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flightlessangelwings · 6 months

Text

My Knight in White

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 4.3k

Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n

About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.

He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you.

Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.

“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”

“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.

“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”

It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.

Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.

“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”

He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”

Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”

He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.

Too late.

You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.

“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”

The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”

The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.

“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.

“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.

Suddenly, your luck changed.

Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.

You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.

The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.

You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.

Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”

As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.

You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.

It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.

“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”

He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared.

You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.

The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.

In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.

Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did.

Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you…

“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed.

He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.

Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”

“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”

The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”

Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.

You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”

“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”

Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…

“Marc…”

“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.

Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him.

But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off.

Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.

“Marc?” your voice shook.

“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”

“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.

“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.

“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”

He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”

Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”

There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so.

As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do.

But that plan also quickly backfired.

You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.

“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.

Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you.

The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.

More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.

You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.

“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.

The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?”

“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.

“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded.

When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.

You ran.

Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.

And then you heard it.

Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”

You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms.

The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear.

“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.

“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.

“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.

The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.

“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.

“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”

Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.

This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.

Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”

Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”

Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.

You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.

“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.

“Please Marc,” you pleaded.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.

“Marc…”

He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”

“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Marc… I’m…”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.

Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.

He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.

Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

“Marc, I…”

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”

You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.

Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.”

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jeongheart · 8 months

Text

super shy

summary: he's been receiving these letters for the past year but, he doesn't know your name, does he?

w.c: 7.1k.

tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life.

a.n: this is the longest fic i ever written omg, i've been playing new jeans latest comeback for a few days and this is the result lol. as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you liked it, means a lot!

It was there again.

Sitting immaculately on top of his messy folders, the envelope was white without any type of decoration, the owner of the cursive handwriting wouldn't even risk placing a sticker since it could give a clue, even minimal, about who was behind it.

The classroom was almost empty, since recess ended a few minutes ago and the students were still lazily getting up from the grass where they were lying, not wanting to lock themselves in a room again for hours while the day was shining beautifully outside the building.

However, Chan looked around him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned his classmates for the smallest trace of uneasiness as he took the envelope in his hands. But he didn't find any, unless the author had a master's degree in poker face no one around him seemed interested in what he was doing.

After the failed scrutiny, he sat down again with no care on the wooden bench, eager to read what that person had to say today. This excited feeling was new for him, the letters had been arriving about a year ago, right at the beginning of the new semester and at first, Chan found it funny. Surely one of his friends (he bet his life on either Seungmin or Minho, those two were always up to something no matter how much they said they weren't) found it fun to piss him off this year, after all, it has been a long time since his last relationship and sometimes he felt the need of affection, so the "joke" made perfect sense in his head.

He didn't read them the first few months, he just crumpled them up and kept them in a hidden place in his backpack, to let whoever was behind them know that he wasn't interested. But they kept coming even after that vile act against someone's real feelings; and that was when Chan began to question if there really was a person genuinely interested in him, interested enough to send him handwritten letters as if they were living in a classic romance novel. The person had a beautiful vocabulary, and it was clear that they paid attention to details that he didn't even noticed about himself.

The notes weren't very long since they didn't exceed ten lines, but each word was full of admiration and affection. They always reminded him to eat and take care of his health, in addition to telling him day by day one of the qualities why his mysterious person had fallen in love with him. Chan blushed every time he read those reasons, it was no secret (to himself, since he didn't like others to know) that he didn't think very highly of himself; from his point of view there was nothing nice or admirable about his existence. But this person believed just the opposite, and they had made their life's mission to let him know that every day.

Today was no exception, the lined sheets were a pastel color (pink? orange?) and had small animal decorations at the bottom and top (he noticed that these came in "groups", the representative animal of these last ten notes was a smiling giraffe). It was incredibly adorable, and Chan found himself laughing softly every time he took out the contents of the envelope.

'Mondays are always hard! Especially this time of year (can't the professors trust in me and my knowledge of things? I don't see the need for them to take a test).

Anyway, Channie, this weekend I found myself thinking a lot about you, every time I start writing my reasons I feel like I'm going to be left speechless but then I remember that it's not difficult at all to love you. So here is another one:

Your resilience, I greatly admire your ability to always get up no matter how many blows life throws at you. The vast majority of us feel discouraged by the slightest inconvenience, but not you. And that is something incredible.

I hope you have a beautiful start to the week, remember to eat your meals and feel the sun.

Fondly,'

And that's how all the letters ended, the author seemed to hesitate every time they traced the last line, he could feel the uncertainty even on the paper. Chan knew that they were shy and always wondered when they were going to stop being to finally sign with their name and be able to meet that person who stole his heart with every word.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

He was reading the note, hunched over his things, almost shielding the contents of the paper from the prying eyes of anyone who passed by him. You knew he was going to do it (he always did) but you couldn't stop your heart from racing like it was the first time it happened. You watched him from the hallway, hiding behind one of your textbooks while a silly smile appeared on your face, nothing made you happier than making him happy with your words, it's true what people say about "butterflies in the stomach" because that was what you were feeling right now.

His eyes crinkled in the most adorable way possible every time he smiled and from your spot in the hallway you could almost hear the sigh he let out after finishing reading the letter. After scanning his surroundings one last time, Chan placed the paper back into the envelope, and carefully placed it inside his notebook.

"You and your Shakespeare complex again" The sudden voice of your best friend so close made you jump in your place and drop the book you had in your hands. It hit the ground with a dull sound due to the thickness of its contents, and when you picked up the book again you turned around to face the figure of the perpetrator. He just laughed at you and your reaction, which earned him a closed-fist blow directly to his shoulder.

"You deserve it" You didn't even bother to return his reproachful gaze since he clearly felt like fighting, and instead, you returned your focus to Chan's classroom and his figure. He was no longer in his seat and you didn't want to look weird by leaning out the window door to look for him. So you sighed heavily and leaned your body against the wall while closing your eyes.

Until you felt Jeongin's presence come to your side "Are you going to tell him sometime?"

You didn't answer him.

Well, actually you did, with a growl that could mean either 'I'll do it today, stop bothering' or 'not even dead'. However, the blonde wasn't satisfied with your interpretation of an animal as a response and he began poking your ribs with his long fingers, drawing high-pitched sounds of protest from your lips.

"Stop it, Innie" You moved his hands away from your figure and stood firmly looking him in the eyes like a mother who is trying to discipline her misbehaving son. He crossed his arms with a satisfied smile crossing his face with foxlike features and, with a movement of his head, he invited you to speak.

"What do you want me to say? 'Hello Chan! It's me, the person who has been sending you letters like a fifteen-year-old for a year now. I've been in love with you since the moment I saw you at my best friend's house. Do you want to be my boyfriend?" You rolled your eyes tiredly and didn't wait for Jeongin to tell you what he thought, and so you started walking towards your classroom, with an exasperated five foot seven boy following closely behind you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

You still remembered the first time you'd seen him, and how couldn't you. His presence could illuminate even the darkest corner, and his personality attracted anyone around him.

It was the summer, and you'd gone to Jeongin's house to spend an afternoon together. The air conditioning in your apartment had broken two days ago, and you couldn't stand being in your room for another second, which was already beginning to feel like an industrial oven. When you arrived at your best friend's residence, you weren't surprised by the fact that there were more people than just the two of you. Jeongin was taking singing lessons at a nearby academy and had hit it off with some of his classmates; so while you didn't know them as well as he did, you had the chance to hang out with some of them a couple of times and you could say that they were the funniest guys you'd ever come across. Especially Hyunjin, who seemed to be like a glove with your best friend.

Jeongin's house felt cold, as if winter had come only for the Yang family and, although you shivered with every step you took towards the kitchen where voices could be heard, this felt like paradise compared to the hell you lived in your house (and you even thought it was cooler in hell).

Reaching the kitchen, you heard Hyunjin's melodious voice followed by his nasal, boisterous laughter at a comment Jeongin made. You shook your head laughing inwardly as you pushed the wooden door open to enter the space, the boys turning their heads in your direction as they heard the hinges snapping back into place.

Your best friend gave you his characteristic smile as he got up from his seat on one of the stools in front of the kitchen island to give you a small hug "I thought you weren't coming anymore!"

From Jeongin's shoulder you saw how Hyunjin gave you a smile and a wave, you tried to return the gesture as best you could considering that you were trapped in the arms of a boy who flatly stated that he didn't like hugs. It was getting long in your opinion, so you patted Jeongin on the back, letting him know that yes, you loved him very much, but you were still sticky with sweat from the walk in the sun and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was so cool. When Jeongin let go of you, he opened his palm to introduce you to a person you hadn't seen before, "I hope you don't mind, that's Chan over there. He also goes to our academy, and he goes to university with us! Although he is a year ahead"

You smiled at Jeongin as you walked further into the kitchen to greet the new guest and in front of you stood one of the most attractive men you'd ever seen in your entire life. He wasn't very tall (you could tell even if he was sitting) but his broad shoulders gave him an intimidating presence, his hair looked messy in a swirl of brown curls, and although he was dressed from head to toe in black (you were sure his nails were painted that color too) on his face was a dimpled smile that took your breath away.

From one moment to the next you forgot how to articulate words and you felt like a fish opening and closing its mouth trying to find something to say, but your brain didn't seem to want to work.

You felt a small push on your right shoulder that took your body forward, towards the table, and towards Chan.

"How rude you are" Jeongin rolled his eyes, and although deep down you knew he was doing it to tease you, your cheeks turned red. You felt your tongue heavy in your mouth as the seconds passed and you were unable to utter a single word.

"Leave her alone, Innie. It's pretty hot outside, isn't it?" Chan's deep voice brought you out of your trance and forced you to look him in the eyes. He had a sincere smile on his face and was watching you with raised eyebrows, letting you know that he was going to listen to you when you wanted to respond.

Your heart did a complete turn in your chest, you were surprised in the best of ways at how friendly he was, the vast majority of boys with his attractiveness made that their only personality trait but he was attentive and considerate of all the people around him, even with complete strangers who hadn't stopped looking or saying anything to him in three minutes.

"Yes...yes, it's horrible! And the air conditioning in my house is broken and you can't imagine how hot it is! I feel like I'm going to die one of these days" The words came tumbling out of your mouth, since you hadn't had the time to stop and think about what exactly you wanted to say, and your nerves were playing the worst trick of your entire life.

Chan laughed again (even his laugh was pretty) and he nodded his head, not at all scared or surprised with the lexical vomit you just made.

"It must be like torture, really. You must be tired from the walk under the sun, why don't you sit down for a bit? The boys and I were planning to watch a movie" The brunette softly kicked one of the stools that were stored under the table in your direction.

You nodded shyly and took the seat he offered you, right in front of him. You left your phone on the cold marble of the table and looked around the kitchen for your best friend, you'd been surprised by the fact that he hadn't gotten into the conversation for five minutes and to be honest you desperately needed to focus on something other than Chan's penetrating gaze you felt on your face.

"Innie?" You called out to him with a small shout, loud enough for him to hear you even if he'd gone into the garden.

After a few seconds, your friend's blonde head peeked out of the left door that led to the living room, and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm sorry! Since you two were talking, we decided to go prepare things for the movie."

Jeongin paused and looked at you evilly, a look that you knew very well and that didn't give you a good feeling at all "Chan, why don't you prepare something to eat? I bought some snacks today, come when you have everything ready~" And before you could protest, he disappeared from your sight again while laughing and yelling something at Hyunjin.

You immediately tensed up and cursed Jeongin in your mind, how dare he leave you alone with your newfound crush. If he was getting revenge for the time you tried to play matchmaker and failed then he was being very childish, that'd been years ago!

While the insulting thoughts against your best friend and all his ancestors accumulated in your brain, from the corner of your eye you watched as Chan got up from his seat and went to the counter where the mentioned snacks and bowls of colors were located, apparently the prankster you called your best friend had already prepared the trap before you even arrived.

You didn't want to look weirder than you already felt so with your limbs shaking and making even the slightest of movements difficult; you also got up from your seat and slowly approached where Chan was, you stood next to him (close enough for him to know that you were willing to help but far enough not to invade his personal space).

He looked at you briefly and smiled sideways, and didn't say anything as he gently pushed a bowl towards you. The task wasn't very complicated per se, but it did become extremely difficult when the only thing you could focus on were the large, veiny hands of the boy next to you, you hadn't realized how attractive it was to see a man opening packets of potato chips and arranging them in a small container until now.

"Jeongin said we go to the same university, do you study the same as him?" You were startled by the sudden interruption of silence, you turned to look at Chan after finishing preparing the bowl with the nachos.

"Yes, I mean, no. We share some classes because some subjects are correlative in each one's career but I could never do the same as Innie" You smiled shyly and shook your head.

"I study psychology," You finally said and looked at your companion, who had his eyes open and bright like a puppy's (how could it be possible for a person to be incredibly attractive and adorable at the same time? It would have to be illegal), and you wondered what it was that'd amazed him so much, there were millions of other people studying the same thing as you.

Without meaning to, you raised an eyebrow; studying his reaction. He laughed again (it was something he loved to do, apparently) and turned his entire body towards you, resting his left hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's incredible, the human mind is fascinating. I understand why you study that, for my part, I wouldn't read everything you have to read even if someone paid me."

You laughed loudly, infecting Chan as well. He was doing so with his whole body, his shoulders were shaking to the rhythm of his giggles and you could notice that, from time to time, a small squeak would appear in the sound of his laughter.

When the laughter died down, you looked at him again as you put the last bag of snacks in the cupboard in front of you.

"Yes, I mean, it's a lot to read but it's like you say. I'm interested in knowing the reason for behavior, and I would like to help people in the future. Mental health is something important" This last part came out in a whisper, you weren't used to revealing the reason for your career choice, most people told you that you should have chosen something that would make you rich in twenty years.

"That's incredible, I admire you a lot" Chan said in a soft voice, and you hadn't realized how close he'd gotten until you noticed the small touch of his fingers on your arm, the color quickly rose to your cheeks again and panic took over you, making you choke up when you spoke.

"Y-yes, thank you... not many think that way" And you moved your body away from his space; maybe a little abruptly but you were sure that if you continued in that position you were going to do or say something ridiculous, you couldn't trust your ability to reason at the moment.

Chan cleared his throat at your reaction and took two bowls in his hands, starting to walk towards the living room. You hadn't realized how loudly the other two boys were talking, were you so immersed in the situation to forget the outside world? Apparently yes.

"Are you done yet? The boys must be waiting" He stopped right in front of the door, waiting for you to take what you'd prepared.

You nodded softly, and after grabbing your preparations, you followed him into the living room.

You don't really remember what happened after that, you assume you watched the movies that the boys had already chosen before you arrived. You also don't remember if you had even paid attention, probably not, because you were very focused on keeping your breathing as normal as you could since unfortunately Hyunjin and Jeongin decided to each sit in an individual chair and by coincidence the only place left to sit was in the two-seat chair that your best friend's grandmother had given to his mother at her wedding, and conveniently Chan sat there too. So as the movie played on the screen, your heart raced with every accidental brush of your arms or legs against Chan's.

The only thing you remember clearly from that moment is that you couldn't help but look at his profile, trying to memorize every detail and every peculiarity of his expressions.

The rest of the summer felt like a haze, every time you made plans with Jeongin you knew Chan was going to be there. And that did nothing to dispel the feelings that were beginning to become more present with every minute you spent in his presence.

You liked him a little too much.

His kind nature and the way he treated everyone made you dizzy every time, but you were too shy to act on your feelings and unfortunately you weren't the only one who thought Chan was a good catch. Every now and then different girls approached him to ask him out, and although he always rejected them; you couldn't help but feel a little insecure about the situation. And there was also the small problem that he confessed to you one night in Hyunjin's garden: his last relationship had been somewhat toxic, and although it ended years ago, he was deeply hurt and didn't feel ready yet to fall for someone again.

That confession left a sour taste in your mouth, so you decided not to actively act on your feelings, you really didn't want to make Chan uncomfortable or force him into something he didn't want to do, let alone ruin the friendship you were building. But something as strong as love cannot be contained, and one sleepless night you found yourself scribbling in your notebook the things you wanted to say to him, the things you liked about him, and how he made you feel when you looked at him.

You weren't thinking when you left the first envelope on his desk, it was a completely impulsive decision that you regretted the moment you left his classroom. But when you turned around to go back and throw the letter into the trash, he already found it.

At first he didn't read them, you knew because you'd overheard when he mentioned it to Hyunjin during an outing the three of you made, Chan believed that one of his friends was playing a prank on him.

And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back, although you told yourself that you weren't going to write anymore letters for the sake of your friendship and your own feelings you had to let him know (even if anonymously) that he was someone worthy of love and that he wasn't what the people in his past made him believe he was.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

Once you arrived at the classroom (miraculously before the professor, you didn't think you could endure another lecture and there were still three more hours before leaving the university) you sat down in your respective seat by the window. The day was really beautiful, and from your place you could see the large patio where the entire student body went to relax between classes, it was your favorite place in the entire building and at this moment you wanted nothing more than to be leaning against a tree feeling the warm sunlight on your face.

"I'm not saying you have to tell him that but don't you think it's been too long already?" Jeongin didn't seem to want to drop the topic for today, he'd gotten up from his seat taking advantage of the fact that there was still no sign of the teacher and sat at your table, almost knocking all the things that were on top of it to the floor. You rested your head on the bench and waved a hand in the air, brushing it off in an attempt to say 'leave me alone already'.

Your best friend snorted exasperatedly, "You really are a special case, you've been in love with him for a year, for God's sake."

At the boy's aggressive tone of voice, you took your head off the table and looked at him with a frown. He looked back at you like he always did: challenging and forcing you to speak for yourself.

"It's not as easy as you say, Jeongin" You spat angrily.

"For all I know, if he finds out, he could throw my stupid letters in the trash and confessing would not only make me look weird but it would also ruin the friendship we have" You lowered your face, feeling a little sad "And the last thing I would like to do is lose him"

Jeongin’s expression softened as he realized the depth of your anxiety, and he reached out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I get it, I really do. You don't want to jeopardize what you have but you deserve happiness too, you know? Maybe it's time to take a risk."

“I don’t even think I have a chance” You sighed, feeling defeated.

Jeongin moved closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "You may have more possibilities than you think, but sometimes you have to give destiny a little push."

You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words and just as you were about to question him further, the professor made an appearance in the classroom ordering everyone to take their respective seats and apologizing for the delay. Your best friend flashed you a bright smile with his trademark dimples and snuck over to his table, effectively ending the conversation and leaving you wondering what he meant for the rest of the day.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

If Jeongin's plan was for you to not sleep for a week, then he'd achieved it. His words had been spinning through your head like a whirlpool that seemed to have no end. You knew that he'd been friends with the brunette for a longer time than you, but were they close enough that the youngest knew the secrets inside Chan's heart?

Or was he giving you the advice that all friends gave to their other friends desperate to believe in the illusion that the person they like reciprocates their feelings? No, Jeongin wouldn't do that, he was too honest for his own good and besides you'd known each other longer (your mothers said you were born to be friends). So did that mean there really was a chance?

No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

You shook your head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts as you rang the doorbell at Hyunjin's house. Your group had agreed to meet to study and you needed to have a clear mind, the exams were around the corner and you couldn't afford to keep your brain preoccupied thinking about something that would never happen.

The minutes passed slowly as you waited for the homeowner, and while you were thinking about ringing the doorbell again fearing that the boys inside hadn't heard you, the door suddenly opened, and nothing could have prepared you to see the person who has been living rent free in your mind, you knew he would be there, but you didn't expect to face him so quickly.

"Hey, you arrived just in time, Hyunjin's mom just brought us some drinks" Chan was his usual self, with his beautiful smile plastered on his face and his relaxed attitude.

You blinked once, twice, three times before you managed a small forced smile and responded, "Oh, great, thanks," and you stood there in silence, unable to look him in the eyes.

Chan tilted his head in silent question at your attitude, "Is everything okay?"

His concern for your well-being was evident in his voice and he struck a chord in your heart. You looked at him briefly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment and nodded, still struggling to find your voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You finally responded, trying to sound casual despite the jumble of emotions inside you.

Chan's friendly demeanor never wavered as he led you into the house, you followed him with a notable distance between your bodies and so when you arrived at the living room where the boys were already seated with open textbooks and a monstrous amount of things to eat you almost ran to sit next to Jeongin, an attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, who looked at you with his eyebrows raised in a telepathic question.

Meanwhile, Chan didn't take his eyes off you as he sat next to Hyunjin on the couch in front of where you and your best friend were.

The afternoon went by slowly, too slowly for your liking, you'd gone with all the desire to study and get your mind out of the anxiety that was consuming you, but that attempt had been futile.

Although your gaze remained glued to your notes and your blue highlighter (which hadn't highlighted anything in the last hour, you'd read the same paragraph five times without getting a clue of what it was trying to say) you felt how two eyes were burning holes in your figure. The room was suffocatingly silent, and you were sure that your irregular breathing was evident to the entire group; your nerves were so on edge that when your best friend's voice filled the void you almost jumped in your place.

"I'm tired, how about we take a break?"Jeongin raised his arms towards the ceiling, stretching his back and then collapsing gracelessly against the soft cushions of the sofa.

Hyunjin nodded while massaging his neck, stiff after so many hours of looking down at his notes and reading "I thought no one was going to say it, I was going crazy."

Chan didn't say anything, he just closed his notebooks and imitated Jeongin in his relaxed pose against the couch. You felt out of place when the boys started chatting about meaningless things to lighten the atmosphere.

You only nodded when you felt your input was necessary, or laughed when you thought that was the reaction you should have but you didn't speak, because in fact, you weren't sure you were going to say anything coherent or at least make your voice louder than a whisper, so you decided that the best course of action was to stay quiet.

If the boys noticed it, they didn't say anything, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.

"You know" Chan interrupted the laughter of the other two boys after a not-so-funny story told by Hyunjin.

Everyone focused their attention on him, the tone of voice he'd used was more serious than his usual; so serious that it forced you to look up for the first time since the recess began and you found Chan's brown eyes looking directly at you, doing it so intensely that you thought he was staring right into your soul.

You held your breath, but you weren't prepared for what he said next.

"My secret admirer hasn't written to me in a few days" He was still looking at you, but there was something strange hidden in his irises, something you couldn't decipher.

Silence once again took over Hyunjin's living room, and the tension could be cut with a knife, it almost seemed like time had stopped when the brunette pronounced the last syllable. Your mouth felt dry, and your palms began to sweat. The weight of his words floated in the air and a thousand thoughts passed through your mind, each one more disconcerting than the last.

Hyunjin snorted, and looked maliciously at Chan "Maybe they are tired of you."

His mocking comment broke the heavy silence like thunder. Jeongin joined in with a playful smile, taking the opportunity to tease Chan mercilessly. “Maybe your secret admirer found someone else,” he joked, his tone light and teasing, “Or maybe they are just playing hard to get.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, wanting to burst while the boys laughed at Chan's expense while he, in response, rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically at the jokes that his friends kept saying, he also looked at you from time to time making your discomfort even more evident.

You desperately searched for words to contribute to the conversation, your voice choked by the rising anxiety. But as Jeongin and Hyunjin's playful teasing continued, you remained silent, feeling like a bystander in a conversation that was becoming more cryptic by the second. Chan's gaze never left you, and despite the teasing, there was something in his eyes that betrayed a deeper understanding. His comment felt like a puzzle piece falling into place, yet you couldn't put your finger on what he truly knew.

As the laughter subsided, the room descended into an awkward silence once more, and then Chan finally spoke up, his tone more subdued than before. "Well, whoever it is," he began, his eyes still locked on yours, "I hope they know they've brightened my days with their letters."

The comment hung in the air, carrying a weight that seemed to pull everyone into its gravity. Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanged glances, their playful demeanor suddenly giving way to something more conspiracy.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming mix of emotions. The anxiety that'd been building throughout the day reached a crescendo. You wanted to say something, to respond in some way, but the words caught in your throat.

Hyunjin broke the silence once more, this time with a touch of sincerity in his voice. "Whoever they are," he said, "they must really care about you, man." Jeongin nodded in agreement, and the room seemed to shift, it was a subtle transformation, but one that you couldn't help but notice.

Chan smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, "They do mean a lot to me."

You desperately needed a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions after that serious conversation, so you mumbled something about getting a drink from the kitchen, excusing yourself with a weak smile and slowly, you retreated from the living room, the voices of the boys fading as you put some distance between you and the group.

In the dimly lit kitchen, you leaned against the countertop, your heart still racing from the tension in the room. The realization that Chan cherished those anonymous letters hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd never imagined how much they meant to him.

Just as you were lost in thought, the sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned to find Chan standing there, a serious yet gentle expression on his face. His presence seemed to fill the room with warmth, and your anxiety ratcheted up another notch.

"Hey," he said softly, "You okay?"

You nodded, unable to form words an he took a step closer, his gaze never left yours.

Chan's brown eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had frozen around you. You couldn't contain the thoughts racing through your mind any longer. With a trembling voice, you finally asked the question that'd been gnawing at you.

"Do you know who's been sending those letters?"

Chan's expression remained calm, but you could see a glimmer of something in his eyes, a hint of knowing. He didn't answer immediately, instead, he stepped closer, narrowing the distance between you.

His voice was soft as he replied, "I have a feeling I might have a clue."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched his face for more hints. What did he mean by 'a clue'? It was clear he was being deliberately vague, and it only added to your curiosity.

"But," he continued, "I'd like to hear it from you. Tell me, do you know who it is?"

You hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on you. The walls between you and Chan seemed to dissolve, and the vulnerability in his eyes was mirrored in your own. With a shaky breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice quivering with fear and anticipation.

"It's me."

The admission hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes locked on the floor as you waited for his reaction. The seconds felt like hours as you replayed all the letters, and the emotions you'd poured into them.

Chan's silence stretched, and the tension in the room became palpable. Your heart raced, and you feared the worst — rejection, awkwardness, or even laughter.

Then, he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. The warmth and kindness in his gaze melted away your fears.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. "I've cherished every single one."

As tears welled up in your eyes, Chan reached out to gently wipe them away with his thumb. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, holding you close as your emotions overwhelmed you. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they flowed freely as you nestled into his embrace. He whispered soothing words, his voice a balm to your soul, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

After a moment of shared comfort, you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. "But how did you know it was me?" you finally asked, your voice still trembling.

Chan smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, a knowing twinkle in his eye, and replied, "I had my suspicions, especially after some of the things you wrote. But what really gave it away was your handwriting."

You blinked in surprise.

Handwriting? You hadn't considered that, no, haven't even thought about it when you started this a year ago, and to be honest you felt a little dumb.

Chan continued, "I recognized your handwriting from a birthday card you gave me a while back. It was similar to the writing in the letters. And then, well, I saw you looking at me during our hangouts, and it all just started to make sense."

You blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. It seemed like you'd left more clues than you thought. But instead of feeling exposed, you felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that he'd noticed your feelings all along.

With a shy smile, you said, "I guess I'm not very good at hiding my feelings, am I?"

Chan chuckled softly. "No, but that's okay. I'm glad you told me."

As you gazed into Chan's eyes, you noticed something change in his expression. The initial surprise and curiosity gave way to a more tender, understanding look. He cupped your face gently, his touch warm and reassuring.

"You know," he began softly, "I've always appreciated those letters. They made me feel special, like someone out there truly understood me. And I never wanted to pressure you into revealing yourself," Chan continued. "I wanted you to do it when you were ready."

"I was just afraid," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what you might think, of how it might change things between us."

Chan's thumb traced small circles on your cheek as he reassured you, "Don't be. This doesn't change how I feel about what we have. If anything, it makes it even more special."

A tear escaped from the corner of your eye, but this time, it wasn't a tear of anxiety or fear. It was a tear of relief, of happiness. You leaned into Chan's touch, and he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours, and before you knew it, his lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss. The world seemed to melt away as your lips met his, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. His hands cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The taste of his lips was sweet and comforting, like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day, you could feel the steady beat of Chan's heart, matching the rhythm of your own. The world around you disappeared, and there was only the two of you.

