him to get me something?” “Nope.” Wilbur said, popping the p at the end as Tommy took in what he was saying. Wilbur’s other brother thought of him? He knew the technical rest of his family didn’t really view him as a person, but…Techno had thought of him. And wanted to give him a gift. People didn’t do that for pets, did they?

Tommy began to carefully unwrap the paper around it before Wil told him he could just rip it up. That seemed a lot more fun, so he did, and he found a soft, squishy stuffed cow with little button eyes looking back up at him. Wilbur’s brother…knew his favorite animal? Tommy looked at it for a bit longer. It was a stuffed animal, just like other normal kids had. His size. It was practically made for him. Tommy just sat, taking the time to process it when he noticed a camera on him. He looked up with confusion and Wilbur laughed lightly.

“Techno wanted to know what you thought of it. You like it?” Tommy looked back at it before grinning widely. “Like it? I love it” He yelled, squeezing the cow to his chest. “Look at it, look at it, Wil! It’s amazing! She’s gorgeous. Her name is Henry. I will love her for the rest of time, I have never seen anything so fantastic in my life-“ He heard Wilbur laugh as he continued to rant. He heard a quick whisper of “I think he likes it” from Wilbur before the camera was set down. “Well, what do you say you open some more?”

~~

Wilbur hadn’t been disappointed by Tommy’s reactions to his gifts.

They started with clothes, which Tommy was somewhat skeptical about (probably cause he’d been through his fair share of clothes that Wilbur ordered that didn’t fit), but after learning that Wilbur had recruited his friends to make them specially for him and he’d even learned how to crochet to make some of the clothes himself, he was far more excited to open them. Tommy literally cried when he opened the first sweater Wilbur had made him. Wilbur forgot that Tommy had never owned a warm knitted sweater, apparently Tommy hadn’t even known that clothes could be made that soft. Needless to say he put it on immediately, as Wilbur couldn’t help the pride he felt. He was actually a bit shocked at some of Tommy’s reactions to things, given that he’d been severely confused by the idea of tech fabric and he didn’t know what to do with the scarves at first either. He was very excited to pull out a shirt with the Hamilton logo printed on it, though.

Next up had been the parkour wood, which Tommy hadn’t really understood until Wilbur drew out what he thought it should look like in the tiny’s room. Then Tommy spent the next 30 minutes drawing what he thought it should look like, and it became a collective effort to make it as cool as possible. Tommy also decided that it definitely needed to be painted red and definitely also needed flame decals. Wilbur could agree with that.

The next thing was the garden, and Tommy almost immediately wanted to get in the “pool” section of it, now that he knew he owned swim shorts (Wilbur really needed to get Niki something to thank her for this, she was a saint), but Wilbur convinced him to at least wait until presents where done. He told Tommy that as long as he was really careful, he’d take him to the store to buy whatever plants he wanted for the garden, and he knew that to Tommy, that was a present in itself. Tommy didn’t get to go to public places very often, but he loved it. Tommy literally gasped as he saw the bonsai swing, and started to talk about what he wanted the garden to look like; what plants, maybe small tiling, maybe even little benches. Wilbur just lightly pushed Tommy back and forth and listened.

The last gift he gave Tommy was the cd player and the disks. Those were the most personal to him, and he thought that Tommy would find them the most meaningful. He was soon proved right.

Tommy opened the Hamilton one first, and was ecstatic, his joy only rivaled by the next two, the more personal ones of all his favorite songs and soundtrack music that Wilbur had known. And as if Tommy hadn’t done enough crying today, he cried when he opened the cd of Wilbur’s own music. The songs that Tommy had loved, so Wilbur had made them even better for him. Tommy immediately popped that one into the cd player.

~~

Wilbur’s music continued to play out over the speaker as he and Tommy made cookies on the stove. As much as Wilbur wanted the cookies to be as good as Phil’s, Tommy was impatient as fuck and also a major kitchen menace. He had sit still long enough for Wilbur to properly make a decent bit of hot chocolate, but after that started to cool and he started making cookies, Tommy apparently just…couldn’t sit still any longer. He was a little bit helpful, but he couldn’t really help with most of the ingredients, so he ended up just getting covered in them and had also started using Wilbur as a jungle gym, making him mess up as well.

Wilbur put up with it until Tommy managed to hurl himself into the bowl of cookie dough. The human didn’t feel like taking Tommy all the way over to the sink, so he did what any rational person would do and just stuffed Tommy in his mouth, ignoring the profanities and screeches from the tiny. And if he “forgot” to let Tommy out until the cookies were in the over and the ingredients were put away, it was totally on accident.