And just as you were lost in that sweet moment, the kitchen door burst open, and in walked your friends, their playful banter filling the room while wearing grins so wide they threatened to split their faces. Jeongin couldn't help but tease you, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone finally got the courage to make a move!"

Hyunjin joined in with a mock-sympathetic tone. "And here we thought we'd have to wait another century for this to happen!"

You blushed furiously, pulling away from Chan who chuckled in amusement, still holding you close. "You guys have impeccable timing," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Jeongin winked at you, "Hey! We're just glad we won't have to hear you two mooning over each other anymore."

#stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bri writes

884 notes · View notes

fallingdownhell · 11 months

Note

Hellloo, I've been shamelessly reading your fics. Love your writing 😭💙 I hope you don't overwork yourself tho, 20+ asks are a lot and I kinda feel bad adding to that....

I wanted to ask for the sumeru boys (Kaveh, Alhaitham, Cyno, Tighnari) reaction to being kissed by the reader(best friend). She got fed up of little hints and decided to level it up 😊

Thank youuu 💙

Aww, thank you so much<3

Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm taking breaks often so I don't exhaust myself with writing all the time, but thanks<3

Characters Included: Cyno; Tighnari; Alhaitham; Kaveh

Content: female reader; getting together; the boys are oblivious; many fluff

Word count: 2,2k words

Hope you enjoy!

Cyno

God, he would be so oblivious to your advances

he prides himself on being the General Mahamatra and how perceptive one has to be for this line of work, to be as sufficient and successful as him

yet when it comes to romance, he has no clue about anything at all

you have fallen for the man long before you guys even became friends

you always found him interesting, yet his stoic and mysterious attire made it difficult for you to just simply approach him

the friendship started slowly, but it grew steadily. Your romantic feelings for him never once faultered, but you didn't want to risk the friendship you had with him, so you stayed silent

for a few years, you were happy just to be by his side and call him a friend

but as it tends to be, feelings only grow bigger the more you try to ignore them

You still didn't want to just outright tell him, so you started dropping little hints to him that you liked him

your shoulders brushed together more often then they should, touches lastet longer than usual, you tried subtly flirting with him

and yet, nothing seemed to work. Everyone around you figured out your hints pretty quickly, even Tighnari did and encouraged you to keep trying, but Cyno was just oblivious

he never noticed anything different, brushing your behaviour off as it just being yourself

after a few more weeks of trying, you finally got fed up with him and decided to do something a little more drastic

Cyno had been gone on a mission for the past week. He had returned today and you both have made plans to meet and catch up over dinner

While dinner was enjoyable to you as usual and you had a pretty good talk, he still didn't catch up to your hints

so, as he was walking you home, like he always insisted to do to make sure you got home safely, you decided that it was finally time

once you arrived at your front door, Cyno was already saying his goodbye and turning to leave, you quickly grabbed his wrist

he wanted to ask you what was wrong but before he could do so, his eyes widened in shock as he felt your lips on his

it was only a brief moment, the touch only lastet a few seconds, but it was enough to make him feel all flustered, his cheeks turning a different shade of red

he looked at you, completely frozen, his fingers reaching up to touch his lips, eyes still fixed on you

you try to smile at him, but giving his wordless reaction up until now, you grew nervous.. did you just mess up?

meanwhile, Cyno seemed to have a sudden moment of realization, thinking back to all the times before where he never understood your hints

now, he simply grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for another kiss, surprising you, but you weren't about to reject him, anyways

this time, the kiss lasted longer, it was more than just a touching of lips together

"Sorry it took me so long to notice.", he whispered once you separated again, and you knew that you didn't make a mistake at all...

Tighnari

LOTS OF PINING!!

Being friends with Tighnari can be difficult at first thanks to his personality standing in the way sometimes

he's a great leader to the forest rangers and people respect him, but his personality in private is not really different from that, so it can be a bit overwhelming for some people, choosing to only keep the relationship professional

not you though. You took a liking to him the first time you laid eyes on him. You knew instantly that you were attracted to him

So, you decided to just test your luck, dropping little hints here and there

Wether it be in conversations, trying to flirt with him when appropriate, or through actions, making him some snacks that he likes or offering your help with his reports

Though, much to your dismay, he never took it as anything else than a friendly gesture from you, thinking that you were just looking out for him in your own way

It frustrated you, but you also didn't have the courage to simply tell him right at the beginning of getting to know him

And that's actually a good thing, because thanks to getting to know him better, you got to learn so many different things about him, which only made you fall for him even more

And it also gave you more than enough time to mentally prepare yourself for the moment when you were going to make the desicive move, which you knew you would have to make at some point in time if you wanted to progress with him

And today, it seemed like it was the perfect opportunity. He had invited you to join him on a patrol through the forest, since his initial accompany got sick and couldn't go

You happily accepted the invite, keeping him company since you weren't a forest ranger yourself. You loved hearing him talk about all sorts of things and how happy he seemed to be about someone seriously listening to him

Currently, he was in the middle of telling you some fun facts about a glower you ran into. You stood closely to him as you kept looking between him and the plant

Once he was done with his explanation, he looked over at you for a reaction. And in that moment, you decided tontake a leap of faith and just be bold

"That's interesting.. you're really good at explaining stuff like that, Tighnari."

He blushed slightly from your compliment and wanted to say something, but the words were caught in his throat when he suddenly felt a pair of lips press against his cheek

His entire face exploded in a blush as he stared at you, his hand coming up to cup his cheek where you just kissed him. His expression was one of disbelieve.. like he didn't think what just happened was real

You giggled at his reaction then got up and started walking back in the direction of the village

"Huh? Wait, (Name)! What does this mean? Why did you..", he trailed of, not being able to say it out loud

"You're smart, right? I'm sure you can figure it out, fox boy!", you turn and say, smiling at him. Yet he noticed a faint blush on your cheeks as well

He then rushed to catch up to you, his mind running at a thousand miles per hour, thought rushing through his head

You couldn't possibly feel the same way as him...right??

Alhaitham

For someone so smart as him, it's actually surprising that he did not pick up at your attempts of flirting at all

He is clearly aware about the concept and, in theory, he knows what flirting looks like

He just never thought that he would ever be on the recieving end of it, since most people find his personality to be insufferable, so why would anyone be interested in a relationship with him?

And it's not like he was actively looking for one, either. He was happy with the life he had build for himself, no need to complicate things in any way

You, however, have beem attracted to the Grand Scribe of the Academiya for a few weeks now

What first started out as mere acquaintances meeting in the House of Daena from time to time grew into a mutual sort of friendship where you two would mostly talk about books youbwere reading and sometimes other aspects about your life

Well, it was just a friendship for him. For your part, you were hoping that you would be able to build up something off of that, but he was just way too oblivious for your advances

When you got out of your way to cook your lunch, you intentionally made a bit more, so you could give some of it to him

He took it, but didn't think anything else of it. Verbally flirting was also off the table, he just didn't pick up on any hints, and pick-up lines also didn't work on him

At some point, even Kaveh noticed your attempts at flirting. He offered you his pity but still wished you look on yojr endeavours

However, only few days after that encounter with his roommate did you finally loose your cool

You had yet again invited the Scribe to join you for dinner, which he accepted. While eating, he told you about his day and how he was approached by a female scholar today

As he told you about his encounter, you soon had a realization

"Alhaitham.. that poor girl was flirting with you..", you say to him after listenting to everything he told you. This made him think for a few seconds before answering

"I'm sorry, but I disagree. I do believe I would have noticed of she was flirting with me."

"Oh, you mean like how you noticed that I've been flirting with you?"

You didn't mean to say that, the words just slipped out before you could hold them back. But now it was said, and he was looking at you with a shocked expression

"What?", he asked, blinking at you like he just heard you wrong

You decided that now was as good a time as any other, so you just took the risk and leaned into him, placing a gentle, quick kiss to his lips

You pulled back quickly, but then suddenly, a hand in your neck pushed you back into him, entangling you in another kiss

You were surprised by this turn of events but quickly closed your eyes as you enjoyed the kiss

When he broke the kiss, he gently took your chin in his hand, making you look up at him

"I'm sorry for not noticing sooner."

"It's fine. At least you're aware now.", you smile and he also gently laughs at this

Kaveh

Oh boy..

With how much of a social butterfly this man is, it's almost impossible to believe that he wouldn't pick up on any flirting attempts

Or, maybe it's better to say that he does pick up on them, but he never really takes them seriously

Mostly because usually, the people flirting with him are strangers, and the only thing strangers look for, are people's appearances

And he doesn't want to get with someone simply because of his looks. He wants the person to know him already, to want him for himself and his personality, not something so shallow

And yet, when you start dropping hints at him, flirting with him, he immediately shuts that idea down in his head, blocking out all the signs until he becomes literally blind to them

The reason? He doesn't belive himself to be worthy of someone like you. He thinks himself not deserving of your love and affection, so he annhialtes the idea before his heart can raise any false hopes

You also notice this change in behaviour from him, since he starts acting a bit more distant from you. You don't think too much of it though and continue to flirt with him, dropping subtle hints here and there

At some point, he starts hanging around you less and less, and you start thinking that maybe you made him uncomfortable with your advances

So, you give him some time and space since it didn't seem like he wanted to be around you

However, that set Kaveh off, thinking now that he did something wrong for you to stoo seeking him out like you usually do

It takes some time but eventually, you find back together and you start hanging out again, yet your feelings for him still keep hanging in the air between you two, always left unsaid

So, you decided that you had to play with open cards with him, or else nothing was ever going to happen. And you would rather just be honest with him than make him uncomfortable with your flirting again

So, one night while hanging out at your place, you decided that this was the time to make your move on him

While you were having a break from your previous conversation, you looked at him for a breath moment before getting up from your spot across from him and went to sit right next to him

You could tell that the gears in his head were turning, trying to figure out what you were doing

You didn't say anything as you slowly began to lean into him, analyzing his reaction

You saw Kaveh's eyes widening in realization, yet you kept calm. You continued to go slowly, giving him ample time to react if he didn't want this to happen

However, when he did nothing, you closed the last few inches and placed your lips on his in a sweet, gentle kiss

His eyes, as well as yours, were now closed, both of you enjoying this moment to the fullest

When you parted after a few more seconds, you were both blushing profusely, yet you held eye contact with him

He placed his hands on your cheeks, before speaking in a soft, almost trembling voice. "Are you sure about that? With me?"

You just smiled at him and pulled him into another kiss, giving him the answer he needed to know

866 notes · View notes

iddybiddysquish · 1 year

Text

I Regret Request: Aizawa x Yamada x Reader

Masterlist: Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Gender: AFAB

Warnings: Student x teacher! Oral (fem receiving), fingering, toys, anal penetration, marking, A/B/O quirk, arousal quirk, anal play, ass eating, oral sex, anal sex, creampie and sir kink - not good with terminology to let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading! This is quite self indulgent and my first time writing smut so be gentle with me pls <3 Reader has the ability to copy and edit quirks! Not beta read, we die like men.

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'I regret everything.' I whined as I laid in my bed, thighs heavy with slick as I came for the 12th time that morning. It has only been an hour or so since I'd awoken to an aching need in my cunt that was impossible to ignore and a fever so hot that I was starting to see stars.

I was exhausted and yet nowhere near satisfied. I knew I was going to need to call in sick with how painful this arousal is.

It took me a while to figure out what the cause was. At first I thought I'd been hit with an arousal quirk in my sleep, as impossible as that is. However the more I looked into the quirks I'd copied at random that took my interest, I discovered something that I didn't know when I copied the quirks.

Quirk: A/B/O

This quirk gives the user characteristics of the A/B/O genre, including giving them a second gender. This gives them claws and fangs that can retract as well as basics such as enhanced senses and physiological changes such as scent glands and enhanced animalistic thinking.

Quirk: Estrus

This quirk gives the user the ability to cast uncontrollable arousal in individuals who are touched or are within a 5 m distance.

Apparently, this included heat and rut cycles as well as an estrus cycle, the latter of which is experienced because of the quirk with the same name - side effects of both quirks. It's not helped by the fact that I was weeping out of every hole - even my ass now had a uterus and there was a third uterus with a vaginal opening between my anus and normal vagina, both with slick pouring out of them, like male Omega’s get in the Omegaverse and it was killing me. Three vaginas was too much to contend with when all I had were handheld toys at my disposal.

'I don't have enough hands for this shit.'

What made things worse was that I was capable of experiencing a mating season as well as a heat or a rut despite not being an Alpha, which confused me. I was clearly an Omega - even having the male equivalent of uteruses.

To cum more readily I even activated a quirk that gave me both male and female genitalia but the friction, despite my slick, was starting to hurt my sensitive head and thick knot that had formed from my last orgasm, and I was nowhere near feeling satisfied. So I deactivated it and wiped my hands clean before searching for my phone with disdain.

I am irritable and whiny all whilst pining for an Alpha to be submissive towards. It's a weird concoction that I wasn't appreciating as I laid in what I now realised was a nest of blankets and pillows I'd created to house myself as I cried from over and under stimulation.

Everything was made worse by the fact that I had no clue how long this would last.

‘Is this monthly or annually?’

The more I looked into this quirk the worse I felt, especially as I discovered I would have an annual mating season, would go into heat monthly, would go into estrus biweekly and would go in a rut whenever someone else experienced either one of these phenomena - so I could experience all of these at once, as I was, on top of an estrus cycle that corresponds with my menstrual cycle. I would’ve breathed a sigh of relief if I didn’t remember that there are many other people who would go through heat, estrus and or mating season, meaning I would be triggered into a rut by these and could even be triggered just by using the Estrus quirk.

‘I blame Tokoyami’s mating season…!’ I groaned, ‘Then at least it would just be a heat, estrus and a mating season…’

I wanted to cry.

“I can’t take this any more.” I moaned, deciding quickly I needed to call the school and explain what was going on. I needed help with this; there must be someone with a similar quirk that they’ve known about. After all, I copied these things from someone else.

Much to my surprise, when I explained to the receptionist I needed to speak to Aizawa, I was passed to him relatively quickly.

“(L/N)-san.” he greeted, “Are you unwell?”

“Something like that.” I groaned, crossing my legs tightly, “I’m in a very… difficult situation and I need some guidance.”

“I can help you in class if you want?” he begged, “If you get here sooner we can discuss it before class.”

“I… I don’t know if I can come to class.” I basically whispered. Aizawa frowned at this on the other side of the line with concern.

“Should I be concerned, (L/N)-san?” I sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell me the problem first?” he begged, walking down the hallway to get away from people, realising quickly that this was a private conversation, “Then I can tailor my aid better.” I groaned.

“This is going to be super awkward, so I’m sorry.” I warned, earning a grunt which sent a painful zap towards my clit, making me flush, “I copied a quirk.”

“Uh-huh…” he nodded when I didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“It’s given me a clusterfuck of hormones.” I explained slowly, “I’m essentially experiencing a mating season, a heat and a rut simultaneously as well as an estrus cycle - they are different. And I’m a bit scared.”

“... I wasn’t expecting that.” he admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I assume you’re in halls?” I nodded.

“Yeah.” I laughed humorlessly, “I know, right? I only discovered this would happen today because it’s happening now.

“I didn’t think to look at the weaknesses when I copied the quirk. It just seemed so interesting I couldn’t pass it up. Even if I edit the quirks I can't get rid of what I'm experiencing right now.”

“Stay in the halls.” he confirmed, “I’ll do some research and see what strings I can pull. You won’t be the first to experience either one of those things and I doubt you’ll be the last.

“For now, remain in your room. I’ll explain to the class that you’re having some… complications with your quirk and not to visit you.” he hummed, looking over at the watch on his wrist, “I’ll try to contact you by the end of the day and recommend you stockpile some food whilst the others are gone.” I nodded.

“Thanks sensei. I appreciate it.” he nodded.

“I’ll talk to you later. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

And just like that I breathed a sigh of relief and laid back down, hand drifting down to my painfully empty holes and clit, only to come away with heavy slick dripping from my fingers. I groaned, pulling my head into a pillow and screaming for a few minutes before going back to playing with myself, unable to hold on for much longer without some kind of stimulation.

To say that Aizawa was concerned was an understatement. One of his prized students was suffering as he walked towards the classroom pondering the best course of action. The reality was that he knew she needed relief but he also knew that he was her teacher and shouldn't approach her. He'd be abusing the situation and his position.

Didn't mean he wasn't still tempted to pay her a visit to see her for himself.

Her quirk had always fascinated him. The ability to copy other quirks wasn't necessarily unusual nor was it unsurprisingly powerful. But it was how she used it to her advantage that impressed him. She thought outside the box and adapted to new quirks so effortlessly that he couldn't help but be in awe.

In all honesty it all went right to his cock.

'Not now…' he cursed, shuffling his pants around to hide the growing chub before entering the classroom with the same enthusiasm as he did every morning.

“Good morning, students.” Aizawa greeted, catching everyone off guard, Denki and Kirishima running to their seats as soon as he entered the room.

“You’re here early, sir?” Yaoyorozu spoke up, raising her arm. Aizawa nodded.

“I have an announcement.” he confirmed, “As you know, Tokoyami is still off. However (L/N)-san is having some complications with her quirk.

“As a result it would be wise for you all to leave her be in her room and don’t communicate with her until it resolves. It’s likely to last for at least a week.”

“So we won’t see her at all?” Ashido begged, earning the shake of a head.

“But what about food?” Hagakure begged, “(L/N)-san eats a lot.” Aizawa removed some of his hair from his face, thinking about the response, before answering.

“We might need to ask one of you to deliver the food to her door.” he concluded with distaste, “It’s not ideal but it’s imperative that all of you leave her alone. It might be best to have one of the girls to deliver the meals…” he sighed, fingers to the bridge of his nose, “Although that might not help.”

“Is she well?” Uraraka begged, concerned. Aizawa nodded.

“She’s not sick. It’s just something related to her quirk.”

“Why do they have to be female?” Iida begged, raising his arm. Aizawa groaned.

“It’s not necessary. But it would be best that all the men stay away from her door.”

“Why?” Kirishima begged, “What would require only the men to stay away?”

“Is it the same reason as Tokoyami?” Asui begged, raising her hand before Aizawa could respond. He sighed.

“Wait, why is Tokoyami away?” Midoriya begged her way.

“Mating season.” Asui noted casually with a shrug.

"Oh hell yeah!" Mineta cheered, causing Sero to cringe.

"You are banned from that floor, Mineta." Aizawa warned, his hair flying all over the place as he glared, earning a gulp from the boy. His words caused everyone to turn back to Aizawa, who was rubbing his temples.

“It’s a private matter. That’s all you need to know.” Bakugou raised a brow at this.

“So who’s gonna feed her?” he begged with a glare. Immediately everyone turned to Bakugou, causing his brow to twitch violently, “Why me?!”

“You love cooking.” Todoroki stated as though it were obvious. Shinsou snorted and Bakugou ‘tched’ and looked away sharply, glaring ahead of him as Aizawa looked at his watch again before divulging into the remaining announcements, none of which really kept Aizawa's attention.

He concluded he needed to speak to his friend and coworker about this issue. (L/N)'s recklessness was beginning to worry him and he knew he would need to be careful when he mentioned this to Yamada.

Aizawa wasn't the only person to be almost infatuated with the girl. She was arguably Yamada's favourite student. She was studious, curious and, to top it off, she was attractive.

'Not now…' he cursed to himself as he left the classroom to wait for his friend to turn up for English class. In his mind this issue couldn't wait. He was tapping his thigh as he contemplated the position (L/N) was in, writhing in desire without him there to help.

It was becoming a common thought and problem for his trousers to contain.

"Yo!" Yamada grinned, throwing finger guns at Aizawa. For once Aizawa seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, even if it was to help distract from his ever growing erection.

"We need to talk." Yamada blinked, smile faltering as he took in Aizawa's appearance.

He looked as exhausted as usual, but this time there was worry. It was clear as day that he was contemplating something and it worried the blond. Aizawa was antsy as his eyes flickered around to make sure they were alone before his tone dropped.

"It's about (L/N)." He warned, the topic regaining his attention.

"Sure thing. What's up, man?" He begged, leaning against the wall casually.

Yamada attempted to look casual, but deep down he was concerned. (L/N) was rarely in trouble and fairly low maintenance as a student. So it had to be serious for Aizawa to approach him like this and risk making him late for class.

"She took on a random quirk." Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in disdain, "A Quirk that gave her heat."

Yamada blinked. Once then twice.

"You don't mean what I think you mean, surely?" Was all he could say, earning a dead eyed look from Aizawa that told him everything he needed to know. He sighed and shook his head, "Right. So she's not in class, right?" Aizawa nodded, "Damn that's a shame.

"So what's up?"

"I am worried about her." Aizawa admitted, also leaning against the wall opposite the blond. Yamada raised a brow but thought carefully before he spoke.

"She's alone, right?" Aizawa nodded.

"Tokoyami is at home." Yamada nodded before rubbing his chin.

"We should probably pay her a visit." Aizawa raised a brow, causing the blond to raise his hands, "To check on her. Make sure none of the boys get to her." The pair immediately thought of a certain grape-like fellow and simultaneously sighed.

"Point taken." Aizawa nodded before pushing off the wall. With a grin Yamada did the same before slapping his hand on Aizawa's shoulder.

"She's strong willed. She should be fine. Worst case scenario she has us to look after her." Aizawa smirked and nodded.

"Right."

With another nod Aizawa walked away and Yamada made his way to English class. And although they both felt better knowing they had each other's backs, they were still worried deep down.

In truth both were attracted to the girl. And they knew it was irrational given tshe was their student, even if she was 18 and a legal adult - that was their only rationale they both held onto.

Neither, however, felt threatened by the other. They had a mutual understanding that both cared for the girl and that if either had a chance, they could take it. But if they hurt her, they'd feel the consequences.

I waited and waited until I knew the coast was clear. The only other person would’ve been Tokoyami two floors below, but he was staying at home, so for the first time I was on my own in the halls. Despite this, I was nervous to leave the safety of my nest to the point that I waited for far longer than I needed to.

It just didn’t feel right.

Opening the door I went to walk forward, but found myself freezing in the spot at all the scents.

“Oh… my god.” I reeled, gulping.

It took me a good few minutes just standing there in order to get used to all the smells. Some were pleasant, some were repulsive.

But others were tasty.

‘The strongest scent is…’ I realised quickly, mouth watering, ‘Bakugou’s…’

My scent-clouded mind wasn’t so surprised by this reveal. Bakugou smells like burnt caramel normally, so it’d make sense that I’d be attracted to it. It really was a no-brainer, even if I longed not to be attracted to the interesting scent, just glad that he wasn't here to witness this. It's not like I was actually interested in him beyond his tantalising smell.

The scent that I wasn't expecting to be drawn to, however, was that of Shinsou's. It was soft and tantalising. Like a comfortable cloud. It made me relax and feel like curling up and taking a nap despite my current circumstances.

What was more interesting was the minty freshness that was Todoroki’s scent I could detect from the elevator.

‘It’s almost spicy to the senses.’ I mused, feeling a wave of calmness wash over me.

Again, it didn’t surprise me that I felt myself drifting his way. Todoroki was very attractive and we had been getting closer as of late. It was almost predictable.

However the scent that was most tantalising, surprisingly, was Aizawa's. It was the faintest since he was rarely here. But it was still there, teasing me and making my mouth water.

'Does he know he smells that good?'

I had to slap myself to stop myself from following his scent and instead made a beeline for the kitchen and raided my pantry, grabbing every snack and unspoilable food I could before running back to my room. I was as quick as I could feasibly be. But as I went to close the door, I found myself peeking outside and down the hallway towards Aizawa's scent.

I shook my head.

‘I can’t go sneaking around like this.’ I scolded myself as my Omega whined at me, begging to investigate. I shook my head again as I felt my thighs clench and almost whined myself.

“No. I can’t.” But I didn’t move away from the door.

‘... Ugh why does he have to smell like that?!’ I cursed, looking back down the hall. Before I even realised what I was doing, I was sneaking towards the heavenly scent, as though I were about to be caught at any moment. I could feel Aizawa scolding me, but of course it never came since he was in class with everyone else.

‘This would be so amoral of me…’

Despite knowing this, I found myself turning myself invisible as I stalked towards the teachers quarters.

However when I arrived I was smacked in the face with the scent of Yamada. And suddenly I felt my cunt clench as I took in the double scent of the pair that made my mouth water.

'Lord save me…' I almost moaned as I thought about where I wanted to investigate first.

'I came here for Aizawa…' I sighed, eyeing Yamada's door. But with only slight hesitation I made my way towards Aizawa's door with a small promise made by my Omega to visit Yamada's soon after.

I cringed at the squeak as the door opened, checking there was no one else around, but I was quickly blindsided by the absolute raw stench of his scent and felt my Omega trill in happiness.

From there I had zero control of myself as I entered his room and closed the door behind me, sniffing deeply as I attempted to fill my entire lungs with his scent.

Naturally, his bed smelt the strongest. And I couldn’t stop myself from lying on it and taking a deep breath of his pillow. With little effort I could fall asleep here and God did I want to.

However, I didn’t want to be caught by a cleaner or anything, so I regretfully removed myself from his bedding and skulked around his room with intrigue.

It was fairly neat and tidy. Everything was neatly packed away - even his dirty clothes were in the hamper, none left in sight. There were a few personables, such as collectables and books. I was drawn to the books, noting that a lot of them were either fiction or textbooks for class, some of which were missing, before looking over the neatness that was his desk with little surprise.

I couldn’t help rummaging through his things as though I were searching for something. But I was careful enough to put everything back exactly as I found it before eyeing the exit with disappointment.

However I trilled when I realised it wasn't over yet as I had Yamada's room to visit yet.

‘I need to leave.’ I concluded, anxiously despite feeling safe immersed in his scent. Regardless, I needed to get back and the need to hide was strong.

I couldn’t force myself to leave quickly. I eyed the bed and whined before eyeing his dirty clothing hamper with a dangerous thought in my mind.

‘I can’t.’ I argued as I looked inside, moving things around a bit as I took in his scent further, ‘He’d so notice if I took something of his.’

As if that was the only reason not to steal his clothing like some kind of smell-pervert.

‘Man I’ve really stooped to a new low.’ I concluded as I pawed at a shirt of his that smelt the strongest. Instincts told me I needed it for my nest and no matter how much I tried to rationalise, I found myself stealing the shirt and running back to the hallway, only to freeze when I took in the delicious scent of Yamada.

Shirt in hand I looked around carefully before skulking towards his room and quietly padding my way inside. I immediately jumped on his slightly messy bed and squealed to myself as I took in his warm scent.

Both scents were different. Aizawa's was warm, like sandalwood and cedar. It was calming and inviting. Yamada's, on the other hand, was unusual. Partly because of his hair gel, but despite that he smelled sweet and juicy, like citrus.

I enjoyed the polar scents greedily as I searched his floor for something he wouldn't miss if I took it. Finding a shirt with a hole in the armpit, I shrugged and took it before giving his room one last look over.

His room was more messy than Aizawa's, though I didn't mind. There were posters and artwork around the room with photos and other personables. It was busy, but inviting.

I knew I had little time left, so I spent it nosing through his things before leaving and using the invisibility quirk. I needed to leave despite my pouting and whining Omega and more importantly I needed to get back to my room to hide - from everyone and my shame.

I was grateful to Aizawa for warning off the rest of the class now that I’d committed a crime. But the way my Omega praised my decision left me feeling euphoric, especially as I snuggled the shirts and preened the den I’d created.

I spent most of my time preening, snuggling their shirts and masterbating. It was a simple routine as I stored my snacks carefully as though I was creating a proper den to live in. And I supposed I was, given I’d be stuck here for the next however long it would be before I could go back to normal.

When I started to hear the whirl of the elevator and the sounds of people talking that was my first clue that school was over. My next clue was the knock at my door.

"(L/N), it's Midoriya!" He whispered, making me blink and look over at the door. I immediately raised a brow but didn't say anything as I heard him shuffle on his feet, "Just wanted to let you know everyone is thinking of you. Try to hang in there. I'm sure Sensei will help you out!"

'I can think of a few ways he could help me…'

"Midoriya?" I blinked, tilting my head as I took in Todoroki's voice, "What are you doing?"

"J-Just checking something!" He squeaked before I heard his footsteps recede along with Todoroki's as their voices got further away.

I felt myself swell with happiness even if I found myself growling at the intrusion. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back though as the pair muttered to one another quietly before going to their individual rooms. I found myself on edge, listening intently to everyone returning to their dorms or going elsewhere as I hid in my nest.

I had no idea how anxiety-inducing it would be now that everyone was back. But now I knew: it’s very anxiety-inducing.

I managed to fall asleep by burrowing myself with blankets and pillows. However I stirred when I sensed someone outside of my door, hearing them muttering something to themselves.

That’s when I realised it was Aizawa of all people.

I practically leaped out of my nest, thoroughly ruining it, and leaned across the door, taking in a deep breath of his scent. It was then I realised I smelt something else tasty and wondered if he’d made food for me.

My heart and Omega leapt at the thought.

"(L/N)-san." He spoke curtly, "Yamada and I will be delivering your food from now. Eat up."

'For me…?'

I had to claw at myself not to open the door and jump on him. Taking deep breaths I tried to focus on the smell of the food instead of the smell of Aizawa as I listened to his footsteps recede. And only when I was sure he’d retreated did I open the door and take the contents, eating quickly before leaving the bowl outside of the door as he had done.

This continued morning and evening for the next few days and sadly I wasn’t improving despite ordering new toys and other kinky tools to try and earn some relief. I was extremely grateful for Hagakure bringing them to me, oblivious to the contents, although I realised quickly she was hoping he’d get to see me when she knocked on the door. I heard her sit down outside of it as she began telling me about what I’d missed at school.

It was sweet of her.

"I had to run so fast for so looooong!" She whined, "How was I supposed to know her quirk? She kicked the crap outta me!" I giggled at this, though I felt immediately upset at the last thing she said, "But don't worry! Recovery Girl patched me right up!"

I sighed with relief and relaxed again.

I considered sitting by the door, but I was too desperate for a release, I worried I’d open it and ruin everything. And of all people, as wonderful as Hagakure is, my rational brain and Omega didn't want to have sex with her.

Only Aizawa or Yamada would work. They were my prime Alphas.

So I didn’t and waited for her to leave before taking the box and abusing its contents.

By the time I had finished it was dinner time, and I basically sat glued to the door with blankets on me as I listened for Aizawa or Yamada to arrive.

The strength of the symptoms seemed to wax instead of wane as time went on and I realised I was starting to really struggle when I heard familiar footsteps coming towards the door. However much to my surprise I detected a second immediately and jumped out of my bed to take in the scent of who was approaching my room, greedily, once I realised who was approaching.

"She hasn't said a word." Yamada uttered, stretching his arms up towards the air, "I'm worried!"

"She's doing what I told her to. We should be pleased." Aizawa shrugged as the pair got closer and stood outside the door, "Maybe she'll talk soon." Yamada sighed and nodded.

"So as long as she hasn't spoken to any of the other students I can't complain." Yamada muttered, earning a low chuckle from Aizawa before he knocked on my door.

"(L/N). Your food is here."

I immediately began to purr and nuzzle the door, pretending it was them.

"Alphas…" I muttered.

However it wasn't the same. I wanted to be closer. I wanted them.

"(L/N)?" Yamada begged hearing me. He leaned closer to the door and began to hear my purring. He frowned and eyed Aizawa, who raised a brow.

"Are you okay?" Aizawa begged. I nodded.

"Better now you're both here." I hummed, still nuzzling the door.

Neither teacher knew what to make of that. But they both were happy to make her happy if nothing else.

"How you doing, kid?" Yamada begged, crouching down to my level. Aizawa looked around before doing the same.

I immediately whined.

"Horribly." I almost cried as I felt along the door, "Need knot really bad…"

"Knot?" Yamada begged lowly earning a sigh from Aizawa.

"You know we can't give you that, (L/N)." Aizawa explained, "You're our student."

"So?" I protested.

Yamada quickly realised what the pair were talking about and gulped. The thought hadn't just crossed his mind, but burrowed it's way deep into his brain. He could just imagine how her mouth would taste as he took her.

He immediately shook his head, earning a raised brow from Aizawa, though he said nothing.

"Please?" I begged, reaching for the doorknob. When the door clicked as I opened it, the pair sat back and looked in as I peaked my head out, giving my best puppy dog eyes I could muster, "Need you really bad, Sir."

Both men felt that go straight to their cocks, both twinging in their pants.

The pair could see I was flushed. They didn't need to know the details to know that I'd been cumming all day - the smell of sex was evidence enough. It wasn't helping the predicament in their trousers, unfortunately. Aizawa had a stronger will than Yamada, however, who immediately reached out to cup my cheek. I pouted up at him.

"You're burning up sweetness." He sighed, "We should get Recovery Girl to look you over." I shook my head.

"I just need you."

Yamada's will was slowly being chipped away the longer he stared at his pretty girl, cheeks puffed up and body wanting. However Aizawa had more clarity as he stood up with a sigh.

"I'll get you some paracetamol." He concluded, "Keep her in her room."

Yamada immediately saluted him and turned back to me. I was pouting.

"Don't leave me." I whined, opening the door slightly to peak out further as his body began to retreat.

"I won't be long." And with that he headed towards the elevator, leaving the pair of us together.

With a sigh I sat back down and let the door open fully as I set my eyes on Yamada, who was desperately trying to look anywhere other than my hardened nippled through my shirt or the visible wet patch of my underwear.

It wasn't an easy task.

"How you holding up?" He begged as he looked around the room, noting all the blankets and pillows covering the bed and floor. He wasn't sure how she amassed that many but it looked cosy.

"Desperate." I sighed, tightly holding my arms as I attempted to stop myself from jumping him, "Really need knot. Please, Sir." I begged, slowly unfolding myself and crawling towards him.

Yamada jumped as I got closer and looked around panicked as though he were about to be caught. He knew this was inappropriate but he couldn't help the erection in his pants that jumped when he got a good look at my cleavage.

I sashayed up to him, swaying my hips gently as I slowly crawled onto his lap even as he backed up and hit the wall. He gulped when as I put my hands either side of his face and tilted my head, a pleading look in my eyes.

"I need you, Sir. I'll beg if you want me to."

"Uhh…" he stammered, "(L/N) we shouldn't be doing this-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence when I sat fully on his lap and pressed against his hardened cock, causing him to gasp and lean his head back. I smirked when I felt his hands grasp my hips.

"We really shouldn't." He muttered with a groan. However when I rocked slowly I felt his hands move to my ass as he moaned. I mewelled as the tip of his cock pressed into my wet clit and couldn't help myself but to rock more readily against him, clawing at his chest and yanking on his shirt. He began to guide me, pulling at my hips and placing my hips in the best place to rock against his cock.

It was then that the elevator doors opened, revealing an upset looking Aizawa when he caught sight of us. I smiled as he approached.

"Join us, Alpha." I purred as I stood and pulled Yamada up and into my den. Aizawa blinked and followed, intent on trying to save his friend from my clutches.

However when he entered and placed the pills on the table he saw that Yamada was already making out with me as I sat atop of him on the bed.

Aizawa sighed.

"You'll be in serious trouble if you do this." Aizawa concluded, calmer than he probably should be. Neither Yamada nor I knew which of us he was talking to. But I concluded it was likely both of us.

I smirked.

"I'm a bad girl?" I begged, pulling away from Yamada as I sat up and moved towards Aizawa, like a predator stalking its prey.

For once Aizawa felt uncertain as his resolve weakened. He took in my appearance with greedy eyes as Yamada grinned over at him and gave a thumbs up. I pulled Aizawa to me, placing my hands over his chest as I felt him up and leaned close to his lips.

"Please, Sir? I promise to be good. I'll do whatever you tell me to."

My words were thick like honey. He felt his cock jump to life again as her hands slowly glided closer and closer to his belt.

With a sigh he made his choice and headed towards the door, severely disappointing me and confusing Yamada. However, to my relief, all he did was close the door before he grabbed me by the neck and forced his lips onto mine.

I immediately mewled as Yamada came up from behind and pulled my hair to force my neck to be exposed to him so he could nip and suck at the delicate flesh. I moaned into the kiss as Aizawa felt along my stomach and slipped his fingers into my panties.

It was no shock to Aizawa that I was practically flooding with slick - they'd seen it through my underwear after all. No, what surprised him was how readily my body was prepared for him as I sucked in his fingers tightly. He almost groaned into the kiss as he slipped in a second finger.

Yamada's hands, too, began to glide down my body, resting to grope my ass. However he paused when he noticed there was slick coming from my asshole as well and curiously decided to investigate with his finger, still keeping a tight grip on my hair. I moaned as both began to finger me as I let my underwear fall to the floor and rocked against them.

"Well we don't need any lube." Yamada snorted, earning one from Aizawa. I bit my lip at the prospect of both taking me, wanting to both speed things up and slow it down so I could get to the good parts but also to experience it for a longer period of time.

When both sets of fingers retreated I whined.

“No, Sir-”

“Shhh.” Aizawa muttered, shoving his fingers in my mouth. I moaned as I sucked, cleaning them as best as I could with drool escaping from my mouth. Aizawa smirked down at me as he slowly pulled his fingers from my mouth, Yamada grinning behind me.

“Such a good girl for us, huh, (F/N)?” he whispered in my ear. Immediately I nodded. However, when Yamada pulled away from me I whined again. That was, until he climbed on my bed and reached his hand out for me, “Come over here, kid.” he smirked.

Nodding, I followed his orders as Aizawa started to unbuckle his belt. Yamada then commanded me to get on all fours, so I did as requested, raising my ass into the air and face into the bed. To my surprise, however, he didn’t touch his belt. Aizawa, now naked, came onto the bed in front of me and watched as Yamada began to rub my ass and play with my slick that was leaking onto my thighs.

It wasn’t long before he dived into my folds, eating me out with vigour, making me squeal. Aizawa chuckled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to moan out loud for them as he stroked himself. Before I realised what was happening Yamada began to move up past my taint and towards my ass, tonguing it. Aizawa took advantage of my open mouth and slowly shoved his cock in, making me groan. As Yamada encouraged me to buck as I hollowed out my cheeks and took Aizawa's full size down my throat, making me choke. He lovingly stroked my hair as he forced himself down my throat again with the same result.

"Such a good girl." He muttered. Hearing the praise, Yamada broke free from his feast and slapped my ass hard.

"Does she deserve a little treat?" He begged, wiping his mouth where all the slick had built up. Aizawa grunted as I attempted to take his cock down my throat right to the base but ended up choking again. Still he stroked my throat as I did, watching as tears slid down my cheeks.

"I'll take that as a yes." Yamada chuckled, going back to eating my ass. However, he introduced his fingers, slipping two effortlessly into my aching cunt and using his thumb to play with my clit. On top of that he began to penetrate my asshole with his tongue, which added a whole different level of pleasure.

Aizawa immediately chuckled as I moaned through his cock. He couldn't lie, the dirty noises that I strangled to make because of what Yamada was doing was a huge turn on. He never thought about having a threesome with the man but he was having a good time.

Yamada on the other hand had always been more open to these sorts of ideas. Especially with his friend. And even more so with his favourite student. This was the sort of thing he fantasised about, albeit maybe not with Aizawa but he was happy with it nonetheless.

As Yamada ate me out I continued my ministrations on Aizawa, using my hand to massage and grope his balls gently, earning a pleased groan, which made Yamada chuckle. It was enough to get Aizawa to begin lazily bucking into my mouth. Eventually he started to slowly pick up the pace as his thrusts got more serious. Simultaneously Yamada slipped in a third finger as I started to get close, my hips stuttering against his face.

I was close and they both knew it. Yamada sped up his ministrations and I sped up my own. Aizawa gritted his teeth as he picked up the pace, grabbing the hair he was once delicately stoking and yanking it as he used my throat as a personal cock sleeve. It wasn't long before I came on Yamada's fingers.

Aizawa wasn't far behind. His hips were beginning to stutter as tears streamed down my face with each thrust. When he finally was about to finish, however, he pulled out and came down my front.

I coughed and groaned, falling to my side as I recovered once Aizawa let go of his vice-like grip on my hair. Yamada chuckled.

"Oh c'mon kid, we both know you aren't done yet." I grinned lazily up at him and nodded.

"Of course, Sir."

"Good girl." Aizawa affirmed, pulling me over his lap. I squeaked as Yamada slotted himself undere from the front before he smeared Aizawa's cum along my breasts. When he reached my nipples he tweaked them, making me whine.

"You ready?" Yamada begged as he lined himself up with my pussy. Aizawa grunted as they both waited for my go. I nodded almost immediately.

"Yes Sir!"

"Very good." Aizawa muttered as he lined himself up with my asshole.

I wasn't given any warning as the pair entered me quickly, simultaneously. I let out a loud moan as they both paused inside of me, having sheathed themselves down to the hilt.

"God…" Yamada moaned, "You feel so good, kid. So good for us."

Yamada's grip tightened to a bruising grip on my hips whilst Aizawa's hand was on the back of my neck, forcing me onto Yamada and down on their cocks as the pair pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back in quickly again. My ass and breasts jumped with each thrust as they both started at a slow but sharp pace. It was piercing in the best way possible, sending zaps of pleasure straight through me, which was only intensified when my clit caught on Yamada's pubic hair.

I felt full. And I realised I really liked that sensation.

"Yes Sir! Please, right there!" I begged as the pair picked up the pace, slamming perfectly into those spongy areas that felt eye wateringly good, so much so that, as the pace quickened, I began to feel my orgasm building.

"I-I'm getting close, Sir…!"

"Don't cum yet." Aizawa snarled in my ear.

"You don't cum until we say so. Right, kid?" I whined.

"P-please, Sir!" I pled. However the pair looked at one another before stopping. I almost cried, "No, please-!"

"You don't cum until we say so. Right?" Aizawa affirmed. I nodded feverently.

"Yes Sir…"

"Good girl." Yamada praised before they both started to fuck me again. As I got closer I panicked and quickly told the pair again, which ended in the same motion. This happened a few more times before I was literally crying from overstimulation.

"P-please, Sir! I need it so badly!"

"No."

"Aw c'mon. I think she deserves a treat." Yamada grinned, "Don't you think, Aizawa?" I nodded furiously in agreement. I heard Aizawa sigh before he gave in.

"You have been good so far…" he agreed, making me trill in happiness.

"Thank you!"

And just like that the pair didn't hold back. Their only goal was to make me cum and damn I was close. Each thrust led to a zap of pleasure as they bullied their way inside of me, making space for their huge cocks.

It wasn't long before I came undone, screaming at the top of my lungs as I clamped around them and locked up. From there the pair continued to fuck me through my high. And they just kept going, not giving me a chance to recover and instead building me up for another orgasm.

It was when that hit that the pair began to grow sloppy in their thrusts as their cocks twitched inside of me. It was obvious they were getting close but I knew they wanted me to beg for it.

So I did.

"Please Sir! Please cum in me!" I begged.

"Such a dirty girl." Yamada teased through gritted teeth, nails digging into my hips, "Knows exactly what I wanna hear."

"Such a good girl." Aizawa agreed, pulling me back to meet their thrusts. As I bounced on their cocks I felt myself building again and warned the pair.

"Good. Cum for us. Be a good girl for us." Yamada encouraged. I nodded furiously, biting my lip.

"Yes, yes!" I squealed as I came on their cocks for the third time. And it wasn't long before they both came inside me, first Yamada and then Aizawa.

I slumped, the only support being the two men sandwiching me as we all laid on the bed, never pulling out. I felt safe, satisfied and full.

"I feel so full." I purred, earning two chuckles.

"You rest now." Aizawa muttered, delicately brushing my hair.

"You did good kid." Yamada added, rubbing my back. I smiled.

'This is what I needed. Thank you, Sir.'

404 notes · View notes

daycourtofficial · 2 months

Text

My love should be celebrated

Pairing: Nesta Archeron x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - you have been trying for months to help Nesta heal, catching feelings for her in the process. One night you decide to bare your feelings for her, only to be callously rejected.

Author’s note: first time writing wlw!! Please lmk how you feel about it. Also this is basically SF but with a different love interest, however I’m rewriting that Nesta lives in a hovel bc like why tf are there slums in Velaris

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

“Go away,” Nesta says, closing the door on your face.

“Nesta!” You yell, banging on the door again.

You didn’t hear her steps recede down the hall of her apartment or any other noise from the other side of the brown door, brass letterings spelling ‘4D’ on it.

“I brought soup!” You cringe at the desperation in your voice, but you couldn’t help it. Your thoughts had whirled and swirled of the eldest Archeron sister for months. You have no clue why - she was never close or particularly kind to you, but you always found yourself wondering how she was.

Your thoughts would redirect to her during the day.

Had she eaten?

Was she sleeping?

You could ensure she had access to food, at the very least. So you had spent the afternoon preparing several different meals - soups, dinners, lunches, fresh fruits and vegetables.

You hadn’t let yourself think about actually interacting with Nesta until after you had knocked on her door. Your thoughts weren’t able to linger too long on that as Nesta opened the door, took one look at you, and sneered out a delightful, “go away,” before shutting you out.

You sighed, “I have fruits, cheeses, I made you a ton of food, Nesta. Please at least take it in inside. It’d make me feel better to know you at least had some food available.”

Nesta opens the door, her arms crossed as she fixes an icy glare at you, “do you find me so incompetent I’m incapable of getting groceries?”

Your eyes widen, shocked at how she’d perceive this, “gods, no, Nesta. I just thought-“

“Thought what? I’m too stupid to know how to cook for myself?”

She didn’t move a muscle as she kept you in place with that icy look on her face, blonde hair in a messy braided crown, as if she had slept in it.

“No, I just-I just- I wanted you to have a nice meal,” you stammer out, feeling like an utter fool for how sour this went.

“Then why did you cook it?”

With that, she slammed the door in your face, her footsteps receding on the other side.

You knock on Nesta’s door again, the same place you were this time last week. This time the scenario was different.

Your brother had given her a choice: the human lands or the House of Wind.

You found it an incredibly callous choice - certain death or forced isolation, so you asked Rhysand if you could at least be there with her. He reluctantly agreed, asking you and Azriel to stay in the House of Wind, monitoring her progress.

You were at her new bedroom door, letting her know that you were about to make dinner for all three of you. If she wanted to join you and Azriel, she could, or you could bring her a serving.

You received no reply. You could hear her heart beating through the door, it’s rhythm a clear beat through the silence of her room.

You turn, heading down the stairs to prepare dinner. You and Azriel ate in a comfortable silence, discussing the day you two had, swapping notes about the books you were reading. Nesta never showed, and you left a plate for her outside her door.

A plate you saw untouched the next morning.

The next few days took the same form - you go downstairs, prepare a beeakfast for you and Nesta, leaving her serving outside her door. Then you head to the Library to work on your studies, returning to the house for lunch.

Every meal you made a large enough portion for Nesta, plated it, leaving it at her door to go untouched until the next meal was left.

After a week of this cycle, you ask Clotho if there’s any work that can be done in the library.

Yes, I could use some assistance with restocking the shelves, she wrote.

“Fantastic,” you tell her, “I have the perfect female for the job - I’ll let her know.”

And you did, later that night. Through the door you told her about the library, and how “they need someone to help stock the shelves. It’s monotonous work, but at least you’ll move around a good bit. And it’s something to do.”

You don’t hear anything, and that causes you to ramble a bit, “not that you don’t have anything to do. It’s just - the priestesses are nice and the library’s nice and you’d get to be away from me and Az. So, uh, yeah. Bye, Nes.”

After the disastrously embarrassing way you had told Nesta about helping Clotho, you had written off any chance of her doing so. You were doubly shocked to hear it from Azriel, who told you that Nesta actually helped him procure a book he required.

Another week goes by, and Nesta has been working in the library every day, and she even began attending meals with you and Azriel.

She didn’t really acknowledge your existence at them, but you tried nonetheless. Every day you tried - you tried to talk about books, about the theater, about ballets, about the history of Velaris, hell you even began trying to get her to rank the Vanserras in order of most to least fuckable.

She would hardly speak to you, except occasional taunts and jabs. It came to a head at the end of the week when Cassian began staying at the house as well, and began training Nesta and several of the priestesses.

She’d be away for most of the day, between training and her work, so you only saw her at evening meals. She had only just began training, but she seemed lighter, as if she was crawling out of the darkness.

You were proud of her, she was doing the impossible. She was getting stronger, and Cassian and Azriel said she was even making friends with some of the priestesses.

All of her progress did nothing to help the relationship between the two of you. It still stung when she would disregard you. When you’d ask her a question and she’d blatantly ignore you to speak to Azriel.

The weeks of this iciness continue, until one night in the library you’ve had enough.

“Nesta, can I speak with you about something?”

They were the first words you had spoken all day, spending the day trying to plot out this conversation to the best of your abilities.

Nesta sighs, not looking up from her book. “If it’s quick and I don’t have to do anything.”

You sit on the couch she’s sprawled out on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Um actually I wanted to ask - why do you like Azriel and Cassian much more than you like me?”

Nesta scoffs, eyes going back to her book. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, Nes I actually wanted to tell you I uh-“

Nesta rolls her eyes, waving her hand. “If you truly can’t understand why I prefer their company, perhaps you’d be better off learning how to be less annoying and how to stop following me around like a starved dog.”

Your face heats with embarassment, fists clenching to keep your sob in, but Nesta’s not finished. She blinks her icy gray eyes up at you over her book.

“What? You think I didn’t know you had a pathetic little crush on me? Please. You practically drool every morning when you see me. I’ve seen you up at the training ring watching me.”

Hot tears start streaming down your face.

“Run along, go find someone else to bother. Perhaps they’ll give you a collar and a bone. Maybe even a bed.”

You shoot up, bursting through the library, out the double doors. You push past a confused Azriel before bounding down the stairs, seeking the quiet shelter of your room.

You had been staying here for a few months to help Nesta. She had gotten better, despite your attempts at connecting with her.

There was no reason for you to stay.

You waited until you could stop crying for an hour before darting to Azriel’s room, knocking softly. He opens the door, surprised to find you on the other side of it.

He wants to ask, knowing that your red rimmed eyes are likely because of Nesta. But he doesn’t pry.

He never had.

That’s why you came to him and not Cassian. Cassian would have made you tell him what was wrong, and then he would have yelled at Nesta for being mean to you.

You just wanted to leave. You didn’t want to see her again.

“Can you- uh, can you take me home? I know it’s late, but I’ve stayed here for too long. I should go back to the townhouse.”

You swallow, not able to look him the eye. You felt so… stupid. You knew she didn’t like you, and still your heart couldn’t help beating faster whenever her eyes met yours.

Azriel nods softly, a motion you don’t see, but he surprises you by taking you into his arms, holding you gently, and rubbing your back.

The action makes keeping the tears at bay much harder.

He lets go, not mentioning the tears now lining your face, as he opens his door, letting you in, and walks towards his balcony. He gently lifts you up, and the two of you fly off into the night.

Azriel had been conflicted these past few months. He had hoped bringing Cassian into the mix would make Nesta be nicer to you.

He was wrong.

Somehow his presence had made things worse. His heart practically broke in half seeing you rush out of the room, so upset over something Nesta had said.

And then you came to his room in the dead of night, asking to leave only a few hours later.

Azriel wasn’t irrationally confrontational. He preferred to sit in the shadows, observe, let life happen around him.

Not anymore. Not when the life was Nesta being absurdly cruel to you, day in and day out. You, who was so sweet and kind. You, who had tried to convince Rhys to let Nesta stay anywhere else. You, who had painstakingly made every one of Nesta’s meals since her arrival.

She didn’t touch a single one of them.

He stalked into the dining room the next morning, allowing his anger to get the best of him. He wanted to rip Nesta’s throat out after flying you home. Your gentle sobs you tried to hide were still ringing in his ears as he cloaked the room in shadow.

Cassian flinches as his brother stalks in, feet pounding, wings splayed. He walks towards Nesta, who doesn’t give him a second glance.

His gaze stays on her, waiting for her to look at him.

“Let me make myself very clear,” he said, the harsh tones of the shadowsinger coming through. “She is my sister, we grew up together. She is the kindest person I’ve ever known, and none of us deserve her. You do not deserve the kindness she has repeatedly shown you, despite your lack of reciprocity.”

Nesta keeps eating, her fork scraping the plate as she grabs another bite of salad, listening as Azriel continues. “I swear to the mother Nesta, I don’t know what you said to her, but if you ever make the mistake of being so callous and cruel to her again, I will not hesitate to insert myself again into this one-sided feud.”

Cassian looks between the two of them, confused. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Azriel keeps his glare on Nesta as he says, “(y/n)’s left. She’s gone back to the townhouse, likely won’t be back for some time.”

He stands up straighter.

“Perhaps Nesta knows why.”

The following weeks Nesta continued her new routine - training in the morning, stocking the shelves of the library in the afternoon, dinner with the brothers. She was spending her time with Gwyn and Emyrie, growing closer to the females she considers her friends.

And yet, every night she finds herself searching for you in every room. She looks for you in the halls of the House of Wind, she looks for you in the training ring, off to the side. Some days she swears she can smell you in the shelves of the books, your scent brought to her on a phantom wind.

Nesta knew who she was. She was cruel, callous, and cold. What she said to you was perhaps the worst thing she has ever done.

She couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t handle speaking with you about why she couldn’t be nice to you. She couldn’t watch your big doe eyes tell her that you had feelings for her.

No matter how much she might return those feelings.

She didn’t deserve your kindness, your gaze, your time. Maybe she deserves more than this loneliness she feels, though. Her nights have grown colder without you in the house, which sounded absolutely absurd.

Perhaps the house was showing Nesta how icy she had been.

It had been three weeks since Azriel took you from the house, Nesta realizes as she stands before the Illyrian, asking him for one last favor.

“No,” he says, about to turn away before Nesta grabs his wrist.

“Please,” she asks, “please just.. tell her to come. Just a place and time. Leave it up to her to decide if she wants to come.”

Azriel looks a bit apprehensive, conflicted between his love for you and his new friendship with Nesta.

“I’ll tell her,” he says, voice stern, “but if she doesn’t come, you won’t bother her about this.”

Nesta was a ball of anxiety, impatiently watching the door to see if you would come. She had asked for you to come see her at the House of Wind, and she was unable to focus on anything all day except for the lingering question.

“You came,” Nesta says, as you walk into the room.

“I’m a dog, if I hear a whistle, I can’t help myself.”

Nesta flinches at your words and the harshness of your tone. She deserved it. She deserved your ire. Still, she couldn’t stop looking at your windswept hair, disheveled from the flight with Azriel. She couldn’t stop looking at you, taking in your familiar scent, when it was all but gone everywhere in the house.

Nesta will take it to her grave if anyone asks why her scent lingers in your room.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Nesta says, unable to meet your gaze.

“How to do what?” You ask, sitting down, back stiff.

She takes a shakey breath, “how to be loved, how to - how to accept it. How to let someone be nice to me.”

You look, but she still wants to say more. You keep your gaze on her, watching as her fingers very subtly dance across her thigh, tapping a rhythm to a song you cannot hear.

“I also don’t know how to apologize.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, not expecting that from her. You clear your throat, “well, apologies usually start with uh recognizing what you did as wrong and saying why it was wrong.”

Nesta’s steely gaze meet yours, her grip on her thigh tightening.

“I hurt you, over and over again. I knew I was hurting you, and I kept doing it.”

She pauses, and you let her take the time she needs to get through what she has to say. She closes her eyes, prompting a tear to fall down her cheek.

“I kept hurting you because I didn’t want you to see me. I didn’t-“

She gasps as you reach a hand out, stroking her shoulder. She looks up at the ceiling, trying desperately to get the words out.

“I was scared and angry and I didn’t want to stop feeling those things. I knew if I hurt you enough you’d go away, because I just wanted to let my wounds fester.”

Her voice drops, as if there are other people in the room. As if her words are meant for you and you alone.

“I was scared that if I let you in, let you see me, you’d.. you’d be like them and hate me.”

You let Nesta’s words hang in the air for a moment. It was a little cruel of you, but she was cruel to you. She can wait a moment. You look at her - her usually icy gaze gone warm in your presence.