By the end of the day, they were both sat on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate being shared between the two of them, watching some awful Christmas movie. Wilbur had tried to put on one of the ones he watched as a kid, but Tommy quickly proved too terrified of stop motion to keep them playing for long. So, they ended up just watching whatever came up on their tv, not that either of them were really paying attention, to caught up with everything that had happened all day. Tommy curled up into the side of Wilbur’s neck, pressed between a turtleneck sweater and warm skin, with Wilbur lifting the hot chocolate up to him to take sips from (coffee stirring straws were a blessing for that), fully content to just lay there forever. Even when Wilbur went to retrieve the cookies from the oven and started to break pieces off for Tommy after they cooled, he stayed right where he was.

“Y’know, Wil…” Tommy said after they had made their way back to the couch, bringing the plate of warm cookies with them. “You had me scared for a bit.” Wilbur hummed in confusion, unable to talk past the cookie in his mouth. Tommy sighed. “You just…I dont even know, really, you just kept…disappearing.” The tiny laughed shallowly. “I know it’s dumb, I know you better than to think you’d ever…yeah. I just…you went out of your way to ignore me. And, I get that now, I know why, I just…never mind, it’s stupid, I know what you were doing I just-“ “It’s not stupid.” Wilbur interrupted, lifting a hand to lay over Tommy. “Don’t ever try and invalidate your feelings like that. I…I know I fucked up. I just got…I got so worked up over making everything perfect for you. I was so focused on how you’d feel today that I ignored how you felt for the last two weeks, I don’t have an excuse for that. I’m so, so sorry, sunshine.”

God, Tommy really wasn’t gonna cry again. He didn’t want to cry this much on his first Christmas. He just felt…so much relief. He could feel an almost physical weight lift off his chest as Wilbur spoke. He had said exactly what Tommy wanted to hear, and he could tell that his big brother had meant every word. “Thank you. For..for apologizing. It’s ok, really, it is, you just know how I get sometimes.” Tommy looked down, and he felt Wilbur tilt his head towards him, squishing him farther into the neck and giving him a sideways hug of sorts. “And..and I know that you didn’t take me in just to have to spend every second with me, you have a life, too, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“And you’re part of my life. I love you, Toms, and I love to be around you. And I will never be offended by your fear that I may leave. That’s a recent trauma for you, no one said you had to get over that quickly. I’ll be here every day to make sure that having a proper, loving home becomes your new normal. I’ve become emotionally dependent on you, gremlin, you will never be able to get rid of me now.” Wilbur said, finishing by pressing his cheek against the boy, who only giggled and leaned farther into it it. “Thanks, Wilby.”

The two of them sat like that the rest of their movie, content to just be in each others company until Wilbur reached down to grab the hot (well, maybe now just warm) chocolate. Wilbur was a bit confused when Tommy took off the big sweater he was wearing, just leaving his tank top underneath, but that quickly turned to confusion when Tommy fell forwards into the mug. Wilbur panicked and quickly brought the cup up higher, seeing Tommy surface from the sweet liquid and start laughing. “Fuck, Tommy, are you ok, what the fuck was that?!” But Tommy only laughed harder. “You ignored me for two weeks, let me have this. Besides, don’t you wanna finish your hot chocolate?”

Wilbur scoffed and brought the cup up higher. “You’re lucky I love you.” Was the only warning Tommy got before Wilbur tipped the mug up and Tommy tumbled out of it with a yell, hot chocolate following behind him as Wilbur swallowed quickly. He felt Tommy squirm down his throat, hitting against the muscles around him but not trying to cause any real damage. Wilbur felt warmth bloom in his core as Tommy finally dropped into the stomach, along with the rest of the warm liquid. Wilbur pressed a hand onto his belly and felt Tommy press back. “You’re not gonna drown in there, are you?” “Nah,” Tommy said as Wilbur felt him flop back into the hot chocolate, making his stomach rumble. “It comes up just above my waist, I’m good. Now don’t move around to much, your stomach making noise shook me enough.” “Oh? You mean like…this!” Wilbur said, standing up only to flip back onto the couch face down, hearing Tommy scream and start laughing, and Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Yes like that you bitch!! Get up you’re squishing me!!” Tommy yelled playfully, smacking the muscles around him. Wilbur rolled back over onto his back, breathless from laughing. He felt Tommy start to rub at the muscles around him and went limp, the internal massage making his muscles melt. “Merry Christmas, Wilbur.”