“I don’t hate you, Nesta,” you say, blowing out a breath, “I actually.. it’s quite the opposite really.”

You take a swig of your drink, “I actually was coming to tell you that I uh-“

You shake your head, feeling so stupid now. Of course Nesta was dealing with her own shit, how could she possibly be in a place to reciprocate your feelings.

“That I couldn’t stop thinking about you or worrying about you. And it’s stupid, and I know my feelings are my own burden to bear but I just-“

Your words are cut off as Nesta grabs your face, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss. Your brain stops working momentarily, her lips soft against your own unmoving ones.

When you come back to yourself, you grab the back of her neck, keeping her head in place as you kiss her back with such fervor.

Your head is spinning when her tongue slides into your mouth, and you keep your lips connected as you move your way onto her lap. She groans into your mouth at the new weight atop her, placing her hands on your hips, pulling you down. You lose yourself in kissing her, her citrusy taste making you unable to think, until a thought comes to you and you pull away, causing her to groan.

“Are you going to be nice to me now?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Nesta rolls her eyes, one of her fingers playing with a strand of your hair, “maybe if you move back in here, I can start making it up to you.”

She moves forward, kissing up your throat, before stopping right in front of your lips.

“I can make us breakfast in the morning.”

#acotar fanfiction #nesta x reader #nesta archeron x reader #nesta archeron

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

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Intertwined

warnings: blood, angst, heavy themes briefly mentioned (murder, alcoholism, PTSD), undefined age gap between price and reader (just a few years), not completely proofread, she/her pronouns used

summary: missions with price never seem to go as planned.

author’s note: I have no clue what this is. I just wanted to write for Price, and ended up with this long one-shot. I also tried sort of a new writing style, so let me know what you think! also this is sorta an oc x price bc I’ve given somewhat of a backstory and the callsign “viper” but you could also read it as a reader insert! :)

Sometimes she didn’t know how she got here.

Blood soaked her shirt. Her shoulder throbbed. Her fingers were sticky with blood– hers and her attacker’s.

He had gotten her good– the knife was still sticking out of her left shoulder. She knew better than to remove the blade. They were in the middle of nowhere; jungle spanned for miles around. She’d be lucky if she didn’t bleed out before her team found her.

“Viper,” Price over the radio. “Status?”

“Took a hit,” she said through gritted teeth, yanking her own knife out of her attacker’s neck. Blood spurted from the wound, pooling around the dead body. His eyes were still open, staring at her. She ignored them.

“Jus’ the shoulder. I’m good,” she told her captain. She could hear Price grunt in response. If she were anyone else, she might have thought that he didn’t care. But she wasn’t, and she knew he was concerned– worried, even.

There wasn’t anything he could do. He was too far away and in the middle of his own fight. She didn’t need his help, anyways. As she always told him:

“I’m a big girl, Cap. I can handle myself.”

That always earned an unamused hum from him.

“Keep moving then,” the crackle of his voice on the radio broke her from her thoughts.

“Roger that, Cap.”

She really didn’t know how she got here.

She hadn’t been interested in the military. Hell, it wasn’t even on her radar. She had been a girl from a shitty, small town with a decent family. She wanted to go to university, get a job, start a family.

Now she was alone in the middle of a jungle, a knife in her shoulder, and the mission the only thing she truly cared about. Well, one of the only things.

Price had found her when she was twenty-two. He wasn’t even a captain yet.

“You alright?”

His voice had startled her. She hadn’t known anyone else was in the room. Her head nodded instinctively, her eyes still on the dead bodies of her family strewn before her.

“Sir, we’ve got a survivor.” He was speaking into his radio. She heard a voice respond, but whatever was being said didn’t register in her mind.

She would come to find out later that her family wasn’t as decent as they had seemed. Her father had been in deep with a drug-lord. He’d betrayed him, ratted him out to the cops– and next thing she knew, she was sitting in a pool of her family’s blood.

Price had helped her up from the floor. Her pants were soaked through with blood. A bullet had grazed her cheek, leaving a nasty cut in its wake. Somehow she had survived, barely hurt. She didn’t think she deserved it.

She thought she should’ve died with her family.

“What’s your name, dove?” He asked her, his hand wrapped gently around her bicep. He led her out of the room. They passed more soldiers.

She told him. He said it was a pretty name. He didn’t leave her until she was situated in a hotel, two hours away. She hadn’t insisted he stay– yet he had. Perhaps he knew that she needed someone to just sit there.

Before he left, he put his number in her phone. He shouldn’t have– he knew better. But there was something about her, he just couldn’t help it. He told her to call if she needed anything. She never did.

He ran into her a year later by pure luck. She had fallen down a hole. Dropped out of school. No job, no friends. An alcoholic with a death wish. Price had saved her. He gave her a purpose. He made her smile again.

“You good, Cap?” She was moving again, eyes scanning her surroundings, her gun in her hands.

“Peachy,” was his response. She snorted.

He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she. It was supposed to be simple reconnaissance mission. In, gather intel, out. Simple.

Funny how the simple missions always seemed to go south the fastest.

“Cap,” it was Gaz now, finally piping up. He’d been quiet for some time. “Target spotted. Next moves?”

Price didn’t respond. A gunshot sounded in the distance.

“Shit,” she hissed, picking up her pace. “Captain, how copy?”

Nothing. Her blood was pounding in her ears.

“Viper, position?” She could hear the worry in Gaz’s tone.

“Heading towards the gunshot. Stay on target, Sergeant.”

“Roger,” Gaz spoke.

She raised her gun as she stepped through the foliage, hoping that when she found Price, he was still breathing.

“You broken?” Price was talking to her, a hand outstretched as he stood over her. She huffed, reaching up a shaky hand to take his.

“Not the first time I’ve been shot at.” She spoke, her voice steady, but he knew better. She was shaking like a leaf– and Price knew. He knew that she was back in that moment, seeing the blood pool around her. Seeing those lifeless eyes, lifeless bodies. It had been two years, but those images were still as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.

“Right,” he said, his tone disbelieving. “If you’re gonna stay with me, kid, you’re gonna have to keep up.”

She had kept up. She had worked ten times harder than those around her just to keep up. She was at a disadvantage– she didn’t have training or discipline. She didn’t want to follow just anyone into a firefight. She wanted to follow him.

“Price,” she was trying him again. She could hear the leaves rustling nearby. “You broken?”

A cough. Not just over the radio– to her left, too. She picked up her pace, jogging as she moved towards the sound.

“I’m solid,” he finally spoke into the radio as she found him. He looked up as she pushed past low-hanging branches. “Gaz, status?”

Gaz was talking, but she didn’t hear anything he said. She moved to the captain, eyes scanning him for his wound. He got hit in the thigh. She withheld a sigh of relief.

“Fancy new jewelry,” Price teased, the hand not pressing at his wound reached up to tap the hilt of the blade. She hissed and jerked away from him.

“This the thanks I get for coming to help your old ass?” She replied, holstering her gun and reaching for his pack. He’d gotten it partway off before giving up. She tugged it the rest of the way off his body, then began to dig for bandages.

“Thanks, dove,” he said, his voice a familiar, conceding grumble.

She pulled out the supplies and swatted his hand away from his thigh. Blood oozed from the wound. Price gave the slightest wince as she began to wrap the bandage, pulling tight in hopes of stanching the bleeding.

“Why didn’t you take it out?” He questioned, breaking the silence.

“Risk of bleeding out. Didn’t have bandages,” she shrugged. He gave a disapproving hum.

“I’ve been telling you that you need to better prepare–”

“Save the lecture for when we’re home, yeah?” She interrupted, tying off the bandage. He grunted in response.

“Cap, Viper, I’ve got the intel. What’s your position?” Gaz was talking again.

“We’re moving back towards the truck,” she said, earning an eyebrow raise from Price. “Meet you there.”

“Copy.”

Without a word between them, she ducked forward and slung one of his arms over her good shoulder, tucking herself into his side. She slowly helped him up, his only protests coming in the form of barely-there grunts.

“You broken?” She asked again once he was on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to hobble forward ahead of her. She scoffed and hurried to help him, wincing a little as his hand brushed the knife still in her shoulder.

“Should’ve pulled that damn knife out,” he grumbled.

“I’ll pull the knife out and stick it in your other leg, old man,” she huffed in response.

“That’s no way to talk to your captain.”

“Lecture when we’re home,” she reminded him.

“I don’t need a lecture, John.” She had seethed. Three years into her service. She was twenty-five, now. “You of all people should understand.”

“What I understand,” he began. “Is that you’re risking what you’ve built here.”

“Over seeing that guy for drinks? Are you kidding?”

“You’re being childish.” He said. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked angry. She didn’t understand why.

“I’m trying to live again! You dug me out of that hole, John. I’m grateful for that. But I’m fine now– I don’t need a babysitter. I want to rebuild my life– make connections.”

“You’ve made connections. Me, Gaz–”

“Maybe I want something more!” She interrupted. “Maybe I want something more than a mission. More than a man who pities me and brought me here to clear his guilty conscience.”

Price bristled. “You know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know anything with you. We’re comrades, we’re friends, we’re something m–”

“Alright,” his voice was tense. “Go then.”

The truck was up ahead. Gaz wasn’t there yet. She inhaled deeply as she helped Price towards the passenger’s side.

“I can drive,” he told her. She rolled her eyes.

“Gaz is driving.” She slipped out of his grasp and left him leaning against the hood of the truck before moving to open the passenger door. “Can you make it a few steps, or do I need to help you?”

He said something under his breath, but she didn’t catch it. She watched as he limped forward, one hand on the car to support his movement. Once he made it to the door, she grabbed one of his arms to help.

“You should be keeping watch,” he scolded, but there was no real bite behind his words.

“I’d rather not have to deal with you falling and breaking a hip.”

He gave another huff– but she could see a hint of amusement on his face. He was only a handful of years older than her, but she always teased him about it. He acted annoyed, but most of the time she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her jabs. At least, she liked to think he was.

She helped him get into the truck, and he didn’t complain. They were both quiet as they moved. It was a well-practiced routine at this point. One gets hurt, one helps. Get them into the truck. Get them into the helicopter. Keep them breathing, whatever it takes.

“Viper, you die on me and I’m gonna kill you,” Price seethed, his hands pressing down hard on her abdomen. She had already lost too much blood. Her eyes were barely open.

She gave a weak chuckle at his words. “We… both know… you’re dyin’ first, old… man.”

Once he was settled in the passenger seat, she shut the door and scanned the area. It was quiet, which meant one of two things.

They were in the clear, or they were fucked.

“Gaz,” Price was back on the radio. “Position?”

One beat. Two. Three.

“Almost there– shit! They’re on my tail!” Gaz was panting over the radio.

They were fucked.

Her eyes widened as she ran to the other side of the truck, throwing open the driver’s door and jumping in. Price glanced her way, but said nothing.

She winced as she moved, the knife still in shoulder an obstacle as she frantically fumbled for the keys they’d hidden in the truck, just in case shit hit the fan.

“Price, Viper, we gotta go!” Gaz was yelling as he pushed his way into the clearing, sprinting to the truck and all but diving into the truck bed.

“I know, I know!” She shouted back, fear crawling up her spine. No matter how often she was in these positions– having to act fast or be killed– she could never shake the absolute panic that consumed her.

“Viper, focus,” it was Price, his voice bringing her back. His voice always brought her back.

Gunshots could be heard nearby. Some hit the truck and Gaz was yelling. She finally found the keys, shoved under a pile of junk in the center console. She jammed them into the ignition and the truck sputtered to life.

“Fuck, go! Go!” Gaz was returning fire, shooting into the foliage as men pushed into the clearing. Price grabbed his own gun and leaned out the passenger side window to cover them.

“I’m going!” She yelled back indignantly, stepping on the gas. The truck lurched forward, nearly throwing Gaz out.

“Viper, watch it!” He called over the gunfire.

She didn’t reply, too busy on trying to get them out of that damn jungle. Bullets dinged off the metal of the truck, but none of them hit home. She inhaled deeply as the gunfire eventually stopped, and they were in the clear.

“Bloody hell, Viper, you trying to kill me?” Gaz peeked his head through the rear window, staring at her. She rolled her eyes, hands clutching the wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.

“That’s enough, Gaz,” Price. Gaz didn’t protest, but she knew he was grumbling under his breath.

“Viper, what the hell are you doing?” Gaz was yelling at her as she stared through her scope, her eyes locked on her target. Her finger itched the trigger, but she just couldn’t bring herself to pull it.

The man had looked startlingly like her father. Her father, who had gotten almost his entire family murdered. Her father, who had lied and cheated and sealed his own fate. She didn’t know why– but she couldn’t pull the trigger.

All she saw when she looked at that man was the image of her father, smiling at her at the dinner table. Her father, teaching her how to ride a bike without training wheels. Playing games with him in the backyard. Watching movies with him. Her father.

Price shouldn’t know– couldn’t. But he did, apparently. “Gaz,” his voice was stern. “Enough. She’s got it.”

She took the shot.

“If I was tryin’ to kill you,” she threw the words at him over her shoulder. “You’d be dead.”

Gaz snorted, but didn’t take the bait. She didn’t know if she had wanted him to. Silence fell around them, then.

“Safe house is up ahead,” Price broke the silence that had consumed them for the past twenty minutes. “No bickering when we get inside, you two. Like a bunch of damn kids,” he said under his breath.

The safe house was a dilapidated little cottage on the edge of a forest. It was hidden enough to the naked eye that no one unwanted should stumble upon them, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t be cautious. She slowed the truck to a stop behind a thick bush nearby, just in case.

The three clambered out of the truck, grabbing previously discarded gear and trudging through overgrown grass to the house. Gaz went in first to sweep the house. Once he gave the all clear, she and Price beelined for the small kitchen. Gaz was somewhere else– probably the shower.

This was their routine. Find safety and patch each other up. He usually helped her first, but she forced him into a rickety wooden chair before he could so much as gesture at the knife still in her shoulder.

Her hands were shaking as she untied the bandage around his thigh. His chin was tilted down, eyes watching her as she worked. Neither said a word. Another part of their routine.

Safety. Silence. Stitches.

She cleaned the wound. He barely flinched. She threaded the needle. He breathed in. She looked up at him, a silent signal. He breathed out as she pushed the needle into his skin and sewed the wound shut.

“Thanks, dove.” He spoke when it was done.

She gave a small nod as she finished tying off the clean bandage. She stood and started towards the kitchen sink, but one of his hands grabbed hers.

She looked down at him, still situated in the chair. His thumb brushed the back of her red-stained hand.

“Captain…” she breathed out, her eyes meeting his.

There was a softness in his gaze that she would never truly understand. She didn’t know what he saw in her.

She didn’t know why he had done what he did for her. Stayed with her after that night, all those years ago. Put his number in her phone. Pulled her out of that hole she put herself in. Helped her through her recovery. Trained her, believed in her, stuck his neck out for her.

He released her hand.

She really didn’t know how she got here.

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lbulldesigns · 13 days

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AITAH For accusing my former best friend of trying to break up my relationship, and promptly ending our thirteen-year long friendship?

Posted 18th of May, 2021

I (18 M) need some outside opinions.

Background information. I have been best friends with Pow (18 F) since we were six, I first met her when my Godfather Benny introduced me to his best friend's newly adopted daughters. Both girls had been in the foster system for nearly a year after their parents died, and were lucky enough to get adopted out by their Godfather Van after he was able to track them down and prove to the courts and children's services that he was a safe option.

At first, I was a little intimidated by the older sister, we'll call her Daisy (she's named after a flower and I don't think she'll appreciate me using her real name) because she seemed angry at everyone but quickly put on a friendlier face when she saw how nervous I was.

When I saw Pow, I felt an instant attraction to her (not romantically, I was just interested in how pretty her blue hair was) and ended up spending our first encounter trying to get her to open up and talk to me. She was traumatized by the past year and had turned silent as a result. I felt so proud when I finally got her to smile and giggle, we became thick as thieves afterward, she was my best friend.

We shared everything together, our interest in academics, such as art, mathematics, video games, dancing, robotics, computers, and later DND.

There were some things we did separately. Pow competed in gymnastics, and I would take part in skateboarding competitions. And without fail always came to each other's thing to show our support.

Pow had some difficulties with her older brother Lo (fake name), he constantly took his frustrations out on her and everyone pretty much gave up on him ever getting a clue and stopping. So, we all tried to get Pow to stand up for herself, we figured if she stood up to her "bully" then he would learn to back off. However, Pow was a shy one and never spoke up for herself. As a result, she was hesitant around others and had difficulty making any friends outside of myself.

This became more apparent once we got to high school. We had a few classes away from each other and in these classes, I made some new friends, from there I got convinced to join the basketball team when some of my new friends told me it could help with my college perspectives. In lieu I convinced Pow to try out for the cheerleading squad, as per my new friends' advice, I made it onto the basketball team but Pow didn't make it onto the squad which I was surprised by because she's a pretty decent dancer.

Because I was on the basketball team, I wasn't able to participate in most of the same clubs as Pow and ended up moving on from these interests to focus more on my future, which is understandable because I can't spend every day playing make-believe anymore.

Pow was set in her ways however and seemed to want to continue playing make-believe and seemed determined to hate my new friends. She constantly avoided them and would rather sit alone during lunch than hang around me when they were around, she would always get a sour look on her face whenever they were around me (which was a lot of the time) and would decline invitations to hang out with them, she made no effort to get to know them properly and this hurt. But I still persisted with our friendship because, despite everything, I do care for her.

And then I met my now GF Kara (not her real name), Kara is sweet and funny, she writes me poems and little love notes with cute little love hearts and takes her academic future seriously. She has been trying to convince me that my friendship with Pow is toxic and understands why I couldn't just end the friendship but says that I wouldn't be the bad guy if I did.

I would get uncomfortable whenever she brought this up, but more and more recently I began to see things from Kara's perspective, albeit guiltily. I brought up my concerns with Daisy and her GF, and they were convinced that Pow is probably a bit possessive considering their own problems with her. Pow hates Cat (the GF) and even made her cry after Cat made an offhanded comment about law enforcement that seemed to trigger her. Daisy promised to speak to Pow about everything after everything between them had cooled down, she and Daisy got into a massive blowup about making Cat cry, something that Cat was feeling seriously guilty about.

So, when, three days after Kara and I decided to become official, Pow pulled me aside during lunch and confessed that she "loved me" and didn't want to just be friends anymore. I lost it.

I actually shouted at her in the middle of the lunch crowd and shamed her in front of the whole school. I called her a "possessive psychopath" who can't let anyone be happy, she pretended to look confused and asked what I was talking about, and I reminded her I was in a relationship as in I have a girlfriend. She managed to conjure up some tears and said that she didn't know, but I wasn't falling for it. I flat out, told her that I was done with her and this "friendship" and left her standing there.

At the time I couldn't feel anything but angry, and vindicated. My friends were laughing and joking about the situation, and Kara was super cuddly with me and kept asking me if I was okay and saying that I didn't do anything that wasn't due.

But now I'm questioning myself, with the anger cooled off. All I can see is Pow's sad doe-eyed look and the sound of the rest of the school snickering at her. She didn't turn up for classes for the rest of the day, and on my way home I heard a group of girls sl** shaming her.

Zer, my one new friend that Pow actually gets along with, called me an AH, and she thought I was a better person than that, and that she was now reconsidering her friendship with me.

So, Reddit. AITAH for ending a toxic relationship?

(This is a fanfic, please read tags)

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cheolbooluvr · 2 years

Text

tomorrow tonight

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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 20.8k (ha ha buckle in)

warnings: divorce, implied sexual activities (but no smut), profanity

a/n: it’s here!! first, i want to say thank you all for your interest in this fic; it was truly unexpected, but your support motivated me to finish this after months of sitting on it with no clue as to which direction i wanted this to go. this started roughly three months ago when i started watching thirty nine (which i finished last night btw; go watch it if you’re into sad stuff), and also listening to loote’s song of the same name! smth abt tomorrow tonight + thirty nine angst made me want to write this sadness so...yeah. i truly did not anticipate this being my longest fic to date at 20k words, but here she is :’) thank you to @gyukult and @twogyuu for beta reading this bc i was too tired to re-read it myself LOL @_@ i hope you all enjoy it, and as always, please be sure to leave your feedback via reblogs/replies/asks!! <3 enjoy !!

tag list: @itaewonsquad97 @yeosangsbiceps @haoraecane @dontflailmenow @flwrsol @blackswann-53098 @yjhdaily @kpopjackie @letskookandbaek @lovelywoo @chanreads @xmessaroundx @romromthedeer @soobin-chois @qy61 @chwebychew @ahgastayzen (if i missed you, i am SO sorry T-T)

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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“Hey, jackass. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Your voice filled the empty night air, crude words accompanied by the chilling winter wind. He was facing away from you, his back hunched over as he sat on the carousel in the children’s park outside your apartment. Even under the poorly-lit street lamps, you recognized the back of his head: the way his hair—cut close to his nape—faded into his skin, and how his white, cotton button-down shirt hugged his wide back as he rested his elbows on his knees. He was rubbing his palms together, his breath visible in the night as he tried to warm himself.

Dipshit, you thought to yourself. It was below freezing and he was out here without a jacket.

He turned around to greet you with a smile, though it wasn’t the same cocky grin he usually gave you when you called him unpleasant names. This one was different. It was… sad. Given the way his hair was tousled, you could guess he had probably gone drinking with his coworkers before he came to see you.

“What’s up?” you asked, dropping the black plastic bag in his lap as you sat down next to him.

“How was work?” he replied, answering your question with a question, something he knew you hated but still did anyway.

“Fine. Same ol’, same ol’, ya know?” You stuck your hand in the bag and pulled out a cold beer; you had stopped at the convenience store just a couple minutes away and grabbed some drinks and snacks, figuring Seungcheol probably wouldn’t mind considering how much the man usually drank. Besides, you had been spending long days at the office this past week finishing a project for a VIP which didn’t give you much time or energy to cook at home, so this was your next best option. Looping your finger through the pull tab, the can opened with a satisfying hiss. Seungcheol followed suit with his can of beer, raising it to tap against yours before the two of you took huge gulps, each finishing with a loud, content sigh.

“Oh?” Seungcheol moved his face to inspect the can closer. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

He chuckled when he saw the incredulous look on your face, the way your eyebrows seemed to go in different directions with your mouth slightly agape at such a dumb question.

“You act like we haven’t been friends for a long time, stupid.” Of course you knew his favorite beer, but that begged the question: did he know yours?

“Best friends,” he corrected you, which warranted a loud smack on his arm. He winced, and despite being a big boy with big, beefy arms, the impact you made caused his arm to sting. This time, it was your turn to laugh at the man rubbing the spot where you had hit him.

Reaching your hand into the bag again, you pulled out a triangle kimchi tuna kimbap. Seungcheol snorted. No matter how much time passed, you were just too predictable. He grabbed the kimbap from you, tugging on the tab and expertly freeing the plastic from around the seaweed. He handed it back to you, your dumbfounded face causing him to snicker even more.

“You’re like a fucking magician,” you muttered. Even your reaction to him unraveling the snack for you never changed, reminiscent of the very first time you two met.

He had found you sitting outside a convenience store in elementary school, eyes puffy from crying about who knows what, a discombobulated mess of rice and seaweed on the table in front of you. Seungcheol, even as a young child, was always considerate, so he had gone inside, bought another kimbap, and brought it out to you. You weren’t sure who this strange boy was, but the thought of trying to open another kimbap frustrated you to the point of tears—again.

In a panic, he swiped it from you, urging you to quiet down so passersby would stop staring. The crinkling of the plastic was enough to spur your curiosity as you watched him move swiftly, pulling it apart with ease.

“Here,” he had said, his voice octaves higher than it was now. He had watched you fondly as you devoured the snack, your cheeks full and a smile gracing your lips.

Not a lot had changed since then, especially that warm smile of yours that brought him comfort after a long day. He chuckled as you shoved the rice into your mouth, the seaweed producing a gratifying crunch as you bit down.

“You don’t change, do you?”

“What? I’m starving,” you said.

“They don’t feed you at work?”

You shook your head. “Honestly, when I’m in the zone, I forget that I’m hungry until I leave.”

“You need to take care of yourself,” he nagged.

“I do. I just sometimes forget to eat. It’s no big deal.”

Cheol took another swig of his beer, the cold liquid contrasting the burn of the alcohol as it went down his throat. “It’s no big deal until you get sick.”

“Okay, Dad,” you sneered. “Geez. I’m eating now, so it’s fine.”

Seungcheol gave you the look, and you groaned. When his eyebrows furrowed the way that they did, you knew he was going to lecture you. Part of you appreciated how much he cared about you, but sometimes it was too much. You had moved to the city to get away from your own nagging mother only to be accompanied by another nagging parent. “Don’t tell me you’ve been eating like this?” He took your silence as an answer and continued, “You need to eat real food.”

“Well, I don’t think this is imaginary,” you quipped.

“I don’t need your sarcasm. I’m serious.”

“Cheol, I’m fine. Really.” Your limbs started to shake the longer the two of you sat outside. “Wanna come up for tea? Where it’s warm?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t,” he said, a sigh escaping his lips. “The wife is waiting for me at home.”

You cowered at the word. Even though he had been married for almost two years, it still sounded strange and unfamiliar coming from his mouth.

“I’ll call you, yeah?” He let out an aching groan as he stood up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants.

You nodded, but it wasn’t like he saw you, his eyes already fixed on his BMW. You watched as he left you on the playground alone, his body disappearing as he entered his car and drove off. This wasn’t an unfamiliar sight for you: Seungcheol’s back as he walked away. In fact, it was a sight that you knew well.

All too well.

———

“You’re stupid, you know that?” Dahyun’s words were piercing, but it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that come from her sharp tongue. As a matter of fact, it was almost a daily occurrence, some variation of being “stupid,” “clueless,” “naive,” or whatever word she could find in her vocabulary brought up whenever you mentioned Seungcheol.

You stared ahead, your eyes preoccupied on the golden glow the light cast upon the bottles in front of you as the two of you sat at the bar on a Friday night. Dahyun’s glare could burn holes through your skull, but you paid her no attention, instead choosing to lift the glass of whiskey on the rocks to your lips. The smokey aroma hit your nose first as you braced for the impact of the harsh liquor on your tongue.

The first time you’d had it was in university—Seungcheol had somehow convinced you to come to his business club’s social mixer at the local bar everyone frequented. Even back then he had a wide frame that filled out his university jacket nicely, your school’s name embroidered across the back. He had excitedly introduced you to his club members and asked if you wanted anything to drink. Considering you’d had a midterm the following morning, you told him, “Just a coke,” but he had insisted you make it a jack and coke instead.

“You like that?” he had asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s not bad. What are you drinking?”

“Just a whiskey. Neat.” Seungcheol had always been a goofy kid growing up, but when you two got to university, he had somehow grown into this handsome, charming man who you barely recognized. Nonetheless, he was still your best friend, and you were grateful he thought the same of you. Even then in the bar, you couldn’t miss the way some of his fellow club members ogled at him, but his attention was on you. “Want some?”

A sense of pride washed over you as you took his drink from his hands and drank from the same cup his lips touched, relishing in the jealousy of the other girls who wished they could be you.

The moment the liquid entered your mouth, you nearly spit it back out into his cup.

You hated whiskey.

Yet, you continued to drink it on certain nights because you wondered if that’s what his lips tasted like. If this was the closest you could get to him, then so be it.

“God, can’t you drink something besides whiskey? Or at least add some coke like a normal person.” The tone in her voice made it clear that she was fed up with your actions once again. Yet, despite her constant pestering, you were her best friend after all, and her concern came from a place of love. It saddened her to watch you make one mistake after the other, but what if you didn’t want her best intentions? “It’s disgusting. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“Worry about finishing your cocktail before you nag me about my drink,” you replied, taking another sip of the forsaken liquid.

“What’s up with her?” Another voice brought you out of your slight daze, your eyes moving to the bartender.

“She’s caught up on him,” Dahyun spoke for you, leaning back in the stool and pretending to examine her martini. She set the glass down and fiddled with the olive in the cup, her attention turning to the man in front of you both.

The bartender was wiping down a glass when he let out a quiet chuckle. “The childhood friend, right?”

“Vernon, please. I don’t need you involved in this, too.” Vernon was a college friend of yours and also the head bartender of this pub that you and Dahyun frequented. The latter swung her legs around on the stool to reposition herself to face Vernon, placing her head in her hands as she looked at him.

“She’s hopeless. Help me out, Vern,” she begged, batting her eyelashes at him.

Vernon blushed, his eyes skirting to the glass he had been wiping for the last five minutes. Dahyun made him shy, and you all knew that, but she didn’t care. He let out a huff of air through his nose, the corner of his lips turning up into a small smirk. “Look, I don’t want to get involved—”

“Then don’t,” you interrupted. You took another sip of the whiskey before swirling the golden drink around in the cup and observing the way it moved with elegance around the big block of ice.

“But,” he continued, “I do think you’re an addict.”

You looked up at him, puzzled by his choice of words. “A what?”

“You’re addicted to him.” It was irking how nonchalant he was as he set down the glass. He propped himself against the counter, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up just below his elbows, exposing his forearms.

“What the fuck?”

“He’s right,” Dahyun chimed in. You could see the lightbulb turn on in her head, and you were not ready for where she was going to take this. “He’s a drug you can’t quit.”

“He’s not a drug,” you argued. “He’s a human.”

“Ever heard of a metaphor?” she quipped back.

Ugh.

She took another sip of her drink before continuing, “Besides, he’s married.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re still caught up on him.”

The blood within your veins began to boil. “I’m not ‘caught up’ on him,” you disputed, throwing your fingers up to make air quotes. “He’s my best friend.”

“No, I’m your best friend. You’re in love with him.”

“I can have more than one best friend,” you argued back.

“Yeah, sure. But he’s not your best friend if you’re in love with him.”

“Why can’t it be both—” you caught yourself. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dahyun’s lips.

Check fucking mate.

“Look,” you began. Whatever came out of your mouth next, you knew neither Dahyun nor Vernon would believe you, but you’d give it a try anyway. “My friendship with him is more important than whatever feelings I have for him.”

“You’re telling me you’d rather suffer for the rest of your life if that means you don’t lose him?” Dahyun probed with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not suffering.” Now, Dahyun knew you were lying by the way you refused to look into her eyes, your fingers fidgeting with your glass.

“You’re pathetic.”

You were used to the insults Dahyun threw your way, but this time, she meant what she said, and it pierced your heart knowing that this was what she thought of you. She chugged the remainder of her drink and slid the empty glass across the bar. “I’m going to go dance. Thanks for the drink, Vern.”

He nodded at her, watching her slink away to where the crowd of people were.

“Ouch.” You had completely forgotten about Vernon’s existence, typical of a guy like him who seldom had much to say. Even he knew that Dahyun’s words weren’t meant to be taken lightly, and he had to agree with her.

Even you agreed with her. You were pathetic—waiting around for someone who would never be yours, watching him love someone else, someone who wasn’t you, and despite all this, you continued to stick around like a lovesick fool.

So, yeah.

The word weighed heavy in your chest as you tapped the counter signaling to Vernon that you wanted another drink. He handed you another whiskey, the strong smell hitting your nose before you could even bring it to your lips. Instead of curiosity, a wave of nausea came over you instead.

Suddenly, whiskey didn’t seem so intriguing anymore.

———

It happened while you were trying to forget him.

They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So, that’s what you did. And that’s how you found yourself under a stranger that night, someone who had offered to buy you a different drink when he saw that yours had gone untouched for a while.

Instead, he bought you a cosmopolitan, citing you might enjoy it more. And maybe it was a little presumptuous of him to assume such a thing, but you had to admit that it was certainly better than what you had been drinking all these years. It also made you feel giddier and more confident when the whiskey only made you feel sad, and maybe that was why you agreed to go home with him.

It felt good though, his skin against yours, just the two of you in the darkness of his bachelor pad. The way he moved was gentle and careful, as if somehow he knew you were in a fragile state of mind. He moved his hands to your waist, lifting your shirt so gingerly as he slotted his legs between yours, pushing them apart to make room for himself on the bed.

Your breathing grew heavy, and you closed your eyes. Suddenly, you were met with a familiar face: his frosty skin that contrasted his jet black hair, his long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked, those plump, whiskey lips that you so badly wanted to kiss—

“Seungcheol,” you gasped. The weight on your body was now gone and you opened your eyes.

Fuck. The man above you sure as hell wasn’t Seungcheol and he looked just as confused as you, if not more.

You hated to admit it, but Dahyun and Vernon were right: you were addicted.

“Shit. I am so sorry,” you blurted out.

“Look, I don’t know who this Sungchil—”

“Seungcheol,” you corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” he replied, waving you off. “I don’t know who he is, but let me be the one to show you a good time.” Without missing another beat, he planted his lips against your neck, but the mood was ruined and you couldn’t go a single second without thinking about your best friend. You had a problem and maybe this was the wake-up call you needed.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.” You sat up and grabbed your things, fumbling in the darkness to hastily put your shoes on and get the fuck out of there.

The night was cold—freezing even—the brisk air nipping at your cheeks as you waited for a taxi to come. A lot had happened that night, and as you stood there, legs shaking, you made a decision.

You would quit Seungcheol.

For good.

———

Once upon a time, you and Seungcheol were terrible students: you would ditch class to go get rice cakes and sausage from the street vendor right outside the school, and when the bell rang, while most of your peers were rushing to get to cram school, the two of you would go to a nearby diner and dick around until the sun set.

Yet, despite your poor habits, you still ended up in the top ten students of your class and Seungcheol, well, let’s just say he was lucky to have such a smart friend like you. Though, none of that mattered in the end as you landed your dream job doing branding design and marketing at a renowned company, and he was the department manager for a food supply conglomerate. One look at you two, and everyone would think you had everything you could ever want. And while that was mostly true, there was one thing you wanted but could never have.

Your best friend.

You were busy typing out an email to a client, your finger aggressively clacking against the plastic keys. If someone heard you, they might think you were chewing someone out, but you were just a loud typer was all. Everyone had already left the office, and you were the last one there, the lights turning off slowly one-by-one. That was your sign to leave. As you were packing up, your phone vibrated on your desk.

1 new message from Cheollie.

2 new messages from Cheollie.

Your eyes glazed over the notification.

You desperately wanted to open the message, a selfish part of you hoping that maybe he would have some epiphany that you were the love of his life and that he’s so sorry it took him this long to realize.

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was married. He was happy. He was happy and married. You would never be the reason for his happiness.

But… what if…? Your face was illuminated by the blue light of your phone, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness as the lights around you shut off for good. When you opened his message, your shoulders dropped.

Look at this guy LOL

[1 attachment]

You opened the message to find a photo of some guy wearing denim shorts, crocs, and a cowboy hat.

Dear god. Is this what the world has come to? You let out a chuckle, your head betraying your heart as you went to type a response.

You stopped yourself.

No. You shouldn’t. Replying to him would only open the door for conversation, which was the last thing you needed right now.

The road to healing was a long one, but you could do it if you put your mind to it. Or, at least that’s what you told yourself every morning. In the beginning, it was difficult not to respond to Seungcheol’s messages almost immediately or send him pictures of what you were eating for lunch and dinner. But as the days went on, it became a little bit easier, the temptation fizzling out as you responded to him late or left him on read.

At first, Seungcheol just assumed that it was because you were busy with work, but when he saw that the little ‘1’ by his message was gone and he still hadn’t received a response, that’s when he began to worry.

To say you were surprised to see him standing awkwardly outside your apartment with a plastic bag would be an understatement. And also completely unhelpful if you were going to quit him for good like you had claimed.

Yet, here he was, loitering in the cold, though this time, he was wearing his favorite maroon, Moncler puffer jacket. He was kicking the ground like a little child playing with the rocks around him until he saw your shadow. Your heart dropped when he looked up at you, his face beaming under the shitty light of your building.

“Hi,” he greeted you quietly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Geez, not even a ‘hi’ back?” he joked.

To be fair, you were still processing his sudden appearance in front of your house. Usually, he’d shoot you a text or a quick phone call to let you know he was coming. But tonight, he was here, completely unannounced because a part of him wondered if you’d ignore him if he tried to reach out, and he was too scared to find out.

So, here he was.

“Hi, Seungcheol,” you caved, the tone of your voice sounding more like an exasperated mother than someone excited to see their best friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought dalkgalbi and beer,” he replied, lifting the bag. You recognized the black chicken on the logo—your favorite restaurant. You’d be crazy to say no, so you just nodded your head towards the entrance as the two of you entered the building. Pressing the elevator button, you stood in silence as you ascended the eight stories it took to get to your apartment.

The path to your unit was second nature to Seungcheol—he had spent many of his days at your place even before he had gotten married. He even knew your passcode to get in, expertly entering the numbers as if he was the one who lived there and not you.

Quitting him would be a lot harder than you thought.

You sat on your couch, unpacking the bag while he moved effortlessly in your kitchen, from grabbing plates and utensils to filling up the water pitcher like it was second nature. You had lived in this apartment since college, and Seungcheol spent most, if not all, of his days there with you like it was his own home. You even had a spare blanket and pillow for him and, not to mention, the spare toothbrush you kept for him in the cup on your bathroom sink. Once upon a time, he had a pair of slippers there, too, and your mom would often mistake them for your boyfriend’s.

“They’re not my boyfriend’s,” you’d painstakingly correct her, though you had wished they were.

If Dahyun had been longing for her best friend who was married, you would have called her pathetic, too. The more you thought back to that night at the bar and that stranger’s home, the throbbing in your head grew worse.

“What happened here?” he asked, setting everything down on the table in front of you. Your apartment was in complete disarray, random pieces of paper scattered here and there, about three loads of laundry were piled on your couch. For the past few weeks, you had been so busy at work that you rarely had energy to clean or put clothes away, so in the mornings, you’d pick the least wrinkled articles and throw those on for the day, swearing you’d put everything away when you came home that night. But you never did.

“Work’s kept me busy,” you stated, opening the containers of spicy stir-fried chicken covered in mounds of mozzarella cheese. The spice was the first to hit your nose, and you embraced its warmth briefly before digging in with your chopsticks. Seungcheol watched you fondly, a never-ending string of cheese stretching from the container to your mouth.

“Here,” he motioned, handing you a sizable portion wrapped in lettuce. You didn’t grab the wrap from him, instead just opening your mouth and biting a huge chunk off. The spice of the sauce was cleanly contrasted by the lettuce and the pickled radish that he had put inside for you. Continuing to munch on the dinner, you opened the can of beer and poured it into the glasses Seungcheol had gotten earlier.

“Thanks,” you said as you chewed, huffing from the heat and spice of the meat.

Seungcheol quirked his eyebrow at you, slightly aghast at the sight of your stuffed cheeks. “Finish eating before you speak,” he scolded, using a napkin to wipe the sauce from the corner of your mouth. It was the little things like this that always made your heart flutter, but when he was always nagging you, a part of you wondered if maybe Seungcheol saw you more as a little sister instead of as a woman.

“You never answered my question,” you prodded, your eyes zeroing in on the shiny metal on his finger. He froze, pulling his hand away from you.

“What, I can’t visit my friend?”

“You can, but you usually call.”

Honestly, Seungcheol didn’t have a good enough excuse other than, “I forgot.”

Deciding not to interrogate him any further, you accepted his response and moved on. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.” And there it was again. Those killer words and actions that sliced and punctured your heart, slowly wearing it away until there was nothing left but bits and pieces. He was making this really difficult, but you were steadfast in your resolution: after tonight, you would quit him no matter what.

For the remainder of the evening, you and Seungcheol cleared out the dakgalbi and several cans of beer while watching the latest episode of Thirty-Nine. It was common for you both to watch TV shows and movies together; though he was known for his intimidating look and build, Seungcheol had quite the affinity for romance movies and shows. In college, you would sometimes skip the parties and spend the night watching rom-coms instead. It was almost like a tradition for you two to have a marathon when you felt too lazy to do anything or felt that you “deserved” it after submitting your midterms and finals.

You didn’t know this, but that was one of his favorite things to do with you until you started dating Yanan, a generally sweet guy, but he had a tendency for jealousy, and so your movie nights became more scarce. Seungcheol and Yanan never got along; Yanan didn’t like that your closest friend was a guy, and Seungcheol didn’t like that the closest guy to you wasn’t him. When the two of them were together, it was a constant competition for your attention.

Yanan was your standard, run-of-the-mill guy from the countryside: gentlemanly, sweet, and he always looked out for you. You felt protected when you stood next to him. It didn’t help that he was also tall with broad shoulders (thanks to his history as a swimmer), and he had the kind of smile that lit up the whole room, that cheesy, Taylor-Swift-lyrics type of smile that was contagious. You were happy with Yanan.

For a while. Those once saccharine smiles turned sour, and you had found yourself arguing with him almost daily. The problem?

Seungcheol.

Yanan had had enough of your friendship with him, forcing you to choose between your boyfriend and your best friend. And though you thought you loved Yanan, you were absolutely sure you loved Seungcheol too much to just throw away your friendship for a guy.

Coincidentally, Seungcheol started dating Sookyung around this time; you were happy for him—of course you were—but you weren’t immune to the little green monster’s poison that seeped through your veins. Just like Seungcheol had seen less and less of you when you were with Yanan, the two of you didn’t seem to have many moments to be alone anymore.

Sookyung was sweet, like, truly, genuinely the sweetest person you’d ever known. She was kind and beautiful and had long, brown tresses that swayed with her body when she moved. And most importantly? She made Seungcheol happy. When he introduced her to you, you wanted to find a reason, any reason, to dislike her, but she was flawless. When you swore like a sailor and sat with your legs wide open, she would cover her mouth when she laughed, her legs crossed like a proper lady.

You were one of the boys, and she was Seungcheol’s girl. Still, you clung onto the hope that maybe they’d break up, and maybe you would have your best friend back.

That never happened.

What did happen, though, was the worst day of your life—the day Seungcheol got on one knee and pulled out a sparkly diamond ring, the words, “Will you marry me?” sounding like a foreign language coming out of his mouth.

And lucky you, you got to be there for the supposedly joyous moment, but instead, your whole world had just shattered. Perhaps even worse than the proposal, worse than Sookyung saying “yes,” was when Seungcheol asked you to be his fiancée’s bridesmaid. What were you going to say? No?

And so you, being the infatuated fool that you were, agreed, saying the little word that was so simple, yet so devastating. “Yes,” you had told him. “Absolutely. I’ll do it. Anything for you.”

Anything.

To be fair, you thought maybe by then you’d be over him, dating someone else, someone who made you not just happy but happier. As if your life couldn’t fall apart any more than it already had, you were also heavily involved in the wedding planning process. Sookyung always asked you to help with this and that because she and Seungcheol “trusted your eye for design.” Curse your artistic gifts—you never thought they’d bite you in the ass like this. Yet, you obliged, going to cake tastings, helping Sookyung pick out linens, and lending a hand in arranging the florist and caterers. Hell, you were practically their wedding planner.

And what sealed your fate was the day you went wedding dress shopping with Sookyung. You wondered if maybe one day that would be you standing on the stage, mirrors and loved ones surrounding you while you evaluated the white gown on your body, clipped in the back to fit you.

She was stunning.

Stepping out of the fitting room with an ecstatic fitting assistant, Sookyung looked effortlessly beautiful in the lace gown, tulle draping down her sides in a stunning A-line silhouette. You were breathless looking at her, and you understood then, in that moment, why anyone loved her—why Seungcheol loved her. If this was the effect she had on you, you could only imagine how your best friend would feel seeing her walk down the aisle, and lucky you, you were going to be the one to bear witness to it all.

“Well,” Seungcheol spoke, grunting as he stood up to throw away your trash, “guess it’s time to go home.”

You looked at the clock. 11:48 PM. It had been a while since he had been over this late, and you hadn’t realized how much time passed in your daze.

“You should tell Sookyung to come over for dinner one of these days,” you proposed, though your words were a bit empty.

“Yeah.” There was a pause, as if he was searching for the right thing to say. “I will.”

He made his way to the sink, ready to wash the utensils, but you stopped him. “I’ll do them. Go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late.”

“Okay.”

You watched him put on his sneakers, that all-too-familiar view of his back haunting you. He let out a deep sigh as he stood up again, turning to look at you. There was a fond look in his eyes as he pressed his lips into a tight smile, causing a dimple to form in his cheek.

The thing about Seungcheol was that he hated goodbyes, and so he never said them to you. To him, goodbyes meant the end, and your friendship was forever. He was a firm believer in that stupid saying, “It’s not ‘goodbye,’ it’s ‘see you later,’” and as cheesy as it was, you obliged him, never saying “goodbye” to him either.

“I’ll call you,” he said before turning to go down the hall where the elevators were.

“Good, dickhead.”

He let out a hearty laugh. Regardless of how crude your words were, they brought a level of comfort to him. You waved at him until he was no longer in your sight.

Goodbye, Seungcheol.

———

“Are you going to take it?” Dahyun exclaimed, grasping your hand in both of hers.

“That’s if I pass the interview first,” you replied with nonchalance, taking a sip of your cosmo.

“Of course you’re going to pass the interview. You’re going to get it, dummy. No one deserves that job more than you.”

You hoped Dahyun was right. You had been with your marketing company for the past four years, and an opening for a manager position had become available. The only catch was that you’d have to move two hours outside of the city, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. With him out of sight, he’d certainly be out of mind, and quitting would become easier than it was now.

“You’re moving?” Vernon asked.

“Hi, Vern,” Dahyun said with a sly smile. You watched the bartender’s ears turn red as he nodded at her in return but turned his attention back to you. “Yes, she is.”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe,” you corrected her.

“Does this have anything to do with your friend?” he interrogated.

“No.”

Vernon shot you a pointed look.

“Maybe.” You chugged the remainder of the vodka in your glass, the alcohol burning your throat as it went down, warming your body from within.

The following morning, you packed your bags and threw them into the back of your shabby Honda Accord—though it was old, you could always trust it to get you where you needed to be. You had taken a few days off from work to go to this interview; you needed a break, and maybe a couple extra days would help you prepare for this interview and, most importantly, clear your mind from everything that was plaguing you.

It was only a three-day trip, but you were excited to get away and even potentially land this job—if not, maybe it was time for you to find a different company. Regardless of what happened, it was a much-needed break. In the days prior, you had made a sort of “breakup” playlist even though technically you and Seungcheol had never been together, but maybe blasting songs about how you deserved better would actually trick you into thinking such a thing.

You deserved to be someone’s first choice—not their second—and you kept telling yourself this during your drive, the road to your hotel seemingly never ending. You pulled up outside a large building; the company had paid for you to stay here, and you were thankful for it. Despite your current pay grade, you were still a bit of a cheapskate, and if it had been up to you, you’d have booked a cheaper place, but this wasn’t your money, so you didn’t care.

After you checked in, you were given a balcony room on the eighth floor with a view of the river. The floors were a clean, white tile, and it was a large, spacious room, one that was much too big for a single person, but again, it wasn’t your money, and you weren’t about to complain. You had a couple days before your interview, and despite being in a new city, all you really wanted to do was, well, nothing. You opened your maps app and looked for nearby restaurants and things to do—someone had recommended a walk by the river, and given your current view, it didn’t seem to be too far away. A long walk along the river sounded perfect.

It was the best decision you had made—even though the weather was below freezing, the walk was refreshing, and you realized that you hadn’t had much time to stretch your legs these days. Your job required you to be glued to your desk and chair nearly 24/7, and you couldn’t find it in you to make time to go to the gym.

Sometimes, life was better when you didn’t have a plan, so you decided just to walk wherever your legs would take you, only checking your phone in case someone texted or called you about the job. The frigid air bit the skin on your cheeks, which made you stuff your face deeper into your coat, your hands shoved into the depths of your pockets, but this was a pain you preferred to the other one you felt in your heart. Not many people were out right now; most people, you assumed, were staying warm in the comforts of their home instead of taking walks along the river in glacial temperatures.

When your legs began to grow sore and the muscles in your knees tightened, you decided that it was best for you to return to your hotel before you became too tired. The door unlocked after a melodic beep, and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, hoping the comforter would swallow you whole. The fabric was cool against your face as you stared blankly at the wall pondering your life—how did you get here, being hopelessly in love with your best friend? What would have happened if you had just told him no? If you had just quit him early on? Maybe you would have been much happier than you were now instead of running away from your problems.

Hunger prevailed as your stomach growled; the prior walk had taken too much out of you that you decided you would just go down to the convenience store right outside the hotel and grab some ramen and maybe a couple cans of beer. A smart person wouldn’t have been so lazy and would have explored the area that they might be moving to, but a smart person also wouldn’t have been in love with their best friend or agreed to be his wife’s bridesmaid or secretly wish for him to divorce said wife.

But hey, you weren’t a genius. Nor were you a saint. You knew this, yet you still hated yourself for feeling this way, but at the same time, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of your feelings for Seungcheol.

You shook your head.

No.

You wouldn’t think of him while you were gone. Out of sight, out of mind. That was how the saying went, right?

Closing your eyes, you let the harsh hotel light seep through your eyelids. Just then, your brief moment of peace was disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing.

Speak of the fucking devil.

You unlocked your phone and sat up.

“Hey,” you said, trying your best to sound enthusiastic.

Cheollie wants to turn on video.

Accept?

Accept.

“Where are you? You home?”

“No, I’m… out of town.”

“For what?”

“Business meeting.” Obviously, that was a lie. You were interviewing for the manager position, and if you got it, you’d be moving out here for the foreseeable future. He didn’t have to know that, though.

“Oh. Nearby?”

“Ish?”

“Give me a room tour.”

“Okay.”

You flipped the camera around and showed him the room the company had booked for you—a Premium Deluxe Queen Suite with a Balcony and View of the River. It was pretty fucking nice and you were thankful your boss was onboard with letting you come for four days instead of two.

“Damn, luxury living,” Seungcheol drawled out.

“I know, isn’t this shit nice?”

“For a meeting? When did they start rolling in money?”

“Gotta thank those angel investors for believing in us.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Cheol. What are you? My mother?” Your voice was starting to sound defensive, even you knew this, but you couldn’t help it.

“You’re not eating ramen and beer are you?”

You paused, eyeing the cups and cans on your bedside table. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“What’s the address of the hotel you’re staying at?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna order you delivery.”

“I’m fine—”

“Address. Now.” You groaned and sent him your location over messages. “Room number?”

“808.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not getting delivery now, are you? I’m about to eat.”

“No, but expect it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Tomorrow came when you opened your eyes, the sunlight barely able to come through those blackout curtains of the hotel. Propping yourself up, you checked your phone.

Have a good conference :)

It was actually irritating how supportive Seungcheol was, but you guessed that’s what best friends were supposed to do. Be supportive and not fall in love with each other. Maybe you should take note of that.

You murmured self-affirmations to yourself as you craned your neck towards the mirror, pulling the mascara wand up and away from your lashes to give them some length and volume. To pull your look together, you picked your favorite lip tint, a classy and chic mauve that looked natural but put together.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your grey blazer and matching trousers and slipped your feet into your black block heels—you were going to make today your bitch.

Your interview process was split into two sessions throughout the day: a group session in the morning and a solo interview in the afternoon. Despite your nerves and anxiety, when you arrived at the conference rooms of the building, a sudden burst of confidence surged through your veins, invigorating your spirit with such electricity that you nearly blacked out from the adrenaline rush.

To say that you thought the day went well would be an understatement, and what better way to celebrate a good day than with some ramen and beer. The bell above the 7-Eleven door chimed as you nearly slammed it against the wall from excitement, whistling while your eyes scanned the various types of alcohol on display in the cooler.

Cass, Heineken, Corona, BudLight, Hite, soju, makgeolli, sake, red wine, white wine.

Hmm. Rosé seemed good. Maybe that and… peach soju, and… a Cass beer. It was a recipe for disaster, but you had two full days to recover before you had to head back to the city anyway. And you couldn’t drink on an empty stomach, so you grabbed several triangle kimbaps from the counter and threw them in your basket as well.

Yeah, this was good, you thought to yourself, already feeling drunk on the thought of what the future would bring despite not having had a single sip of your alcohol yet.

When you returned to your hotel, you turned the shower on, steam fogging up the glass immediately. You would have a relaxing shower and let your drinks cool a bit before spending the night drinking and watching whatever movies the hotel had to offer on the TV.

The hot water warmed your skin and soothed your muscles; they had been aching all day, but you hadn’t noticed the pain in all your elation. The shampoo and conditioner smelled of jasmine, tangerines, and eucalyptus, which only alleviated your senses further.

After your shower, you threw on the gratuitous robe the hotel offered, wrapped your hair up in your towel, and put the slippers—also complimentary— on to live your best, luxurious life. In all the buzz and enthusiasm, you had completely forgotten about Seungcheol’s promise of ordering delivery, that was, until you got another text from him.

How do you feel about steak tacos?

i’m more of a carnitas gal

Done.

Within the hour, there was a knock on the door—presumably your delivery—but to your surprise, your best friend (whom, mind you, you were trying to quit) was standing outside your hotel door, two plastic bags lifted above his head as he barged into your room without another word.

“I thought you were ordering delivery,” you inquired, pulling the robe over your chest. You tried your best to hide the fact that you were completely naked underneath the white fabric, covertly grabbing your pajamas and underwear from the bed before sneaking into the bathroom to change. Fortunately, he had his back to you while he unpacked the food.

“I am the delivery,” he replied cheekily. God, you hated him right now, but the smell of those tacos were more enticing than your supposed hatred for your best friend.

“What are you doing here?” You stepped out, hands hurriedly drying your hair with your towel, though really you were hiding your anxiety.

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my best friend?”

“I’m just…” you paused, contemplating the right words to say. Devastated? Upset? Shocked? What word could really capture the way you were feeling right then and there? “…surprised to see you.”

“Good, my plan worked,” he said, placing the bags on the spare space of the marble counter in your room. Pulling out the food, as well as several cans of beer, he looked at you with accomplishment. “Carnitas for the lady, steak for me.”

For the lady. In an alternate universe, ‘lady’ would imply that you were his lady, not just some word that wrung your heart dry like a towel. How in the world were you supposed to get over him when he was doing shit like this? Even then, you didn’t have the heart to turn him away, let alone be honest about the way he made you feel.

No.

He could never know.

It was better for everyone that your secret stayed exactly that—a secret. Sure, maybe Vernon and Dahyun knew, but that was enough because you knew that they weren’t children who would spread something like that without your permission.

“Dig in,” Seungcheol said, his eyes watching you with anticipation.

Eagerly, you picked up the taco, the aroma quickly filling your hotel room. The warmth of the tortilla and crispy pork was delicious as it melted in your mouth, contrasted by the cool, crunchy texture of the pico de gallo. Everything about this moment was perfect, again, minus the fact that the man you were in love with was married, the silver ring on his left hand glistening under the luminous hotel lights.

Sitting on your bed with him now reminded you of the days before your lives got complicated, the days when you would spend just about every waking moment together. Especially after your father passed away, Seungcheol would always take care of you, unwrapping your triangle kimbaps and poking straws through the aluminum lid of banana milks. Back then, the only thing you two were really worried about was if you had enough crumpled bills in the pockets of your uniforms for snacks after school. You didn’t know what love was or what it felt like to be consumed by a poisonous jealousy that would eat away at your soul for years on end.

Back then, things were simple.

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled out as you took a bite of your next taco. “Be careful, you’re going to get oil on the bed sheets, and then they’ll charge you extra.”

“You act like I can’t afford to pay for an extra dry cleaning service.”

“That’s not the point,” he nagged. He always nagged. Always. Whether it was about making sure you had your homework and pencils, or about the way you ate, he was always nagging. But a part of you liked it since you knew he only did it because he cared.

Would he always care about you this way? It wasn’t a complex question, but the answer wasn’t so simple. What would happen when he left? Not just the hotel, but your life? When he and Sookyung would announce that they’re having their first child? Or their second? Third? Would he still make sure you were wiping your mouth? Would he still open triangle kimbap for you? Make sure all your banana milks had a straw through the lid?