Wilbur could have cried in that moment. He didn’t deserve this kid. This little boy who’d made him happier than he’d been in years, who put faith in him after so many failed attempts at family, who even trusted him to hold his life within him. Maybe later there would be more mishaps, more misunderstandings. Maybe Wilbur would mess up again, and Tommy would start to lose that faith. But Wilbur would do anything for Tommy, and he’d have all the patience in the world for him to heal and grow, and he’d grow with him. They could grow together. But that was all for the future. For now, they’d be busy planting a garden, building a parkour course, playing music, and whatever else they could think to do. Together.

Wilbur smiled and rubbed back at where he felt his little brother.

“Merry Christmas, Tommy.”

[chaotictarlos]

WIP WEDNESDAY

thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses

When Carlos shows up at the place he’s supposed to meet the guy that Marjan has set him up with, he’s early - almost too early for it to be considered normal but he’s nervous. It’s been some time since he’s gone out on an actual date and not just found someone at a club or bar to hook up with for the night.

He takes a look around the restaurant, trying to decide if he wants to find a table to sit down at or get a quick drink at the bar but his eyes land on TK and Carlos feels his stomach turn slightly. 

TK’s out on a date and for a moment that’s all Carlos can focus on.  He looks hard at the man he’s with and realizes it’s not Michael. Carlos also knows Michael - there was a time when Paul tried to set him up with Michael but he wasn’t really Carlos’ type.

No, this is another guy. A new guy.

Carlos feels his stomach twist into knots and the unfamiliar and ugly feeling of jealousy fills his veins too. He hates the feeling but the longer he stares at TK and his date, the more it grows. He turns on his heel and heads straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe and get his head on straight before his own date arrives.

Carlos steps up to a sink and grips the edges, looking down and letting out a deep breath. He’s being ridiculous, is what he’s being. He doesn’t need to continue to pin after TK and what could have been, if TK wanted any part of that he’s had plenty of time to say something and instead he’s gone on a few dates with other men - which is fine, TK owes Carlos nothing and Carlos knows that.

He looks up at his reflection and reminds himself that he has also had plenty of chances to tell TK that he still has some feelings for him and has thought about what it would be like to try again, but he hasn’t said anything either. He rubs a hand over his face and tries not to mess up his hair.

He squares his shoulders and looks at himself intently.

“You are going to forget about your feelings for TK and have a good time tonight,” Carlos tells himself. The words sound weak but Carlos doesn’t focus on that. He’s going to have a good time. He wants to have a good time tonight.

Carlos splashes some water on his face and pats his face dry before smoothing down the dark blue button-down that he’s wearing. He retucks it into his black dress pants and makes sure there isn’t a single hair out of place before he walks out of the bathroom. 

He ignores TK and his date, not wanting to get up into his head, and decides to just find the hostess and tell her that he has a reservation. She’s quick to show him to his table and hand him a drink menu. Carlos studies it for a long time and when the waiter comes back to inquire if he wants anything, he orders a glass of wine and lets the waiter know that he’s waiting on another person.

It’s only ten minutes later that the hostess is leading a man to Carlos’ table. Carlos takes the time that he’s walking over to check him out. The man is a few inches shorter than Carlos, tanned from the Austin sun - it makes Carlos wonder if he spends a lot of his time outside - he has strong shoulders, a nice definition of muscles from what Carlos can see, and a charming smile that has Carlos smiling in return. His hair is messy, as if he’s been running his fingers through it nervously but Carlos like it, he feels like it matches his date more than a neat hairstyle would.

Carlos stands up and offers his hand when his date stops in front of their table.

“Good evening, I’m Carlos,” Carlos says politely. The man takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.

“I’m Andy,” Andy says, voice so smooth it has Carlos’ stomach fluttering with butterflies. Carlos gestures for him to take a seat before sitting down himself.

“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered a glass of wine while I was waiting. I’m sure our waiter will be by soon and we can get you a drink as well.”

Andy chuckles, “It’s no problem. Marjan told me what you do for work and I’m sure you could probably use a glass of wine.”

Carlos smiles, chuckling a bit because Andy isn’t wrong.

“Today wasn’t as stressful as the days usually are, but you’re not wrong,” Carlos says. “I’m in the middle of needing to make a decision about work and it’s not an easy one.”

“What decision, if you don’t mind me asking?” Andy asks, leaning forward and Carlos likes that. It shows that he’s interested in the conversation.

no pressure tags: @brouill3r @thebumblecee @mooshkat @cowlos-reyes @meditating-honey-badger @lightningboltreader @detective-giggles @noxsoulmate @angeltk @sanjuwrites

[lilas]

.