“Are you happy?”

You were in the middle of a bite when his question threw you off guard; were you?

Even if you were breaking from the inside out, even if you were suffering through one of the most painful heartbreaks in your life, he could never know that you were unhappy nor that he was the cause of it. “Yeah,” you lied with confidence. “I am. Are you?”

He was staring out the window at the river as if the moonlight glistening on the water had hypnotized him.

“Cheol?”

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. I want you to be happy,” you told him. It was true—you wanted him to be happy, but you also wanted to be the reason for his happiness.

“I want you to be happy, too,” he said with a sad smile. You could tell he had something on his mind, but if you asked, then he would tell you what was bothering him, and that would only make it harder for you to push him away.

After you had finished eating, Seungcheol took it upon himself to clean up (which only made the aching in your heart worse). He plopped down onto the bed where you were laying, your eyes fixated on the bright light fixture in the ceiling.

The two of you didn’t talk about anything of importance that night—instead, you recounted high school memories, complained about annoying coworkers, and gushed about the ending of that drama you had been watching. Despite the cans of beer that Seungcheol had brought sitting out on your vanity, they remained completely untouched for the most part (Seungcheol drank a couple and you stole a few sips of his) since he had to leave soon anyway.

Or so you thought.

Your conversations lasted hours, and before you knew it, you had passed out. The sunlight trickled into your hotel room as your eyes fluttered open to adjust to the brightness. When you adjusted your position in the bed, you felt something strange and firm under your neck—

Oh no.

This was bad. Very, very, extremely, terribly, horribly bad. Seungcheol was next to you with his arm under your head. You were sure that nothing had happened last night—you were both fully clothed—but even if you didn’t sleep together, sleeping together wasn’t a good look either, especially if someone were to walk in on you like this. It wasn’t like you could easily provide excuses as to why you were so close to your friend who, mind you, was in a happy marriage with a woman whom he loved very much (and wasn’t you).

Slowly, you rolled out of bed, cautious as to not disturb the sleeping lion next to you.

Even though it was your day off, you had to get out of there because the longer you stayed, the chances of you doing something you’d regret for the rest of your life increased tenfold. All you needed was your wallet which was… right next to Seungcheol on the bedside table. Great.

Your footsteps were soft against the tiled floor, your socks doing a good job of dampening each step. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were projecting some kind of fantasy onto him, but even while he was asleep, he seemed happier than he had been those other times you had seen him.

Seungcheol had insomnia, but seeing him sleep so peacefully like this, his long lashes flush against his skin, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly with each exhale, his lips that you wish you could taste, just this once—

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. He wasn’t yours in a capacity that would allow you to entertain such thoughts. Yet, maybe you would just look…

His eyes fluttered open and now you were really fucked, your face only centimeters away from his. The silence of your room drowned out your thoughts and you stood up quickly.

“Um, morning. I’m just heading out. I have another meeting with a client,” you lied. It was Saturday, but for all he knew, this could be a conference, and you were fortunate that Seungcheol had absolutely zero knowledge of the industry because you’d be more screwed than you already were. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll see you.”

Turning on your heels, you tried to walk away as quickly as possible, but you were stopped by the feeling of his hand grabbing onto yours.

“Were you about to…”

Right then and there, the blood drained from your face and your limbs went numb.

There was nothing more that you wanted than to disappear off the face of the earth, yet why was it that you were thinking about how good it felt to hold his rough hands?

“I’ll see you later,” you blurted out, yanking your hand from his and leaving the room without looking back. Not even once.

———

“Cheers!” The shouting of your coworkers and best friends were somehow able to drown out the pounding bass of the dive bar. Vernon had offered you and Dahyun free shots for the night, but since you were moving first thing in the morning, limiting yourself to a happy buzz was the farthest you would go tonight.

“I am so proud of you,” Dahyun exclaimed, planting a kiss on your cheek. This was her drunk habit—kissing her best friend and getting extremely touchy, though you didn’t mind. She was cute, giggly, and of course, more bold when she drank. You wouldn’t be surprised if somehow she managed to go home with Vernon tonight with the amount of courage she now had in her system—about time, too. They were cute and you had been trying to get them together for a while now. Any success they had, they’d have to owe it all to you.

“Thanks, boo,” you replied, the pet name coming out with ease as the alcohol swirled in your body.

“Let’s dance!” She slammed her glass against the counter (this caused Vernon to wince at the idea of his precious crystalline being smashed into pieces) and was quick to grab your hand, dragging you out to the dance floor where you weaved through warm bodies moving drunkenly to the music. Under the strobing red, blue, and green lights, you let the music and the alcohol take control of your body—for once, it felt nice to let loose and feel all your worries dissipate into the night.

On the walk home, your head buzzed from the drinks, and for the first time in a while, you were excited at the prospect of your future. Perhaps things would work out after all. As you neared your apartment, a familiar man stood outside kicking at the ground.

“Cheol?”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice was sullen.

“Tell you what?” In reality, you knew exactly what he was asking about, though you thought maybe by playing dumb, somehow that would prolong your encounter with reality, a reality that didn’t involve Seungcheol.

He furrowed his eyebrows. You hated the way he looked at you. “That you got a new job?”

A lump formed in your throat. Suddenly, it was hard to swallow. All the happiness you felt just thirty minutes ago disappeared in the blink of an eye. You thought maybe you could get away scot-free and disappear from his life quietly, but with him standing here in front of you like this, it was becoming clear that you had to face your reality.

As you searched for something, anything, to say, Seungcheol began tapping his foot against the pavement, impatient for an answer. When you didn’t respond, he scoffed. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are—”

“So, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to—”

“When? Huh? After you moved?”

“What?”

“You’re moving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

How did he know that?

“Seungcheol—”

“I can’t believe you. You are so ridiculous.”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. It didn’t matter that he was right, that you were ridiculous—hearing that from him only annoyed you.

“Well, now you know,” you responded, your tone dry and uncaring.

The incredulous laugh he let out stung and made your heart ache. “Yeah, and I had to find out from everyone except you. You know, you’re the one person I thought I could trust. I thought you trusted me.”

I do, you wanted to tell him.

“You’ve been weird since that weekend,” he said, changing the subject. How could you not feel weird when you almost found yourself kissing your married best friend? If loving a taken man was a line you weren’t supposed to cross, then almost kissing him would send you straight to hell. Worse yet, you didn’t think he would notice.

But of course he did. He was your best friend after all, and for all the moments he could be dense as fuck, he knew you like the back of his hand—or, at least he thought he did. Despite his best efforts to decipher your words and actions lately, it seemed that every conclusion he came to was dead wrong. Even now, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, your poker face doing a good job of hiding how you truly felt inside.

“I’ve just been busy,” you tried to defend yourself.

“No. You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not—”

“What aren’t you telling me? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

You kind of were, but mostly you were mad at yourself. So much could have been avoided if you had confessed your feelings to Seungcheol in university when you had the chance. Foolishly, you allowed yourself to believe that your feelings for him were fleeting, a passing moment that would come and go like the seasons. Your love had no expiration date, you’d find out later.

“No…”

“Then what is it? Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you answer my questions?”

Something in you snapped, your eyes went red, and suddenly you were shouting at the man you had loved for most of your life. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I can’t answer your questions. I don’t know why I’m acting this way. What I do know is that I want you to leave me alone.”

“No.” His voice was firm like the grasp he had on your arms, his fingers constricting around your skin. “Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I don’t fucking know!” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you tried your hardest to hold them back, your eyes looking at the ground to avoid the inevitable onslaught of emotion that would happen if you looked at him.

“Yes you do! Look at me,” he said, shaking you.

“Fine! I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I’m a fucking idiot who’s stupidly in love with you, and I can’t stand that I’ve been doing this for so long now, and I just want to get away from it all. I just want to get away from you.”

Seungcheol’s face loosened as he slowly processed your words, his brain a jumbled mess. He eased his grip on you, making it easy for you to shake him off as you two stood there awkwardly. You turned away from him, wiping the tears that were now streaming down your face.

You took a step back. “I think it’s best you don’t call me. In fact, I think we shouldn’t see each other ever again. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”

And without looking back, you turned your back on him, an ache boring through your soul as you walked inside your building.

———

The past year flew by—you had settled nicely into your job as the manager for your marketing and design firm, and your new team seemed to love you already. You had an assistant, Chan, to help schedule your meetings—something you weren’t used to—but you did enjoy the convenience that came with having him there.

Your fingers clacked away at your keyboard as you were preparing a presentation for a big client when a knocking on your door snapped you out of your zone. “Come in,” you blurted.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Chan said, peeking his head through the doorframe.

“Do I have a meeting scheduled right now? I thought I was free until the afternoon,” you replied, not looking up from your monitor.

“Nothing’s on the schedule as far as I know.”

“Okay. Let them in.” Chan nodded and opened the door, letting the guest in.

The moment you caught a glimpse of her face, you shot up from your seat. You recognized her bright eyes and high cheekbones, the way her long black hair framed her face perfectly, and the sheer elegance she exuded no matter where she went. There was only one thing that was different: her belly.

Everything about her had remained the same except now her hands were holding her stomach.

She was hesitant to come in further, and upon seeing the shock on your face, she wondered if being here was as good of an idea as she had intended. “Hi,” she said, her voice awkward like she was a teenager entering her first day of school.

“Sookyung?” You stood up immediately, rounding the corner of your desk.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she spoke.

“Yeah… it has been…” You didn’t realize you were still staring at her baby bump until your office fell dead silent, the only sounds coming from your mini-fridge and your desk fan that you kept on while you worked. “Please,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. “Sit down.”

She must have been pretty far along given the size of her belly and the noise she made when she sat on the leather cushion, relieved to be off her feet.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“I wouldn’t mind a little tea,” she replied sheepishly.

“Is jasmine okay?”

She nodded.

As you prepared the hot water, you kept your back to her, your brain running through every possible scenario as to why she was here. Yet, despite your desperate attempt to plan how you would approach this, you weren’t ready for what she was about to tell you.

When the water finished boiling, you poured it into the mugs you only pulled out for your VIP clients. “Be careful,” you warned her. “It’s hot.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the mug into her hands.

“So… what… are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Sookyung just stared into her mug, contemplating how to explain herself.

“Sorry,” you blurted. “I… I’m just surprised to see you. How… how are you doing?”

She looked up finally and met you with a hesitant smile. “Seungcheol told me you got a new job here, and I have a friend who works here as well–but I’m good. I’ve never been better actually.” Your eyes fell upon her belly again.

“How far along are you?”

“Six and a half months.”

“Wow, Soo, congratulations! You and Seungcheol must be so happy!”

Her face dropped at your mention of his name.

“Actually, that’s why I came to see you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What do you mean?”

“We… got divorced.”

“You what?”

“You guys what?” Your eyes fell on her hands, a ring decorating her left finger. “But your—”

“It was a long time coming,” she chuckled softly. “This is from someone else.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘It was a long time coming’? You guys were fine.”

“Is that what it seemed like?”

It was. But you also couldn’t remember the last time Seungcheol had talked about his married life with Sookyung.

“We fought a lot,” she continued. “Like, a lot.”

“Soo, I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she offered, yet an abrupt wave of guilt washed over you. “Do you remember our wedding day?”

You nodded.

———

Of course you remembered their wedding day—who could forget the way Seungcheol looked at you when you arrived after telling him you wouldn’t make it? The two of you had gotten into a nasty fight just weeks prior when you had asked him if he was sure jumping into marriage was the right choice.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he had said. In all your years of friendship, you had never gotten into a fight as bad as this one, but neither of you would back down because of your pride.

“You’ve barely been together for a year, and suddenly you’re engaged and getting married? It doesn’t make sense!”

“No, you’re just sad, and lonely, and bitter because everyone you date ends up dumping you because you can’t give them what they want.”

“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yeah. You are.” He wasn’t. He was completely right, because you could never fully give yourself to anyone. Your heart belonged to one person, and one person only: him. But you couldn’t tell him that.

“If you’re going to be like this, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t even think about showing up to the wedding.”

You swore your heart dropped to the floor. You knew you should have turned around and apologized, but you let your stubbornness get the best of you as you slammed his door behind you.

Neither of you meant any of the things you had said, but it didn’t reverse the damage that had already been done. You had practically been uninvited to your best friend’s wedding, and upon hearing what had happened, Sookyung was the one to reach out and tell you that she really wanted you there. You had tried to tell her that you were uninvited, but she reminded you that this was her wedding, too, but you held your line. And you were almost able to get away with it had it not been for Seungkwan begging you to drive him to the wedding hall after Soonyoung had woken up late.

None of your other friends had known about the fight, and you fully intended on dropping him off and leaving until he dragged you inside. You had missed the ceremony, but the reception was in full force, the other guests mixing and mingling with drinks in hand.

“Seungkwan—” his voice echoed through the hallway, stopping when he saw you.

“Seungcheol, congratulations!” Seungkwan exclaimed, approaching his friend with a big hug. “Now, where’s Sookyung?”

“She’s… in the other room,” Seungcheol’s voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on you instead. He had always been an open book, his emotions written all over his face, but that day, you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind.

“Great, I gotta go see her.” And with that, Seungkwan was gone, leaving the two of you alone.

“Um, hey,” you said.

“Hey.”

“C-congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

The silence was so much louder than the hooting and hollering of the guests in the reception hall.

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry for—”

You paused and looked at him. Clearing your throat, you asserted yourself. “I’m sorry for what happened a few weeks ago. I was being too overprotective of you when I should have just trusted you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said that night. I just—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” you told him, wrapping him in your arms. “I want you to know that I’m happy for you, Cheol. I really am. You’re my best friend and you deserve to be the happiest.”

He returned your embrace. “You’re my best friend, too. I couldn’t ever stand to lose you. You deserve to be the happiest, too.”

“I am,” you had said, and though that was a lie, maybe it would be true one day.

———

“I’m not following, Soo. What does your wedding day have to do with your divorce?” Your throat suddenly felt like it was constricting, depriving you of the oxygen you needed to live.

“Our wedding day… it was a mistake.” Despite everything that had happened, she still managed to smile. If you were her, you weren’t sure you could do the same. But she wasn’t you—she was Shim Sookyung, the girl everyone loved because she was just that kind and lovely.

“There’s no way. You guys are perfect for each other!” Despite that deep-seated desire in your heart that you once harbored for Seungcheol to be yours, this new reality somehow didn’t seem any better. Sure, your best friend was single now, but why was it starting to feel like all of this was your fault?

Sookyung let out a chuckle. “You guys are too similar. Seungcheol said the same thing when I asked for the divorce.”

“Soo, I’m confused. What’s going on?”

“I’ve known for a long time that we weren’t going to work. I knew that Seungcheol’s heart didn’t belong to me, but mine didn’t belong to him either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… fell in love with someone else. A long time ago. His name is Youngbin. During university, he had graduated and moved away, and I thought I would never see him again. And so I started dating Seungcheol to cope with my heartbreak. I didn’t think it would last long, but a selfish part of me wanted to hold onto him because maybe, just maybe, if I was with him long enough, I’d forget about Youngbin. But just before the wedding, Youngbin moved back and he reached out to me. He asked me to run away with him, but I told him no, I was in love with Seungcheol. We had gone through so much trouble to plan the wedding and invite everyone, I couldn’t just call it off. But I should have. I was a coward.”

“Soo…”

“I know, I’m pathetic,” she admitted. “In the beginning, things were fine. I thought, ‘Maybe I could see myself with Seungcheol for the rest of my life,’ but things turned for the worse quickly. We fought a lot over the smallest things, started sleeping in different rooms, and I was living with a man I didn’t know anymore. And you know Cheol, he never backs down.”

You nodded. You did know that, and you knew that well.

“I tried, I really tried to tell myself that this was the right decision—that he was the right decision—but ultimately, I knew the answer. We both did. It was clear from the beginning, but he was too prideful and I was too selfish to admit it.”

“So, then what about…” your voice trailed off, but your eyes pointed to her baby bump.

“Oh, it’s not Cheol’s, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she laughed. You wondered how even through all of this, she could be so calm and nonchalant. Sure, she had been nervous coming into your office, but now that she could get all of this off her chest, relief washed over her. “Youngbin and I,” she continued, now holding her belly. “We’re getting married.”

Your eyes widened and you swore you nearly dropped your mug (which, mind you, was still full of piping hot water). “Oh my god, Sookyung! That’s,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “amazing!”

“Thank you,” she smiled at you. “But this isn’t what I came here to tell you.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled with confusion. What else could she possibly tell you after dropping the bomb that she and Seungcheol were divorced and she was pregnant with another man’s baby?

“Seungcheol and I,” she continued. “We’re on good terms. He congratulated me on my engagement and the baby. I guess I just want you to know that we’re on good terms. I don’t have anything against you or Cheol. I love you guys, and I always will.”

If not for the sound of your team hustling and bustling outside, perhaps you could have heard your heart shattering.

“Soo, what are you trying to get at?”

“I think you guys should be together.”

“No.” The answer flew out of your mouth before you even had time to fully process what she was trying to tell you. “No, I couldn’t. I can’t do that to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to me. If anything, you’d be doing me a favor because then I can stop worrying about you both.”

“Worry about us? That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense is Seungcheol and I spending four years of our lives denying our hearts and trying to find the answers in each other when they were never there in the first place. You may not see it, but he loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t. You should have seen us the day before I left. He was so upset with me. We’re not friends anymore, Soo.”

“You should have seen him when he came home that night. He was heartbroken. You’re his best friend—”

“Was his best friend.”

“No, you still are. Listen to me,” she said, reaching across the table to grab your hands. “You still are his best friend. I don’t know what was said that night, but nothing will ever change that fact.”

“Sookyung—”

“Listen to me. Trust me, if not yourself. You guys really are too similar,” she laughed again. “You should talk to him. Figure out your stuff. Be happy. With each other.”

You could only shake your head. How could she possibly know how Seungcheol felt about you? If you were him, you’d never want to see you again after what happened that night. Imagine the heartbreak he felt when you, his best friend, didn’t tell him the biggest news of your life. On top of that, you had confessed your long-time love for him and declared you never wanted to see him ever again. At this point, did you even deserve happiness?

Why would he want to see you, let alone talk to you?

“I don’t know if there’s hope for us anymore.”

“How would you know if you never ask him? God,” she huffed teasingly, “you two really are similar, and I hate you both for it.”

“We are not!”

The cackle that came out of her mouth was almost insulting. “He literally said the same thing to me. Just trust me and talk to him. Please. It’s the least you could do for me.”

“Soo, please,” you groaned. You couldn’t believe she was pulling this card on you as if you hadn’t just ruined her marriage and been the cause of her divorce.

“What’s stopping you?”

“This is all my fault—”

“It’s all of our faults,” she assured you with a squeeze of your hands. The laughter that fell from her lips was as charming as ever. “We’re all idiots.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “We are, aren’t we?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

Sighing, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to her. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

She stood up from her seat on your couch, releasing your hands. “I should probably get going. Bin is waiting for me downstairs.”

You watched as she wobbled to the door. “Soo?” She turned around, surprised when you wrapped her in your arms. “Thank you.”

“Let’s all be happy, okay?”

“Okay.”

———

Hey… can we talk?

Your fingers hovered over the ‘Send’ button before finding the backspace, the letters you had written gone in a blink. Since Sookyung’s visit, you had promised her you’d talk to Seungcheol, but every time you went to message him, you chickened out.

It was only four simple words, but doubt overcame your best intentions. What if he didn’t want to talk to you? What if he was seeing someone else? What if that only made things worse? But then again, how bad could it get at that point? It’s not like you had much to lose anymore, but the mere prospect of making his loss in your life more permanent made your heart ache.

Hot oil splattered against your skin, a miniscule moment of pain for delicious, grilled pork belly with pepper paste wrapped in cool, crisp lettuce. Your team had just landed a VIP client and it was all thanks to your hard work in gaining their trust. You were happy seeing your team’s bright, smiling faces, excited to do a job they were passionate about, and in theory, you were happy about the job, too. You wanted to be laughing and celebrating with them, but your mind kept looping back to Sookyung’s words.

You still are his best friend.

Be happy. With each other.

Taeyang, your lead designer, put a glass of beer in front of you, a shot glass of soju sitting atop a pair of chopsticks. “Drink up, chief,” he said cheekily.

You smiled at him, thankful at his gesture. You slammed the table with your fists and watched the smaller glass fall to the bottom of the larger, bubbles forming as the alcohol reacted with each other, your coworker whooping and cheering as you chugged the soju bomb.

Tonight, you wanted to be able to celebrate your wins with your team rather than moping over a message to send Seungcheol, so you locked your phone and put it on ‘Do not Disturb’ as you enjoyed the grilled meat and the company of your team. Your message to him would be a matter for tomorrow.

Maybe.

By the time dinner ended, you had drank enough to have a good time and you truly had forgotten about Seungcheol. You were happy, giggly even, and hiccuping as you sent off your team one-by-one in their taxis. Fortunately, your new apartment was only a seven-minute walk from the restaurant. You waved goodbye to your colleagues before taking off towards your home.

The frigid night air was refreshing against your warm skin, and you felt yourself sobering up with every step you took. Now, all you needed was a shower and to get snuggled up under your warm comforter.

The light from the lobby of your apartment grew brighter as you got closer, but you noticed someone standing just outside the doors. You squinted to see who it was, maybe your neighbor Joshua who had forgotten his keys in his apartment again. But as your vision cleared, you recognized him immediately—how could you not know his shoulders, his hair, that favorite red puffer jacket of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets?

You were dreaming. You had to be, because why would he be here? Right? It didn’t make sense. Before you could scrutinize him any further, he turned around, a bit shocked to see you despite that being the reason he was here. In front of your apartment.

“Seungcheol?” Though a year had passed since you last saw him, his grip on your heart never loosened and you could hear it pounding in your ears.

“Um, hi,” he sniffled, his nose rosy and his breath visible from the cold air.

“What are you… how did you find my apartment?”

“Dahyun told me,” he confessed. Damn it, you couldn’t trust that girl to keep information to herself, could you?

“I… Why are you here?” Twice in one week you had asked two separate people that question, but you really didn’t understand why this was happening, and now of all times.

“Can we talk?” The words you had struggled with for the past week seemed so effortless coming from him. Little did you know that he only came here on impulse because he found himself having a hard time sending you a text as well.

“Um, yeah.” You motioned for him to follow you upstairs. The elevator ride up was quiet, which was now becoming more common for you two than not. It was strange, this new apartment of yours. For so long, Seungcheol had grown used to your old apartment, the one he knew almost as well as he knew you, but this one was uncharted territory for him. Even the elevator and lock outside your door were different. Never in his life had he felt so distant from you, and he hated every part of it.

When you entered your apartment, you haphazardly kicked off your shoes, still a bit drunk from earlier. He took his shoes off, too, arranging his and yours neatly by the door before stepping into your home. You went into the kitchen and turned the stove on, putting water into the kettle for tea.

“You can sit down,” you told him as you ripped the tea bags open.

He sat down on your couch—it was stiff and much newer than the one you’d previously had. Less broken in, he guessed. In fact, everything in your apartment was new and modern in contrast to the items you had bought second-hand at your last place. His mind wandered as you lingered in the kitchen, afraid to turn around and confront the reality that your best friend (well, ex-best friend) was sitting in your home at that very moment.

Did you ever bring other people here?

Did they know your apartment the way he knew your old one? Jealousy seeped within his veins at the idea that that was even possible.

Once the water was finished boiling, you poured it into two mugs with chamomile tea bags, the smell wafting gently into your nose. With a deep breath, you took the cups into the living room and set them down in front of him as you sat down on the chair adjacent to him.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” you said, your voice cracking slightly. Awkwardly, you stood up to open the window. Granted, with it being winter, you hadn’t opened the window for several months, so it was difficult getting it to budge now.

“Here, let me help.” Before you knew it, you felt the warmth of his body behind you. With his strength, the window opened easily, but even with the winter air coming in, the tension didn’t go down.

You both sat down again and you took your mug into your hands. It was still too hot for you to be holding it, but the heat on your palms gave you something to think about other than what possible thing Seungcheol could say to you.

“So…” you began, “how are you?”

“How have you been?”

You smiled awkwardly at each other, your grip on your mug tightening as a reflex.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Tired.” The longer you sat there, the more you started to feel the alcohol take its final toll on you, your eyes growing heavier with every passing second. Seungcheol noticed, too. Deciding it was probably best he tabled this discussion for tomorrow when you were in your right mind, he stood up.

“I think you should get some sleep instead.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you weren’t sure what was really going on anymore.

“Yeah, we can talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” His voice was soft, and even in your tipsy, sleepy state, it was comforting.

You stood up to see him out the door, but your knees buckled from under you. Seungcheol caught you in time before you fell to the ground, helping you up. He should probably make sure you get to bed without hurting yourself before he left.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.

Pointing to the closed door in the northwest corner of your living room, he led you inside and let you sit on the bed as he opened your closet, looking for pajamas for you to change into. When he opened a drawer, his heart ached—he immediately recognized a small graphic tee that peeked out from the bottom. That was his t-shirt. One that you had borrowed one time in high school when you were repainting your childhood bedroom and then claimed you “lost.” He had gotten so mad at you that he ignored you for five days until you came knocking on his door with various sweets you had baked yourself as a peace offering. It was then that he realized he could never be mad at you for too long. And it was then that he realized he wanted you to be in his life forever.

He pulled the shirt out along with a pair of pajama pants and dropped it into your lap.

“Can you get changed on your own?” he asked.

You nodded your head, the weight threatening to throw you forward. Seungcheol propped you up instead, helping you stand on your feet.

“Yeah. But don’t look,” you mumbled, pouting.

It was probably inappropriate to be thinking this way, but Seungcheol found you cute when you made that face, your eyebrows furrowed, your nose crinkled, and your bottom lip jutting out as far as it could go. It was the same face you used to make as a child when things wouldn’t go your way.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I won’t,” he assured you, turning around first just to be sure. He stood in silence, the sound of the fabric against your skin mixed with your subdued grunts filling the room as you tried to change your clothes in your drunken state. He knew he shouldn’t but he was slightly curious, so, Seungcheol, being the nosy guy he was, he turned around to peek at you.

You had somehow managed to put your head through a sleeve, your right arm moving freely in the head hole as you struggled to pull the fabric over your head. Seungcheol had to stifle his laughter as he watched your fight with the article of clothing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” you confessed.

“Do you want some help?”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Here, let me help you,” he said, closing the gap between you two. For the first time in all your years of friendship, Seungcheol had never been so close to you in such an… intimate manner. He pulled the fabric up revealing your bare back; chills ran down his spine and he suddenly felt awkward. Adjusting the shirt so your head and your arms went through the proper openings, he pulled the shirt down quickly. “There.” Why was his face so warm?

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Sure.” Moving quickly, he untucked the comforter from under the mattress and sat down on the side of your bed, tapping the spot for you to lay down. You gave way to gravity and fell with a soft thud, your head barely missing the pillow. It took a bit of rearranging, but Seungcheol was able to get you to lay properly; when he was satisfied with his work, he covered your body with the blanket, tucking you in.

With your eyes closed and your breathing quiet, you looked so peaceful like this. Seungcheol tucked a stray hair behind your ear. He had done a lot of reflecting this past year, and as much as he wished he had gained some kind of clarity, instead all he got was a rollercoaster of emotions. He spiraled into a blackhole of ‘what-ifs,’ wondering if things would have been different now if he had just confessed to you before Yanan did, or if he had listened to you that day you asked him if he was sure about his marriage.

“I hate you,” you muttered. The three little words pierced his chest, but he knew that he at least deserved that much. He hated himself, too.

“I know,” he whispered under his breath.

“I… was supposed to… quit… you…” Even in your unconscious state, you stumbled over your words as they fell clumsily from your mouth.

“What do you mean?” he asked, not expecting a response.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Okay, then I’ll leave.”

“No,” you blurted, grabbing onto the back of his shirt. “Stay.”

Your eyes were still closed, but your eyebrows were furrowed, lips pouting again.

“You said I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Don’t go.”

The wall you had built around your heart suddenly came crumbling down, and this was the first show of vulnerability he had seen from you in a long time. Hearing the cracks in your voice, Seungcheol relived that sadness he felt that day you told him ‘goodbye.’ It was a painful memory, and he never wanted to believe you meant it, but your actions said otherwise.

But here you were, laying so quietly in front of him, calmer than that night, your grip on him pretty strong for someone who was inebriated and half-asleep. You weren’t sure what possessed you in that moment—perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the fear that if he walked out now, you might never see him again.

Somehow, that one small movement made his breath hitch, his heart palpitating with such force that he was afraid you might hear it in the silence.

“I won’t go.”

And he didn’t. He stayed with you the entire night, using a spare pillow from the couch in the living room to lay on the floor.

———

Last night, no, the entirety of this past week had felt like a fever dream. From Sookyung to…

Seungcheol.

You shot up in your bed, your head throbbing from the alcohol—you rubbed your eyes of the crust that had formed overnight, and it took a minute for your vision to clear up before you could see anything. Was he really here last night? Did he leave? Did you imagine that he slept there? There was a pillow from the living room and the spare blanket you had gotten for guests which you most certainly didn’t remember getting yourself, but nobody was there.

Slowly but surely, you got out of bed and slid your feet into your plush slippers, your toes curling against the soft fabric. Opening the door to the rest of your apartment, it was dead silent, but the smell of grease was first to greet your senses. Upon closer inspection, the table had a bowl of rice and to its side, a plate of fried spam and scrambled eggs. There was even a small plate of kimchi, your favorite thing to eat after a heavy night of drinking.

Your attention was caught by the slight snoring coming from the couch behind you; Seungcheol was laying on his side, drool coming from his slightly opened mouth. It was hard to stifle your laughter, but you didn’t want to wake him—with his insomnia, you wanted to make sure he got every second of sleep he could possibly get.

What you really needed, though, was a cup of coffee. Figuring the large guy on your couch could use one, too, you perched onto your toes to grab your nicer mugs from the top shelf. These days, you had resorted to instant coffee mix in tiny paper cups you had stolen from work. Why you did this, you weren’t quite sure yourself. Maybe it was the novelty of drinking from the paper cups that reminded you of those late nights in the library and the vending machines, but something about it hit differently than fresh coffee.

Today, however, was a freshly brewed coffee kind of day. You scooped out two spoons of medium roast coffee and put it into the machine, the rumbling of the water and brewing surprising you despite how often you’d used it before.

Deciding the breakfast he had (presumably) made for you wasn’t enough for two people, you took the bowl of rice and threw it back into the rice cooker to warm it up again. As much as you appreciated his efforts to cook, that’s the most credit he would get. Just one look at the dishes on the table and you could tell the spam was burnt and the scrambled eggs were too dry to be deemed edible. With a sorry heart, you watched the contents of the plate slide into the trash can. You’d have to remake breakfast, but you knew he’d thank you for it anyway.

The aroma slowly began to fill your apartment, stimulating Seungcheol to wake up.

“I made you breakfast,” he grunted, wiping his tired eyes.

“I saw that, but this isn’t enough for the two of us, dummy.”

Hearing you call him that made him believe that things between you were almost… normal. “I wasn’t planning on eating.”

“Well, now you’re going to.” It was more of a threat than an offer, and who was he to say no?

“What are you doing?”

“Frying the spam.”

“But I already made that…” his voice trailed off when he saw that the only thing left on the table was the kimchi.

“Yeah, poorly. We can’t eat what you made.”

His signature pout came out in full force, his lips protruding from his face.

The tension from last was almost nonexistent, as if you hadn’t gotten into a big fight and spent the past year not speaking to one another, as if you hadn’t told him you didn’t want to see him again. You stood in a silence that, once unfamiliar, was now more commonplace than you’d like, the only sounds in your apartment were the sizzling of oil on the pan as you threw on fresh eggs and spam. Unsure of what to do with himself, Seungcheol just loomed over you while you cooked the food—you kind of hated it because it felt like the times your mom would just stand there and watch you intently, like, what could she possibly want from you?

What could he possibly want from you?

“Okay,” you sighed, “breakfast is done.” With a swift turn of your wrist, everything came off the pan without difficulty onto the plate, the greasy smell stirring the appetite in your belly. Scooping two bowls of now warmed rice, you set them on a small tray with some side dishes your mother had left when she visited last weekend.

You brought the food to the table, motioning for him to sit down, too. Like second nature, Seungcheol immediately grabbed a piece of spam and placed it in your bowl of rice. If you had told someone that the two of you hadn’t spoken or interacted in the last year, you were sure they wouldn’t believe you solely based on his actions.

Yet, that was your reality: gut-wrenching heartbreak, cruel words, and a debilitating distance that you thought would solve your problems. The truth was that it didn’t. In some ways, it only made it worse.

There are two sayings: “Out of sight, out of mind,” and “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

You, unfortunately, fell victim to the latter phrase. Though, perhaps “fonder” wasn’t the right word—a more accurate phrase would be, “Absence makes the heart wither away in pain and make you wish you could go back in time and completely re-do everything.” But that didn’t exactly fit on a craft store, cross-stitch pillow, did it?

“Thanks,” Seungcheol mumbled, breaking the silence, “for cooking breakfast.”

You offered a quiet chuckle. “Re-cooking breakfast,” you added. “I should thank you for at least trying in the first place.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line, the skin in his cheek caving into that favorite dimple of yours. As you two continued to eat, silence prevailed and the tension remained thicker than the grease in your pan. Suddenly, Seungcheol put his chopsticks down with more force than he intended, which caught your attention mid-bite.

“Can we talk?”

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, yeah,” you said, swallowing your mouthful. You could feel your throat constrict, almost as if you were choking.

Seungcheol looked at the bookshelf behind you, his eyes glazing over as he contemplated how to start the conversation. “So…”

“So…”

“Sookyung and I…we—”

“She told me.”

“Right.” Seungcheol cleared his throat. “She, um, she told me she stopped by.”

“Really?”

They still kept in touch?

“Yeah. So, you know that she’s…”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously as he stared at his bowl of rice that had been untouched this entire time. Where was he even going with this? On the drive over here, he had planned everything he was going to say to you, how he was sorry, how he thought that maybe he was in love with you—still in love with you— and how maybe, just maybe, you could give him another chance.

Yet, now that he was here and you were there in front of him, all of those thoughts went straight out the window.

If the silence wasn’t going to kill you, surely your anxiety would. Your knees bounced underneath the table while you clutched the excess fabric of your pants.

“How are you doing?” you asked. Although you had spent the last year trying to let go of your relationship with Cheol, you had often typed the words into an empty message without hitting send.

Just four words. It was only four words, but they held so much weight. Seungcheol had spent countless nights wanting to ask you the same thing, typing the question out before deleting it for the nth time because he didn’t have the courage to hit ‘Send.’

He didn’t think that he would hear the words from you, however, his brain working overtime to develop a response. “I…I don’t know.”

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could exactly explain how you were feeling, how much of a toll this whole thing had taken on you even though you had moved far away from him in hopes that maybe you could finally move on with your life.

Silence filled your apartment once again, and rather than eating breakfast as you had intended to do, both of you just sat there like two kids who had gotten in trouble and were waiting for the principal to come in. Only this time, there wasn’t a third person to come tell you everything that you did wrong.

That would require that you own up to your actions, and that Seungcheol owned up to his—did either of you have it in you to do that?

And even if you did, would that really change anything? Or make a difference? The rational part of you knew that it wouldn’t change much. Despite Sookyung’s truth bomb and Seungcheol’s sudden appearance, you couldn’t help but wonder where to go from here.

You had spent the past year walking this path alone, and though it was lonely at times, you really only had yourself to rely on, resolute in your decision to finally move on from your first and only love, Choi Seungcheol. So, what difference was this supposed to make?

Did he think you would accept him with open arms? That now that he was a “free man,” the two of you could just run off into the sunset, hand in hand and live happily ever?

No. It wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy.

You fiddled with the food in front of you, your chopsticks breaking apart the scrambled eggs as your brain struggled to think of a response.

Instead, it was Cheol who broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his chin tucked into his neck as he stared at the balled up fists in his lap. All you could do was stare at the crown of his head, his long, black locks giving way to gravity. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Cheol…” you managed to say.

“I don’t know what I thought would happen. I just… I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” you agreed.

“Can I be honest though?”

“Of course.”

“It was nice seeing you.”

Suddenly, tears welled up in the corner of your eyes and it felt like someone was trying to squeeze them out of your body as you fought back that urge to let them fall. All you could give him instead was a reluctant smile.

“I missed you,” he said once more. It was like he was intent on making you hurt, but not in the way he had in the past. This time, his words hit a sore spot, and you wanted to be angry that those words were said in remorse, rather than in longing. But then again, you were also to blame for the position you two were in.

“Me too,” you told him, and you can see his shoulders relax a bit when the words hit his ears.

Relief.

He had been worried that you had hated him and would scream and yell at him to get lost, and sure, you had already told him the night prior that you hated him, but you were also inebriated. There was a good chance you didn’t even remember what you had told him, so to hear you say that sober, it was reassuring.

Those were the last words you two said before finishing your breakfast, the food now cold once again. When you were done, you went to grab his dish, but Seungcheol was faster, swooping your plate and taking it to the sink. Without a word, he just turned on the water and put on the gloves. You could have stopped him, insisted that he was the guest and that you could do the dishes, but you let him have this moment. Instead, you cleaned up the counter behind him, wiping the areas where the grease from the spam had splattered everywhere.

“Give me that,” he said, gesturing to the pan. You obliged, your hands touching when he grabbed the handle from you. It wasn’t some electrifying moment that opened your third eye, but it did make you realize how much you truly missed him. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—after all, it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t touched before, but yeah, you had to admit that this kind of domestic behavior was something you missed for sure.

You stopped and leaned against the counter, your eyes trained on the movement of his back muscles as he washed the dishes vigorously. Maybe in another life, in an alternate timeline, you two could have been standing in your kitchen as lovers instead of… whatever the fuck you were now. In another life, he would finally be yours.

“I, um,” you started, your voice faltering a bit, “I have to go get some groceries.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you… want to come with me?” It was a bold move, asking him to spend even more time with you considering the tension of the previous conversation, but hey, gotta shoot your shot, right?

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, though you couldn’t see it with his back turned towards you. “Just let me finish this one dish.”

“No rush,” you reassured him. “I’m just going to go get changed real quick.”

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you realize just how truly horrible you look. Wow, you really looked like this and Seungcheol didn’t say anything? Your hair was in complete disarray, unkempt and unbrushed, the strings of your hoodie completely misaligned. You pulled the thick fabric over and off your head, tossing it onto your bed. Another glance in the mirror and you realized that the t-shirt you were wearing was… his.

Did he choose this one? Did he remember that it used to belong to him?

Even after all this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of the comfiest shirt you owned, even if it belonged to the man who had broken your heart. Though, admittedly, you hadn’t worn the shirt in over a year for a certain reason. Instead, it just sat in the drawer, getting buried by new t-shirts you had bought and shoved in there.

You had stolen his t-shirt, but he had stolen your heart.

A knock on the door startled you, causing you to instinctively cover your chest despite you being fully clothed.

“I’m done with the dishes,” Cheol spoke loudly from the other side.

“Okay! Just give me a couple minutes to change,” you replied.

“Alright, I’ll just chill on the couch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Frantically, you grabbed a pair of jeans and threw on a thick hoodie, not wanting to make him wait any longer. You emerged from your room to find him leaning back on your couch, scrolling on his phone.

When he heard the door click, he looked up at you. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

The grocery store wasn’t any more than a twenty minute walk away from your house, but it had been a while since your last trip and you needed more than you could physically carry in two hands. You’d have to drive.

Seungcheol followed you to your car, entering through the passenger side. He settled nicely into the suede of your little sedan that was much older than his luxurious BMW. But it was comfortable, and it smelled like you, he noted.

He missed this.

The drive was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was of the tires on the road. Both of you were on edge, sensitive to the other’s every movement. Fortunately, the drive was short and you arrived at the grocery store which was a bit of a ghost town in the late morning. Before you could say or do anything, Seungcheol was already making his way to the carts, pulling it out and leaning against it as you entered the store. There was something quite sobering about the way the market smelled—maybe it was the way the dead fish and meat mixed with the vegetables in the frigid air, or the perpetual pine-forest scent of whatever cleaner they used to wipe the tiles constantly.

Seungcheol followed you like a puppy as you grabbed this and that off the shelves, muttering to yourself as you checked the items off your list on your phone. Neither of you really spoke to the other unless it was to ask him to grab that bag of chips from the bottom, no, not that one, yeah, no, yeah, that one.

Even when you were checking out, he waited for you patiently, packing the items into plastic bags and putting them in the cart which he later pushed out to your car. There, he unloaded everything and returned the cart diligently. You supposed he was probably used to this because it was something he did often with Sookyung, but still, it made your heart flutter. But you were also overwhelmed by the burden of guilt in your chest. Part of you was happy to be here, with your best friend (if you could still call him that), but another part of you felt responsible for what happened to him and his wife. It was you. You were the reason why they got divorced, and even though that tiny part of you wanted this to happen, you still felt horrible.

You hated the idea of being the source of anyone’s misery, and now you were the cause of not just one, but two people’s unhappiness. This wasn’t what you wanted. This wasn’t how you pictured your life to be all those years ago when you were just a naive university student madly in love with Choi Seungcheol.

The thought weighed heavy in your mind as you drove back home in silence. Again. Once upon a time ago, you would have been laughing and listening to your favorite songs when he was by your side, but the solemn mood now was incredibly foreign to the point that you could barely recognize the man beside you.

When “I’m just going to put these away real quick,” you told him. He nodded and sat down on your couch, but instead of scrolling on your phone, he just sat there, taking in your new apartment.

It was so different than the one you had lived in previously—this one was a lot more grown up, the furniture much more elevated and minimalistic in style compared to the posters of your favorite boy band you used to have in your childhood bedroom, or the photobooth strips that hung on your college apartment, the one you had lived in until you moved here. This one felt… empty—sad—like you had never fully moved in and made it your home.

Seungcheol wondered if you felt that way, if you felt like this was your home, if you were comfortable living here, if you were…

Happy.

“Coffee?” you offered. Despite already having had coffee earlier this morning, you weren’t quite sure what to do now that it was just the two of you alone in your apartment. There wasn’t much more you could do to stall between the inevitable conversation Seungcheol had come for, but you’d do your best to try. Kicking him out seemed too harsh, but fear crept into your heart when your mind began to wander, curious as to what he had to say to you.

“Please, I’ll help you,” he said, standing up abruptly and nearly stumbling over your coffee table. You had to stifle your laughter, his actions reminding you of the goofball you loved and missed, the one you would spend hours messing around with instead of studying for your university entrance exams. “You didn’t see that,” he blurted out. His ears turned red, but he was also relieved to see you smile for the first time since he had been here.

He wished he could make you smile even more.

“It’s okay, it’ll take me only a couple seconds.”

“Are you sure?”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure, Cheol. But thank you.” That was the only thing you were sure of, that you could make coffee without his help. But everything else that followed? Not so much.

When you were finished, you brought the mugs to the table and sat down in the chair adjacent to him.

“Thank you,” he said. The once foreign silence had now become something familiar, but the awkward tension remained ever the same. Was this who you were to each other now? No longer friends, but not quite distant strangers either?

“Do you ever wish you could start over?”

You brought the mug to your lips, only to pause upon hearing his question.

“That… maybe we could start over?” He had kept walking, but when he realized you weren’t by his side, he paused, too.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied.

Of course, you knew exactly what he meant. The real answer was: yes, you had thought about this countless times, and it was the reason for your sleeplessness over many nights, but you weren’t about to just confess that to him now.

Upon hearing your response, Seungcheol’s face fell. What was he doing here anyway? Well, no matter what happened, he had a lot to get off his chest, and if he didn’t do it now, he’d never get it over with. “You know. Us.”

“Yeah,” you finally relented. “I do.”

“Where did we go wrong?” he asked, his question ending with a chuckle.

“I fell in love with you,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the cup of coffee in your hands.

“How long?”

“Since as long as I could remember.” There was a long pause, and you wished the Earth could swallow you whole. “I shouldn’t have,” you confessed. “I should have stopped loving you the moment you started dating Sookyung.”

“Why?”

“Because then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. You would still be with Sookyung and I’d—”

“I don’t love her.”

The words were colder than the winter air that swept against your cheeks. Seungcheol looked at you, as if he was looking for an answer.

“I mean, I did love her, but not like I loved you.”

Loved. Past tense.

“Then why?”

“You were with Yanan.”

“But we broke up.” Somehow, the coffee no longer seemed appetizing, the smell only nauseating you. You stood up and walked back to the kitchen where you dumped it into the sink.

“I thought… maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

“But you and Sookyung were?” You looked up, but Seungcheol was no longer on the couch—instead, he had followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the threshold as he curiously watched you wash the cup.

He shrugged. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Instead, he gave you an answer: “I thought we were.”

Silence, and then a beat.

“You were my best friend, you know?”

Yeah, you knew perfectly well.

“And best friends don’t fall in love.”

No, they don’t.

“And I think I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“The consequences.”

“Of?”

“Telling you.” Seungcheol wished you would look at him, but he understood that you were nervous—he was, too.

You knew exactly what he meant, and now you understood maybe why you were in the position you were in.

“We’re cowards,” you laughed, pausing your mindless dishwashing.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” he let out a hearty chuckle. Maybe, instead of dating Sookyung to cope with your relationship with Yanan, he should have fought harder for you. But he was young and stupid. You both were.

Perhaps neither of you would be in this impossible situation had you just been honest with one another in the first place, regardless of the consequences.

“Hey,” he said. He was now standing right next to you, grabbing the mug from your hands and placing it in the sink carefully. Goosebumps formed on your arm when you felt his skin on yours, his rough hands taking hold of your own. “Let’s start over, okay?” Squeezing your hand with intent, he leaned forward to look you in the eyes, his face serious and without a shred of doubt. “Let’s… let’s start over and do this the right way.”

You froze. This was the moment you had been waiting for who knows how long, but why did that voice inside you keep telling you no? They say the eyes are the window to the soul, yet when Seungcheol looked into yours, he had a hard time reading what could possibly be running through your head right now.

“Come on,” he said, closing the gap between you. You didn’t know it was possible to be even closer than you already were, but he managed to do it. “What do you say?”

You had spent countless days and nights dreaming of the day you would be this close to Seungcheol, your hands in his, his face so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You were so close, in fact, that one miniscule movement and you would finally know what it feels like to feel his lips, to taste them.

You stepped back, pulling your hands out of his grip, the only thing your head could do was shake back and forth. “No…” you whispered. “I-I can’t.”

His eyebrows furrow at your words as if he doesn’t quite process what he’s hearing. “What?”

“We can’t, Cheol.”

“What do you mean we can’t?” Concern grew on his face as he tried to close the space between you, but you only stepped back in reflex.

“We just can’t.”

“You’re not making sense.” You could sense the annoyance interlaced in his voice, but you understood why. “Explain it to me so I can understand why.”

“It’s too late. For you. For me. The damage has been done. We can’t go back in time, we can’t undo the years of longing and pining, and we can’t just… start over.”

“Why not?”

“You still don’t understand?”

“No. I don’t.”

“We hurt each other. And not just each other, but others, too. Look at Sookyung—”

And that’s when Seungcheol understood exactly what you were saying. Or, rather, what you were trying to convince him of, if not yourself.

“Stop—”

“You married her and you were supposed to be together forever, but then you guys got divorced because of me—” you continued to ramble on, your eyes staring out at the sunlight sparkling on the surface of the water, completely unaware that Seungcheol was approaching you again.

“Stop!” Seungcheol’s loud voice echoed in your quiet apartment. “When are you going to stop making up excuses and blaming others for your own fears?”

The blood in your veins began to boil at his accusations. “I’m not blaming anyone.”

“You are. You said we were cowards. But you? You still are.”

“I am not,” you contested, raising your voice to match his.

“Then why? Why won’t you stop being afraid and take a chance?” He paused. Realizing he had been shouting, he lowered his voice and continued, “With me?”

You could no longer face him, turning around to hide the tears that threaten to fall. The only sound in your apartment now was the ticking of your clock and your and Seungcheol’s heavy breathing.

You jumped when you felt his hands wrap around your arms and turn you around to face him. “Look at me.”

“Cheol, please—”

“I said, look at me.” When your gaze met his, his fingers loosened their grip and his face softened. “I’m going to say something, but I need you to let me finish, okay?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“We can start over—”

“Seungcheol—”

“Listen, please. We’ve spent our whole lives lying to each other—to ourselves—but now? Now, we can finally be honest. We can be honest about how we feel and we can start over.”

Your heart palpitated in your chest, and despite the embarrassment that grew within you, you never once took your eyes off of him.

“I’ll start,” he continued. “I can’t lie to you, or myself, anymore. I love you. I am in love with you.” You could have swore your heart shattered upon hearing those words come from his lips. “You are the woman I’ve always wanted to be with, ever since we were young. I loved you then, and I love you now. And I’ll love you until the end of our days. This past year, you’ve been the only one I could think about—from the moment I wake up to the moment I close my eyes—no, even after I fall asleep, you’re the only person on my mind. Do you know how often I wanted to call you? To ask you how you were? If you were eating well? If maybe you had found someone who was deserving of your love? Do you know how worried I was on the drive over, asking myself if this was the right thing to do?” He took a deep breath before continuing, “But now that you’re here in front of me, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, which is how much I love you, and how I’d regret it every day of my life if I didn’t tell you how I feel.

“I know you’re scared, because honestly, I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if I’m going to find out, I want to do it with you. Together. So, please, don’t be afraid and trust me.”

By now, tears were streaming down your cheeks at full force, the words you wanted to stay lodged in your throat. Your eyes fell to the ground.

“The only thing that will get me to leave,” Seungcheol said, his voice the quietest it had been all day, “is if you tell me you don’t love me.”

You bit your lip which only made the dread in his heart worse. Perhaps he really had made a mistake.

“Seungcheol, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just tell me. I can handle it.” He was lying, though, of course. Because if you really told him that you didn’t love him, he felt as if his whole world might crumble.

Your brain went into overdrive trying to process his confession, let alone find the right words to formulate a response. Seungcheol could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

“You’re right,” you whisper. “I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t want to get hurt. Again. Or worse, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,” he assured you.

“You know that’s not true.” Your eyes shot up from the ground and you were met with his own, tears pooling in the corners. “I’ve hurt you, Cheol. You have every reason to hate me. I ended your marriage—”

“What happened to Sookyung and I was entirely our own fault, and no one else’s. I don’t want you to ever blame yourself for that, okay?”

You shook your head. “What if I hurt you again?”

“Would you? Intentionally?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. We’ve come way too far now to go back, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start over. Fresh. Clean page. Just you and me, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Cheol—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Seungcheol, I—”

“Do you trust me?” His hands wrapped around your cheeks as he stared into your eyes with a longing look.

“I love you.” The words fall from your mouth with much more ease than anticipated, and it’s not long before your foreheads are pressed together.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathed out the words again and looked him straight in the eyes before continuing, “Cheol.”

Without another second to wait, he lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours, so soft and gentle as to not break you any further than he already had. He could feel your tears on his cheeks, but when he pulled away to check on you, you only grasped onto his face and pulled him back.

Every worry, every fear that used to plague your thoughts melted away with his touch. For the first time in a really long time, everything felt right, clicking into place as simple as that.

If you could kiss him for the rest of your life, you absolutely would have, but the whole day had taken its toll on you and the crying didn’t seem to help either. Instead, Seungcheol simply wiped your tears and the two of you fell asleep on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if to say, I will never let you go. Not again. Not this time. Never.

When you woke up, your body was sore from having been in that position for a few hours. You adjusted your head to take a good look at your best friend who was still asleep, breathing softly as the golden glow of the setting sun seeped through your windows, illuminating the edges of his face.

Finally, he could sleep. But he was awoken by the faint grumbling of your stomach. He opened one eye and looked curiously at you, causing you to shove your face into his chest from embarrassment. There was a resounding vibration when he laughed. “Someone’s hungry,” he chuckled, his voice deep and raspy but sounding like music to your ears.

“Stop,” you whined. There was something strange about being so close, so intimate, with him. It brought you back to your high school days, that feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you’d see him walk the halls. If only you had known your true feelings then…

But what mattered was the fact that you were here, with him, right now. What mattered was that now you had been able to be honest with him, with yourself, and when you were in his arms like this, everything finally felt right in the world.

Sure, it would be strange getting used to calling him not only your best friend, but your boyfriend—yet, it was a welcome change, one you knew you would adjust to in no time.

“Should we eat?” Seungcheol asked.

“Mm, I’m not that hungry,” you lied, but your stomach betrayed you, grumbling again.

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other anymore,” he teased.

“Fine, we should eat. But I just want ten more minutes.”

“To do what?”

“To stay like this,” you told him, tightening your grip around his waist as you close your eyes and bury your face in his body. With a gentle kiss on the top of your head, Seungcheol happily obliged and the two of you remained on that couch for longer than ten minutes.

You were finally his tonight. And you would be tomorrow. And the day after.

Forever and always.

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 6 months

Text

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part Twelve (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Trauma and betrayal O.O

Part eleven Part thirteen

Tag list: Open

Y/N and Eris are struggling to go back to normal, and Eris and Sam still don't like each other.

Sorry I'm not keeping up with posting! I've been having trouble sitting down and writing, and my motivation is waning 😭

Maybe it was petty, but I didn’t care. I was quiet, a smile on my face that I didn’t feel the whole time we got ready, and still once we made it into the nearby forest.

“And you’re absolutely fine?” Eris questioned again as he followed me through the forest.

Sam had taught me long ago how to find the almost invisible traces he left if I ever needed to find him. And sure enough, I found them here.

“Again, why wouldn’t I be? Nothing bad happened.” I say, and I feel a twinge of guilt for not being honest with him.

But I need his help, and I do not need him storming off in a huff and leaving me alone to figure this out.

So I continued to lie.

I don’t know what would happen if he actually figured out what was wrong before I told him, but I didn’t really want to know.

All my years in the afterlife, I never found anyone I cared for as much as I had Eris. It wasn’t like I was waiting for him, but I had never found someone I could truly be myself with besides him.

It hurt too much to remember that he’s not interested, that we were just friends.

But it is enough for me.

If I can keep my damn emotions in check that is.

Eventually I found the old withered cabin Sam must be staying in. Eris made to just stride in the front door, but I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Are you trying to die?” I ask him sharply.

He gives me a baffled look, and I roll my eyes, using my magic to open the door from a distance.

A flurry of arrows rained down in the doorway, and Eris paled.

“You seriously weren't expecting him to have defenses up?” I ask, a brow raising in question.

Eris grimaced, “Do you?”

I nod. “Not so violent or obvious, but you work with what you have.”

“Wow. Rude.” Sam said from one of the trees above us, and I snorted as Eris’s head swiveled back and around, trying to find him in the trees.

Sam gracefully landed on the ground, and I could tell Eris was highly unnerved.

I on the other hand chuckled, moving to give my friend a hug. “I’m guessing you haven’t figured out how to use that thing we stole yet, have you?” I tease a bit, pulling away after a moment.

I could feel Eris willing me to look at him like a physical string, but I ignored it.

He sighed, obviously already tired of me. “No, I haven’t. Though, from the research I’ve done, I found it’s called an Astral, and is somehow linked to the Astrei.” He said, a slight edge to his tone.

I stiffened. In my small group of trusted friends in afterlife, Sam and Asterin were the only two who hadn’t had direct contact with the Asteri in some way, so they still only had a faint clue as to what they could do.

“We’ll have to be careful then.” I murmur, more to myself than to him.

What we’ve been working at for years was to put a stop to the Asteri. The last thing we needed was them showing up here where no one was ready for a battle.

It wouldn’t be a battle, it would be a massacre. The thought hit me like an arrow, making me wince.

“Let’s see it then.” Eris said, a bit impatiently.

Sam glared at him. “You’re not in charge here.” Sam gritted out, and I rolled my eyes.

“Both of you cut it the fuck out.” I snapped, and Eris seemed taken aback. Sam was used to this me though, and shrugged.