[fischiee]

y’all I am drunk as fuck but i am fed the fuck up. i am like hopelessly into this guy in our friend group bc he is so kind and wonderful and attractive and unfortunately he has decided that i am the one person to trust abt his love life and so i must apparently sit through him explaining his struggles with another girl while i am SUFFERING

like he is just so sweet and kind and YES it is a crush and yes i am putting him on a pedestal but he is nothing but kind and sweet to me and it definitely seems like he is flirting with me sometimes but i definitely cannot tell and he does talk abt this girl that he is very into OFTEN (she is for sure not me) and it’s driving me crazy i am so heart broken

[chexmixbaby44]

someone please tell g*ylors that they can relate to songs about men without insisting that they were written about women

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my coworkers at the jewelry store was this lady who vehemently loathed smoking. So much so, that when she and her husband first met he lied and said he wasn’t a smoker because he knew he was batting out of his weight class and didn’t want to fumble her.

But instead of actually quitting smoking when they started dating he embarked on a dedicated campaign to hide his habit. He’d wash his hands and brush his teeth religiously, wearing different clothes when he smoked at work and passing off any smells as a result of being around his coworkers. They got married. They had a kid. He smoked in secret the entire time.

He did this. For s i x t e e n y e a r s. He lied and dissembled with his wife, the mother of his child, the love of his life for sixteen years.

He never came clean. In fact, it was his son who caught him and instantly ran to tell his mother the misdeed. When she furiously confronted him he finally admitted to the lie and she almost divorced him on the spot.

When she told me this she had a vaguely embarassed air as if that were an overreaction and I exclaimed, “Why didn’t you?! If someone was so committed to lying and deceiving you that puts your whole relationship into a different context!”

She frowned slightly and admitted, “We went to therapy about it and the therapist agreed with my husband. He said I was blowing things out of proportion.”

I was outraged that a therapist who is only there to mediate would so blatantly take a side and I told her so. She seemed somewhat heartened but went on to say she’s never fully trusted him since. If he could perpetrate such a long term subterfuge over smoking why not an affair? She could never be sure of him, truly, ever again.

They didn’t get divorced but the rift stayed forever.

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

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.

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!” 

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? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[vi-enti]

rose quartz & hot pink? (for pink asks~)

rose quartz — what’s your love language (romantic or platonic)?

this applies both romantically and platonically, but i think words of affirmation. i like talking to people and reminding them that i’m there in any way i can, and i like expressing awe and affection and delight and love as much as i can. (if this is like, which one do i want to be on the receiving side of, quality time probably?) but on an unrelated note i don’t think all sorts of love fit into those five love languages anyways. the thing i would like to express the most towards my loved ones is reliability. i want to be reliable and stable and a source of warmth for them

hot pink — what’s your favorite relationship trope?

best friends to lovers!! i’m a firm believer that romance is born from firm foundations of friendship (alternatively, rivals (not enemies) to lovers bc eheheh)

[sk1ttl3z]

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck uou fucck you fuck you ffuck yoiu i should habe stufcck with ttazzziee i was hhappy witrht him fyck you you fuckcign liar

we we nt on dates we held hands we MADE OUT we vbought and maade matching jewelry YOU CALLED ME YOUR BOYFRIEIDN

BUT THE MINUTE YOURE CAUGHT WITH SOKEONEE ELSE IM NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND BECAUSE "I DONT SHOW YOU OFF" WHAT IS WRTONG WITH IYOU

[chaotictarlos]

Social Worker!Carlos x Professor!TK Secret Dating AU

He jerks his eyes away from TK, set on ignoring the fact that he was in Carlos’ club, and finds the shirtless guy he was staring at. Licking his lips, he finishes his drink and sets it down on the table before slipping out of the seat that he had been sitting in and making his way across the dance floor to the shirtless guy.

They exchange a look and the guy grins before reaching out and grabbing Carlos’ hips to pull him in. Their bodies start to move together, moving their hips to the beat of the music that surrounds them. Carlos lets himself get lost in the touch of the stranger and the smell of his cologne, shoving TK’s face to the far side of his mind because that’s not what Carlos wants tonight. Tonight he wants messy sex that will leave him aching in the morning and a stranger's face that he’ll forget in a few days.

He wants a release with no strings or feelings or trips down memory lane.

No pressure tags: @theghostofashton @good-ways @thebumblecee @mooshkat @cowlos-reyes