Letting Sam lead us through the remaining traps, we all took a seat at the kitchen table, if you could call the rotting piece of wood even that.

The Astral was now sitting in the middle of the table, and I examined it, prodding it with my magic.

I could scent both of my friends' agitation and finally growled, “If you two are going to be pissy and beat your chests, can you do it where it’s not breaking my concentration?”

Sam must have shot Eris a look as he rises, because Eris growls as he watches Sam leave.

“That included you.” I say, not taking my eyes off of the Astral.

Eris shifted uncomfortably. “You’re upset with me.” He says plainly, and I stiffen.

“Yes.” I say, sighing as I temporarily give up on studying the Astral. I tilt my head as I look at him, letting him see my displeasure.

“What-”

A crash makes me shoot to my feet. Eris and I give each other only one look before we’re both sprinting out the front door to find Sam holding a dagger against someone's neck.

Azriel’s neck.

Our eyes meet and I watch his face flicker to surprise and then hurt as he sees who I’m with.

“Sam, let him go.” I hiss, storming over and leaving Eris behind me.

Sam raised an eyebrow, quickly taking the knife away and stepping back, but still eyeing him cautiously. “Another friend of yours?” He asked, and Azriel eyed him also, sizing up this human who had gotten the drop on him.

My lip twitched up in a smirk as I thought about how everyone would tease Az for letting a human sneak up on him.

Sam wasn’t just any human though.

Any semblance of a smile fled from my face as Azriel turned his gaze onto me. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He was still used to me being sweet and pliant. So he wasn’t expecting me to roll my eyes, sticking my hands in my pockets and say, “I don’t know Azriel, maybe you should keep a closer eye on family members.”

His eyes widened, nostrils flaring slightly as he realized who exactly Erica was.

The cool mask he usually wore was cracked, and I took that moment of him being unsure to say, “I’m trying to fix things, and the last thing I need is you and my brother interfering right now.”

His face snapped into it’s cool unbothered state. “But you need him?” Azriel half growled, his eyes burrowing into me.

My shoulders straightened. I was not letting fucking Azriel make me back down. I had faced the Asteri and won, my brother’s friend was like a goddamned angry puppy in comparison.

“Well, maybe it’s-” Eris started, but shut up when I shot him a glare.

“Contrary to popular opinion-” I say, turning my head back to Azriel who only had a glimmer of shock in his hazel eyes. “Eris can be helpful, nice even.”

Azriel studied me carefully. “What happened to you?”

I sigh. I relax slightly as I run my hand through my hair. “I was always like this Az. I’m sure you remember dear old dad?” I ask, looking up at him.

His eyes darted to Sam and Eris, as if waiting for them to leave.

Both of them had heard this story before.

Azriel, realizing no one was going to leave, tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Of course.

“I wasn’t allowed to be anything other than what everyone saw. The pretty lady of night who was as harmless as a dove. That was never who I really was, but I had to hide who I was because of my father.” As I spoke, I saw Azriel’s gaze darken.

“You could have told us. You could have been yourself around us.”

His voice was angry, and I shouldn’t blame him, I really shouldn’t.

But my day was already shit, and he wasn’t fucking listening.

“When were we ever in a room where my father, or someone loyal to my father wasn’t also in there?” I ask, staring at him.

“We are going home.” He snarled, walking up and attempting to grab my arm.

I say attempting because Sam was right back at him with the dagger and Eris stepped in front of me, protecting us with a wall of fire.

“It looks like no one is going anywhere for awhile.” Eris said with a smug smile.

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goodluckclove · 13 days

Text

Various "Failures" From My Google Docs

Good morning! I'm at my usual coffee shop and got inspired by the troubles of a few friends to embarrass myself.

Sit down with me. I'm enjoying my usual blended chai. There's room on the couch if you'd like to join me.

So I've written thirteen novels. I think thirteen, I've actually lost count. Let's say, like, five full-length plays and twelve to fourteen finished novels. Impressive, right? Maybe. I'm realizing that I consider that not much of a brag, if only because I know the amount of trips and stumbles it took to get to one completed project.

I've ditched a lot of ideas. A lot. If I need to I can dig into my old hard drives to find all the doc files from my youth, but I also have the same Google Docs I've had since middle school.

It's mostly plays and ghostwriting assignments, but if you did you'll find some snippets from my constant attempts at growth.

Some stuff like this is okay. The line "hair slicked back/suit black silk" is pretty good, but a little too the writer thinks they're clever for me now. I don't really remember where I planned to go with this. I think the narrator was somehow going to be given the identity of Roy Fontaine. I was really fixated on the surname Fontaine at the time. I don't know why.

But then there's also a lot of stuff like this:

Hey look it's Fontaine again! I guess he's a doctor, too! Also I am astounded by how casually the main character just pulls out the Necronomicon. He pulls it out? From where? His pocket? Is it a zine?

I don't know why, but something about how suddenly this jumps in terms of dropping specifics makes me think that Sonic the Hedgehog is about to show up. I can't explain it.

This is the only thing in a Doc titled "Psychosis". I have zero memory of what I was planning on doing with this. What's kind of crazy though is that I wrote this in 2014, and six years later I'll use essentially this exact bit in a finished novel without even realizing it.

Another bit from 2014. No clue what I planned to do with this. It's hilarious to me that something stopped me from finishing the sentence. What am I, Franz Kafka writing The Tower? I didn't die. I wasn't raptured. I just apparently tried to think of something a large oak door would do and immediately gave up. It was 2014 I had finished, like, four novels. And this idea was fully stalled by what had to be a fucking huge oak door.

My favorite part of this radio play I tried to write is that somehow, believe it or not - when I wrote this I did not fully understand the Quantum Suicide thought experiment. And for along time I still kind of thought that this could be salvaged into a good idea, until last night when I asked my wife to put on a video describing the experiment and I immediately found it so dumb. Just ridiculously stupid. The only good thing about Quantum Mickey is that the title kicks ass and I'm definitely keeping it for something.

I've written a lot. A lot. I've earned the severity of carpal tunnel I currently have. If I had to put it into a statistic, I'd say maybe seventy percent ends up finished. fifty percent ends up polished to be read or published. Thirty percent actually ends up being read or published. I'm okay with this, because I enjoy the work. But for me, part of enjoying the work is not panicking when a project doing work.

If I need to end a project in the middle of a sentence, I do. I've clearly proven that I do. Sometimes I write for thirty pages and lose interest, other times I get a paragraph in and get distracted forever. That's okay.

That's okay. As long as you're doing something.

I could've included segments of Carnation, my first novella that was supposed to be a novel but I never finished it. But I fucking guess that's getting it's own post when I hit 150 followers so I hope you're prepared for what the type of stuff I enjoyed in middle school.

There's an Irish child that speaks exclusively in slang. You aren't ready.

#writeblr #writing community #on writing #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #writing #writing advice #writing tips #writing inspo #writing inspiration

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iddybiddysquish · 1 year

Text

I Regret Request: Aizawa x Reader

Masterlist: Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Gender: AFAB

Warnings: Student x teacher! Vaginal fingering, marking, A/B/O quirk, arousal quirk, crampie, riding, biting, marking, unsafe sex, mild bondage, 69, oral sex giving and receiving, spanking, slight brat taming - not good with terminology to let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading! Never written for Aizawa before so pls be kind! <3 Reader has the ability to copy and edit quirks! Not beta read, we die like men.

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I was exhausted and yet nowhere near satisfied. I knew I was going to need to call in sick with how painful this arousal is.

Quirk: A/B/O

Quirk: Estrus

This quirk gives the user the ability to cast uncontrollable arousal in individuals who are touched or are within a 5 m distance.

'I don't have enough hands for this shit.'

Everything was made worse by the fact that I had no clue how long this would last.

‘Is this monthly or annually?’

‘I blame Tokoyami’s mating season…!’ I groaned, ‘Then at least it would just be a heat, estrus and a mating season…’

I wanted to cry.

Much to my surprise, when I explained to the receptionist I needed to speak to Aizawa, I was passed to him relatively quickly.

“(L/N)-san.” he greeted, “Are you unwell?”

“Something like that.” I groaned, crossing my legs tightly, “I’m in a very… difficult situation and I need some guidance.”

“I can help you in class if you want?” he begged, “If you get here sooner we can discuss it before class.”

“I… I don’t know if I can come to class.” I basically whispered. Aizawa frowned at this on the other side of the line with concern.

“Should I be concerned, (L/N)-san?” I sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“This is going to be super awkward, so I’m sorry.” I warned, earning a grunt which sent a painful zap towards my clit, making me flush, “I copied a quirk.”

“Uh-huh…” he nodded when I didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“... I wasn’t expecting that.” he admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I assume you’re in halls?” I nodded.

“Yeah.” I laughed humorlessly, “I know, right? I only discovered this would happen today because it’s happening now.

“Stay in the halls.” he confirmed, “I’ll do some research and see what strings I can pull. You won’t be the first to experience either one of those things and I doubt you’ll be the last.

“Thanks sensei. I appreciate it.” he nodded.

“I’ll talk to you later. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Didn't mean he wasn't still tempted to pay her a visit to see her for himself.

In all honesty it all went right to his cock.

'Not now…' he cursed, shuffling his pants around to hide the growing chub before entering the classroom with the same enthusiasm as he did every morning.

“Good morning, students.” Aizawa greeted, catching everyone off guard, Denki and Kirishima running to their seats as soon as he entered the room.

“You’re here early, sir?” Yaoyorozu spoke up, raising her arm. Aizawa nodded.

“I have an announcement.” he confirmed, “As you know, Tokoyami is still off. However (L/N)-san is having some complications with her quirk.

“As a result it would be wise for you all to leave her be in her room and don’t communicate with her until it resolves. It’s likely to last for at least a week.”

“So we won’t see her at all?” Ashido begged, earning the shake of a head.

“But what about food?” Hagakure begged, “(L/N)-san eats a lot.” Aizawa removed some of his hair from his face, thinking about the response, before answering.

“Is she well?” Uraraka begged, concerned. Aizawa nodded.

“She’s not sick. It’s just something related to her quirk.”

“Why do they have to be female?” Iida begged, raising his arm. Aizawa groaned.

“It’s not necessary. But it would be best that all the men stay away from her door.”

“Why?” Kirishima begged, “What would require only the men to stay away?”

“Is it the same reason as Tokoyami?” Asui begged, raising her hand before Aizawa could respond. He sighed.

“Wait, why is Tokoyami away?” Midoriya begged her way.

“Mating season.” Asui noted casually with a shrug.

"Oh hell yeah!" Mineta cheered, causing Sero to cringe.

“It’s a private matter. That’s all you need to know.” Bakugou raised a brow at this.

“So who’s gonna feed her?” he begged with a glare. Immediately everyone turned to Bakugou, causing his brow to twitch violently, “Why me?!”

Aizawa attempts not to get too attached to his students. The bonds are unbreakable of course, but he knows they only have three years to put each student through the ringer in order to make them become top heroes. That requires a lot of tough love and heartache as a teacher and guide.

This was a lot harder with (L/N) than he had originally anticipated. He'd be lying to say it wasn't the first time he'd gotten attached to a student, but even he couldn't deny that this was different. (L/N) was particularly unusual as a student. She was kind hearted and wore her heart on her sleeve despite having a strong offensive quirk that normally would create a lot of narcissism in an individual. It didn't match her attitude to herself and those around her.

Not that this was a bad thing in his eyes. It was just unusual. A diamond in the rough so to speak.

However she was reckless. Copying quirks willy nilly was dangerous and now he was having to pick up the pieces because of it. He could think of ways to make her pay, but none of them were PG.

'No.' he cursed mentally, 'I shouldn't think like that. She's my student.'

Still the dirty thoughts lingered. And they were with him the rest of the day as he contemplated how to fix the situation - (L/N)'s and his own that seemed to grow in his pants the more he contemplated the former.

It just didn’t feel right.

Opening the door I went to walk forward, but found myself freezing in the spot at all the scents.

“Oh… my god.” I reeled, gulping.

It took me a good few minutes just standing there in order to get used to all the smells. Some were pleasant, some were repulsive.

But others were tasty.

‘The strongest scent is…’ I realised quickly, mouth watering, ‘Bakugou’s…’

What was more interesting was the minty freshness that was Todoroki’s scent I could detect from the elevator.

‘It’s almost spicy to the senses.’ I mused, feeling a wave of calmness wash over me.

Again, it didn’t surprise me that I felt myself drifting his way. Todoroki was very attractive and we had been getting closer as of late. It was almost predictable.

However the scent that was most tantalising, surprisingly, was Aizawa's. It was the faintest since he was rarely here. But it was still there, teasing me and making my mouth water.

'Does he know he smells that good?'

I shook my head.

‘I can’t go sneaking around like this.’ I scolded myself as my Omega whined at me, begging to investigate. I shook my head again as I felt my thighs clench and almost whined myself.

“No. I can’t.” But I didn’t move away from the door.

‘This would be so amoral of me…’

Despite knowing this, I found myself turning myself invisible as I stalked towards the teachers quarters. It wasn't long before I arrived with only slight hesitation as I grasped the doorknob. I cringed at the squeak as the door opened, checking there was no one else around, but I was quickly blindsided by the absolute raw stench of his scent and felt my Omega trill in happiness.

From there I had zero control of myself as I entered his room and closed the door behind me, sniffing deeply as I attempted to fill my entire lungs with his scent.

Naturally, his bed smelt the strongest. And I couldn’t stop myself from lying on it and taking a deep breath of his pillow. With little effort I could fall asleep here and God did I want to.

However, I didn’t want to be caught by a cleaner or anything, so I regretfully removed myself from his bedding and skulked around his room with intrigue.

‘I need to leave.’ I concluded, anxiously, ‘I need to get back to my room.’ despite feeling safe immersed in his scent. Regardless, I needed to get back and the need to hide was strong.

I couldn’t force myself to leave quickly. I eyed the bed and whined before eyeing his dirty clothing hamper with a dangerous thought in my mind.

‘I can’t.’ I argued as I looked inside, moving things around a bit as I took in his scent further, ‘He’d so notice if I took something of his.’

As if that was the only reason not to steal his clothing like some kind of smell-pervert.

I spent most of my time preening, snuggling Aizawa's shirt and masterbating. It was a simple routine as I stored my snacks carefully as though I was creating a proper den to live in. And I supposed I was, given I’d be stuck here for the next however long it would be before I could go back to normal.

When I started to hear the whirl of the elevator and the sounds of people talking that was my first clue that school was over. My next clue was the knock at my door.

"Uraraka-san!" Iida commanded loudly, gaining my attention quickly, "Sensei said not to engage with (L/N)!"

"I know but I just want her to know we support her." She muttered back before turning back to the door, "We're here for you, (L/N)! Stay safe!"

I had no idea how anxiety-inducing it would be now that everyone was back. But now I knew: it’s very anxiety-inducing.

I managed to fall asleep by burrowing myself with blankets and pillows. However I stirred when I sensed someone outside of my door, hearing them muttering something to themselves.

That’s when I realised it was Aizawa of all people.

My heart and Omega leapt at the thought.

"(L/N)-san." He spoke curtly, "I'll be delivering your food from now. Eat up."

'For me…?'

This continued morning and evening for the next few days and sadly I wasn’t improving despite ordering new toys and other kinky tools to try and earn some relief. I was extremely grateful for Kaminari bringing them to me, oblivious to the contents, although I realised quickly he was hoping he’d get to see me when he knocked on the door. I heard him sit down outside of it as he began telling me about what I’d missed at school.

It was sweet of him.

“Bakugou kicked the crap out of him of course! The guy had a bloody nose for the rest of the day he hit him so hard!” he laughed, “I suppose that's what you get for messing with him.” I laughed, something he didn’t hear as I was hidden under the covers of my den.

I considered sitting by the door, but I was too desperate for a release, I worried I’d open it and ruin everything. And of all people, as wonderful as Kaminari is, my rational brain and Omega didn't want to have sex with him.

Only Aizawa would work. He was my prime Alpha.

So I didn’t and waited for him to leave before taking the box and abusing its contents.

By the time I had finished it was dinner time, and I basically sat glued to the door with blankets on me as I listened for Aizawa to arrive.

The strength of the symptoms seemed to wax instead of wane as time went on and I realised I was starting to really struggle when I heard his familiar footsteps coming towards the door. I breathed in greedily when I was greeted with his scent and moaned at the delicious smell, feeling myself until he paused at the door and knocked.

"Food, (L/N)."

I felt my mouth water - and it wasn't from the food. For once Aizawa didn't smell as much of his cologne and more of his natural, earthy scent and it was driving me wild.

"Thank you, Alpha." I spoke up, not thinking as I reached for the door and creaked it open slowly. Aizawa looked surprised given I hadn't done this before. But as soon as I did he made his face remain impassive.

It was difficult, however, because he could practically smell my aching cunt and desperation. Another thing that went straight to his cock.

"How are you doing?" He begged reaching out to feel my forehead, wincing slightly at my temperature with a deep sigh, "You're burning up."

"Need knot." I whined as I leaned into his cool touch. Aizawa looked at me for a moment before sighing again.

"You know I can't do that, (L/N)." He muttered as I pouted up at him. Opening the door fully I sat with my legs wide as I posed for him and gripped my thighs.

"Please, Alpha." Aizawa blinked, realising I was soaked through my underwear. It was then he noticed the sheen of sweat glistening against my skin.

I was a hot mess and it was driving Aizawa wild despite his cool and calm demeanour. It was starting to shatter his ability to hold back as I purred up at him and began to touch myself.

"Pretty please?" I begged as I batted my eyelashes at him.

Aizawa paused for a moment before breathing out haggardly. It felt like he'd run a hundred miles as he stared into my eyes.

As if the wall collapsed, all his self control flew out the window as he crouched and crawled over me, shutting the door with his foot and immediately going for my lips.

I moaned as his tongue glided across my lips, demanding entry. I gave in with little restraint and he forced his way into my mouth before sucking my lip and nibbling at it, eliciting more moans.

I was putty in his hands as he pulled me into him, gliding his nails across my back and under my shirt, causing me to arch into him. I felt him smirk into the kiss as I returned the favour, nipping his lip and forcing my own tongue into his mouth as I tugged on his ragged locks.

Hearing him moan was delicious and rare, I could tell. So when he did I felt my Omega trill with pride.

My hands dived down to his pants slowly as I played with the buckle and tugged at it, whining when he did nothing to free the thick erection I could feel pressing into my pubis. Aizawa gave me a mocking smirk as I fumbled with the belt, having to bring my other hand from his hair down to help.

"Eager, aren't you, (F/N)?" He chuckled. I pouted at his mockery, but grinned triumphantly when I managed to get the belt free and quickly put my hand down his trousers and pumped his cock once, then twice causing him to hiss.

I started to pump at a steady pace, watching as he gave the occasional groan into my body. From there he pushed my shirt up and dived into my breasts, giving them small kisses and sucks before latching onto my nipples. Occasionally I could feel the reverberations of his moans through them, eliciting small sparks through my body.

I had dreamed of this with Aizawa. For longer than I'd like to admit. He was a beautiful man with a drive I was in awe of. So I was a bit euphoric and dazed now that it was really happening. It means I also couldn't help but stare at him, which is when I realised he had been staring at me the whole time.

It was incredibly intimate. Being able to watch his expression shift as he experienced the pleasure I was giving him was a huge turn on, not to mention a beautiful sight.

'I'm the cause of that.'

However it wasn't long before he took control, taking my hands from his pants and pinning them above my head as he smirked down at me.

"Keep them there." He warned, "Be a good girl for Daddy."

Wordlessly I nodded, leaving my arms exactly where he pinned them. Only then did he slowly move his hands across my body before lowering himself towards my crotch and took a deep breath.

"Beautiful…" he muttered as he tugged on my underwear. However I made the error of trying to help with my hands, earning a glare. I froze.

"What did I say?"

"S-sorry Daddy." I muttered as I put my hands back where they were. He sighed and shook his head.

"Are you being a bad girl?" He begged lowly. I felt my cunt clench as he pulled me up and manhandled me into position on his lap so my ass was up in the air. I whined as I felt the cold air his my ass and vagina as he yanked my panties off, only to yelp when his hand came down on my left ass cheek roughly.

"Are you not answering me now?"

"I-I'm not being bad, I swear-" I yelped again as his hand came down for a second time, then a third and a fourth on the other cheek.

"I can't hear you." He muttered as he kneaded my abused ass cheeks gently. I felt tears prickle my vision at the sting but my slick only pooled out more as my cunt clenched with each wack.

"I'm not being a bad girl! I promise!" Aizawa raised a brow at me.

"You want to be a good girl again?" I nodded feverently.

"I'm your good girl, Daddy." I promised, earning a satisfied chuckle from the man.

"Alright. Come here."

Confused, I sat up and back onto my legs only for him to pull my legs towards him. It wasn't long before I realised he wanted to eat me out. However my mouth positioned so perfectly over his unexposed cock that I felt my mouth water.

As soon as my hands dived down to expose his throbbing cock he chuckled, breath tickling my clit.

"So eager." He mocked before pulling me down so he could sheath his face into my cunt. Immediately I gasped out and clenched around him, clawing at his clothes thighs as I bit back a lot of loud moans.

His tongue was experienced and effortlessly glided around my vagina to take in the delicious slick I was producing before his tongue dived into my pussy for more. Aizawa knew I'd taste great but he want expecting something so sweet and divine. It was addictive.

It wasn't long before his tongue finished it's pursuit and went straight for my clit as he encouraged me to rock on his face.

I jumped and squeaked at the sudden stimulation before practically melting on his face. Only when I'd adjusted however did I pull his cock free and hollowed out my cheeks. Taking in the tip I felt him moan into my pussy, making me smirk. I bobbed slowly, teasing his head slightly before taking the entirety of him in. He was thick and long so it was hard, but I relaxed my throat and took him in as deep as I could.

I felt his nails dig into my thighs as his ministrations picked up. After some trial and error I managed to match his pace as my head bobbed and my mouth drooled at the taste of his precum.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been sucking on him for. But I felt Aizawa buck into my mouth as his pace picked up on my clit. I could tell he was getting close from the way his hips jumped and stuttered and quite frankly I was exactly the same despite his continued encouragement with his hands to keep me moving on his face.

On a mission, I picked up the pace as I got closer and closer to my release. With time, however, I was soon unravelling on his tongue, moans and words of praise choked by his cock. Once I recovered I started sucking with the same pace and vigour as before, taking him deep down my throat as he began to deep throat me, hands pulling me down by the waist. It was a bruising grip but I didn't mind. It kept me grounded as he continued to suck me through and after my orgasm.

Soon his own release followed as he forced his cock down my throat. I choked, tears welling up and falling as I swallowed and attempted to keep sucking as I guzzled his cum greedily.

"Such a good girl." I heard him moan into my cunt before a slap to my ass sounded in the room, making me jump off of him. I was slightly dazed and my throat sore from the stretch, but I was still hungry for more.

And Aizawa could sense this as I sat before him. He smirked down at me as he brushed my hair out of my face and pulled me in for a rough kiss.

"Tell me what you want." I blinked.

"You." He tsked.

"What about me? Be more specific, (F/N)." I pouted, my cheeks reddening as I thought of all the lewd things I wanted him to do to me. Eventually I plucked up the courage and looked him in the eye as I climbed onto his lap.

"I want to feel you inside me." I whined, "Please, Daddy? I need to fuck you." Aizawa chuckled before pulling me up and standing, taking me to the bed.

"See that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Aizawa immediately began to nip and suck at my neck, finding the most tempting of places that made me moan the loudest with little effort. Simultaneously he kneaded my breast with one hand whilst caressing my thigh with the other, hand gliding dangerously towards my clenching cunt. I began to get impatient with his teasing and growled at him, pulling his hand to my cunt demanding that he finger me.

Aizawa didn't like that.

Snatching his hand away, Aizawa glowered down at me dangerously before pinning my hands above the bed. When I wriggled in his grasp he grabbed his belt and quickly tied my arms to the bed.

"If you're going to be a brat." He muttered, slapping my tit when I fussed, making me yelp, "I'll treat you like one."

As if to solidify his point he began to tease my entrance with his fingers, gently scratching at my thighs and ass, gripping and slapping them every now and then to keep me on my toes as I writhed below him.

I wanted to protest. But with how he was sucking at my nipple, giving just enough pressure to stimulate me but not enough to get me going as he purposefully ignored my clit, I was second guessing my behaviour. Especially when he slapped my tit again from zoning out.

"Eyes on me, brat." He glared. I gulped and nodded, realising that pouting like a child was ineffective on this man. So I went lax and let him use me at his own pace, even if it had me tearing up. It was a sad sight that led to Aizawa chuckling as he slowly fingered me, edging me close to my release before stopping, over and over again. By the time I'd almost climaxed five times, my body was beginning to shake from the strain and I was panting like crazy.

"You're doing so well." Aizawa remarked as he pulled out his fingers at the last minute, for the sixth time, "I'll let you pick how we do this since you seem to have learnt your lesson." I blinked up at him.

'I didn't expect that…' I blanked, but my heart soared at the thought of him finally knotting me.

However I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. So with a small grin I pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Aizawa looked up at me with a surprised chuckle, but he allowed it, hands slotting into place along my hips as I slowly grinded myself against his rock hard head, earning a low hiss.

Slowly I continued to grind, earning gritted teeth and nails dug into my hips. It wasn't exactly the reaction I wanted but it was effective. Deciding I needed more, I angled myself to meet him before slowly sliding his head into me, earning a small gasp.

I grinned at this, thighs shaking as I slowly sheathed him in me partially, only to remove him entirely. I then would repeat a few times, earning a slap on the ass.

"Are you trying to tease me?" He snarled as I slowly took him inside me again, the tightness of my walls slowly getting to him. I giggled, my only answer, "I can take back my gift to you and fuck you like the brat you are if you want?" He warned.

I paused my teasing at that. I knew he wouldn't let me cum if I did that. But the idea of being railed sounded all too tempting.

However I wanted to have some of my own fun, first. So my answer was to sit on him fully and roughly, causing a loud groan from both of us as I felt him smack my cervix.

The stretch wasn't painful exactly. It stung a little but it felt good to have him inside me fully. It was like he was meant to stretch me out, make me his.

So when I rocked I felt myself claw at his chest and grit my teeth with each thrust.

"Daddy you feel so good." I purred, throwing my head back as I picked up the pace. Aizawa grunted below me, guiding my hips as he let me ride him.

I whined when he hit that spongy spot deep inside me, which encouraged him to start fucking up into me as I rocked, hitting that area over and over again. It was enough to cause me to see stars and I was quickly approaching my orgasm.

"Fuck…" he groaned before flipping me over, causing me to yelp. However when he sheathed himself deep inside me, I moaned.

"Ugh Shota…!" I squealed when he pulled my legs up and over his shoulders, fucking me deeper and putting me in a mating press.

It seemed to give him a better depth to hit my g spot because he was nailing that sucker with each thrust and I was a panting, squealing mess as I felt that tight ball in my stomach release. And with it so did my fluids, soaking his pelvis in cum as I came hard on his cock.

"So messy, squirting for me like that." He commented as he continued to fuck my through my high, "It can't be helped."

Aizawa wasn't even close, the slaps of wet skin on skin sounded throughout the room as he picked up the pace. I couldn't help but scream his name as I approached my second orgasm. I began to scratch at his back hoping to ground myself, however when I came Aizawa shoved his tongue in my mouth to silence me, but never slowed his pace even for a second. If anything he sped up, determined to fuck through the high again as he reached his own climax. And when he did, his brutal pace continued as he fucked his cum into me.

The only indication that he'd came was him biting into my nape harshly, a deep, guttural almost growl sounding from his throat and the slight stutter of his hips as he slowed his pace gently.

I was still panting by the time his hips came to a halt. My body was on fire as every touch elicited a spark. So when Aizawa pulled me onto him, cock still thoroughly embedded inside me, I practically melted as I snuggled into his chest.

"Are you alright?" He begged softly, moving hair out of my face as he checked me over. I felt myself nod and yawn as I burrowed my head into his neck.

"Perfect, Alpha."

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